Red

His infractions amazed you, but you still didn’t leave him, even when every bone in your body begged you to. It was the little things, like watching Hope smile as she opened presents on Christmas morning, that made you feel like it was worth it.

You had grown attached to her. While you still weren’t the best of friends with her mother, you remained civil for her. After all, you were both stuck in this family with no way of escaping, so you found it pointless to continue to ignore her.

Klaus, however, was much more deserving of your ignorance, but like Hayley, you pushed that to the side. Your feelings didn’t matter when their child was involved. Even though you weren’t her mother, Hope felt like a daughter to you. Her name was so fitting; she really was this family’s last hope, and she was definitely yours.

Over the years you had, you managed to mend your relationship with Rebekah, even if it was never really the same as it was before. You were no longer running around Chicago together, dancing the night away, but now you had responsibilities to care for and hurt in your hearts. Rebekah had always been a child of sorts, but coming back to this city forced her to grow up. In a way, you supposed you did, too.

Elijah and you were better after that talk you had that one Christmas Eve, not as good as before, but better, and for the time being, that was good enough.

Sometimes, as you were playing with Hope in the living room, your siblings surrounding you, you lied to yourself and pretended you were a family again. But you knew better now. You’d been here before already.

But then something happened, something that almost made that lie feel real.

You walked into the Abattoir with a wide smile on your face, a sight that’d become rare to see. But when you were with Hope, it was impossible for the corners of your lips not to go up. She was giggling at something you said, but, looking back, you couldn’t even remember what it was.

There were shopping bags in your hands. You just took her out to get clothes for her first time at school. You were expecting to see the family seated on the couches, prepared to watch her “runway” her new wardrobe.

Instead, you were met with an apparent crisis. Rebekah sat on the couch, hand cupped over her mouth in shock, tears in her eyes. Hayley stood off to the side, glancing in between Elijah and Klaus, the former staring pointedly at an unknown man whose back was turned to you and the latter with his arms crossed, also staring at said man.

At your entrance, Hayley looked over to you, seeming to let out a breath, as if she was thankful to have a reason to leave the situation. “Mommy, mommy!” Little Hope waved Hayley over, even though she was already walking in your direction. “Me and Auntie Y/N/N bought pretty clothes! Wanna see?”

“Yes, sweetheart, just after your father and Uncle Elijah work this out.” She picked the child up, glancing your way with a sort of warning in her eyes, nodding over to where the rest of the family stood before she looked back to Hope. “For now, why don’t we get you in the bath?”

Hope groaned in protest, making you smile in amusement, but Hayley paid no mind to this, taking her upstairs. Your smile was immediately wiped away. The look the werewolf gave you suggested that something was going on, something she didn’t want Hope to be apart of. The rest of the Mikaelsons hadn’t taken their attention off the man they were staring at for even a second, worrying you.

So, you placed the shopping bags you were holding down next to the gate, walking towards them with your arms held out. “What’s going on?” You asked, but no one turned to answer you. Your brows furrowed. Just as you were about to ask again, the mystery man turned around and it was like the wind was knocked out of you instantly.

Standing right in front of you was no stranger. It was Kol Mikaelson.

For a moment, you almost forgot how to breathe. He gazed at you tenderly with an indecipherable look in his eye. Before you could get to even trying to figure it out, you jumped out of your shock and engulfed him into a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. Tears leaked out of your eyes for the first time in years.

After a minute, you pulled away, patting his arms and looking him up and down, like you were trying to figure out if he was real. He looked just like Kol, just like your Kol. You pinched yourself, causing the man to let out a small chuckle.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said, and you were gobsmacked because that was his voice, his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. As you realized this was real, that this was really Kol, you pulled him in for another hug. 

Kol was the one to pull away this time, cupping your cheeks with his hands and wiping your tears away. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the right words to use, trying to figure out what you even wanted to say. When he died, you felt like there was so much left unsaid, but now you didn’t know where to start. “How- how are you here?”

He softly smiled at you, so different in comparison to the usual Mikaelson smirk that you were used to. “I’m going to explain everything.”

All of a sudden, you heard a throat clear, reminding you of the others in the room that you’d somehow forgotten about. You looked behind Kol to see Elijah, straightening his cufflinks. “Yes, it appears that we all have a lot to discuss,” he remarked, almost looking uncomfortable. You then glanced to Klaus whose jaw was clenched. Rebekah was still in the same exact position as before, expressionless.

Kol guided you to the couch next to her, telling the brothers they should sit, too. And then he told you all the story of a lifetime.

You listened intently as Kol explained how he was alive. He said he had been on the other side, watching all of you every day. Hearing this made you tense as you wondered what he could’ve possibly seen or heard; you were embarrassed that he might’ve seen how Klaus treated you and how you stayed, but your mind didn’t linger on the subject for long as he continued with his story.

He said the other side started to fall apart, all thanks to the travellers and their sociopathic leader, Markos. You were surprised he was even real; when you came across travellers in the past, you thought they were insane, but it turned out that they actually had real power, enough to bring down a supernatural purgatory that had existed long before even your time.

Kol then said he went back to Mystic Falls after a witch told him that Bonnie Bennett had taken the place of the other side’s anchor. He explained how, following Stefan’s death, the scooby gang engaged in a plan to bring him and their other fallen friends back. 

“So I was stuck with my life in the witch’s hands.” He suddenly looked to you. “She refused at first, but when I mentioned you, she eased up and decided to let me through.” For some reason, this information made you freeze. You were stuck staring into Kol’s eyes until he eventually looked away, making you shake your head. “Whatever you said to her, Y/N, may have just saved my life.”

You knew what he was referring to. Long ago, when you were still in Mystic Falls, before Klaus cheated and before Kol died, you gave the Bennett witch some advice you thought she’d find useful. You told her not to let people walk all over her, to start living for herself.

How ironic was that?

It seemed that neither of you had followed this advice, though, because Bonnie was still stuck putting her life on the line for her friends and you still lived with your husband and his family.

Both of you were doing things that’d kill you eventually.

Maybe it already did.

After Kol’s story, you were all worn out, like each of you had lived through it yourselves. Even though you were exhausted, you were still ecstatic that Kol was alive, that your wishes had come true. When Rebekah got over her shock, you could tell she was happy too, and even Elijah had a ghost of a smile of his lips. But Klaus didn’t look as happy as you would’ve thought he’d be.

You didn’t mind this, ignoring it altogether, refusing to let anything ruin your good mood. That night, you went to bed happy in a house full of Mikaelsons.

The next day, when Kol met Hope, the smile that was already on your face got even wider. Oh, they would cause trouble together, you thought. The three of you spent the week together, sometimes including one of your other siblings. And for the first time since you were with that boy, you felt human again.

You could’ve never imagined this turn of events, Kol coming back to life, Klaus’ child being your salvation. But no longer could you imagine any what ifs, any other life for yourself. You didn’t wonder and wonder about what would’ve happened if Elijah let you go, if Klaus never found you. If you got the chance to go back, you didn’t even know if you would’ve done it all differently. That was saying something, but at the moment, it all felt like it was worth it.

There were so many questions you had for Kol, so many qualms you still had with your family, but for that week, you ignored it all. You could only focus on the influx of pure happiness you felt. You started living like you weren’t a thousand-year-old Original whose heart was broken and like you were gonna die the very next day.

And it was liberating.

But you knew better than to think you could live in paradise forever.

You and Kol lied on the grass of some hill he’d driven you to. You were surprised he even still knew his way around the city, but he was always one to surprise you.

You just stared up at the stars together in silence, a comfortable silence that didn’t feel like it was suffocating you. It was just the two of you, no Klaus, no drama, no anyone. It was just you and the stars.

Out of nowhere, Kol broke the silence, his voice just above a whisper. “My brother doesn’t deserve you.”

Your breath hitched, turning your head towards him, but his gaze was still aimed at the sky. Your perfect little moment was suddenly invaded by the thought of your husband who you’d been unknowingly avoiding in conversation with Kol altogether. Maybe he noticed that.

Maybe he noticed the way you and Klaus no longer touched, even though you couldn’t keep your hands off one another the last time he was alive. Maybe he really was watching you from the other side, and that terrified you.

You knew Kol held you on a pedestal, even if neither of you would ever acknowledge that. He thought you were so good, so strong, so it killed you to think that he saw you when you were most vulnerable. It killed you to think that he knew all of his brother’s indiscretions and how you stayed, anyway.

You knew better than that—no, you were better than that.

Kol went on, “He never has-”

This time, you cut him off, the shock wearing off. “Kol-”

“No, Y/N.” He finally stopped staring up at the stars, turning to look at you. You were expecting the disappointment, but you weren’t expecting the raw anger in his eyes, an anger that’d never been directed at you. But you know it wasn’t. “You were always too good for that bastard, too good for this entire fucking family.”

You tried to stop him, but he kept going every time you opened your mouth. “Here you are, raising a child that isn’t even yours for his sake. Even after what he did to you, what he kept doing to you, you stayed—because that is just how loyal you are and how loyal he isn’t.” He started laughing, but there was no trace of humour in it. “You have no idea how much I want to sock him every time I see him.”

“Kol-”

“You know there’s nothing you can say to make this better, Y/N.” That shut you up. “I’m not going to let you spin this just to spare my brother the trouble.” Oh, how embarrassed you felt. Klaus cheated on you over and over again, yet you still felt the need to defend him. 

Things were okay with Elijah and Rebekah because, even though they were there, they weren’t really there. They didn’t know how bad things were between you and Klaus, how it ate you alive, not even Rebekah who watched you break down and isolate yourself. But Kol- oh, Kol saw it all.

You swallowed, looking back up to the sky. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Never had you been turned so fast. When your eyes met Kol’s, they were fierce, but his voice softened. “Don’t ever apologize for him. Never again, not to me- not to anyone.”

You swallowed a second time, losing your words as you just stared into his eyes. You hadn’t seen him in so long; you forgot how well he knew you, how he was able to read you like a child’s book.

But Kol had gotten more complicated to you. Whenever you were around him, there was a new look that’d surface in his eyes. This look was like a passerby that you didn’t know but had seen before, a friend of a friend. This was a look you could not decipher, and currently, he was giving you that exact look.

For a long while, the two of you just looked at each other as if you were the stars you’d came all this way to see. The only things heard were crickets and the cars from the city until Kol’s voice sounded.

“I should’ve never let him do this to you,” he said. And you didn’t know what that meant.

But it didn’t matter.

Because, seconds later, you both got up and drove away.

This night hadn’t dampened your mood. There were so many things to be happy for. Years ago or even a week ago, you were depressed beyond words, but Kol coming back had filled a hole you’d thought would never go away. So even though this conversation stung, you were still okay.

When you got back to the compound, you both pretended he never said what he said. Kol went back to being his playful self, making jokes, and you went back to laughing at them.

It was like you’d been given a miracle. You never thought you’d feel like yourself again, and you didn’t really, but it was so close, as close as you’d been in a long time. 

You didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Every day started being spent with either Kol, Marcel, Hope, or sometimes even Rebekah. Life was as normal as it had ever been, as sunny as you’d ever seen the world—at least as sunny as your life has been in decades.

Until it started to rain.

You were in the kitchen of the Abattoir, looking through the cupboards to see what you could make. While none of you had to actually eat, Hope did, and so it’d become a staple in the Mikaelson house to have dinner every night. These dinners stopped being so awkward after a while.

Hayley and Eijah were at some werewolf meeting, Rebekah had taken Hope to buy school supplies, Kol was roaming around, and you suspected Klaus was out causing some sort of mayhem. You assumed you were alone in the house, but you were proven wrong.

Footsteps sounded behind you; you sensed him before you even turned around. Even though Klaus and you had gotten to a point of pleasantness, that didn’t mean you enjoyed being alone with him. 

A few years of pleasantness couldn’t erase the thousand years you’d spent together.

“Love,” he greeted, pulling out a barstool and sitting down, the kitchen island separating you. You lightly inhaled, turning to nod to him in acknowledgement.

You kept rummaging through the kitchen, trying your best to ignore your husband’s presence. Oh, Klaus hadn’t felt like your husband in so long, but what else could he possibly be to you?

You were trying so hard to be friends with him, but could you really be friends with the man you were in love with for a millennium? With the man who had hurt you more than anyone else ever had? You didn’t have an answer to that.

The two of you sat in silence. There was a point in time where silence between you both felt like a warm blanket, comfortable and safe, but now it felt ominous, like the calm before a storm. With Klaus, there was always a storm.

Just as you placed your final ingredients on the counter, he caught you off guard and asked, “What are you doing with my brother?” You quickly spun around, widening your eyes and narrowing them in the same sequence. This was a question, but it felt much more like a challenge.

Klaus was impassive, but you knew better than to actually believe that. However, you mirrored his expression, anyway. “What do you mean?” you quizzed. You tried to keep your voice devoid of emotion, but you couldn’t help the bite of annoyance that seeped through.

