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❝suguru geto thought he was all alone in the world – until he found you. his muse, his lover, and eventually, his biggest mistake❞
WC 11.2k
CONTENT mdni, heavy angst, smut, some fluff too, vampire au, A LOT of blood, murder, blood drinking, depression, suicidal ideation (implied), trauma, yearning, heavy pining, suguru is obsessed with you, extremely avoidant reader, falling in love, first kiss, making out, oral (f+m receiving), piv sex, timeskips, arguments, love confessions, doomed love kinda, happy ending
A/N this is inspired by "interview with the vampire". art by @/chosoenjoy3r + dividers by @droideplane & @uzmacchiato
What does it mean to be lonely?
Not just in the physical sense. Being alone is a fact of life, an empirical truth that cannot be escaped – but being lonely? That's different.
Lonely is when you lose all hope of not being alone.
When your environment has consistently been empty, devoid of familiar faces and friendly touch for far too long. Then that feeling starts to slowly make its way inside, weave itself in through the very fabric of your being, starting to take hold and germinate like weeds in a garden.
Until the emptiness is fully settled inside.
Empty.
Devoid of hope.
Numb.
A black void of nothing.
The worst thing a vampire could be was lonely.
That's what Suguru Geto used to think.
Back when he roamed the earth alone, destined to walk moonlit streets only, seeking his prey in the dark. It was a life he had grown accustomed to, but every single time he hunted, he was hoping he could find someone else. Just one person.
One person to exchange a kind word with. A soft caress maybe, to breathe life back into this dead body of his.
Just someone like him. Who understood.
The worst thing a vampire could be was lonely, Suguru thought before he met you. Now he knows the pain of heartbreak was far greater.
Because how cruel does this cursed existence have to be, to give one a sliver of hope – and then brutally take it all away again?
You made Suguru realised he wasn't a dark void after all, because if his heart hurt this much, it was surely still there.
Dead, unmoving, but there.
It changed everything.
You changed everything.
You.
In all his years, no – centuries alone, you finally came to him like an angel in the night. Dripping in blood, the red crimson mixing with your skin and glowing under the full moon.
You hadn't noticed him straight away, which he thought amusing. Considering the amount of work Suguru had put into his stealth abilities, he was glad to see it could work even on those of his kind. It also gave him just a few seconds longer to just…watch.
You were pinning down someone under you, teeth deep into their neck as you gorged yourself. Nothing more than an animal at that point, reminding Suguru of the worst part of his condition. But such a primitive, hideous sight was made mesmerizing by you.
You were like a painter.
Blood was your ink. The street was your canvas.
Did you know he was watching? Was that why you took your time in that way?
Suguru always drank with nothing but disgust for himself, swallowing the other person's essence as fast as he could as if a quick death was somehow an apology.
Such a disgusting act shouldn't be made so beautiful.
Where had you even come from?
Suguru had roamed this continent for years and had never met anyone else.
Here you were – the answer to all his prayers. Maybe they weren't going on deaf years after all. Maybe he still deserved a little respite, despite being what he was.
Suguru wanted to cry, but he held it in so to not disturb you. The worst thing that could happen was startle you and have you ran away.
At that moment though, he had decided he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if he had to.
An odd promise made to someone not even aware of his existence yet, but Suguru was desperate – he needed you. Hadn't even met you, but he fucking needed you.
You finally tilted your head upwards, fangs fully on show, red on white.
And then you saw him.
He noticed how your eyes immediately met his, like an invisible thread had pulled you to him. The eyes of a beast, deformed like his were, an unnatural colour that matched the blood you were wiping from your chin.
Suguru saw you get ready to run away, with the way your legs tensed and your posture rearranged. But he was quick to put his hands up, taking a quiet step in your direction.
You cocked your head sideways, assessing. Understanding.
And then your beautiful lips parted.
"How long have you been watching?" you finally asked, the small hint of a prideful smirk tugging at the edges of your lips.
What a beautiful sound it was. Suguru couldn't breathe – your voice was nearly as gorgeous as your beautiful face, now fully visible to him.
You were his salvation. He was sure of it.
An angel sent from above. Or… below, in this case.
"I didn't know there were others" he heard himself say, voice shaking just like the hands he hid in his pockets; too worried of anything that might make you look down on him.
You stared at him for a moment. Taking him in, your head tilted in curiosity.
And then your posture dropped a little, less guarded and more sad. Pitiful, even.
"How long have you been alone?"
That's when the first tears started pouring out of Suguru's red eyes, his body reacting to your question before his mind could.
He felt himself sink to his knees, falling to your feet, tears spilling and spilling like they hadn't in years. Probably not since before he had lost his mortality.
You could have run away. Could have laughed at him, thought him weak like his maker had, and left to find your next victim.
To expect compassion from a vampire was far beyond reason.
But you didn't do that.
Instead, you walked towards him. Slowly, carefully, maybe even wondering if this had been a trap. It didn't hurt to be cautious, not in this world. Not for who you were.
You lowered yourself on your knees – so close, much closer than he had been to anyone he didn't intend on drinking blood from in the past centuries. And then you extended a tentative hand, and cupped his cheek.
"I know what it's like" you murmured.
Suguru didn't mean to throw himself at you like he had, but all reason had left him the second you spoke to him so kindly. His arms crossed your back, pulling you into him and crashing onto you at the same time, crying onto your chest so loud it might alert other people to the crime scene you currently found yourselves on.
But nothing else mattered at that moment.
He had found you.
His angel.
The feeling of arms around his back was foreign to him at this point – how long had it been since someone pulled him in instead of away? Since someone held him?
Your skin was as cold as his, but he could swear his heart felt warm.
And as Suguru cried tears of grief and of relief, you slowly caressed his long strands, shushing him with gentleness a creature like him did not deserve.
Suguru wasn't even sure how long you held him like that. So patient.
You were perfect.
He took you to his apartment that night – you were surprised he even had one. But in all his years alive, or, dead, really, he felt a bit of comfort was necessary. After too long roaming aimlessly, Suguru just wanted a home.
He just never expected he'd actually get to invite someone in, and expose a little more of himself than he had intended. But Suguru wanted to try.
You told him your name. An old sound, not native to this land and maybe, to any of the modern day. But you refused to say more; to tell him who was your maker or how long you had been like this, so Suguru didn't pry.
You wanted to move forward, you explained. Look ahead instead of behind. That sounded great to him – Suguru was never able to look at anywhere but the past. His regrets. The wrong turns he had made. Maybe you could help change that.
Another curious thing about you was that you didn't speak of your vampire condition with hatred at all. To you, living forever was exciting, not a curse. You spoke of lands you wished to see and things you still wanted to do.
The world changed every day and you were changing with it. It was a beautiful perspective, something he had never even considered.
But when he asked of the things you missed, you stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
"What's the point of reminiscing" you scoffed, and Suguru could tell there was a splinter there somewhere.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to–"
"Don't be" you interrupted, looking him in the eyes once more. If he had a living heart, it would have beat faster, he was sure of it. "Are you hungry?" you squinted, so good at reading him already.
"I try not to over indulge" he explained. He worried you might call him weak for admitting he hated to kill, but you seemed more confused than anything.
"It's almost dawn" you muttered. "Will you be ok until nightfall?"
Were you worried about him?
"I am used to it" he tried to smile.
You were still not convinced.
"You don't like the taste?" you asked, one brow raising as if trying to conceal your judgment.
"It's not that, it's–" he struggled with his words, letting out a long sigh. "I don't like inflicting pain"
Your lips turned into an almost smile, amused. "But you're a vampire" you said, as if he didn't already know.
"Am I?" he teased, letting out a self deprecating chuckle.
You laughed with him. Head falling forwards just slightly, your pointy teeth in full display as you let out the sweetest laugh he had heard in centuries.
"I'd assume so" you teased back. "Fangs, check. Red eyes, check" you paused, humming with a finger to your chin. "Perhaps you are just a deformed human?"
Suguru laughed with you. "I haven't seen my face in years, but I'd hope it wasn't deformed"
"No" you smiled. "It's a very handsome face"
That gave him pause, his mouth hanging open before he could blurt out the next taunt in your back and forth.
You thought he was handsome?
He had heard it often, back when he was alive. But being unable to see his reflection was one of the curses of a vampire.
Truth was, he didn't even remember his human face anymore.
"It is?" he asked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
"It is" you smiled. And then you brought your hand to his face, a single finger ghosting over his cold skin. You took your time in tracing every curve and ridge of his skin, your eyes tracking your finger like you were making a mental map for later.
"I like the shape of your eyes" you murmured. "And of your cheeks"
Suguru almost pulled you into a kiss right then, but he was left completely frozen under your touch. It had been years, no – centuries, since someone touched him with such kindness. Looked at him like something to admire instead of fear.
"How is mine?" you asked suddenly, dropping your hand despite how much he wanted you to keep going.
"What?" he murmured, like snapping back from a trance.
"How is my face?" you repeated.
Oh, he smiled, unsure of where even to start. Suguru had many words for it. Beautiful, mesmerising, gorgeous.
But instead, he said–
"I could show you"
Your eyebrows immediately drew closer, head tilting to the side in confusion.
"What do you mean?" you asked.
"I can draw" he nodded to the small notebook lying on the table, some white pages scattered around it. "Would you like me to draw you?"
It was your turn to be completely frozen in place now. He could have sworn your lower lip wobbled a little, tears starting to form in your beautiful eyes, though you swallowed them as best as you could.
"Could you?" you asked. "I don't even remember what I look like"
"I know what that's like" he echoed the words you had said earlier in the evening.
Something happened between the two of you then.
One of those things only poets could really do justice. It felt like that invisible thread had tugged the two of you just a little closer.
And in your face, a myriad of emotions – gratitude. Acknowledgment. Kinship between monsters, who didn't feel very monstrous at all in this moment in time.
Suguru pulled out his materials – parchment paper and ink, while his model watched patiently.
"How do you want me?" you asked, sounding a little nervous, if he had heard it right.
There were a million ways Suguru could answer that question.
"You're perfect just like that" he replied.
Your eyes blinked, whole face tensing before it relaxed finally, and you sat back a little more on the sofa you shared.
"It's mean to tease" you complained with an adorable frown.
"It's just the truth" he hummed, starting to prepare.
The first step was looking at his subject. Suguru took his time to take in every little detail of your expression, unable to ignore how you struggled to hold his gaze or how you tried to force your lips to not smile.
How did he get this lucky?
Eventually the pen did touch the paper, tracing dark lines carefully, hoping his hands would be skilled enough to capture even a fraction of your charm.
You waited calmly, the most patient subject he had ever had. It had been a long while since anyone allowed him to paint them like this – not since this cursed had removed him from society and life.
He had long felt unable to walk among the living.
But now with you, he'd happily walk among the dead.
"Let me see" you said as soon as his hands put the pen down. Not that patient, it seemed.
Suguru turned the paper around, and your hands wrapped around it to bring them closer. Your eyes darted from one corner of the page to the other, taking in everything, every single thing.
"It's beautiful" you whispered.
"You are" Suguru agreed.
You turned to him, and he noticed you were crying.
"Is this what I look like?" you asked, holding the drawing close.
It was Suguru's turn to cup your cheek, thumb brushing under your eyes. "I was only able to capture a fraction of your beauty"
You swallowed thickly, lip trembling, and then you turned to the picture again. "They used to say I had my mother's eyes" you whispered, brushing a finger over the drawing. "I haven't seen her eyes in years"
Suguru didn't know what to say to that. He didn't remember his family's faces either.
You looked back at him, clutching the drawing to your chest.
"Thank you" you whispered among the tears.
Suguru couldn't take it any longer.
He leaned forwards, slamming his lips across yours as your hands gladly found his long strands, pulling him desperately closer to you.
How long had it been since he had been kissed?
He couldn't even remember.
Your mouth eagerly parted for him, accepting him, inviting him, your own tongue searching for his as neither of you cared about how messy you were. Lips, tongues, teeth – all slamming together in a dance of pure need.
He only noticed you were bleeding when he felt the metallic taste on his tongue, reawakening his empty stomach. "I'm sorry–" he said, kissing your lips over and over where he had impulsively bitten them.
But you laughed. "Are you that hungry?" you teased.
"I couldn't help it, I–" he tried to explain.
I just wanted you whole, is what he would have said, maybe. I just need you too much.
But your laugh once again interrupted all thoughts going through his head.
He watched you bring your forearm to your mouth, biting right in the middle of it, and extending the dripping red to him.
"You can feast on me" you said. "I'm already dead"
Suguru didn't know if you were taunting him for his comment earlier, but he gratefully accepted. Vampire blood wouldn't fill him up like human, but it would definitely help quench his hunger.
His lips closed where you had bitten your skin, swallowing your essence as his eyes closed and his throat hummed.
No one had ever tasted this sweet.
He was lost in it. Addicted from a single taste.
His hands held each side of your arm, pulling you closer to him as he gorged on you.
And then you made a sound – small, unintentional, and beautiful. Suguru snapped his fox eyes open to look at you, your mouth open in pleasure as the sweetest whimpers escaped your lips.
Suguru's lips immediately left your forearm to find yours again, needing to swallow your symphony. "Did you like that?" he asked, hands traveling to your waist and lower, settling on your hips where you rolled them with abandon, grinding against his.
"Yeah" you moaned, nodding your head and desperately holding his face.
Suguru didn't need any more encouragement.
His mouth traveled to your neck this time, fangs sinking into your flesh in a blink, your whole body convulsing at the contact.
"Fuck–" you whimpered, as Suguru kept drinking from you, stealing your blood like you had stolen his unbeating heart.
His whole body was caging you in, his hands encouraging your hips to keep moving as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him further into you.
"Suguru" you moaned his name, and he was gone.
His hands moved from your hips to your middle, easily tearing the fabric of the clothes you wore, and you looked at him wide eyed with an amused smile, the red still dripping from your neck along the curve of your collarbone.
Suguru repositioned himself, bringing his body lower and forcing your legs to your chest, desperate to taste all of you.
In a quick movement, he was bunching his long hair into a bun, eyes hypnotized by the sight of you, naked, legs open in invitation.
"You're beautiful" he whispered, finally sinking his head between your thighs. He inhaled your scent, so sweet it was intoxicating, and licked a long stripe along your underwear that made your whole body jolt up.
He was sure your strength could match his, but you didn't complain when he pinned you down fully and gave your underwear the same treatment the rest of your clothes had gotten, the tearing sound of the fabric echoing in the room until you were fully exposed.
How long had it been?
Suguru felt something close to anxiety in his stomach, worried he wouldn't know how to satisfy you properly. It had been decades of no practice, after all.
But your hand closed around his, urging him with a single blink of your long eyelashes, bottom lip caught between your fangs like you needed him to.
Suddenly all worry was gone, and the only thing left in the world was you.
Suguru lowered himself, tongue licking a flat strip along your slit, and your other hand searched for his hair, pulling strands off the loose bun he had hastily put together.
He took his time exploring, learning what you liked, paying attention to each little reaction. He was so grateful you let him be here. So grateful you had stumbled into his life.
"Right here?" he asked, smiling against your folds when you let out a particularly loud moan.
"Mmh" you shook your head yes desperately, rocking your hips on his face, and Suguru thought himself the happiest man unalive. "Right there, please, Sugu–"
"You're so pretty when you beg" he smiled, dragging his tongue along the same spot that had you seeing stars.
Your moans kept building and building, echoing through the walls of his small apartment.
"Close already?" he asked, feeling just a little bit smug at how quickly he was making you unravel. Perhaps this wasn't a talent easily lost.
"It's been–ngh–a long time" you explained, hands gripping his shoulders, body folding inwards.
Suguru watched you fall apart on his tongue and it was the most beautiful thing he'd witnessed in all his years.
But not only that – it felt almost a little special, that it also had been a long time for you.He wasn't sure why he had assumed the contrary, but he hated to think life had been as lonely for you as it had for him.
Your nails dug so deep into his shoulders they drew blood now, but you didn't seem to notice in your daze. Gods, Suguru wished he could see you like this every day to the rest of eternity.
He finally stood up, removing each article of clothing slowly, as his smug grin followed each tremble of the aftershocks of your orgasm.
Beautiful.
Your eyes followed each new uncovered inch of him. His defined shoulders, his veiny forearms. How his bun came loose and fell along his broad back, dark strands brushing over the skin of his defined chest.
He was handsome. Perfectly chiselled and perfectly defined like he had been created to bring you to your knees.
And to your knees it brought you. You swiftly pushed yourself off the sofa to kneel in front of this magnificent, beautifully unnatural man, as your fingers hooked to the edge of his trousers, the last bit of clothing that hid him from you.
"You want to take me in your mouth?" he asked, thumb brushing your cheek as you nodded an eager yes. "You're so good to me" he hummed in amusement. Each word from him was a mixture of tender and lewd, his soft tone dripping with desire himself.
You finally freed him of his clothes, a little startled at the sheer size of him. You wanted him so bad, wanted to feel every inch of him–
"Open"
All thoughts disappeared in a puff of smoke, hearing him sound like that.
So you did.
"Good" he groaned, sinking into your mouth. He took his time, slowing down when you gagged around him, holding your head in complete control. A control you relented, considering you could easily bite his member off if you so wished.
But it felt… nice, to not be in control anymore.
A vampire life was calculated, precise, constantly on the look out.
It felt nice to give him all of you.
And the boy who was crying in your arms hours ago, was now rocking his hips against your face with abandon, whispering little praises that motivated you to take him deeper, and deeper, and deeper.
Suguru was close to losing his mind, each thread of reality snapping away at the way your throat constricted around him. He was so close to releasing himself in your mouth, but he didn't want that.
Not before he had felt your orgasm on his cock.
He pulled you away, panting, but didn't give you much time to question it. Suguru was on top of you in an instant, hands on either side of your head, his mouth back on yours.
His body pinned you down on the floor, your legs closed around his waist again – as if neither of you wanted to waste any more time, your hips slammed together in a unnatural pace, all of him sinking into you while your face scrunched at the stretch.
"Too much?" he asked, but you were smiling at him again.
"Not enough" you replied, pushing yourself up to bite his bottom lip, urging him back down towards you.