He clearly noticed this if the tick in his jaw was of any indication. “You and Kol, Y/N.” Your brows furrowed at his vague explanation, causing his eyes to roll. “Come on, don’t act as if you’re surprised. You had to have known that I’d ask eventually. You’re my wife.”

He stared firmly into your eyes. No, I’m not your wife, you wanted to scream, but you bit your tongue. You hoped that your gaze said it for you, anyway. Instead, you scoffed, “No, Klaus, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “I’m not sure what insinuation you’re trying to make, but you need to cool it.”

You were fed up, and you could feel an argument on its way. Klaus and you hadn’t argued in a long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have things you wanted to say to him. You held your comments in for Hope’s sake, but if he wanted to poke the bear, then you’d make sure that the bear poked back.

This time, he scoffed, his calm façade falling apart as he snarked, “Oh, please, you can’t possibly be so naive.”

“There is nothing to be naive about, Klaus—there’s nothing going on between your brother and me.” And if there was, it wouldn’t be your business, you wanted to add, but you weren’t gonna add more fuel to the fire. You didn’t even know why your mind went there in the first place.

“Perhaps that’s what you think, Y/N, but I’ve seen the way my brother looks at you-”

“He doesn’t look at me in any way.”

“Yes, he does- and you’re fooling yourself if you think he doesn’t.”

There was a door in your mind that Klaus had opened with these remarks, a door you’d been scared to even go near. But you closed it right away, refusing to wonder about it. He was wrong. There was nothing going on between you and Kol.

Your eyes hardened and you snapped, “I don’t have the time nor do I have the patience to deal with another one of your paranoid episodes.” He scoffed again, but you paid it no mind. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner to make.” You turned around, not caring to see Klaus’ expression. You heard the barstool screech against the floor and then his angry footsteps as he left the kitchen.

And just like that, that opened door was slammed shut.

You tried your hardest to ignore Klaus’ words, telling yourself it wasn’t true, that there was no way it could possibly be true, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Kol had always been close, but there was nothing that wasn’t platonic there. 

Or maybe you were wrong.

You had given up on love so long ago. You gave your lover your heart without a second thought and he threw it to the ground like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shatter everywhere, like it was possible for you to ever recover from that. And then when you try and find happiness, he rips that away from you, too.

Klaus had blown out any spark you had, leaving you alone in the dark.

Was love worth it if felt like this?

You didn’t know. These weren’t questions you asked yourself when you said “I do.” You didn’t know what to do anymore.

So you did what you always did, stuffing your feelings away and acting like nothing was wrong. But something changed. Whenever you saw Kol after that, you felt something—something you couldn’t explain, something you couldn’t name. It was like you had felt this before, but just never noticed it.

This feeling lurked in the background for a while until it was pulled back to the forefront of your mind when you least expected it.

“Bloody hell,” you muttered, storming into the compound with Kol following soon after. Your language was partly ironic because bloody you were. Of course, not your blood, but you hadn’t been in this state in at least a century.

Safe to say, you didn’t miss it.

You had just killed a horde of witches. They were good opponents, strong, but nobody was ever really smart if they decided to go up against the Mikaelsons. Nothing was stronger than family, even if it didn’t always feel that way.

They wanted to go after Hope, but you would never let that happen—none of you would. So you killed them- slaughtered may have even been a better word to use. Some of them had their hearts taken, their limbs ripped apart, stakes stabbed into their chests; your family could get creative.

Elijah, Hayley, and Klaus were dealing with the mess while Rebekah was tending to Hope. They didn’t need anymore man-power, so Elijah told you both to go home and clean yourselves up. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

“Seems that this family can never escape a bloodbath,” he joked.

“Ugh, disgusting. I need a real bath.” You spun around, a dramatic look on your face. Kol chuckled. He was more at ease than you were; he got a meal out of it, but you preferred quick kills, so now you were just annoyed.

“If you weren’t my brother’s wife, I’d join you.” His tone was light and playful, teasing even, but there was a glint in his eye that made you think he wasn’t completely joking. Your mind went back to what Klaus said to you, about the way Kol looked at you, then you thought about everything he did to you, how he just discarded your vows like they were meaningless. 

Maybe, if you hadn’t just come from a fight, you would’ve laughed it off, but you were tired of thinking about what Klaus wanted. 

You shrugged. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been his wife for a long time now.” You maintained eye contact with Kol as he paused. The playful atmosphere disappeared and was replaced with tension.

A beat passed before he slowly responded, “Y/N, what are you trying to say?”

What were you trying to say? You didn’t know if you could put it into words. So you stepped forward, hearing his breath catch in his throat, putting a hand on his bicep. “I think you know what I’m trying to say.”

Another beat. And then the next thing you knew, Kol’s lips slammed onto yours. You were sped upstairs, immediately ripping his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Yours came off somewhere in the mix. You could taste the leftover blood on his lips, not enough to satisfy you, but just enough to leave you wanting more.

You didn’t know what you were doing, but it felt good. You never thought you’d feel anything remotely like this ever again, but now that you had it, who knew if you could ever let it go?

Kissing Kol was like drugs. Ecstasy raced through your veins. You didn’t know if you had ever felt anything like this before; if you had, then how was it possible that you let it slip through your fingers? No, this was unlike any experience you’d ever had.

He suddenly pulled away, heaving. You reached to pull him back in, but he stopped you, breathing, “Are you sure that you want this?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes- you have no idea how badly.” This clearly sufficed because he was back to kissing you the second you stopped talking, hands going to unclasp your bra.

Oh, at that moment, you couldn’t give a damn what Klaus thought.

And Kol made sure you didn’t think about Klaus for the rest of that night.

Kol made it feel like your first time all over again, like everything you felt was new and foreign to you, but by the time you were done, your body was anything but foreign to him. 

After multiple rounds and showering, you laid in your bed tired. You couldn’t remember the last time someone else laid with you. Part of you thought that, for some reason, Kol would leave, but he stayed right next to you, holding you in his arms.

You only had sex, but this felt like so much more than that.

The only thing that could be heard in your room was the sound of your breathing. You didn’t want to say anything, to talk about it and be reminded that you were married. You just wanted to bask in this moment.

You don’t know how long you’d been lying in silence before Kol whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You turned your head toward him, but like that night on the hill, he kept his vision directed to the ceiling as if he was afraid what he’d see if he directed it to you. He hesitated. “I think I’ve felt something for you for years, centuries. Maybe- maybe I always have.”

Your heart nearly stopped. Not just because he was confessing to having feelings for you, but because maybe you did, too. But this was more than a confession.

Your response to this could determine your future, if there was any, with Kol. 

The rational part of your brain argued that this could never work, that Klaus would never let it happen, that this would only end in tragedy. You wanted to stop this before it became something more, but that other part of yourself, the part ruled by her heart, told you that it was too late for that. This was already something more.

You couldn’t let this go, not even if you wanted to.

You cupped his cheek, turning him to you. When his eyes met yours, you saw an emotion that Kol rarely ever showed, and that was fear. You wondered if he could see that you were scared, too.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like forever but was really only a minute. And then you decided that what you were feeling was more powerful than words, so you didn’t say anything at all, leaning in to kiss him. It wasn’t as fervent as before, now tender and soft but still with purpose. You weren’t too sure of what’d happen after this, once you woke up from this dream and got back to reality, but as you kissed him, it didn’t matter.

You were together. 

And for now, that was more than enough.

When you woke up, Kol was still there, right next to you. You could’ve stayed in bed together all day, but you weren’t normal people. You belonged to the least normal family and led the least normal lives. So you got up, reluctantly, and he went back to his room before anyone could find him in yours.

Then you walked downstairs, ate breakfast, and dealt with the effects of the your most recent problem. You were at Rousseau’s, about to meet with Marcel, when you were pulled into the bathroom, Kol’s lips immediately meeting yours.

The feeling of his lips soon became so familiar to you.

You wanted to be normal so badly, but you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. So this became your new normal instead: stolen moments and glances, being together when no one else was around. 

Slowly, that feeling you had whenever you were around him was given a name. You don’t know if it was love, if it could even be that yet—but it felt dangerous, and exciting, and warm all at once. You felt it whenever you kissed him, whenever you looked into his dark brown eyes, and whenever he smiled. 

You were falling for Kol Mikaelson.

You constantly berated yourself, even though it felt so good. This was like alcohol, and drugs, and every other vice out there: it was temporary. The Original Hybrid was your husband—this was his brother. He wouldn’t let this happen.

This was wrong.

But it felt so right.

You had rejected every possible opportunity of happiness for years. Couldn’t you just have this one thing? Couldn’t you just let yourself be happy?

Oh, Kol made you happy. He brought out a part of you that you thought was gonna be gone forever. He made you feel like yourself again, like you were alive, like you had something to live for.

You had been living in black and white for so long that you forgot what it was like to live in colour.

Music filled the Mikaelson living room, music that the rest of the world would perhaps call old but never got old to you. Kol held you close to him, rocking you to the rhythm while your head rested on his chest. You were both very well versed in classical dances, but you didn’t need a big fancy dance for this to feel the way it did: special.

There was something going on—there always was—but, at that moment, that something didn’t exist. At that moment, it was just the two of you.

A small smile came to your lips. “You know, you weren’t even actually alive when this song came out.”

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m glad. This song is terrible.”

You gasped, pulling away and hitting his arm. “Kol Mikaelson! Don’t you dare speak about Celine Dion that way.”

He laughed again, easily pulling you back to him and kissing the crown of your head. You tried pouting, but it felt impossible to do anything other than smile. “Don’t worry, darling. You like it, so I like it.” Your smile got wider, pulling back again but this time it was to kiss him.

You found that, when you kissed Kol, it wasn’t always so hot and heavy. It didn’t always lead to making out or making love. Sometimes, you just kissed because it felt good. It was soft, and gentle, and reassuring, and it felt good.

Maybe, if you were being honest with yourself, it felt better than anything else.

You pulled away after a few seconds, taking the time to stare into his eyes. You did it all the time and yet, every single time you did, it felt like the first time all over again. You could stare into his brown orbs all day long if you could. However, your lives didn’t allow for that.

But that just made little moments like these all the more special.

After a few seconds, he directed your attention away from his eyes, mumbling under his breath, “The song’s still shit, though.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scolded, but your head still made its way back to his chest, anyways.

Everyone else was back at the benefit. You were there, too, until you both decided to sneak away and go back home. That was cutting it close, definitely, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You didn’t get to go on dates or hold hands in public, so you were gonna grab these moments while you still could.

You knew that what you were doing was just prolonging an eventual- no, an inevitable outcome, but after everything you went through, you learned a few lessons. All good things came to an end—everything had to end at some point. Your marriage sure did, but that didn’t mean that you’d go back and change a thing. Yes, things with Klaus ended badly, but he gave you a thousand good years first.

So if what you were doing with Kol ended, then at least you had this. At least you had dances in the living room, and stargazing, and soft kisses.

Maybe this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.

But as long as you got a happy middle, then you were okay with that.

And he did everything he could to give you just that. 

It felt… different, to be with someone other than Niklaus, but it was a good different. It felt good to smile and to actually mean it. And it made you wish for something more, to be more than just two people engaging in a forbidden love affair, but that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

But Kol made it feel like it really was more than that. He made you feel like a diamond, like you were beautiful, like everything that had weighed down on you only made you that much stronger. 

This was more. This was so much more than you could’ve ever hoped for.

You were lying in bed together late at night when it happened. You weren’t expecting it- you weren’t sure if you ever expected it. But Kol was always one to do the unexpected, surprise you and keep you on the edge of your seat.

Yet, when he spoke, he didn’t sound so dauntless. He sounded small and afraid, but at the same time, you could hear the hope in his voice. Hope, courage, bravery—at the end of the day, it was just called Kol.

He was always brave enough for the both of you.

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched, turning to see that he was already staring at you. The déjà vu hit you hard. Here you were, in the same position you’d already been in with him, but this time, he looked right at you.

Brave enough for the both of you.

You didn’t say anything. You wondered if you were dreaming, hallucinating, imagining things, if this was some cruel trick of the mind. But, the longer you stared and the longer he stared right back at you, the more convinced you became.

This was real.

This was real.

You wrapped your arm around his neck, pulling him in and connecting his lips with yours. Butterflies still erupted in your stomach, even though you had been at this for a while. You put your everything into this kiss, but Kol deserved more than everything.

This scared you, but Kol had given you so much. He didn’t need to be the brave one all the time.

You wanted to be brave, too.

So when you finally pulled away, resting your forehead on his, eyes closed, you whispered back, “I love you.” 

You and Kol were brave together, braver together. Yeah, there were dragons out there so much more powerful than you, but you could slay them together. Maybe it would’ve been safer to just stay away, to just tuck yourself away in a castle and avoid the dragons altogether, but what was the point in that?