He was probably the one bleeding this time, but he didn't care, the taste mixed perfectly with your tongue. The urgency with which you kissed him urged his hips to start moving, slamming into yours harder and harder.
His hands came to lift your hips to give him better leverage, while yours held on to his shoulders so you could let him. You had met only hours earlier and now Suguru had you practically folded in half, with scratches all around his back to prove how much you loved it.
"You ngh feel so good" you panted, drawing blood from him again, some of the red dripping against your cheek to contrast your beautiful skin.
Maybe it was because his senses were so much sharper, but he didn't remember sex ever feeling like that. So intimate, so… surrendered. Two deadly monsters rejoicing in pleasure together.
It was the beginning of something he hoped would never fade.
An eternity he finally felt happy about.
"Why do you close your eyes?"
"What?" Suguru's head snapped back to you. There was still a faint trace of red where you had wiped it on your cheek; and he suspected on the tips of your fingers too, where they were interlaced with his. Suguru thought it better to not check, deciding to focus on your red eyes instead, and how they sparkled under the moonlight.
It was a night like any other. Hunting unaware passerby's, walking hand in hand back to your lair as if it was romantic.
You hated when he called it murder. So he didn't.
"When you feed" you answered, the breath coming out of your mouth and forming a haze all around. It was a cold winter, this one. The coldest one yet.
"Do I?" he mused, noticing he had never quite thought about it.
"You do" you replied. "And you avert your gaze when I feed too"
"Hm" his grip tightened around your hand, pulling you in closer ever so slightly. "I suppose it's because I don't enjoy it"
He didn't need to look to see the way your jaw had tightened. "You'd rather go hungry?" you scoffed.
"No, of course not" he replied. His thumb traced lazily over the top of your hand, soothing you – or himself. "Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it"
You stopped moving then, bringing him to a stop before you. You squinted your eyes, assessing him with a slight pout. Suguru's long fingers traveled to your jaw, gently wiping the red still there, letting the touch linger over your cold skin.
Suguru had seen you in every possible state in the months since you had been together – when you were naked and beautiful as an angel on top of him, crying from how good he made you feel; to dripping in blood and looking no more than a beast.
But he always found you beautiful.
Maybe that was a problem.
He didn't care.
"Do you enjoy it?" he asked, fighting against the lump in his throat that didn't want him to ask the question. He was sure nothing you said could make him see you different, but this was walking dangerously close.
To his surprise, you paused, tilting your head so your cheek would rest on his palm. Your eyes met his, but they weren't fully with him, something else clearly on your mind.
"I don't know" you answered, truthfully. "I never really thought about it"
That answer seemed to confuse him even more.
"You never thought about it?" he echoed, brushing his thumb over your skin.
You shook your head sideways in confirmation. "I suppose… it's just what I do" you murmured, and for a moment, you weren't there again.
Too lost in whatever memory your mind had locked you in.
Suguru didn't want to pry, but he also couldn't help wanting to know everything about you. "You never told me about your past" he said, more a suggestion than anything.
It was clearly the wrong move.
Your eyes suddenly snapped back to reality, not tender like they had just been – they locked on his with a hiss, and you stepped back from him like his touch burned.
"I'm sorry, I–"
"I don't want to talk about it" you interrupted, tone final and cold like a dagger right in his unbeating heart. Suguru put his hands up, not wanting to startle you further. If there was anyone who understood regrets, it would be him.
"I'm sorry" he said again, and you finally softened, letting your guard down little by little.
Your lips pursed sideways, annoyed with yourself at how easily Suguru got through your defenses. He half expected you to turn around and brave the night alone, maybe find another victim to take out the frustrations he brought out of you on.
But to his surprise, you moved closer.
A tiny step in his direction, too shy for your eyes to meet. But your forehead leaned in, resting on his shoulder, letting the weight of whatever was on your mind sink into him too.
Suguru tentatively brought his arms around your back, slowly, careful not to startle you. But you let him. Leaned further into him, accepted the embrace and even brought your own arms around him.
Your face was squished against his chest the tighter he held you, but you didn't dare move. Your breath had changed, he noticed as well, but he didn't dare move.
"I'm sorry" you said this time, voice small. Too small.
If Suguru didn't know you better, he'd think you were crying.
His hands slowly brushed your hair back, shushing you softly. Your hands gripped his shirt so tight they threatened to tear at the fabric, and with your strength, he knew you could easily do it.
Here, on this cold moonlit street, you finally let him in a little. Allowed him to see some of the pain you carried, despite not being able to voice it.
To Suguru, it was enough.
He would have held you like this forever, were it not for the police sirens bringing in the reminder of your brutal reality.
"We should go" you murmured, and your voice was cold as ice again.
"Maybe we should go somewhere else" you suggested one night.
You were sprawled over the long sofa, completely naked, your arms stretched over your head where they began to hurt. Holding still wasn't exactly your forte.
Suguru lowered his pencil with a long exhale, looking at you with tired eyes. "You're distracting me, sweetheart" he chided.
You pouted, snapping back into position as he started drawing again with a grateful sigh. Over the years, Suguru had drawn you a million times, in every position imaginable – clothed, naked, happy, sad. All of those now hung proudly on the walls, every inch covered with images of you and times you had spent together.
You thought it was a lovely thing when it first started.
Now you were starting to get bored of it.
The years had passed but you didn't exactly change, did you?
Still, seeing how he focused to get every detail of your complexion right, every little line and crevice and perceived imperfection – it made it worth it again.
Sometimes you wished you could see yourself through Suguru's eyes.
What would it be like to love yourself in that way?
"Suguru" you called. His eyes left the page again, squinting at you, but he seemed to notice something was wrong from the way you called his name alone.
He placed his pencil down fully this time. "What is it?" he asked.
"Do you ever wish things were different?"
The words left your lips before you could really think about them. You saw his desire to come to you straight away, but Suguru wasn't one for unnecessary bursts of passion. No, he always though about what he said. Especially because any wrong move might risk losing you.
"I used to" he admitted, answering your question as truthfully as he could. He also didn't care for going into the long years he had spent alone and miserable, something you surely could understand.
"What changed?" you asked, pushing yourself to a more comfortable position.
"Well" he huffed out, a little shy. "I met you"
You blinked at him, feeling your cheeks warm. "Was that a good thing?" you huffed out self-deprecatingly, but his resolve continued.
"It was the best thing" he confessed.
There hadn't been many love confessions between you two through out the years.
Suguru would have told you a million times over, but he realised soon enough he shouldn't. It's not that it wasn't there, on the contrary – it's that acknowledging it was there would make it too real. Too breakable. Too easy to lose.
Love wasn't meant for creatures like the two of you.
"You mean that?" you asked, and Suguru calmly put his paper down, motioning you for come towards him.
You did, waltzing in his direction with no shame at the lack of clothes – he had seen you like that enough times already. When you finally approached, he opened his thick thighs for you to sit on, a hand already to your waist.
You fit so perfectly on his lap, felt so safe next to him like this. Your leaned your weight on him, resting your head on his as his thumb traced absentminded circles on your lower back.
"Look" he said, picking up the paper again. "Look at how beautiful you are"
Your eyes traveled to the picture, eyeing the person you had seen on paper multiple times but could not relate to in any form anymore.
"It's still the same" you murmured, the words cutting your insides like daggers. This curse had robbed you of ever seeing your face again, robbed you of the natural wonders of old age, of maturity, a body that reflected your soul.
You should have been old now. Hell, you should have been dead.
"It is" Suguru agreed, but he was smiling. His eyes darted all over the page, taking in the perceived beauty of the woman you didn't recognise. Your hands. Your curves. Your mother's eyes. All made beautiful under his pencil, but foreign. Distant. "Isn't that a good thing?"
You tensed immediately on top of him. "How is it a good thing?" you spat. "It's unnatural"
He turned to you immediately, his hand dropping the page and cupping your cheek instead. "Where is this coming from?" he asked, gentle, sweet like honey.
"I don't relate to it at all" you protested. "She's beautiful, yes, but I'm… it's not me"
"What do you mean?" he asked, brows furrowing close. One of his hands tightened around your waist, hoping to keep you close, while the other brushed gently just under your temple.
"I'm not beautiful. I'm a predator, I'm cursed" you kept repeating, your words getting more and more sharp despite how kindly he held you.
"You're not cursed" he argued, bringing your head to the crook of his neck. Despite all the fight in you, you let him.
"I am" you cried.
Suguru felt the cold little drops that escaped your eyes fall on his skin, just under where the bite marks that originally made him this way were. He held you tight, hoping it would be enough.
"You're not cursed" he repeated, kindly. "You're everything"
Suguru couldn't bear seeing the person who had made his existence bearable speak so low of herself. You were the one who made him see this as more – as a gift, even.
But you didn't see it that way.
And the way your breathing suddenly stopped and you pulled away made that very clear.
"Don't pretend you don't think I'm a monster" you growled, before pushing yourself off him completely. "I see the way you look at me"
"The way I looked at you?" he echoed, confused. Surely he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, because you were.
You were fully standing now, towering over him in your nakedness. Suguru could never not find you beautiful, but right now you reminded him of the power you truly held.