What was the point of being alive if you weren’t truly living?

And you were living.

Everyone around you could see it. Your change in behaviour was unusual, but it lifted everyone’s spirits. You were starting to be able to actually hold a conversation with Rebekah, and you were starting to be able to talk to Elijah about things other than the family’s latest conflicts. You were even starting to be a little more friendly with Hayley.

You didn’t tell her, but a part of you was thankful for what she did. She knew who you were when she met Klaus; she knew he was married, and she still slept with him. This had previously enraged you, but now you couldn’t help but feel relieved.

Had she not done what she did, you may have never had this with Kol.

And Hope would’ve never been born.

Oh, you would do anything for her. This family may have been cursed, but you were all willing to do whatever it took to break the cycle. No more running, no more instability. No matter how dysfunctional you all were, you would give her that.

She was never alone. When her parents weren’t there to bring her or pick her up from school, you were. And if you weren’t, then Kol was, or Rebekah, or Elijah, or Marcel. The odds were against you from the start, but you were all there to flip them. 

For her.

You were always happy with Hope, but even she could tell that something had changed. She was a child, but she was bright, and she knew you were happier.

The relationships in your life blossomed. Klaus was the only person that this didn’t happen with.

You loved Kol—you were in love with Kol, but loving him didn’t skew your memory. Klaus and you had a long history. You still couldn’t look at him without picturing it.

It was easier to be more forgiving of Hayley. She wasn’t the one who vowed to be faithful to you, nor was she the one to cheat on you three times or give up on your marriage. He was. You couldn’t see yourself letting go of that. Maybe one day, but being around him wouldn’t speed up that process.

Klaus was actually the last person on your mind.

But that didn’t seem to be the case for him.

You were on your way out of the compound when something caught your eye. You stopped, turning to see your husband by himself in an empty hallway. It appeared that something had caught his eye, too.

He was so focused that he didn’t even see you. You could’ve pretended not to see him, walked away and gone on with your business, but you knew what he was looking at. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t look at it every once in a while, too.

Yes, you could’ve walked away, but the easy thing was never easy for you to do.

So you walked up to him, leaving a foot between you and looking at what had captured his attention. It was a portrait, and a familiar one at that.

The truth was, you’d studied that portrait until it was engraved into your memory. Even when you weren’t looking at it, it still came and found you in your dreams and even when you were just sitting around and thinking.

It was you. It was you, and Klaus, and Rebekah, and Elijah, and Kol. Before he died, before Hayley, before this godforsaken city. It was when things were calm, when you still had some sort of semblance of family. Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be.

Because it wasn’t real.

You never got together for this portrait. This time didn’t exist. It was fake. Niklaus was such a wonderful artist that he almost made you believe it, but it wasn’t real. He could paint you all so realistically, make you look so happy, but when was the last time you were all happy as a family? It was never in these clothes, never in this age.

But he made it look real.

He made it look like you were all picture-perfect, like his brother didn’t bring you to your end, like Rebekah never lost her mind, like Kol was never murdered, like you were never out crying in the rain for a man who would never change, like he was a man who could change.

Who knew that such a happy picture could evoke such sadness. Because this portrait wasn’t what was— it was what could’ve been.

Klaus broke the silence with a voice you would’ve never heard without enhanced hearing. “I really did love you.” Neither of you turned to face the other. “I really do love you.”

Not too long ago, you would’ve started crying. And while tears did build in your eyes, you smiled first. You didn’t doubt that. It didn’t take you long to respond, “So did I.”

1996, when you left, when you came back, when he cheated again, when you found out he was having a baby, when he killed Leo, when you stayed, when you took Hope. All of this flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t all you saw. You also saw your wedding, your first time, when he painted you as you slept, when you got drunk together, when he cooked for you, when you kissed on the beach at night all by yourselves. You saw how happy he made you and how easily he just took it away from you.

You would never forget these things, none of it. You would never forget the bad, but you would never forget the good, either.

He lightly chuckled as if he was remembering all the same things as you. And then, for a while, you both just stood there, staring at the painting. There was a time when you could practically read his mind, but now you had no idea what he was thinking.

You were different people now. You weren’t the same people who went through the good, nor were you the same people who went through the bad. You weren’t the same people you could’ve been in that picture, either.

And he knew that, too.

“I’m never going to be your husband again, am I?” He mused, but this wasn’t a question. You both already knew the answer, even if you hadn’t said it out loud to each other.

“No.” You shook your head, opting to look down at your boots. “No, you’re not.”

Maybe you were imagining it, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw him wipe at his eye. Suddenly, a part of you felt bad, but not for him. You felt bad for the boy you fell in love with, the boy who gave you humanity even when he had lost his own. And you felt bad for the girl who kissed him at the altar.

So, against your current feelings, you turned and swiftly wrapped your arms around him, hoping that you weren’t just hugging Klaus, but that you were hugging the boy you married all those years ago. He quickly hugged you back, holding you tightly, but his grip slowly lessened.

Like he was getting ready to let you go.

You don’t know how long you were in his arms, but eventually he pulled away. You could finally see his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and how they were filled with tears despite the smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. You had both said everything you needed to say; there were no more chapters to write in this book of yours.

It was time for your story to end.

You let go of each other and you turned around, walking away without sparing that painting another glance. You were just at the edge of the hallway when he called your name, making you turn your head.

“Be happy with him,” he said, even though it looked like it annihilated him to say it.

But you didn’t question it. You just nodded, then you turned around and walked away. You didn’t need to ask him who he was referring to or have him explain any further. You understood perfectly.

You would.

You were gonna be happy with him.

And just like that, the Original Hybrid and the Mikaelson Wife were done.

But who knew? You could very well become a Mikaelson once again if Kol got his way. You wouldn’t admit, just as to not inflate his ego, but deep down, you wanted him to get his way.

Slowly, the suspicions your other siblings had became confirmed. You weren’t overly affectionate in public, but they were able to put two and two together. Rebekah had been in love so many times that she was able to see it clearly on you, and Elijah was always the scholar amongst you, the smart one. Marcel saw it from a mile away. While he and Kol hadn’t always gotten along well, they were both willing to put that aside for you.

Even a child could see that you were in love; Hope did.

“Aunt Y/N/N, do you and Uncle Kol love each other like Belle and the Beast?”

You both simultaneously turned to her, along with everyone else in the living room. It was movie night; Beauty and the Beast had just finished, and Hope had asked you that question as soon as the credits were rolling.

She was just a kid who was curious. She didn’t know the potential outrage her question could cause.

But you weren’t gonna lie to her. You weren’t gonna deny what was possibly the best thing you ever had, even as your entire family was in the room.

“Hope-” Hayley had started to scold, but you cut her off.

“Hayley, it’s alright.” She didn’t look convinced and still looked embarrassed, but you turned back to Hope with a smile on your face. “Yes, sweetheart, Uncle Kol and I do love each other.”

She now looked confused, like your reply hadn’t cleared anything up at all. “But my daddy looks at you the way Uncle Kol looks at you.” You opened your mouth, but you didn’t know what to say. “Does daddy love you, too?”

It appeared that none of you had the answer to her question. How were you meant to explain your situation to a child, that you and her father had loved one another for a thousand years and then your relationship ended because he slept with her mother?

What you were least expecting happened. Instead of having an outburst, Klaus beckoned Hope over, petting her hair once she was sat on his lap. “Ah, my littlest wolf,” he sighed, but the corners of his lips were upturned. His eyes were slightly glazed over as if he wasn’t really there, but that look quickly disappeared. For Hope, he’d be present. “I wish that love was as simple to understand as Belle and the Beast, but it is much more complicated than that. Your Aunt Y/N has been there for me many times, and for that, I will always love her,” he professed. His eyes found yours for a moment, but he quickly looked back to his daughter. “But we love each other differently from how her and Uncle Kol love each other. We love each other as family, not as people in love with one another. But no matter what any of us feel for each other in this family, Hope, we will all always love you.”

Hope slung her arms around her father’s neck. “I love you, too, daddy.”

“Always and forever, little one.”

While Hope’s back was turned, your eyes met again and the corners of your lips quirked up slightly. You knew that must’ve been hard for him to say, so you mouthed, thank you.

He smiled back at you. Even though it was so obviously fake, you still appreciated it. He nodded in response.

Yes, you and Klaus had been through a lot. You all had complicated relationships with one another, Kol and you included, but you were gonna push that aside for Hope. Every time.

One day, you would explain it all to her, how Marcel was her brother but your son, why Rebekah was so soft and hard at the same time, why Elijah was so protective, why her parents weren’t together, how you fell in and out of love with her father, why you were still here, how you fell in love with Kol.

But for now, you were gonna let her hold onto her innocence for as long as she could.

Hope still had questions, but she also had all of you to distract her from all of the problems you dealt with. However, you were no longer consumed by all these problems. You had someone to distract you, too, and that was Kol.

Whether you were in bed together, kissing, or just holding hands, he always took your mind off your troubles. He was like a wizard, transporting you from reality and bringing you to cloud nine every day. The problems, the threats, the drama—none of it mattered to you. To you, being with Kol was enough.

If you could just have this for the rest of your life, then you’d be happy, and that is exactly what he wanted to give you.

Time passed in a blur. It was a true what they said, that time flied when you were having fun. Before you knew it, a year had passed since Kol first kissed you, since you started this. A perfect year, calm with minimal conflict both in the Quarter and in the Abattoir.

You could’ve passed many more years this way happily, but you were always one to accept less than what you were worth. Kol knew that, and he wanted more for you- more for both of you.

He wanted to do more than just take you to dreams away from reality.

He wanted to make those dreams come true.

“Kol, what are you doing?” You giggled, stumbling a little but never falling. Kol would never let you fall.

He hushed you, “Shhh, we’re almost there.” 

A blindfold was over your eyes as he guided you around. You got into the car together hours ago, and when you woke up, the blindfold was on. He said he had a surprise for you.

This was so cheesy, but you were a sucker for these kinds of things. You never thought you’d get to a place like this again, that you’d be a hopeless romantic or even just a romantic ever again after what Klaus did to you, but Kol made you believe in romance again.

He put your heart back together after you thought it’d been broken beyond repair.

Finally, after more stumbling and laughing, he stopped, holding you in place. “Okay, are you ready?” You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the excitement in his voice. You nodded. “Alright. Three, two, one-”

The blindfold fell to the ground and the sight he’d been withholding was revealed to you. Your brows furrowed. You were in a living room with beautiful floors and beautiful decor, a fireplace parallel to the big couch behind you. You looked around and saw incredible artwork hanging on the walls and gorgeous windows that let the moonlight in.

It was beautiful and all, but did you drive all this way to break into someone’s house?

You voiced your confusion. “Kol, what is this place?” You turned around to see him trying to hold back a smile, a twinkle in his eyes. He looked like a kid about to tell you that he saw Santa. That thought made you laugh. “C’mon, Kol, really. Where are we right now?”

“Well, geographically, we’re in North Carolina.” His explanation produced a gasp from you, making him laugh. He was having way too much fun having you in the dark.

“North Carolina?” you echoed. Your jaw was practically on the floor. “We’re in North Carolina? You’re kidding- that’s like ten hours away-”

“Thirteen, darling.” This didn’t get rid of your disbelief, though you doubt that was what Kol was aiming for, anyway. He shrugged, adding, “Well, I actually got it down to twelve, but that’s besides the point.”

“Trust me, the shocker for me is not your reckless driving-”

He cut you off by speeding to you, lifting up your chin so you were looking right into his eyes. Funny, how he was still able to make you speechless. “I’m going to ignore that jab at my impeccable driving skills because I love you.”

You snorted, “Sure, if impeccable means shit.”

He hushed you again, causing you to roll your eyes. “Back to your question,” he said, making you remember the topic of conversation. You wondered if he had any idea how easily he was able to make you forget about anything—about everything. “I drove us here because North Carolina is relatively… quiet.”

You raised a brow. “Quiet?”

“Yes.” He gently grabbed your hands, holding them in his. Sometimes, he did this absentmindedly, but you were never bothered. You were far from bothered. “Louisiana is perhaps the heart of the supernatural. New York and any other state with a thriving night life also has a thriving vampire population, and they’re busy enough with humans as it is. The big states always are. But North Carolina… North Carolina isn’t on any vampire’s bucket list.”

You drawled, “Okayyyyyy… but why are we here?” What he was saying made sense, but you didn’t get how it related to either of you.

He just smiled, so clearly amused by your confusion. “You amaze me, Y/N, truly,” he proclaimed, that same shit-eating grin on his face that you’d grown accustomed to. “Only you would take so long to get the hint.”

That was obviously a hint, too, but you weren’t catching it. Kol shook his head, getting that look in his eye that he got when he was remembering something. “You told me once that, if we weren’t who we were, you’d want to live somewhere without ruckus, like a normal person. But you knew that couldn’t happen with my brother’s aspirations.” Now he looked at you pointedly and, all of a sudden, a wave of realization washed over you.

Your eyes darted all over the house. There was a reason why you were so in love with it. You looked back to Kol, mouth agape. He continued, “You wanted a house that wasn’t just decadent, but a home.”

Tears welled in your eyes as your hand flew up to cup your mouth in shock. You could remember telling him that, but it was so long ago. You’d long since abandoned the idea, but here he was, offering it up to you. “You- you remember that?”

He leaned in to wipe a tear that you didn’t even notice had fell, caressing your cheek. “I remember every moment I’ve ever spent with you, Y/N.” His actions were pointless because his words caused even more tears to fall.

You had never felt such an overwhelming feeling, so in love, so loved. Your heart’s immediate instinct was to kiss him, to say yes, but your mind… you’d been through enough to know better. 

“How are we going to-” you stammered, “we can’t- we can’t just move away.”

“Y/N-”

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but-” your voice cracked. “we can’t just pick up and leave, Kol—you know that.”

He was now cupping both of your cheeks, staring so deeply into your eyes that you were sure he could see the parts of yourself that you’d tucked away. “Do you remember when I left Mystic Falls?” Of course, you did. How could you ever forget? “I asked you to come with me and you didn’t. Why was that?”

You didn’t want to answer, to relive this after you’d already agonized over it for so long, but you did, anyway. “Klaus. I didn’t go because of Klaus.”

“Exactly. You didn’t go because of that bastard, and you don’t want this now for the same reason.”

“Kol-”

He stepped closer when you thought he’d already closed all the space between you. His voice was soft and firm all at once. “I died thinking I’d never get the chance to tell you how I felt. I wasted so much time, worrying, unhappy.” He shook his head. “Well, I don’t want to worry anymore. I don’t want to waste any more time.” More tears fell, from both of you. “You make me happy, Y/N. I just want to be happy with you.”

A teary laugh escaped your lips. He made you happy, too, so much happier than you’d been in so long, so much happier than you even thought was possible after everything you’d been through. And he was right. Klaus was the one thing holding you back, but why should he get to do that?

You’ve given away years of your life for other people. Couldn’t you be selfish, just this once, and have this one thing for yourself?

You just wanted to be happy.

So you pulled him in and kissed him until you had to pull away for air, and when you did, you whispered, “Yes.”

And that may have just been the best decision you had ever made.

When you eventually drove back to New Orleans days later, you explained the situation to Klaus. He wasn’t jumping up and down with joy, but he surprisingly took it better than you expected.

You spent a thousand years with that man; saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as it seemed, but it needed to happen. It was time for you to go your separate ways. And even after everything he put you through, you still hoped that he could maybe find happiness one day, too.

Niklaus Mikaelson was your epic love, but you knew without a doubt that Kol was your true love. He was the warmth you’d been yearning for, and you were gonna let yourself have that.

North Carolina was the perfect place for you to settle down. It was quiet, like Kol said, with little to no supernatural population. It was also close enough to Louisiana that you could distance yourself from all the crazy but still get there if they needed you.

That’s what you told Elijah when you said your goodbye to him, that you were just a phone call away. He was gonna be the one running the show now, as always. He was always the responsible one amongst you, and you hoped that he’d let go of that and let himself live a little, too. As much as you didn’t like her, maybe he could get with Hayley one day or even find his own person.

You had hope that all of your family could one day be free of this Mikaelson curse, that they wouldn’t be bearing the hybrid’s sins for the rest of their lives. Rebekah was getting there. She was still growing up a little, and she all the time in the world to do that.

It was hard saying goodbye to Hope, but you just reassured her that this wasn’t goodbye. She’d always have a place in your home if she so needed it, and she’d definitely always hold a place in your heart. The only reason you felt okay with leaving her was because you knew she wouldn’t be alone; she had two parents that loved her more than life, a crazy aunt and uncle, and her big brother.

Marcel congratulated you with a wide grin on his face. He was elated for you, telling you that he’d be visiting you, to which you replied that he would always be welcome with you two.

Maybe you were just sentimental, but even saying goodbye to the city itself was hard, nerve-racking. It had given you so much, but taken so much more. You were learning, though, that love wasn’t supposed to drain you. You were learning to let go.

Goodbye, New Orleans, you whispered to yourself as you passed the town sign, and then you were saying hello to North Carolina… and also the new you.

Y/N and Kol Michaels. You got married not too far down the line. Of course, if you wanted to be normal, ditching the medieval last name was best. You supposed you could’ve kept it, but getting rid of it was more symbolic than anything.

You wanted to start over completely, and so that’s what you guys did. You weren’t abandoning your family, but making one of your own, too. Eventually, the idea of kids came up. You wanted nothing more than to raise your own child with the man you were in love with, but you couldn’t conceive a child and you didn’t want to drag one into this life, anyway. It was too dangerous.

The realization that you would never get to have kids broke your heart, but your lover repaired it like his words were glue. The two of you were together, and that was good enough for you.

Doing this, starting over, was scarier than any other situation you had ever been in—and that was saying something, considering how long you’d lived. But with Kol at your side, you were able to be brave. 

There was so much to be afraid of. You were scared that this wouldn’t work out, that this was only a happy middle with no happy ending, that you’d feel cold again one day after growing accustomed to the fire, but if all of that happened one day, then you decided that you’d be okay with it. You would be okay with it because at least you lived. You weren’t gonna let your fears stop you from doing that. If you just gave into your fears, then you would’ve never felt this feeling. You would’ve never fallen in love. You would’ve never found yourself again.

You owed it all to your bravery.

And you owed it all to Kol’s.

But together, you were fearless. Together, you were braver.

You were braver together.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade @hyperactivewhore @tnrthings @brooklynscherry-z @roselibrary @kollover24 @volturissideslut

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

If you wanted to go outside, one of the dogs, or John, would follow you outside to keep an eye on you. If one of John's men had done particularly well that night, he would let them eat you out before bed as a treat.

"Can we please go on a walk tonight?" You whine as you press your nose to the glass. You could see the storm clouds rolling in, the smell of rain in the air, but you still wanted to go outside.

"You'll get sick in the rain, bunny." Johnny insists, nuzzling your fuzzy ear softly. You pout and move your head away, not wanting him to slobber all over your ear. "Maybe tomorrow?" He offers with those big puppy eyes that did manage to make your heart melt.

You pout at him for a moment, staring back up at the sky and sighing wistfully. "Why is Simon outside, then? Won't he get sick?" You point to his large shadow moving through the field.

"He's herding the sheep up for the night. Come on, bunny, I'm going to teach you how to use the blender." John explains, encouraging you away from the window and back to his side.

Kyle would be entering his rut soon, just in time for John to finish building a shed for whenever the time came. Normally, he could handle all three of them going into a rut at the same time, fucking each other stupid until they wore themselves out. But with you around, he knew that he couldn't just throw you between them.

You had never even been knotted before. It was better to take things slow.

You were listening to John explaining the buttons on the blender curiously, yelping in shock when Kyle's faces bullied its way between your legs, his hands roughly bending you over for better access.

"Kyle! Hey, down boy! Down!" John scolds, grabbing the back of Kyle's shirt and pulling him away from between your legs. "Don't pounce on the bunny. Go rough house with Johnny." He orders, Johnny rushing over at the sound of his name. The two dogs chase each other outside while you try and smooth your dress back down.

"Well, I guess it's almost time to put the two of you in the shed. Kyle's a really good boy, he'll be nice when he fucks you." John assures, smirking at the way your nose twitches. "It's okay, Y/N. I'll make sure to bring you lots of food."

You would have to thank John for the plush couches and rugs he had decorated the shed with. The moment Kyle was put inside with you, he practically ripped your nightgown off so he could touch your soft fur. He pushes you onto the couch, hands latching to your thighs so he can hungrily lap between your legs.

"Kyle, slow down!" You plea through a sob, your tail wiggling and twitching from the stimulation. "It's too much!"

"So sweet, bunny. God, so sweet." He huffs, drooling all over your sex before he laps it all up. You had never never seen Kyle be such a mutt, gasping when he presses two fingers inside of you. "Have to stretch you. Need to knot you." He groans, fingering you as delicately as his horny, needy brain could allow.

You arch into the touch, holding onto the pillow you'd managed to grab hold of to keep you grounded somehow. Kyle pulls his fingers out, pulling you up into his lap and carrying you to the couch. When he sets you down, you whine and try to back away from the window he set you in front of. He growls at you, nipping your ear a little before grabbing your ears so he can hold your head still.

"Look. Let them see you." Kyle huffs as he forces your face closer to the window. Johnny and Simon were watching from outside, tails wagging and cocks straining against their jeans. Kyle sinks inside of you, inch by inch, drawing out your reaction just to rub it into his packs face.

You couldn't focus on anything except for Kyle stretching you open, his knot half swollen and nudging your hole. Kyle tries to keep himself from pounding into you, but he can't help himself when he feels you clenching around him.

The rhythm is sloppy and rough, his hips snapping on your ass with loud slaps that echo through the room. It doesn't take long for Kyle to thrust his knot deep inside of you, making your eyes open wide and your jaw hang open. Your moan could be heard from outside, Kyle biting down on your shoulder to make you cry out louder.

Your eyes flick from the amused guard to your new ‘friend’ who gets one last pull-up in before dropping two socked feet to the ground with a grunt. You swear the fucking ground rumbles. He turns towards you and your knees wobble as his shadow over takes you.

Red eyes. Half of his face is mutilated, marred by a fire from long ago, you can surmise. His face tattoos match his body. He’s tall, you wouldn’t even be able to reach the height of his makeshift pull-up bar on the tips of your toes.

You stiffen as he sizes you up like the other inmates did on your way in. You hope you wrapped your chest tight enough. A woman in an all male prison? Not a good idea for too many reasons.

“Hi—” you clear your throat of the high pitched tone, adopting a fake, deeper one, “Hey, bro. It’s uh— cool to meet you— or whatever.”

You could slap yourself. Who are you kidding? You don’t know how to talk like a guy. You should have told Gojo ‘No, no amount of money would make me spend a year in a male prison.’ You shouldn’t have drank so much and stupidly agreed that night at the bar, because now, the best case scenario here is that the guard takes you away and they throw the real you into a women’s prison for trying to ‘fool the system.’

The man takes a step forward, and you’re already tensing for a blow— but he just shoulder checks you on the way out. You stumble a little, immediately going to rub your shoulder.

The guard looks properly amused, holding back a laugh. “Here,” he kicks off the wall, pushing some supplies into your arms. Another guard must have handed these over to him as you greeted your cellmate.

“Have fun,” he makes his brows jump and moseys away.

You deeply exhale through the nerves in your chest, walking towards your bed, if you can even call it that. You drop the supplies onto the thin mattress. Sheets, blanket, toothbrush, etc.

You’ve never been one to pray, but you’re considering it right about now. You shake your head and give yourself something to do: put on your sheets, organize the few toiletries you have on your desk.

After fifteen minutes, some kind of bell rings through the prison and you watch inmates filter out of their cells.

You stand and lean out of the cell curiously. You catch one of them muttering about ‘green beans’ and you realize it’s dinner time.

You enter the crowded mess hall and you’re immediately overwhelmed, clattering trays and chaos. The smell of old meatloaf and sweaty man fills the room.

You keep your head down as you get in line, adopting a slight slouch in hopes to avoid accidental eye contact that could be perceived as a threat. The second you’re pulled into something like a violent altercation, you’ll likely be exposed as a woman quite fast.

Dinner is slop with a side of slop on a metal tray, and you’re realizing why Gojo wanted to avoid this place so adamantly. A fucking paid vacation, he’d said.

You scan the mess hall with the tray in your hands, heart racing.

You spot two guards leaning against the entrance, watching you with amusement— like they’re waiting to see what happens to you, who will pick the runt of the litter. You’re the entertainment. You must look like a little meek boy, shaking in your boots.

It’s packed. Big men in little stools. It reminds you of highschool clicks but worse. You spot your pink haired cellmate, sat alone at the only empty table, but one mean glance up with those red eyes and you’re searching elsewhere.

“Who do we have here?” A deep voice sings as a heavy arm drops around your shoulders.

You glance up at him to see a blue haired man with scars all over his body, like he’d previously had poorly done stitches. He smiles at you with dead eyes.

Some of his friends surround the two of you, bored and idle— but their bulky presence only makes you nervous.

“Need somewhere to sit?” he hums tauntingly, tilting his head down to your level. “My name’s Mahito.”

“Oh, I—”

“Shhh little pet, I’ve got you now. I’ll take you under my wing! You don’t even have to thank me or anything.” His smile makes your spine tense with chills as he moves to stand in front of you.