"Righteous Suguru, always feeling bad for his prey" you mocked, starting to wander around the room just to do something. "And horrible me, enjoying having my stomach filled"
"I never said that–"
"You don't have to" you scoffed. "You can't even bear to look at me"
How could you think that of him?
Hearing those words come out of your lips was unbearable. It was wrong.
"I don't like killing, it's true" he tried to reason. "But–"
"You call it killing" you interrupted. "We're feeding"
"It doesn't change the fact these people were–"
"We would be dead too if we didn't" your voice was rising louder and louder, a debate of morals Suguru never wanted to have with you. "Would you prefer that?"
"No, of course not" Suguru said too quick, coming closer to you. But you just kept going, voice rising higher and higher.
"Should we just walk into the sun to protect your conscience?" you mocked again, but the words got stuck in your throat, scratchy. They were meant to hurt, meant to challenge – but there was something far too real about the words you were saying. Like this was the only way you managed to actually utter them out loud.
Suguru understood that too.
"Don't say that" he pleaded with you. Not angry, not confrontational. Just… scared.
His sudden change made you stop pacing.
"You don't even look at me" you rasped out to the floor, like he wasn't even meant to hear it.
"I'm looking at you now" he tried.
But you just shook your head.
"If you can't accept all of me, what good does it do?" you murmured.
"But it's not you" he tried to reason. "If we weren't like this, you wouldn't choose to kill anyone, I'm sure, and–"
"You don't know what my life was like" you spat.
And it's true. He didn't.
"Because you never told me" he exhaled, unable to hide how much that fact hurt him.
How much longer would he have to wait for you to let him in? Were decades not enough?
"You have no right to know" you repeated what you had said many times already.
"I don't understand" it was his turn to lose his composure a little, that wound growing larger and larger now that the two of you were acknowledging it. "I would never think less of you"
"You already think less of me" you hissed, squaring up to him again.
Beautiful, and naked, but not vulnerable. You were strong like this, the way you made the energy shift in a room showing him how much power you had, no doubt accumulated by the amount of years you had spent as a vampire already.
But that was also speculation. Suguru didn't even know that.
"I don't" he said too quick, putting his hands up. "And I'm sorry, just don't…"
He was the one who trailed off this time, struggling with the words.
"Don't what?" you asked, the words biting into the space.
"Don't leave" he finally said.
You seemed… surprised.
Surely after all this time, it wouldn't be surprising.
But what were years for a vampire, after all? For all he knew, you saw him as no more than a chapter in the long novel of your life. Worst than that, he almost expected that to be the case. And Suguru was terrified of it.
"Why?" you asked.
Suguru noticed it was him who was crying this time, but his lips still formed a shy smile. "Because I love you"
Saying it felt easy than he had anticipated, the words he was so scared to utter just rolling off his tongue, sounding just right. But your red eyes grew wider than they ever had, your feet stumbling back like the words cut instead of soothe.
"You–" you almost tried to repeat them, but you couldn't.
Suguru stood there, unmoving, now that he had finally said it. He wouldn't walk back on them, not when it was the truth.
"I love you" he repeated.
Again, you flinched like you had been hurt. But you stopped moving back, just standing across from him in the middle of the room, chest heaving up and down, up and down.
"No one has ever said that to me"
Your voice was too small for how angry you were just a moment ago.
Suguru's hands balled into fists as he tried to control the urge to run to you. Pull you into his arms, hold you close with a gentleness you should have known centuries ago.
You looked like a cornered animal in the middle of the room, completely frozen. Your eyes were crying again, though you made no mention to dry them. The corner of your lips threatened to move, but to a frown or a smile, he didn't know. You didn't seem to know either.
But your eyes stayed lock on his unwavering, decided ones.
Suguru would stand here, unmoving, for another decade if it meant you trusted him because of it.
"How do you know?" you finally said, bringing a hand to wipe under your eyes.
He tried a step towards you then. "Because just looking at you makes me forget all the bad things that ever happened to me" he said. When you didn't flinch, he stepped forwards again. "Because your laugh is my favourite sound in the world"
You almost moved closer, a barely there shift of your weight forwards. He continued.
"Because laying in our small coffin together doesn't feel claustrophobic, it feels…safe" he almost laughed at himself, the ridiculousness of this vampiric love confession.
Maybe love wasn't meant for creatures like you, but he had found it anyway. And that was a miracle in and of itself.
"You make me feel like this life isn't just worth living, but worth sharing" he completed, standing right in front of you now. Your bottom lip bobbed a little where you struggled to contain your tears, but when his hand reached forwards to cup your cheek, you didn't stop him.
"And I don't see you as a monster" he whispered, thumb dragging along your skin to catch the tears. "Seeing you enjoy killing, it just… makes me wonder why"
Your breathing hitched at that, but you still did not move.
The two of you stood so close, your bodies bathing in the moonlight. It was getting late, and it would be dawn soon – but neither of you seemed to be thinking about that right now.
"I think…" you started, struggling with the words. "I think I might love you too"
Suguru didn't think he even remembered what it was like to feel this happy.
His fox like eyes went wide, his mouth hung open – his turn at surprise. For so long he was so worried you'd get bored of him, that maybe you were too wild a creature to choose this domestic eternity.
Even in his wildest dreams, he never dared to imagine you felt it too.
"Can you say that again?"
You smiled, bringing your hands to cup his face too. "I love you"
Suguru slammed his lips on yours, pulling you in for a desperate kiss that you both completely melted into.
This was what pure bliss felt like.
You loved him.
You loved each other.
Even following all your sins and your ungodly existence, he had found it. He had actually fucking found it. The two of you had just gone against all odds and conquered fate.
"I love you" he kept saying, while his pointed teeth grazed your bottom lip, while your hands held tight to his face, and your mouth's refused to part.
"I love you too" you echoed back, crying, and crying, and crying.
Suguru couldn't stop smiling – and you couldn't stop your tears.
Hadn't he been so absorbed in this miracle then, he might have guessed what happened next.
You weren't there when he woke the next nightfall.
Suguru had grown used to your weight on top of his in the tight space, but he felt none of that when he started to blink his eyes awake. He called your name immediately, lifting the lid of the coffin with a loud creak, asking the void if you were there.
There was no response.
How could he have slept if you were not there? He would have surely woken up if you decided to leave before he did. Was he this lost in his own fantasy coming true? Had he slept too well?
The night was still young, you surely couldn't had gone far if you had just left when the sun went down.
Or… did you leave before that entirely?
Suguru's blood immediately ran cold. You wouldn't leave in the sunlight.
You wouldn't.
You knew what that could mean.
He paced the apartment with so much force his feet made the floor boards sink, but he was desperate. He had to find at least some hint, some clue of where you had gone, why you had gone.
Finally, he noticed something that wasn't meant to be there.
A different portrait sitting on the table, matching the walls full of you that decorated the space. But this one was of him – his long dark hair tied into a knot at the back of his head, his eyes looking far ahead, staring at something off the page.
He didn't remember posing for this, so it must have been made from memory.
Despite the years Suguru had spent teaching you to draw, you never seemed quite able to take it. You lacked the patience, you said. But this was a skillful drawing, no doubt something that would take long to master. Had you been working on it in secret for all this time?
What else did he not notice about you?
Suguru flipped the page around, finding the three words he had been so happy to hear the night before hastily scribbled on the back.
I love you
His response was immediate; Suguru's fist bunched up the drawing, and slammed it back on the table before he could damage it completely. It was a gift from you, he should love it. But where the hell were you?
If you loved him – why would you leave?
Because… you had, hadn't you? And all he had left of you was a portrait of himself and hundreds of images on the walls that now seemed to mock him.
He called your name once more, more pained this time. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe he was just scared… but how did he feel it so deep in his soul, this truth he had spent years trying to deny?
Suguru's red eyes scanned the empty space, hoping for a sign of you, desperately praying to whoever was out there to listen.
But there was only the void again.
All those fears and assumptions he always had proving themselves true.
The worst thing for a vampire was to be alone. But there was also safety in that, wasn't there?
To love and loose was so much worse.
So, so much worse.
His knees gave out before his brain could keep him standing, loudly crashing onto the floor as every memory of you started storming his brain. He had kissed you on this floor many times, had made love to you right there on the first night you met.
Now it wasn't the sweat of your bodies and the blood you shared staining the wood, but his own desperate tears, falling in a cascade of grief he didn't think himself capable of feeling.
In feeling so much pain, Suguru wished desperately for that void again. To just feel nothing. Nothing was so much better than this.
But nothing wasn't an option anymore – you had made his life full only to tip it over the edge, letting it all spill into a wet mess similar to the one he was making on the floor.
Your name escaped his lips when he lowered his forehead down to the ground, his hands balling into fists next to his dark hair, coming loose all around his handsome features. How dare you give him life back, only to take it away again.
He slammed his fist against the floorboards, so loud the pictures of you rattled on the wall. There were so many – portraits that span years but the subject remained the same, remained beautiful, perfect.
How could you hate that? Suguru loved having you immortalised not just on paper, but in life itself.
It was a gift.
You were the one that made him see it that way.
Why had you changed your mind?
Why couldn't things just stay the same?
Forever.
You had made forever sound so nice.
Another fist hit the wood, his knuckles beginning to split. His skin would heal, but the depth of his mistake never would.
What a fool he was for confessing his love to you. Suguru knew what that would mean, how much it would frighten you – he knew, and still did it anyway.
Idiot.
Suguru couldn't bring himself to throw the next punch, choosing to curl inwards instead, into himself, away from everything else.
He shouldn't have said anything.
What a stupid fucking mistake.
Maybe all of this.
All of it was a mistake.
He couldn't outrun fate, after all.
But pretending sure felt nice.
Suguru finally pushed himself up, making a point to look at every image that decorated the walls. He remembered each one, what the conversation had been about, what you had been doing earlier in the night before he decided the moment was too precious not to capture.
Suguru found himself looking for a specific one, though – that first one. The one that had gained him your trust, your love.
He could have sworn it was still inside his sketchbook.
He turned page after page after page, growing increasingly annoyed that he couldn't find it. Despair turning into anger, looking for any form of release it could find. Until he finally noticed a tear at the corner of the page, right where it should have been.
Had you taken it with you?
His breathing stopped, swollen eyes focusing on the careful way the page had been torn from his book, his finger grazing along it with the devotion he would caress your skin.
In the many years you spent together, you had never once mentioned the image – not after that first night.
Did it mean as much to you as it meant for him?
Suguru's hands closed around the notebook, shutting it tight and bringing it to his chest. It was at least one more proof that you didn't lie when expressing your love for him. That maybe leaving was as hard for you as it was for him.
And among the pain in his chest where his heart should have been beating, Suguru understood.
Being alone was far less scary than love.
What he saw as an act of cowardice, maybe you saw as an act of kindness. Choosing you'd rather be alone than to face the end of this love you didn't think you deserved, his hatred you saw as inevitable.
So you left. Your version of compassion, learnt from a world who had never showed you that in the first place.
You wanted him to hate you, didn't you?
He couldn't do that.
This would be his last act of rebellion against this evil world that had made you this way.
This cursed fate he didn't seem able to escape.
Suguru would love you still.
And he would find you.
Time was a blessing as well as a curse. Suguru had an infinite amount – but each strike of the clock dragged longer than it had before, every coming dawn seemed to linger, every passing season reminding him of what he had lost.
The winter you left eventually turned into summer, longer days meaning shorter nights – less opportunities to look for you.
But Suguru didn't give up hope.
He wandered the streets for as long as he could, every single night, just hoping for your scent. He visited places you had gone to together, wishing he'd find you on the park bench near the churchyard, or the cemetery behind it, among the bones of people who had found peace in death, unlike the two of you.
Suguru even visited your known hunting spots, the seedy alleyways just out of town that tended to harbor criminals and people who wouldn't be missed by society. It was a suggestion Suguru had made, and that you had agreed to. It made what you had to do more bearable, but he still hated every second.
When he finally reached the location, you weren't there. Suguru had hoped to at least hear rumours and whispers about recent kills around this spot, some urban legend beginning to grow that he could tie back to you; but still… nothing.
Had you gone back to preying on whoever you could put your hands on? Was his odd moral compass another thing you resented him for?
"You seem lost, boy" a voice came from right behind him, distinctively not yours. The sharp metal sound of a blade came along with it, as Suguru heard the footsteps approaching – slowly, deliberately.
This man clearly had the wrong idea of who prey and predator were.
Suguru took a sharp inhale in, hating this man for interrupting his search. He turned around, slowly, the reds of his eyes making the man come to a halt a mere feet away.
"You sick or something?" the man scoffed, clearly intrigued by his appearance.
Suguru just stood there. His hands had balled into fists as he inhaled he man's scent. He was hungry, so hungry, and hated the way he looked down at him. Had you been here, you would undoubtedly already have a twisted smile on your face, excited to gorge on the stranger's blood.
"That's a nice coat you've got there" the man mocked, making the knife visible now. It glistened where it caught the light, making sure Suguru could see it too.
A pathetic threat, Suguru rolled his eyes internally.
This man sure had chosen the wrong time for this, because Suguru's blood was already running cold with anger. And he caught himself thinking, just for a moment… that he would enjoy this kill.
No.
This was a line he didn't want to cross.
"You deaf or just stupid?" the man laughed this time, closing the distance.
Another breath in, slowly while the man approached. It didn't matter how hungry, angry, lost Suguru was – he couldn't bring himself to enjoy feeding, would never forgive himself if he lost this last shred of humanity he still was proud of. He couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't–
But when the man brought the knife to his throat, it was too easy.
Suguru turned around in the blink of an eye, taking his fangs to the tall man's neck as his body effortlessly pinned him down, bringing the two down to the wet pavement in the process.
Blood, tears and sweat spilled everywhere, while Suguru enjoyed the way the much bigger man thrashed beneath him, helpless.
Is this what you wanted all along? For him to be just like you?
It wasn't merciful, and it wasn't clean. This was rage personified, but in the moment he swallowed the sweet taste, Suguru didn't care.
It wouldn't be the last of his kills like this.
In fact, there would be many, many more throughout the years.
He hated himself for it every single time after, sometimes crying next to the limp body he had just ravished, sometimes throwing it all up again. Suguru felt shame at his lack of control, at this blinding rage that made him the monster he tried so hard not to be.
It took him years before he finally decided he couldn't do it anymore.
You had spoken about wanting to leave this pathetic town before, and maybe it was time for him to accept you probably had.
That after a decade of this, you wouldn't be showing up at your shared home anymore.
The place had been cold since you left, but in every sense it still remained the same. The furniture hadn't been moved, the curtains were still the same though faded and full of spider webs now. And, most importantly – your face still adorned the walls.
Suguru knew you probably had left town entirely, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave this.
The home you two had made, in spite of everything.
Did you still remember? Or did you try not to?
Did you hold on to that first drawing and cry, like he did? Reminisce about the good times and the worst times, miss his touch and the way you held each other in that tight coffin?
In the years that passed, Suguru even tried to hate you. Tried to give you what you wanted.
But he just couldn't.
What he hated was how much he regretted confessing his love, the single greatest mistake of his existence. Was hearing those three words leave your lips worth the years of solitude that would come after?
Maybe.
His long fingers ghosted over your face in one of the drawings – one in which you had a rare, easy smile. Had you found someone else who would paint you like he did?
Suguru knew he was only tormenting himself at this point; it was no use lingering on the thought. If he knew you as well as he thought he did, then he was sure you hadn't just found another person to give your heart to.
He believed what you said that night.
You didn't leave because you didn't love him, you left because you loved him too much. Suguru would have to find some comfort in that.
Seeing the world change was a miracle, one thing that did console him. The streets changed just as often as the seasons did now, every day bringing new inventions and curious new ideas Suguru enjoyed learning about.
He found himself sitting by the park more and more often now, drawing the outline of new buildings that began construction far ahead. The future seemed to look brighter than anyone could have hoped for.
But despite the obvious changes to the outside, his inside world remained the same. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to leave.
He had found some peace in the fact that you could find him there, if you wanted. And it didn't matter if it took another decade, or half a century or more – Suguru would stay right here, waiting.
His fingers dragged the chalk over the page, marking the coming of a new age.
When you returned, he'd show it to you. He documented every little thing about this town just so he could share it, and he was hopeful the time would come.
Can you believe they were building shops in the alleys you used to hunt? And how the church had been rebuilt, much larger, after the fire five years prior?
Life changed all around – beautifully so, tragically so too.
But the seasons always came. Winter, then summer again, and just like he could trust in that, he trusted what would come after too. It was a better position to be in than the desperate animal he had become for a few years.
But he would have never wanted you to see him like that, and so, he changed. He–
Suguru's hands dropped the drawing suddenly, his spine going rigid in the blink of an eye.
That smell. He knew that smell.
He inhaled deeply again, shutting his eyes tight, focusing on it.
It couldn't be.
The scent he had almost feared he had forgotten.
Your name escaped his lips in a sound much smaller than he expected, which turned into a desperate cry as Suguru began to turn around, searching for any glimpse of you.
The scent was present, but it was still far away – he had to follow it. Fast.
The picture he was working so precisely on got scrunched up when he rushed to pick up his belongings, shoving it all in his pockets as he began to ran.
Probably wasn't the best to bring attention to himself like this, but Suguru couldn't stop.
He kept moving, letting his senses guide him as he rushed past the night owls and confused strangers. Turning a corner here, going through someone's garden there – he feared he lost it completely when the smell almost faded at the edge of the city, but he turned around again.
Where could you possibly be going? Were you looking for your regular hunting grounds of almost a century past?
Things were different now, didn't you know?
But no, it wasn't that – the smell faded again, and so he followed it back to the main road, finding it again.
It grew stronger and stronger with each step, until it led to the last place he expected.
Home.
It was undeniably strong, so much so his nerve endings were staring to prickle, like they only did when another one of him was around. Suguru rushed up the steps, jumping two at a time, throwing the door open, and–
There you were.
Was it a dream? Or had death finally come for him?
You looked exactly the same. Standing there, staring at the wall of your face with a much smaller paper held tight to your chest.
Suguru remained completely frozen, struggling to catch his breath. When you turned to him, he noticed you had tears in your eyes.