Do you have another choice? You’re afraid of offending him and his scary friends if you decline.

Mahito continues, as if your acceptance is a given. “Let’s just get some things straight before—”

He’s interrupted by a large fist slamming into his jaw, knocking him right off his feet and onto his ass. Your hands tense around your tray, eyes wide as your gaze snaps to see who just punched Mahito into a limp, dream state.

It’s your pink haired cellmate, looking down at his victim while ringing out his fist like it’s just another Tuesday.

Fights must be common around here, because when you look around, no one seems surprised. Most of the men just mind their business and continue eating their food. Even the two guards are whistling, turning the other cheek.

You gulp. Mahito’s friends don’t even try to defend him, they just back away— like hyenas in the presence of a lion. You hear one of them mutter a name, ‘Sukuna.’

You wonder if anyone is even going to bring Mahito to the infirmary, but when Sukuna’s roaming gaze sweeps over you, all thoughts freeze in fear.

You hold his gaze a beat too long, unsure, until you see a flicker in his expression, a subtle tightening of the corner of his eyes. In a breath, you fold inward, chin dipping down to your chest in retreat.

He breaks the tension first, adjusting his neck as he turns away. He settles back into his seat with his meal, relaxed and borderline bored.

You have no clue what his intentions are, or what saving you signifies. Regardless, you’re relived to not sit with Mahito.

With no other option, you inch your way over to the only empty table where Sukuna sits. He remains focused on his food, ignoring your presence completely as you sit as far away as possible— on the literal side edge of the seat.

You cautiously take a bite, peeking at him defensively, but he remains indifferent.

__________________

Lights out, 9:10 pm.

You lay in your uncomfortable little bed, staring at the dirty ceiling. The cell door clanged shut at exactly 9 pm and when the guard made his final round, flashlight shining through the corridor— he passed by with a slow, deliberate glance followed by a wink that made you feel uncomfortable.

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning for 10 minutes. You shift on your side, unable to lay in one position for longer than two minutes due to this stone of a mattress.

“Quit. Moving.”

You freeze at the demand coming from your cellmate, who probably hasn’t been able to sleep with all of your loud movement.

“Sorry,” you chirp quietly, pressing your lips together between your teeth.

He exhales, deeply. You peek at him and he’s facing the opposite wall, naked back towards you.

You don’t know prison etiquette, are you meant to do something specific if someone saves you from a group of scary individuals like he did earlier? Maybe give him half of your lunch from now on or he’ll take you into the back and beat the teeth out of you?

“Um,” you whisper, practicing your ‘boy’ voice.

You feel the energy in the room shift, like when you were a child sharing a bunk with your sibling and you’d start spouting nonsense to each other after 3am.

“Thank you.”

You feel relief when a silent moment passes, maybe he’s asleep and didn’t hear you, because now that you’ve actually said it, you regret it. How stupid and naive could you be? You reckon gratitude like this may not apply in prison.

He grunts as he adjusts his position, and you cringe at the ceiling, subtly inching your thin blanket up to your chin. Oh. He definitely heard you.

You nod off after too many minutes of silence and you wake in the morning to the sound of the breakfast bell. You all but squeal opening your eyes to see your sweaty cellmate looming over your bed.

You quickly clear your throat, sitting up and glancing around at your surroundings. You kick your ‘boy’ voice up, trying to recover from your girly scream. “Morning.”

He throws a small towel over his shoulder and walks off, unbothered by the strangeness of standing over someone’s bed before they’ve even awoken.

Your breast wraps are still in tact when you peek down under your shirt, so you don’t think he saw anything he wasn’t supposed to.

Breakfast is uneventful, thankfully. Mahito, who has fresh dark bruises along his face, doesn’t even look your way. You sit alone at Sukuna’s table, the same acceptable distance as before.

Things are just okay, you think.

That is, apart from the whole using the bathroom thing. You’ve been putting it off. But, it’s unavoidable.

After breakfast, you peek into your cell where the shared toilet is, only to see Sukuna casually reading a scroll with one hand and doing one armed push ups with the other. The image of using the toilet in here makes your face sour. That’d be a type of humiliation you’d rather avoid, and that’s not even accounting for keeping your gender a secret.

Instead, you settle for the shared bathrooms connected to the showers in one large tiled, communal room.

Standing in front of the toilet stall, you curse Gojo’s entire family line. Because of course the stalls don’t have doors. Somewhere far away, Gojo suddenly feels shivers race down his spine in the middle of his little mochi date.

Apart from the unsettling experience of using the bathroom surrounded by large men shaving and brushing their teeth, you overheard interesting information as you did your business. You had to translate male prison gossip lingo, but apparently Sukuna and Mahito’s little altercation yesterday wasn’t random.

They have history. Something about ‘daring to touching his soul’ — whatever that means. You think soul is code for a drug supply, maybe.

Yesterday’s incident was a ‘checking’ as your fellow inmates say. Mahito was trying to force you, someone weak and new, into his group, which made him look strong among the lower ranks. But when Sukuna stepped in, punching his lights out in front of everyone, it was a show of power.

Mahito dominates people like you, small and submissive by nature, to stay on top, but Sukuna operates on a whole nother level. In that simple act, he showed everyone that you’re on the bottom, people like Mahito are in the middle, and Sukuna reigns on top.

You’re already cringing at your naivety thanking him last night, like he was some knight in shining armor.

Once you get back to your cell, Sukuna’s still reading, this time, sat on his bed all glistening with sweat having finished his workout.

You ignore your nerves walking past him to sit on your own bed with your back against the wall.

You’d scored a notebook and pen from the recreation room, and begin idly drawing the time away. Seeing how he’s the only thing there is to draw in this place, you start sketching Sukuna’s profile.

His nose is particularly a unique shape, reminiscent of the Greek God statues. You glance up for the millionth time to get the particular slope of his bridge committed to memory, and startle to see him looking back at you with a glare.

You slouch into yourself, your face growing hot having been caught staring and you force your eyes back down.

“You keep thinking you’re allowed to do that.”

Your heart rate kicks up at his scary gravelly tone, like a demon having come back to life in the form of his vocal cords. You naively thought he didn’t notice your glances, since he never even spared you a look.

“Sorry,” you mutter quietly.

“Look at me,” he demands in a way that you wouldn’t dare consider disobeying. Fuck. You were hoping he’d just let it be.

You clench your eyes shut for a brief moment, squeezing your pen in your palm before slowly sitting up and peering at him.

“Pitiful. Truly.” He scoffs, looking at your entire form with disgust. “Do you have no honor? Stand.”

You hesitate, gaze flicking, feeling like you’re playing a game of simon says.

“I said,” his tone rumbles as he moves to sit at the edge of his bed, chin resting on his fist, “stand.”

A passing inmate side eyes your open cell, but he minds his business as if it holds a sleeping monster within.

You gently toss your notebook to the side and your brows twitch as you push yourself up to stand, socked feet meeting the cold floor.

You aren’t even sure if you’re meant to be looking at him still, gaze uncertain.

“Now kneel.”

A flashback of how hard Sukuna’s fist met the bone of Mahito’s jaw makes you slowly bend and drop to your knees.

You spot a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes before a judgmental expression takes over, like your obedience is simultaneously sickening and mandatory to him.

“You hold your head quite high,” he hints at your lack of respect, and if putting your forehead on the dirty floor is all he makes you do for disrespectfully staring, you’d probably be lucky.

Your brows pinch in a pout, grossed out with the prospect of it but still, you inch your head down.

“Good,” he drawls the word out with a whispery rasp, “Go on. All the way down.”

Once you’re in a fully seated bow, like a servant in the old ages, he exhales slow and deep. Cathartically.

A long moment passes with his red eyes on the back of your head. The floor smells like dirt and a trace of bleach. You’re completely vulnerable in his position, with the back of your neck exposed and blinded.

Honestly, you’re wondering if Sukuna is still there. It’s so quiet, all you can hear is the subtle mumble of the others outside of the cell in the main area and the tick of the clock.

You prepare to speak by taking in a small breath, and that’s all it takes for Sukuna to snap at you.

“Did I say you could speak?”

You gulp.

“You’re new,” he complains, “The next time you disobey me, you won’t enjoy what I do.”

You hear the bed creak from him standing, but he doesn’t take a step in any direction. Just stands above you.

“Lick the floor.”

Your lips part in shock, blinking at the floor in confusion. You can’t even begin to imagine the disgusting things that line this floor after decades of men coming in and out. You’ve seen the guy who cleans the floors, he’s blind— literally. Humiliation is the only benefit to making someone do something like this, to knock them back into their place. You don’t have another choice.

“Show me,” he snaps, making you flinch. “Your tongue.”

Fuck this place, you obey. Slip your tongue out and slide it against the floor, eyes clenched shut to cope with the taste of everything horrible and bitter.

Pushing your palms to the floor, you lift your head, giving him the pathetic display of your twitching tongue.

The light above halo’s his pink head like a dark angel, and you see his lips curl into a diabolical smile. Pleased with your submission.

He squats, lining his mouth to your ear— not touching, but close enough to hear. “The hell are you looking at?”

Your eyes clench shut as fast as his words come out and you almost flinch when you feel the tip of his finger brush against your clavicle. Your breast wrap is right there—not impossibly close, but too close for comfort. It’s like he’s bringing attention to how frail your bones are, brushing the bone so lightly.

“Speak.”

“You— I’m sorry,” is all you know to spit out around the taste of the bitter floor in your mouth.

He tuts like your answer is just average, a boring C- at best. It seems to be all you know how to say, that and thank you.

“I don’t want trouble— I didn’t know I couldn’t look at you,” you stupidly explain.

“Have a little crush on me?”

You gulp, shaking your head. “N-No.”

He stands. “Why are you here?”

“Because you told me to—” your uncertain gaze flicks around his face but never connects to his eyes.

He interrupts you, repeating himself in a rougher tone, “Why are you here?”

You realize he’s asking why you were locked up.

“Speak. My impatience is not passive you’ll soon find out,” he snaps at you when you don’t immediately answer.

“I— I lost a bet. I needed money.” Technically not a lie, but you can see how your words imply that you robbed someone or something.

He uses a socked foot to nudge at your tummy, and you tense, praying he doesn’t lift it or lower it in either direction.

You’re bracing for a kick, a shove, something. Instead, he simply runs his foot down your abdomen until his toes brush the clothed skin above your pussy. You shiver in anticipated worry, looking up at him through your lashes like he’s a god given the right to deciding your fate.

Just when you think this is it, he’s going to push just an inch lower and notice your lack of dick— he loudly sniffles and walks out like nothing happened.

________________

Later, 11:25 am.

Your one reprieve after your humiliating morning is the library. Everyone has a job in prison— a 0.25$ paying job— but it’s better than nothing. You’d been lucky to land a job sorting books. Pushing a little cart around, organizing the collection of educational texts, self-help, religious, even things like the hunger games— it was nice.

That is, until your heart drops down to your ass when Sukuna pushes you against the shelf, chest pressing into your back.

You gasp, dropping the book in your grasp. Your mind immediately flicks to movies you’ve seen, involving a homemade shiv and a lot of blood, people who have nothing to lose and kill just for the hell of it. You’re an easy target too, smaller than the rest.

“You’re welcome,” he says casually into your ear. He’s not even pushing into you in an overtly sexual manner, just pinning you to the shelves.

You knew he was awake last night. But, he definitely didn’t intentionally protect you from Mahito, no, it had nothing to do with you. He’s taunting you.

You let out a shaky breath, daring to speak just above a whisper. “F—for what?”

“This is how it’s going to work,” he explains, hard hand gripping the back of your neck, “I’m going to fuck your ass, use you until that gratitude dries up and in return— no one will touch you.”

Oh shit. Your face pales. He’s explaining the concept of being a ‘bitch’ to you because it’s your first time in prison. Was it that obvious? (Yes.)

You let out a fearful whine under your breath, so quiet, but being so close, he hears it.

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted to thank me,” he mocks you, hot breath fanning your ear. Maybe in another universe, you’d beg the domineering man fuck you— as you. But if you want your gender to remain a secret in here, you have no choice but to get out of this.

“I— but,” You grip the shelf harshly, thinking of any excuse, “I’m a virgin!”

A pause. Did that actually work? You’re not an actual virgin, but you’ve never done anal— technically not a lie.

Your bated breath halts when he lets out a boisterous laugh. “Oh?” he drawls like a king on a throne.

You can almost guarantee he feels your heart thumping through your fucking back.

“You’re just a hole. Meant for use. Doesn’t matter to me, I truly don’t care.”

“I— please, I can’t do that for you. I want to— I really want to! But I can’t,” you breathe, hoping you haven’t offended his ego— which you assume is larger than this building. You want to be able to say yes, just so that you don’t have a target on your back.

“Tch,” he clicks in distaste, “I won’t injure you. Is that enough to address your concerns?” You think he mutters a ‘loser’ under his breath but you aren’t sure.

The fact that he’s even trying to quell your fears is surprising, and gives you a spec of hope. It also allows you to consider the idea of what his protection in exchange would mean. Everyone clearly fears Sukuna, you’d get through this year untouched— aside from the obvious.

“Uh—uhm,” you gulp, side glancing back at him as much as his grip will allow. “I’m insecure about uh.. my dick.”

His brows lower into a furrow, looking at you with judgement. “Fine,” he rolls his eyes, “your little cock won’t come out of its confines. Satisfied?”

Are you actually going to do this? Can you even pull this off? The fact that this man even wants to fuck you in the first place is completely out of the blue. You knew things like this happened in here, but from this guy?

You shift. “Why do you want this— with me?”

“I’m not gay,” he scoffs, “Fool. I simply need a flesh light.”

“Oh, and,” he pushes his nose into your head, behind your ear, and sniffs, “you smell nice, like a woman.”

You shiver. It’s horrifying that he can actually smell that on you without knowing it.

“Deal?”

You clench your eyes shut and nod.

He finally pushes off of you and mutters a ‘good’ before walking away and out of the library.

___________

You’ve never been one for the concept of anal. You’d glare whenever a boyfriend would even bring it up. It’s always felt inconsiderate, like you’re just being used when a more pleasurable hole is right there. You’re kind of nervous, but part of you is relieved.

Since you made the deal, Sukuna has ‘claimed’ you. He makes you grab his meals for him, sit across from him in the cafeteria, visible signs of ownership. The other inmates avoid you completely; even a minor bump into your shoulder in passing earns an apology. You’re his now, and everyone knows it. Off limits.

As for your end of the deal, you aren’t sure when Sukuna is going to be in the mood to fuck. You’ve been stealing peeks at him, watching too closely, hoping for a signal, but Sukuna noticed. After that time you practically jumped when he stood up from his bed, he gave you a glare that made your knees weak. Instead, you’ve decided to just wait for him to tell you when he’s ready.

A few days after your library talk, Sukuna finally gives you the signal.

It’s morning, and you wake to see him hovering over your bed once again.

You startle, sitting up quickly as you rub your eyes. “Wh— what happened?”

He tosses you a little bag of chips, the type you can only get from the confectionery, and your brows furrow down at it.

“Um,” you glance at him, unsure, “thank you.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Library, 12 pm. There’s a spot with no cameras in the back.”

Your eyes flicker in recognition, and your heart races as you nod. “Okay, I’ll— um— I’ll be there. That’s great. Sounds good.”

He deadpans at your pathetic attempt at speaking and walks off.

You can’t help but feel a weird affection placing the bag of chips under your bed, rolling your eyes at yourself. It’s a bag of chips, and you have more to worry about than catching feelings for this guy.

You have to prep.

The communal showers are sectioned by half walls and curtains. You’ve been able to shower, dry yourself, wrap your breasts, and get dressed all inside of the little shower section without anyone seeing your important body parts since you’ve been here. Still, you’d rather some privacy as you do what needs to be done today.

Thankfully, it’s empty when you check the showers while breakfast is taking place.

You stand there naked under the water, toes curling in nerves as you slowly bring the empty bottle up to fill it with water. A homemade douche. It’s mildly humiliating shooting water up your ass but it’s a necessary evil.

About a few hours later, you’re sorting books like your job entails, while anxiously glancing at the door and wall clock every two minutes with anticipation.

At 12:03 he pushes the door open, and you immediately turn your head back to face the shelves.

You hear him snap at the only person reading at a table, forcing them to leave. Your heart races when you hear him lock the entrance door behind them.

You stupidly pretend you’re deciding which shelf the book in your hands belongs on as his heavy footsteps close the distance between you.

He settles right beside you and you peek up at him.

“Come.” He nods his head, gesturing you to follow as he turns and leads you to the last isle, all the way to the back of the room.

“Right here?” You glance at the camera in the corner.

“Right here.”

You gasp when he grabs your hips and manhandles you over to the very corner of the isle, pressed into the shelf with your back to him. “It’s a blind spot.”

“Okay,” you lick your lips nervously, fumbling with the hem of your sweatpants. “I— how do we— should I just—?”

He squeezes his big hands over your shaky ones, stopping you. “Relax,” he snaps. “Ass fucking is not that difficult. It’ll be a lot easier for you than it is for women.”

You gulp at that, his (rude) reassurance means nothing considering the obvious.

He swats your hands away and you squeak when he pulls your sweatpants down enough to expose your ass to the chilly air.

You curiously glance back when you hear a click of a cap opening. He squirts an ungodly amount of lube into his palm and tosses it aside. (How did he even obtain lube in here?)

“Pretty fucking ass,” he says as if it’s an insult, using one hand to spread your cheek and slide a glob onto your hole with two fingers.

You cringe at the cold feeling of the gel as he rubs your hole, anticipating him shoving his finger in there.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you say wearily, “right?”

He rolls his eyes, using his middle finger to push at the resistance of the rim.

You gasp when it pops in. He slowly massages your insides in a manner to loosen the very edges, preparing the most taught of the muscles to stretch. It’s more weird than uncomfortable feeling something wiggling around in there.

“You’re lucky I’m doing this,” he rasps, “Virgin.”

“Thank you,” you squeak. He uses his free hand to shove your hips out a bit more.

He whispers as he pulls his finger out, “How’s it feel knowing you’re about to get fucked in the ass? Feel the shame yet?”

You gulp and clench your eyes shut when you catch a glimpse of his hefty cock being pulled out of his sweats. A large, scary winding vein catches your eye.

“Slow,” you chirp as he presses the tip to your ass, “please go slow.”

He notches his chin over your head, wrapping one arm around your tummy to push your back into his chest and grunts, “I will.”

His large body envelops you, like a hard hug. If it weren’t for his tip forcing your asshole to open up, you’d probably enjoy being held by a big man like this.

You hiss, unable to keep your hands from snapping back and digging your nails into his hips. The intrusion is uncomfortable, so odd and unnatural to have something this big pushing into your backside.

He doesn’t seem to mind your nails, undulating the tip around in circles within the very inside so you can get used to the feeling.

“That’s it,” he drawls, “open up.”

You let out a high-pitched whine and your ‘boy’ persona is thrown out of the window, completely irrelevant as he inches the rest of it in. He’s fully seated.

“Okay, okay,” you gasp, frantically tapping his hip and toned back, “don’t move yet.”

He exhales deeply, like he feels relaxed having finally mounted a warm hole. His warm huffs of breath calm you as they steadily fan the side of your head.

“Tick tock,” he hums after a minute of your hole pulsing around him in attempt to cope with the intrusion. “It will hurt less if I move.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, shaky hands moving to brace against the shelves. “Okay, fine.”

“Good.” He wraps one hand roughly around your mouth and his other arm holds your midsection taut to his front.

You squeal behind his hand when he pulls out and barrels back in with one hard rut. It hurts, but somehow, his large dick has reached your g-spot through your ass. You likely have a bulge in your tummy from the way his tip is angled to push down against your vaginal canal through the back door.

“Ahhh.” He tilts his head and rumbles an exhales right into your ear, like he’s dipping into a nice, warm hot-spring.

It doesn’t take long for him to set a rhythm, rocking his hips in short, hard thrusts. The contact of your cheeks meeting his hips creates a loud ‘plap,’ bouncing off the books in lewd repetition. His harsh breaths are the most you receive from him in terms of vocalized pleasure, but sometimes he offers a grunt.

Your feet shuffle with every hit, toes barely touching the ground as his strong hold keeps you up in the air like you’re just a human sized flesh light. He’s using you, and you can’t deny his incidental abuse of your g-spot feels good.

“You moan like a fuckin girl,” he hisses into your ear as he pounds your ass.

You can only moan under his palm, confirming his what he thinks is an insult. The jackhammering is short and mean, barely a few inches of his base exiting your puckering hole before stuffing it back inside.

“This ass is mine,” he grunts as your clit throbs with need, “Pathetic fuck. Letting a guy bend you over.”

Your legs shake as he grows frantic and mean, putting horrifying strength behind each thrust. You’re fucking like bunnies, your body frantically jostles up and down and you’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how he’s completely dominating you. A few books fall right off of the shelf and clatter to the carpeted floor with the force of it all. You wonder if he’s fucking you this hard because he thinks you’re a man, that you can and should be able to handle it.

You exhale sharply out of your nose, eyes clenched shut as you take his last few slams.

“Fuck!” He grunts, throwing his head back as his grip on you grows so harsh you’ll have bruises on your waist later. You feel his dick pulse as he dumps his load as deep as he can go into your ass, keeping his hips still against your irritated asscheeks.

Finally he sighs as he slides out, making your hole clench shut the second the intrusion is gone.

You practically stumble for balance as he lets you go, knees buckling. Pussy dripping and confused while your ass aches.

You want to just collapse right here, take a much needed rest, but you can’t risk an accidental flash of your pussy. You pull your sweatpants up, out of breath.

He tucks his dick back in, glancing down at you with a glow of physical relief on his face. “You took me well,” he licks his top teeth, tilting his head. “Did you enjoy getting your cherry popped?”

That was almost a compliment. Your insides are still screaming for an orgasm and a break simultaneously. You feel your face rise in temp, pathetically, and you can’t help but tuck your chin to your chest.

“Just fucked you and you’re getting shy.” He snickers with a look of disgust. “I think i’ll play with you again and again until I tire of this.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before moseying out of the library, adjusting his dick in his pants as he goes.

Somehow, you’d gotten away with the first fucking without revealing your secret. Aside from not having a chance to finish the job and rub yourself to a much needed orgasm, you’re quite proud of yourself.

Sukuna doesn’t speak to you more than usual following the act, he’s just not the type. Does one speak to their flesh light between uses?

That night, you almost believe you’re dreaming when you wake up to Sukuna’s weight lying directly on top of you. You couldn’t sleep comfortably on your sore ass, so you’d had to sleep on your tummy, giving him a perfect opportunity.

“Again,” he rasps into your ear, grinding against your ass. You must have done well earlier if he’s already back for more, or he’s fond of how your asshole feels.

You tiredly whine and lower your groggy tone to say, “But the guards will hear— and the others.”

He ignores your concerns and crawls down your body, yanking your sweats down. You squeak, pushing a hand under yourself to keep your pants up at the front.

You glance over your shoulder. “What are you— oh!”

He spreads your ass and licks a stripe up your asshole, terrifyingly close to your pussy. So close your pussy clenches in anticipation, having a sweet mind of its own.

He pauses as he looks down at your hole with furrowed brows. It’s dark enough that he won’t be able to see the feminine parts of you, you hope.

He doesn’t say a word about his pause, just brings his face back down and pushes his tongue into your ass. He wriggles it around and you cringe, gripping the sheets as he stimulates your sore hole. You can’t even tell if it feels good to have your ass ate, or if it’s the concept of this man with his face in your ass, or the fact that you’re just fucking horny and begging for scraps.

After one last lick from your hole all the way up to your lower back, he crawls up to lay on you with his lips to your ear.

“Why the fuck is your ass sweet?” he asks as he lifts his hips to yank his cock out. Your brows raise, almost letting out a snicker. It must be due to your pussy leaking wetness down to your ass all day since the library.

“I— I don’t know,” you mumble as he holds one of your cheeks open and slides his tip against your hole.

“Just,” he grunts as he pops the tip in, not even waiting before pushing in to the hilt, “stay quiet and I’ll be done in a second.”

You whine under your breath, fisting the sheets as your toes curl. His legs surround the outsides of yours as his arms wrap around your neck in a loose headlock. You aren’t sure you can stay quiet if he pounds you like he did before without his hand covering your mouth. Getting caught with his dick in your ass doesn’t sound so great.

But fuck, you suddenly don’t care because his abs clench as he lifts his hips and slides back in, already gaining a stead rhythm. It’s slower than before, but hard. Your eyes roll back at how passionate it is, fingers pressing into his pulsing arms around your neck. You can’t remember the last time a man truly put his heart into fucking you.

You think you may be able to enjoy this little arrangement after all, considering his dick is big enough to pound into your g-spot with every hump. Maybe his claim on you, the free use of it all, is charming too.

But then, he begins to slide a hand down under you and you freeze.

He’s reaching for your nonexistent dick.

You snap your hand down to grip his wrist, stopping him, but you know that he could bypass your frail hold if he really wanted to.

“D-Don’t touch,” you breathily murmur through his continued thrusts.

“Tch,” he grunts in distaste, “Won’t see your ugly dick. You should be thanking the gods that I’d even try to touch you.”