"You kept them?" you whispered, your beautiful bottom lip trembling slightly. The first words he had heard from you in years, and they were a question you obviously should have expected the answer to.
Suguru finally took a step inside, closing the door behind him. He couldn't bring himself to meet you there, even though everything in him wanted to pick you up and wipe your tears and kiss you everywhere.
"Of course I did" was all he managed to reply, but it only made you cry harder.
You brought a hand to dry your face, and Suguru desperately wished you'd just let him. But he was so terrified of making the wrong move again.
"I'm sorry–"
That he couldn't bear to hear.
Against better judgment, Suguru rushed forwards, towards you, needing to touch you to confirm you were real. His body found yours with too much strength, but you completely gave in to it, closing your arms around his shoulders when he closed his over your waist.
You were here again.
Your feet left the floor when he raised you to his level, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you did the same, both letting the tears flow unabashedly. Your legs came to lock around his waist, pulling him into you completely, the one thing Suguru wanted most in the whole world.
"You came back" he cried into your hair.
"I needed to see it again" you replied, his clothes bunching up in your fists.
"See what?" Suguru asked, pulling back just a little. His nose brushed against yours, so close he could just kiss you, but he wanted to hear your voice even more than that.
"Home" you replied, looking him right in his red eyes. "I didn't think you'd be here"
His eyes held you tighter, his forehead pressing against your. "Where else would I go?"
"Anywhere that didn't remind you of me" you tried a small self deprecating laugh, but Suguru shook his head, forehead rolling against yours.
"I've been waiting for you this whole time"
You cried, cupping his face with both hands. "Don't lie to me, Suguru Geto" you pouted.
"I have never lied to you" he replied.
It was the truth.
It was you that closed the distance this time, urging his face forwards as you leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't desperate like he had imagined, no, it was gentle. Feather light, almost. Far too small for something that was so huge, but also exactly what you needed.
It lasted for the blink of an eye and for an eternity – just a moment in time where everything was just right again.
"I'm sorry I left" you whispered, breaking the kiss and placing your forehead back on his. "I'm sorry I got scared"
"I know" he kissed your cheek, smoothing your hair back. "It's ok"
"It's not" you lowered yourself down, sinking into his chest this time.
"Shh" he kept smoothing down your hair, holding you tight against him, right where his heart should be beating. Getting used to your scent again was salvation for him, but there was also something different about you, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, tilting your chin towards him. You nodded your head up and down, some sort of shame deep within your eyes. "We still have some time before dawn, if you want to–"
"I don't hunt anymore" you replied, looking down. "Not people"
Suguru's eyebrows knit together, pulling you up to look at him again. "What do you mean?"
To his surprise, you cried. And just kept crying. Harder than he had ever seen.
"I guess I realised–" you tried to say between hiccups. "Maybe someone loves them too"
Suguru's mouth hung open, in complete surprise. You coming back was something he had hoped for and convinced himself to believe in, but this? This he could have never fathomed.
"You–" he didn't even know what to say, choosing to crouch down in front of you instead and pull you down with him, giving your legs some rest so maybe they'd stop shaking.
"I'm sorry, Suguru" you cried, throwing yourself at him. "I'll tell you why, I'll tell you what happened, I'll tell you everything, just please– please, forgive me"
Suguru stood sentinel while you sobbed, holding you tight. Didn't you know? He had never blamed you for it.
He understood your pain far too well for it.
"I would be glad to listen" he said into your hair, arms closed around your back. "If you want to tell me"
You nodded your head, clawing at his back like he was your salvation.
For a very long time, Suguru could only speculate on what had happened to make you the way you were. But right now, he found his curiosity was the last thing on his mind.
"Here" he said, pulling an arm from you to bring it to his fangs. The blood started dripping from it, as you watched from below while he did for you what you had done for him that first night you met. "You should eat first"
You smiled at his generosity, but brought yourself up again to better match his height. You cupped his cheeks again, leaning in for another kiss, realising there was still something much more important you wanted to say and hear.
"I love you, Suguru"
"I love you too" he kissed you back.
In time, Suguru would show you his sketches depicting how this town had changed, his little documentations of every day life he had hoped to share with you. He would listen to every single thing you wanted to tell him, he'd hold you close when it was too hard to say, and he'd shush you kindly whenever you tried to force words you weren't ready for just yet.
There was so much still to be said, and time was, of course, a luxury you both had.
But right now… in this moonlit night in the apartment you had made a home of so many years ago, the silence was just enough.
A/N oof this one really took a long time to write. I started writing this when I was in a very bad place, and found it very therapeutic to just blurt it out on the page – it unfortunately also meant it was extremely hard to go back to it when I started feeling better (which I am!). there's so much of me in both these characters so it makes me a little nervous to post but maybe you relate as well, and if that's the case I'd like you to know you're not alone! hope you all have the most wonderful day or night and thank you for reading my story <3
current obsession : watching inside nature's giants on YouTube
current reading : collier's junior classics book 2 once upon a time (childhood reading book)
currently working on : alot of jjk x reader fics, yuki, choso, sukuna x reader (separately) and not in that order.
last Internet search : the term chemical engineering
tagging <3 : @yummidumplingss @mimimochis @cttelina @tokkushin @sakunai @gyalcapone @megumisrighttoe @httpskrys @https-iso + anyone who'd like to take part <3
currently reading – the seoul letter shop by baek seungyeon
currently working on – the suguru angst oneshot that ive been working on for months ugh ive redone the ending so many times but i might finally be happy with this one
You and Satoru broke up for a reason, you keep reminding yourself.
But even months later and, ehm… other people later, you find yourself staring at his contact picture, typing and deleting the same message over and over again.
How are you even supposed to break no contact? Is there a good way of reaching out to your ex without coming across as desperate or delusional?
"I miss you" your fingers type.
Delete.
No way you're starting with that – even if it is the truth.
"Hope you're well" …you groan before you even finish typing that one, the little sound of each letter disappearing managing to piss you off even more.
You had heard it enough times already. A monotone soundtrack to every little memory of Satoru, both good and bad, that jumped to your mind without warning the longer you stared at his handsome picture.
It felt ridiculous to miss him that much. You had tried so hard to move on – maybe just to prove a point too. Because otherwise you’d have to admit what he knew all along.
You shouldn’t embarrass yourself like that, you decide with a long sigh, ready to lock the device.
But suddenly – three little dots appear on the screen.
satoru: just send it already i can't take it anymore
Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and it takes everything in you to not throw the phone across the room and hide from sheer embarrassment.
Then it pings again.
satoru: hellooo?
Fuck.
Was it too late to change your number and move to a different country?
You sigh, finally typing a message you actually send.
y/n: how long have you been watching the screen
Three dots.
satoru: like 10 minutes
You let out a silent scream, heart hammering in your chest.
This is the worst possible scenario – time to deflect.
y/n: why the hell did you have my chat open anyway
Three dots again…
satoru: princess I've been waiting for this moment for months
Your cheeks heat up with something other than embarrassment this time.
y/n: you're an idiot
You know he’d practically be able to hear your pout through that text. But then–
satoru: that guy you were dating finally fuck up?
You let out a small chuckle at his honesty. And yeah, fuck up was putting it lightly, but you didn't exactly want to get into how every man since Satoru had been a complete disappointment.
You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek to try and force back the smile that tried to form on your lips.
y/n: guess you could say that
Satoru was typing again, three dots appearing and disappearing. Maybe he was the one deleting the messages on the other side now.
You could almost picture him – that wide cheese eating grin, celebrating his prophecy coming true. You hated how right he was about the fact you wouldn't find anyone better than him.
The overly confident bastard he was.
But the message you received wasn't smug at all. If anything, it made your heart ache with that familiar comfort no one but him seemed able to give you.
satoru: did he hurt you?
You felt a tightness in your throat as you typed out a yes. It's not like you were ever in love with the guy – you hadn't really been in love with anyone since, well… since the man you were texting right now.
White haired, blue eyed, handsome Satoru Gojo, shining so bright he overshadowed everyone in his wake, including you.
But how could anyone else even compare?
satoru: are you ok?
You bite your lower lip, reading and rereading his text. Yes that guy proved to be an asshole, but what was really making your chest hurt wasn't that short lived situationship – it was how much you missed Satoru.
Missed his stupid jokes. Missed the way he'd easily pick you up and place kisses all over your face. Missed cuddling on cold nights, laughing at the dumb movie he chose, baking cookies for lunch when his adorable pout convinced you it was healthy.
What was the use of lying, anyway?
y/n: i just really miss you
There. You finally admitted the truth you had been trying to conceal for months now.
And his response came so fast you wondered how his thumbs could type so quickly.
satoru: ill be there in 10
You laugh – Satoru easily lives a half an hour away, but you fully believe him.
How did you ever think you’d get over Satoru Gojo?
(important) DO NOT MESSAGE YOUR EX – unless he is satoru gojo, of course
꒰melody꒱ asking boyfriend!choso to fuck your throat
mdni ꩜ smut, intimacy & aftercare. art by @/kanmi013
"I don't want to hurt you"
"You're not going to hurt me, Cho"
It was a little ridiculous to be debating right now, considering the position you were in – on your back, head slightly hanging off the edge of the mattress, and right in between your boyfriends thick thighs.