You wish you could allow him to touch, rub your clit, finger you, fuck you the proper way. But no matter how horny you are, you have to have a clear head about this. If he knew you were a woman, he could tell the guards— or worse, tell the other inmates and let them have a turn with you. That’s just the tip of the iceberg of the horrible things that could happen to you if you’re exposed.

“I know, I know,” you gulp, lips parting as he manages a particularly nice thrust, “just— next time. Okay? Next time.”

He huffs, exasperated and gives up, moving his hand away and instead uses it to dig into your hip to get a better angle.

“Fuuck,” you breathe in a particularly girly way as he reaches deeper, and he hisses in your ear in obvious pleasure. He seems to enjoy the way you ‘moan like a woman.’

“Good,” he thrusts, “little,” thrust, “hole.”

He cums with a last few pitiful humps and rubs his hips against your ass in a circle as if to make sure his cum is deeep in there.

You feel utterly spent when he pulls out, two loads in your ass just from today and you’re clocking out.

He doesn’t even give you another look as he gets up and stretches with a yawn, wet dick still hanging about his thigh.

You pull your sweats up with a grimace at how sore your asshole feels. If you weren’t so horny, you might be annoyed how beat up your insides feel.

You exhale in relief when he passes out the second he flops down into bed like any average man does. You’re already thinking of some way to fool him into thinking you have a cock by the next time he wants to fuck.

_______

You’ve stolen a cucumber from the kitchen. It wasn’t easy, but you managed.

Sukuna has you up against the cell bars and has grown quite confident in his ability to fuck you within an inch of your life. He doesn’t seem like he’s all that invested in you, after all, he still thinks of you as some boy he’s using to get off. But you’re still enjoying it as much as any woman can reasonably enjoy anal.

He definitely seems to enjoy fucking you too, because you can feel his thighs shake as he pounds into you.

He kicks your feet wider and reaches around you to grab at your ‘dick.’ “Gonna let me touch it now?”

You gulp, peeking down at his hand that finds the cucumber and grips it.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking hard.”

You would laugh in his face if he wasn’t obliterating your insides with heavy humps.

He slowly begins to knead your ‘cock’ and the only way you know that, is because the tip of the cucumber incidentally rubs against your clit with every one of his strokes.

“Oh shit,” you breathe, brows raising and blinking into an eye roll of surprise pleasure. The stimulation to your clit and g-spot is like heaven after two days of being pent up.

“Don’t— don’t stop,” you beg, making his brow quirk.

The second you start fucking back into his cock, like an auto-masterbater, Sukuna’s eyes roll and his orgasm appears in the distance.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, indifferent to the pain he could be causing and meets your thrusts half way. There’s no way you’re not waking the entire cell block with the slapping sound bouncing off the concrete walls.

You sigh in disappointment when he lets go of your ‘dick’ and uses both hands to grip your hips, thrusting harder than ever.

He hisses an inhale like it hurts, a string of saliva connecting your shoulder to his teeth— and cums as his feet slightly shuffle.

“Phew,” he exhales, pulling out and tucking his dick back in. He crashes right into bed, just like before, and leaves you throbbing and needy. Again.

_____________

Sometime in the middle of the night, Your cell.

Sukuna has turned ravenous, he wants to fuck everyday, at least twice. It’s a bit much because you have to prep the same day before anal, and you’ve had to turn him down. Not without worries of how he’d take the rejection with little explanation, but thankfully, all he did is tsk and walk off.

One day of no sex, and he’s been staring at you through the entire day. When you wake up, in the cafeteria, on walks, while you draw on your bed. It’s frightening since you can’t read his expression that’s always resting in a threatening way. Would it be stupid to ask what he’s feeling?

Honestly, you just wanted him to wait until you could prep, and then he could have at it— but he didn’t get the message. And it’s not like you can just tell him, ‘Hey Sukuna, you can fuck my ass anytime now. Clock’s ticking!’ That’d mean you’re actively seeking anal, and that’s ridiculous. Right?

You shrug it off and decide to ignore his stare, focusing your attention on the book in your hands. He’s a big boy, if he needs something, he’ll ask for it.

And ask for it, he does.

You gasp when you’re suddenly pushed down flat to your bed, strong hands spreading your legs so Sukuna can rest between them as your book clatters to the floor. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps, or the creak of his bed as he stood.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, looking up at him with your heart racing out of your chest. “You scared me.”

His clothed bulge is hovering just above your pussy, but if he rested his weight down a few inches, you’re fucked. Maybe literally.

He must have just showered, his hair is damp and dark pink. He looks down at you hungry, like you’re not a person but a fucktoy with a timed lock on it that’s almost ready to use again, licking his bottom lip. “Does this fix your problem? Can I fuck you now, princess?”

Your brows furrow, an obvious question mark on your expression. You ignore the pet name meant to taunt you, because you’re not a man with toxic masculinity.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not kissing you. Missionary is as romantic as I’ll get. Take it or leave it.”

What? He must have misinterpreted your rejection as a desire for more intimacy and affection when you have sex. The idea of missionary with Sukuna makes your tummy flutter— but you can’t.

You press your lips together, concealing a laugh. “Oh. Um— no,” you gently press against his chest, “I like how we usually do it.”

“You know,” he leans into your face, “I’m getting real tired of you bossing me around.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, recalling your excuse for keeping your dick out of sight, “I just feel— uh—insecure.”

“Fuck that,” he grunts, grabbing hold of the hem of your sweats, “Only way to get over that shit is to face it.”

You grasp his wrist, nervously. It’s not like you don’t want Sukuna to know you’re a woman so you can fuck the way you want to, it’s just too complicated and risky.

“I— really, let’s just do it against the wall, like we always do!” you attempt to convince him as he pulls against your hold.

He doesn’t say a word, just squints at you like he can smell bullshit in your words.

Suddenly, he yanks your pants all the way down until they fall to the floor and you immediately cup your sex, trying to hide from him. You twist your lower half to lie on your side, legs bent around his side so they can stay together.

He glances down at your lower half and grips your thigh. “Show me,” he snaps, more suspicious than warranted if he actually believed your lies of insecurity.

You shake your head stubbornly, clenching your eyes shut.

“Now,” he allows the word to reverberate against the walls of the cell, and you swear you can feel the vibrations in your chest.

That domineering tone is like a frequency that emits a wave of submission in timid people like you, like a lions roar to a cornered bunny.

Still, you don’t open your legs.

He scoffs a huff of air, like he’s in disbelief of your sudden ability to grow balls. Pun intended.

You peek your eyes open when you feel him shift to crawl down your body until his breath is fanning your hand covering your pussy and naked asshole.

You squeak when he slides his tongue against your fingers. “Open up,” he taunts, giving your asshole a little lick as well.

You whimper as he begins licking at your hand and your thighs, resolve dissolving with every warm, wet touch.

“I’m— I’m scared,” you admit with panic, though you’re being too vague for him to actually console you even if he wanted to.

He takes a big bite out of your thigh and you gasp, pussy clenching in need from the sting. Your wetness has made your hands slippery, and the second he takes another bite, this time a deep one on your fingers, your hand slips away with a sting and a hiss.

He takes the opportunity to yank your legs apart, spreading them over each of his thighs till you’re on full display in front of him. Like a plate.

Your wide eyes flick from your exposed pussy, to his red eyes trained down between your legs. You quickly reach to futilely cover yourself once again.

“Aht!” he scolds, pinning your wrists to the bed on either side of your body before they can cover your sex again. “Don’t fucking move,” he snaps, inches from your face.

You must have the expression of a small animal being prepped for slaughter as he closely eyes you because that’s exactly how you feel. You watch his face shift as he realizes your features aren’t just girly, you’re a fucking girl.

“Please.” You plead him, but for what exactly?

He exhales into you, ignoring you to observe your body. He lets go of one wrist to slowly raise the hem of your shirt up to your collarbones, revealing a tightly wrapped chest.

As if he needs to make sure, he rips it away and blinks at your bouncing tits. One last look at your pussy and he huffs harshly, gazing into your eyes like he just won the lottery.

“Holy shit.”

You’re mute, afraid and frozen in place as your legs clench around his hips, trying to close them around him even though it’s impossible.

“Why are you here?”

He watches you with equal parts curiosity and amused awe.

“I— I made a deal. A stupid fucking deal,” you breathe in your natural feminine voice. It’s not hard to assume the deal was money for time in prison.

He shakes his head, laughing airily like he can’t believe his eyes. “Now this is so very interesting. A woman in my cell.”

He leans into your ear, making your chest and tummy erupt in goosebumps. “I knew your little asshole was too good to be true.” He nips your ear and you whine.

“Don’t— please don’t tell anyone.”

Your quiet request makes him burst out laughing, head tossing back as he hovers over you territorially.

“Tell them?” A vein in his forehead pops as his gaze manically flicks back and forth from each of your eyes, “No, you foolish little thing. You’re all mine. You’d have to fucking kill me to share this pretty pussy.”

You aren’t sure if you should feel relived or scared. You’ve grown fond of Sukuna’s cock, but that look in his eye is downright diabolical.

“You’re,” you begin with a swallow, “not gonna hurt me?”

“Ohhh,” he breathes cathartically like he’s battling aggression seeing something so small and delicate beg not to be broken. “No, no. I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

You aren’t so sure, if that glint in his eye and tone in his deep voice tells you anything. Like mouse encountering a perfect piece of cheese suspiciously sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, begging to be eaten.

He leans in and lays a soft kiss to your cheek, making you blink.

“See?” he hums smiling, “I know exactly how to handle with care.”

He presses his nose to your neck and starts sniffing you loudly, like a dog— down to your breasts, your tummy, and finally he takes a good long sniff of your pussy.

You slap your hands to your face in embarrassment and he groans loudly on an exhale, jaw pinching as he clenches his teeth. “Fuuuck. Nothing quite like it. Your pussy smells very nice,” he trails off with a manic laugh, licking his lips.

His eye catches on your pinched brows once you hesitantly pull your hands away to grip the sheets and he leans into your face with a careful kiss to your jaw. “Deal still on, baby?”

You absolutely have no choice, you need his protection now more than before. Without this deal, there’s no telling what he’d do— no matter what he says. And even if he keeps his word, who’s to say no one else will find out your secret? It helps that he’s hauntingly sexy with a big dick he knows what to do with.

You gulp, nodding. “Yes, please.”

“Goood,” his lip curls as he drawls the word out, “That’s very good.”

He licks a wet stripe up the side of your face, making you grip his biceps.

“Are we going to have sex? My— You want my—”

He interrupts your stutter by humming against your cheek with amusement. “Oh yes. I want your pussy. I’m gonna take it over and over again.”

You exhale a sigh, eyes slightly rolling back, enjoying his words a little too much for the situation at hand.

“I’m not on birth control,” you warn him weakly as he begins to suck on your neck.

He hums nonchalantly, slowly sliding his hand down your tummy.

Your hips jerk when he cups your entire sex, long cold fingers pressing into your warm folds that are just begging for love.

“We don’t have condoms,” you add, biting your lip as he uses two middle fingers to carefully brush from your slippery hole up to your clit.

He chuckles against your neck, wickedly, like he’s enjoying every aspect of this conversation.

“No, we don’t,” he agrees with a smile you can literally hear on his voice.

Your jaw drops as he starts rubbing leisurely circles against your throbbing clit, back arching to press your abdomen into his hard abs.

“You have to pull out,” you whine in a broken moan.

“Okay,” he agrees with ease, moving to press his lips to yours.

You barely kiss him back, as his lips slide and suck on yours.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to kiss me,” you say, muffled as your legs tremble.

He moves his middle fingers down and slides one into your core, making you gasp into his mouth.

He abruptly shoves his tongue into your mouth, sliding and flicking against your tongue. He peeks the tip of his pointer finger in to join his middle inside you, and once your initial ring of resistance gives, he shoves it in like a glove.

“Oh,” you whine, brows pinching and toes curling. “Your fingers are so— fuck— they’re big.”

“Oho,” he breathes as he unhurriedly rocks them in and out, “You’ve been so unsatisfied, haven’t you? Getting ass fucked with not one touch to your pretty, crying little pussy.”

You nod erratically, “I was just so scared if you found ou— oh god.”

He gradually puts weight behind his thrusts, fingering you at an angle to abuse your g-spot.

“You thought I would want to hurt you,” he assumes with a pitying smile, “No, no. I just wanna fuck the shit out of you.”

You reach down and grip his wrist, but his hand in motion makes it difficult.

“Please make me cum,” you beg, “I’d be really— so grateful.”

“Yeah?” He presses a peck to your lips and crawls down to stuff his face between your legs. “Finally,” he sighs to your pussy.

He glances up at you and pecks your jumping clit. “Gonna eat your pussy. You want that?”

Your eyes roll back and you nod pathetically. “Oh my god, yes.”

He doesn’t waste time. He makes a pursing motion with his lips and basically sucks your clit into his mouth like a vacuum, gently suckling on it with his eyes blissfully closed. His free hand rests around your hip and flat against your lower tummy.