It's not like it was the first time you suggested something that made him red as a tomato. Actually, you would have thought he was used to it by now.
From above you, Choso's adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly, somewhere between hypnotised and worried. "What if you can't breathe?" he reasoned.
"I'll tap your leg if it's too much" you reassured.
Normally he was always happy to try whatever you suggested, but you could see why he was a little apprehensive about this one.
You could just about make out his handsome face in this awkward position, but once he started moving, you would be completely trapped under him... a thought you actually quite enjoyed.
Choso considered it for a moment longer, a hand lazily stroking his member just inches away from you – already suspiciously hard despite his hesitation.
It was like he was teasing you, having it so close but still so far. Was it so wrong to just want the love of your life to fuck your throat?!
"Ok…" Choso finally sighed reluctantly, but the way his cock twitched in his grasp was fooling no one. "Can you, um, open your mouth?"
You did.
"Fuck" Choso gasped immediately, throwing his head back in ecstasy despite not having even entered you yet.
You couldn't help a devilish smile, admiring how he bit his bottom lip above you with barely controlled lust. "Do you need a moment, Cho?" you teased.
"No! No" he quickly said, looking down at you again with a long exhale. "You look really good like that"
His dark eyes were locked on yours now, mesmerised. Despite how hard you wanted to tease him for getting so excited just looking at you, there was no denying he did the same to you.
Embarrassing, really. The way your thighs squeezed together at the sight of him alone.
"You look good too" you replied softly, feeling your own face grow hot.
"Yeah?" he smiled, beginning to stroke himself again. "You want me to fuck your throat?"
Fuck.
"Y–yeah" you swallowed hard, heart beginning to beat a little too fast inside your chest. "Please"
"Then be a good girl and open your mouth"
He didn't even have to ask you twice.
You willingly parted your lips, as drunk on him as he was drunk on you.
The minute Choso started to sink into your mouth your eyes began to water, hands coming to grab his thighs just to have something to hold on to.
It wasn't the most comfortable position to be taking him in, sure, but you were happy he agreed to try it. Even more so hearing the lewd sounds that were coming from his throat, like the sweetest melody.
"Just like that, baby" he groaned, sinking a little deeper. You so wished you could see what he looked like right now. "Doing so good for me"
You really wanted to please him, but you couldn't help the way you constricted around him as he reached deeper, exploring further than he ever had. "Still ok?" Choso asked, waiting for your struggled nod before continuing.
And then he really started moving. Shallow thrusts at first, in and out, in and out. Going deeper with each one, giving you time to adjust to his size.
"Taking me so fucking well" he panted. "Fuck, I can see it" his thumb slowly stroked the bulge on your neck, a tender caress despite how mean he moved now.
Deeper and deeper.
The heat between your legs was starting to get too much to ignore – your boyfriend driving you insane with nothing but his cock in your throat and his little groans and whimpers, as he fucked your face like he would your pussy.
Maybe you'd suggest filming it next time, just so you could admire his expressions.
Though you also enjoyed your imagination.
And as if just to empty all thoughts from your head, Choso pushed all the way in – you choked around him, struggling to accommodate him so deep, but when your boyfriend tried to move back and give you respite, your hands immediately brought his hips back towards you.
"Fuck– you feel so good" he gasped in surprise, mesmerised by how hard you tried for him, by how much you wanted this. "Hold it there for me baby, can you do that?"
You did – growing more and more used to the odd pressure, your face a mix of tears and spit, throat stretched beyond capacity.
"Ahhhh, such a good girl" he exhaled. "Can I–can I cum in your throat?" he asked a little shyly.
You tried your best to nod yes, despite not being able to move much.
Choso understood, moving his hips back again to shove himself back in, one more time, two times, and on the third – he sunk so deep you had no choice but swallow all he was giving you.
You loved it. Both the salty taste and how he moaned above you.
As soon as he was done, Choso removed himself, kneeling down next to your head. "Are you ok?" he asked hurriedly, wiping your face for you, using the towel he had left by the bed for this exact reason.
"Yes" you said, voice a little hoarse. "Did you enjoy it?" you smiled, while Choso brought two hands to your shoulders to help you sit up, treating you like you were precious.
"Yeah" he admitted with a blush on his cheeks. He passed you a glass of water, another precaution he had taken. "I…really did"
You took a slow sip, while his hands slowly rubbed your shoulders and neck, easing the tension you were just starting to feel from the odd position you had been in.
"Good" you leaned forward to kiss his nose then, just above his mark. "Sounded like you did" you teased, enjoying his little grimace.
He took the glass from you as you put your hands on the mattress to push yourself up, but before you could – Choso stopped you with two firm hands on your hips.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, positioning himself between your legs. "It's my turn to hear the sounds you make"
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You're married to Satoru Gojo - an arrangement since your childhood, one you're so excited for. You soon find out - he wants nothing to do with you. Any one is preferable, from the waitress at your engagement party, to his secretary. Torn apart by insecurities and devastated by the fact that you can't make this one sided affection work, you decide to find something to keep you going until Gojo finds a way to end the marriage. That's what lands you right in the notorious boxing ring in town - led by Ryomen Sukuna, who finally sees you.
pairings - Nepo baby! Gojo x Reader x Boxer! Sukuna
warnings!!! - oral ( f receiving) cum eating, fingering, rough sex, semi-public sex, lots of emotions, lots of filth - obsessed Satoru and Sukuna, both men wanna breed reader, throuple vibes, messy ass fucking dynamics, angst, feelings, creampies, spitting, fingering, crying, multi rounds, choking, rough sex and light bondage (think I got most of it???) enjoyyy - 10.2k
a/n - I was so glad to get back to this, idk how many ppl will see since I'm marked mature </3 butttt enjoy if you get to!
<<<part six - masterlist - playlist
part seven
You
Watching Sukuna fight was intense.
It was insane as you sit there in the audience, watching him punch, using every move you’ve learned and many you haven’t even scratched the surface of yet – with the cheers, the crowd going insane for him. You are towards the front where he wanted you, just a little secluded as you watch him move, surprisingly light on his feet for just how huge Sukuna was.
He floated across that ring, beating the day lights out of the poor damn fool that thought they could compete. Sukuna mostly just trained, but he decided to join one. You weren't sure if it was to just beat someone up for his own frustration, or if Sukuna genuinely missed the ring.
Maybe a bit of both.
His eyes catch you even across the entire crowded arena, his lips quirking up. He swipes at his chin with the glove, letting someone dab his bloody eye for just a minute, covered in sweat. His black tattoos are just glimmering with sweat, shining under the light, you can feel your heart racing.
Part, worry.
Part, being utterly turned on in the worst possible way. You get a text from Satoru then, peeking at it.
Satoru - coming home tonight?
You - yes I will be. In a couple hours. You?
Satoru - yeah same. Is he coming to dinner again?
You giggle a bit.
What life were you living? It almost seemed absurd, like some sort of a fever dream. The way both men ate dinner together with you last night. Somehow talking and not killing each other despite how tense they both were near each other.
As if you were the unspoken agreement.
You know Sukuna wants you all to himself, but you also learn that Satoru wants more. He wants more time, he spends time trying to get to know you. It's intense, it's terrifying, everything about opening up to Satoru when you don't know if he is sincere.
Yet you couldn't help but smile when you text him back, cursing him internally then.
Fucking Satoru.
You - No, he has a lot to do. Want me to give him kisses for you?
Satoru - yes please, give him all my love <3
Life has gotten extremely interesting since the first time Sukuna fingered you on the counter, the first time Satoru sent the girls away – girls you have now grown in just a short time not to hate quite so much. Of course what they did was hurtful, and you resent them – but for Jennifer you already made a call and got her a position.
Sukuna thought it was pretty insane, but he supported it, Satoru didn’t even know just yet.
You - I’ll give him all your love.
Satoru - you’re a fucking brat, he’s right.
Maybe you are.
Sukuna slams his fist with a sickening crunch, drawing your attention right back to him, you watch as the man lays there, and the ref counts – one, two, three.
Knock out.
Sukuna’s hand is raised as you cheer with everyone, the sounds thunderous with just how famous Sukuna really was, you stand right with them, clapping and feeling his gaze locked on you, all sweaty, breathless, his chest rising and falling. You can’t help but feel concerned with just how beat up he is, but also…
Fuck he’s sexy.
Are you really some slutty little brat, after being a good girl for so very long?
It’s not long after you’re walking in that locker room – and it’s just Sukuna.
“You came, hmm?” Sukuna tilts his head, studying you in the locker room, bulb swinging overhead casting shadows as he leans back against the lockers on that bench, his thighs spread wide. “Did you like the show?”
You don’t answer him, still trembling as you see how many cuts and bruises he has, half his jaw is swelling, making your tummy clench with worry. You cross the small space, standing between those thighs, letting his hands – huge and calloused, knuckles all bloody – come up to frame your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones almost gently.
That’s the thing about Sukuna – even when he’s brutal, even when he’s fucking you so hard it hurts – he’s gentle with you in ways you can’t express. With his gaze and his words, how he’ll talk you through everything, how he cradles your face even now like it’s so precious.
The duality of him versus Satoru is never ending.