Your brain is fucking buzzing, toes curling in the air as you breathe short, pathetic breaths. You’re delightfully surprised he knows you need your clit stimulated to cum; a man in prison just isn’t the type you’d expected to know what most women need.

You use both hands to gently curl into his pink hair, watching his lips envelop your clit as the motion of his hand rocks into you.

“That feels good,” you affirm, voice shaky, making sure he knows he’s going a good job so he doesn’t feel motivated to stop.

He doesn’t answer you, just flicks his tongue against your clit with horrifying stamina, like his tongue is as trained as the rest of his body. You don’t feel a second of lag in his force behind his tongue and that yummy suction.

You melt when he transitions into thorough, flat tongued licks, the kind that nudges your clit in a way that’s not too overstimulating— but genuinely pleasurable in a sustainable way. You could actually cum like this. You rub his head like a masseuse, kneading the skin affectionately, making his brows and forehead slightly move with your massage.

He eats you like he hasn’t eaten his favorite meal in a long time, and considering the slop in the cafeteria, your delirious mind thinks it makes perfect sense that he’s probably soo hungry. It’s not his fault he’s so eager.

Your toes curl as your abdomen clenches inward, honing your focus to find an orgasm in the distance with every specifically pressurized slide of his tongue.

He tilts his head idly, side to side and the second he finds that perfect angle to the left, you gasp and yank his head impossibly closer.

“Right there, huh?” is the last thing he says before repeating the motion perfectly, over and over and over while his hand continues at ample speed. It’s about 27 licks in when the white blinds your sight and you give in to the ecstasy of an orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you— fuck!” you stupidly babble the one phrase you can’t seem to stop repeating to the man ever since you met him, voice strained and slurring as your brain short circuits and cuts off the connection between your motor skills and brain signals.

Even when you fall limp with fading euphoria, frailly whining, ‘no more,’ his big mouth attaches to your entire slit like a fucking milk pump, despite acknowledging your orgasm passing by discarding his wet fingers to join his other hand on your hip/tummy area.

It’s an interesting sight— your weak, spasming body jerking in overstimulation as he blissfully hallows his cheeks and enjoys your cunt with all kinds of tongue techniques. The type of techniques a stupidly rich man has learnt after so many wine tastings to get the full taste profile of every berry inside to layer over his every tastebud. Getting his full money’s worth of this favorite thing.

But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to be licked, even with the ultra sensitivity of an after glow.

“Sukuna— please,” you whimper, “Aren’t you gonna fuck me?”

That’s what makes him pause, flicking open his relaxed, heavily lidded gaze.

He unsuctions your warm folds, letting go in one popping motion and you exhale sharply when the cold air hits you.

He crawls up your body like a predator, more than twice your size. He slides his arms under your back to hold you flush to his body, hugging you in a possessive hold. One hand wraps around the back of your neck, fingers almost meeting at the front, and the other massages your lower back.

“Am I popping your pussy cherry too?” he hums, lips brushing yours as he speaks into your mouth.

“No,” you huff, “Is that a deal breaker?”

He nips your lower lip. “I’m gonna eat you whole,” he expresses how deeply he wants to fuck you— how small a concern like being a virgin would be to him.

You shiver, and maybe even start to consider why he’s in prison in the first place. Eat you.. whole..?

“Can we fuck first?”

He licks his teeth as his metaphorical tiger tail flicks behind him— like a bunny has triggered a tigers instinct to play while in the midst of a chase. If he could purr, he would be right about now.

Interrupting your little moment, the breakfast bell rings. Sukuna must have made his move an hour before six while you were reading the night away and neither of you noted the time. Sukuna had thought it’d be a 10 minute ass fuck, but now that he’s stumbled upon gold in the form of a woman, he’s gotten distracted.

You’re expecting Sukuna to be frustrated that you have to stop before you even reached the main event, but surprisingly, he just helps you get dressed and then stands lazily by the cell bars to cover you while you wrap your chest so no one eyes his plaything.

The guard just passes by boredly, doing morning checks, nodding at Sukuna in brief greeting.

Once the guard is out of sight, you huff in exhaustion and sit up on your bed. After all the fear of being exposed as a woman and having an orgasm like that, all you want is to sleep. You literally nod off as you sit there, listening to the ruffle of Sukuna throwing on some new clothes.

Two taps to your cheek makes you startle, slurping up some drool as you open your eyes. Sukuna squats in front of you, holding your knees.

“Breakfast,” he reminds you, “get up.”

You pout at his tone, having hoped he’d soften up to you after learning you’re a woman. A woman he desperately wants to fuck and protect and own.

“Can’t you bring it to me?”

He blinks at you, deadpanning. “The fuck did you just say?”

You flinch a bit, chin tucking into your chest. You grow even more alert as he stands and pushes over you, making you lean back in bed with your palms behind you, supporting your weight right beside his own larger ones.

“Does this pretty little thing want to be punished?”

You immediately bite your lip, smiling as he pushes his head into your neck to nip at it.

“Mhm, keep doing that,” you encourage his panty dropping neck kisses.

Oncoming footsteps leading closer and closer to your cell make your heart jolt, and suddenly he roughly pushes you down flat with a veiny hand tight around your throat.

“Begging for a beating so early in the morning are we, boy?” he rasps, menacingly, as the inmate walks past, peeking at your altercation briefly before scurrying off in fear of becoming involved in Sukuna’s business.

You smile.

Oh. This’ll be fun.

______

SORRY edged you there, didn’t I?

Also not sure if this counts as gender bend? Lmk if I should add it to the warnings!

Chapter 2| Judgement

Higuruma leaned over the desk as he gathered all possible information about the case. Even his assistant had collected everything, connecting all the points. 

After over a week of studying, he understood one thing—if he wanted to save you, he had to expose the underground racket.

It wasn't an easy job, considering he is a private attorney without support, and his assistant already trying hard to keep up with everything.

Still wondering taking this much risk even worth it... for someone like you, who left him for some quick pleasure and fun?

Few years ago In Tokyo university

Higuruma, a 22-year-old law student, already in his second year, was considered a prodigy. Not that he cared still everyone already hyped him.. The was you his charming girlfriend also daughter of well known family law firm

Despite polar opposite personality and lifestyle you automatically drawn to Higuruma especially the way he carries himself, his personality, his ideology and looks no doubt you already knew this guy will be the one. 

As for Higuruma he wasn't looking for relationship but he noticed how much stick you are with him. Also make sure he remain connected with other classmates, bring him snacks or food make sure he taking care of himself.. or brings books . Despite all nagging he can't help but love how much you care about him... 

Most of your time together is spent studying in the library, or him teaching you random subjects while you try to distract him. You never wanted to be a lawyer in the first place—it was your parents who pushed you into it.

Still, Higuruma somehow makes every case and subject sound interesting when he explains it. Sometimes it gets annoying though, especially when you're lying on his bed and he's still talking about some random topic.

But he gives the best cuddles. You love clinging to him, and he just buries his face in the crook of your neck like that's where he belongs.

He's kind of adorable... you think. 

Just like that, one day you both were in the library. Higuruma had fallen asleep over his books, head resting on the desk.

You came back with a shortcake even though eating there was banned, you sneaked it in anyway. 

You leaned closer, trying to wake him up. "....Hiromi~"

He stirred, slowly when he saw you.

You laughed quietly. "You look so dumb and cute right now."

He sat up, still half-asleep, while you opened the box. He started eating the cake slowly while you watched him.

Then you asked, "Hiromi~ you work so hard... at this point you'll become an old man before hitting 25."

He chuckled lightly. "You're still with me.... And someone has to work hard if we want change in the system."

You sat on the table, placing one foot on his thigh. "And you don't always have to be a cog in the wheel..."

Higuruma blinked, like he didn't fully understand. You just shrugged, then leaned in and kissed him. "You know, honey... after marrying me, you'll have everything. A whole team working under you... isn't that the best way to escape all this hard work?"

Higuruma narrowed his eyes slightly but didn't say anything. He just went back to reading.

You pouted, annoyed, and poked his cheek. "Oi—"

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed both your wrists and pulled you in, kissing you more deeply this time.

"Excuse me! This is a library!" the librarian snapped.

You both pulled back quickly.

A sharp voice cut through "No indecent behavior in the library!"

Higuruma leaned closer for a second before taking back "I can work hard for us. For you and me. I don't want someone else's support."

Your heart skipped. "Ugh... you're so annoying, dummy."

Later on, Higuruma rested in the bathtub while you played with his hair, covering it in foam and shaping it into something ridiculous.

"Stay still," you muttered. "I'm making you look decent for once."

"This is unnecessary."

"Shut up."

You laughed as your fingers dragging through his hair again just to mess it up more. "You look stupid... I like it."

He barely reacted at first just watching you quietly. Then his hand came up, resting on your waist, pulling you a little closer without warning.

"You're distracting," he said.

"You weren't doing anything," you shot back.

You leaned in more, still pretending to fix his hair. "Or are you just weak?"

His grip tightened slightly, and before you could pull away, he tilted his head, pressing closers to your clavicle "You talk too much."

"And you—"

He pulled you in properly this time, cutting you off, the kiss deeper, less patient than before more gently. Your hand slipped from his hair to his shoulder, gripping slightly as you leaned into him.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn't far. His forehead almost touching yours.

"...Still think I'm weak?" he murmured.

"Annoying.... But I love you" you muttered.

Later on, once you settled down, you got a call from your mom. She asked about your university life, and you told her how much you were enjoying it.

Then she asked about your boyfriend.

You got excited immediately, telling her everything about Higuruma—how hardworking he was, how serious, how different he was. You didn't even notice how much you were smiling while talking about him. Your mom seems interested in it hence she invited both of you for lunch 

As soon as the call ended, you went straight to him, barely able to contain yourself. "Baby, did you hear me? My mom invited you to lunch at my place—I'm so excited."

"Oh," he said calmly, "that's cool. I'd love that."

On Sunday, you took Higuruma to your family estate.

Higuruma watched everything quietly, like he was analyzing it. You were already used to this habit of his, so you didn’t mind. Instead, you happily introduced him to your family.

“Hiromi, this is my mom… and dad,” you said, smiling.

Your parents seemed pleased. 

“So you’re the one, prodigy?!” your father said with a small laugh, looking him up and down. “Heard quite a bit about you.”

Higuruma nodded slightly. “Nice to meet you.”

At the dining table, your old man kept laughing, talking about his cases like they were some kind of comic stories.

“…and then the guy just admits it himself,” he laughed. “I didn’t even have to do anything.”

You poked your food, already bored. You’d heard this tone a hundred times. "Wow... So impressive"

Your father ignored that as his focus on Higuruma, who somehow, matched the energy just enough to be polite. “I see....That simplifies the process.”

Your father pointed at him immediately. “Exactly! You get it.”

You looked at Higuruma you know he doesn't enjoy this just being polite

“Hiromi~” you whispered  nudging his leg, “blink twice if you need help.”

“…I’m fine,” he replied flatly.

Once dinner was over, your father took Higuruma to his study.

Inside, the old man started showcasing everything—files, framed cases, documents stacked neatly. He talked about each one like it meant something bigger, like proof of what he had built.

“My work... Of years ” he said, tapping one of the files lightly. "Each one of these cases built something. Reputation, connections… influence.”

“People don’t understand this field,” he added with a small smile. “They think it’s about right and wrong. It’s not. It’s about results...." 

"But I'm telling this to you after all... After me it's you your legacy" 

“Imagine it,” your father went on. “The name, the firm, the resources. You wouldn’t have to struggle your way up. With your ability, you’d take this much further than I ever could.”

Higuruma finally spoke.

“Mr. L/N,” he said calmy “I respect what you’ve built.” He paused. "But I can't accept any of it"

“I care about her,” Higuruma continued, “but I don’t want to tie myself to something like this. I want to work independently. I’m not someone who can operate under—”

“You’re limiting yourself,” your father cut in smoothly. “There’s no point struggling when everything is already in front of you.”

Higuruma didn’t raise his voice. “I don’t see it as struggle.”

Your father studied him now,  “You’re young...You’ll understand how things actually work with time.”

Higuruma met his gaze. “I already understand.”

Your father exhaled lightly, trying to maintain polite—but the persuasion was gone now,  “And this is your final answer?”

“Yes.”

Thinking about all that now… it sounded stupid. Higuruma muttered to himself after all it's fourteen years...you were married now widow with small girl 

And somehow—you are his client as none else taking your case because of all complications and risks. His gaze lifted to the board—pictures, documents, everything pinned together.

It stopped on yours.

For a moment, he just looked and though of the night when you kissed him all memories were flooding back which he hated... Why you act like this when you ruined everything..

There is no point of it no point thinking about it all he cares about case 

It had been for a long time.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

To be continued...