Satoru was hardly rough with you the one time you were alone together, but there was an underlying desperation, yet he gripped your face differently, like he thought you’d slip away. Sukuna is just a little more gentle, like he gives you that option to pull back, knowing you don’t want to.
“Sukuna…” You murmur softly, sighing now, gripping his wrists. He smells intoxicating like this, that sweat fucking ruining your senses. It’s only been a couple days and you already crave him.
“Look at you,” he murmurs softly, his ruby eyes dark as they drink you in “All cute and worried for me, hmm?”
“Of course I am…” Sukuna leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s messy, needy as he tugs you close, muscled thighs on either side of you. “Mnh…
“Those sounds you make, fuck,” you can feel him shaking himself, taste the copppery hint of blood mixing with his saliva right as he licks into your open mouth, claiming it for his own.
“I should clean you up…” You whisper now, pulling back as his manager comes in, pausing at the sight of you two.
That’s when it hits you, how dangerous it is to be public with Sukuna – no, not everyone knew you, but enough people did. Luckily they just smile and hand you some antiseptic and a clean rag.
“Trust you’ll take care of him?”
“Absolutely,” you smile as they shut the door behind them, walking over to the counter for a moment with shaky hands, feeling him study you. “You did so good against him, Kuna. It was insane.”
“Yeah, it wasn't that hard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and peeking back at him, smiling just a bit. “Worried about me, really? Six foot five, two hundred plus pounds of me?”
“Yes I worry…” You frown now, dabbing the antiseptic on the gauze and walking back over, pressing it to an open cut, making him suck in a breath. “Look, and you’re a big baby.”
“Tch, me a baby,” you giggle and he glares at you. “Such a brat.”
“You say that, but I think you are,” he rolls his eyes as you keep dabbing at the cuts, suddenly feeling it again.
Split into pieces.
It’s so easy here in his arms, it’s so perfect – isn’t that what love should be? Easy, effortless, perfect like you just fit – but then you feel horrible, knowing those feelings for Satoru exist. That they haven’t died when they should have, and no matter how much Sukuna lets you feel them, you hate them.
LIke a sickness for that man with the blue eyes who gets on his knees and begs to just taste you, the desperation in which he begged you just to say his name, it rings in your head as you think of last night. He had stood by your door for far, far too long, as if he may come lay down, but he held himself back, he stopped himself.
Did you want him to lay with you?
Maybe you did – and maybe you feel worse about it, as you clean your… boyfriend. Sukuna has become your boyfriend, even though you’re married, and even that seems like a word not good enough. Was there anything better than being like this with him, aside from when you had both of them on you?
“How was last night?” He asks, husky now.
“He just slept in his room,” your answer is quiet, cleaning up his cheek carefully, tilting your head just a bit and studying the red streak on his face. “He wasn’t happy about your video, no, but he didn’t say much.”
“Surprised he didn’t beg to lick my cum out,” you scoff and roll your eyes at him. “Didn’t fuck him last night?”
“Not after we were… no, Sukuna, haven’t talked much to him today,” he hums, his hands slipping up your waist, lips pressing along your collarbone. Your hand entangles in his messy pink hair – damp with sweat, sighing a bit. “Would it make you upset if I had?”
“Him getting any part of you is insane considering he doesn’t deserve shit, but no. I would never be upset at you,” he grips you tighter. “Wanna fuck thoughts of him away though? Wanna pump you full of me instead? Yeah.”
“Kuna… when you talk that way…”
“You’re wet, hmm? Pretty lil girl, so slutty for me,” you tremble when he stands, hauling you up in his arms like it’s nothing, kissing you again, over and over. “Did that fight have you wet?”
“Yes,” you whisper, letting him set you down, he moans, spinning you around so that your hands brace against the cold metal of the lockers. He shoves your skirt up, spreading your thighs to find you over your panties, damp already from need. “Kuna!”
“Miss me already, brat?” He whispers, yanking them aside as he lifts you up, the heels you’re in making it just enough for him to bend down and plunge two fingers in your messy cunt. You can feel the heat of his body pressing against your back, feel him taking you over.
“Yes, Kuna,” he moans, teeth sinking into your neck, fingers buried knuckles deep, your plump pussy lips gripping him so good he moans out even louder. “W- want you.”
“Want me to fuck you right here?” he whispers those words, breath ghosting against your ear, tickling it, making you tremble. “Gonna fuck so many kids into you, would you want that, brat? All my babies inside, not his?”
“You’re so insane,” you mumble, he laughs then, gripping your chin as he moves his fingers up and down, knowing your every spot. “Kuna!”
“Would breed you over and over, fuck… imagine,” you’re lost in his filthy images of that – of you round with Sukuna’s baby, of your tits full as he mumbles it and squishes them. “Hah, how cute you’d look.”
You swallow nervously, “Is this y-your kink?”
Sukuna chuckles, a dark sound that makes your eyes roll back, the way he moves against you makes you feel so small compared to him. “Kink? Nah, never before you. None of this shit before you, losing my goddamn mind.”
“I… y-you…”
You can’t talk, not when he’s pushing you further, when the raw scent of him is filling your nostrils, the coolness of those old, beat up lockers rushing against your skin as his rough fingers fill you. His lips dragging, leaving little marks everywhere they roam, teeth sinking into your skin, sharp and biting.
“Want you to smell like me when you go back to him, want you covered in my hand prints, dripping with my cum,” Sukuna yanks those fingers out before you can hit your peak, pulling your hair back and groaning, cock heavy against your ass as he presses it through the thin gym shorts. “Not a kink, just what you fucking do, god what you do.”
You look back with drugged eyes now, hand reaching back to feel him, he hisses at the contact, pressing you further against the lockers, turning you right around and lifting you, hands gripping your ass. “Kuna I…”
“You’re still talking? I need you cumming,” his cock is heavy and leaking when he tugs it out, pressing right against your messy slit, stretched open just for him. “Have to fucking have you, now.”
“Need to tell you…” He chuckles at you, kissing you again, fat cockhead and that piercing just pressing on your slick hole.
“Tell me what, brat?” His eyes are dark when he keeps positioned at your entrance, breaths coming quick. “Say it, use your words.”
You swallow nervously.
You’re gonna say it.
“I love you,” he pauses then, faltering at your words, you curse and shut your eyes, wondering if you’ve ruined the moment. “S-sorry it’s sudden and… but I feel so much and… it’s not fair to-”
“Shut up.”
You glare and he chuckles. “What!?”
“Shut up, brat,” he murmurs, softer then, cupping your face as he presses your back against those lockers.
“You… shut up, you… jerk!”
“I love you,” he answers now, with a laugh, shaking his head. “God I fucking love you, even if you’re not all mine, even if I have to share you with a dumb fucking twink that I hate.”
With one brutal, mean fucking thrust, Sukuna is buried fully inside you, so rough and the stretch so insane it’s a blur, his words, the desperation, the stretch of him.
“Feel me? Feel me fucking ruining you?” He whispers now, you just nod, tears spilling as you cry out, the sound echoing in the small space of the locker room, a mix of pain and overwhelming, sinful pleasure with him just pulsing inside you. “Who’s inside you right now?”
“You, Kuna,” your answer makes him laugh, a cruel sound, his lips against yours again. “You.”
“Me.”
*****
Sukuna
He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust like he should, like he usually does – not with your words ruining him, not with you destroying him. No, he instead sets a punishing rhythm in your tiny lil cunt, lifting you and dragging you right down his cock, the slap of his hips against your ass loud and obscene, the lockers reverberating and shaking.
Love.
Yes, Sukuna loves you – and no, it’s not pure, it’s not sweet or anything of the sort – it’s insanity, everything you put him through, the way you so utterly and effortlessly ruin him in ways that are never going to repair. If Sukuna can’t have you – even if he shares you – no one else can.
There’s no world in which he lets you go, not when you look at him with hearts in your eyes, with drool spilling from your lips, gasping out with your nails scraping uselessly against the sore shoulders of his, bare with them pressing in. “F-fuck… Kuna…”
“Yeah baby,” he groans softly, lifting your body like it’s nothing – it is nothing to him, you’re his to fuck, his to ruin, and he loves to do it. To use your body, and he knows you love that shit. “Love me usin’ ya? Fuckin’ cocksleeve f’me, pretty, perfect lil cocksleeve, hmm? For my cum, for my cock?”
“Yes,” you’re lost in it – you, once a good girl who barely kissed, becoming slutty for him, he loves every bit of the confidence in your gaze as you drink him in, as you spread your thighs as wide as they can go. “Y-yours…”
“My toy, huh? Mine,” he’s possessive then – even in moments he tries to act like he’s okay, like he’s sane, he can’t pretend when it’s raw like this – he can’t pretend like he doesn’t hope you’ll choose only him.
He hopes you fuck whatever frustrations it is out on that dumb fuck and come right back, that you’ll lose interest and stay his – toxic, maddening, infuriating – you, you, you. It’s all that’s spinning in his head like a madness, like a mantra as he fucks your cunt like he owns it.
He wants to own you. Every piece of you.
“Cunt got split open by me, hmm?” He whispers, a hand on your throat as he leans you against those lockers – you’re so sweet and pretty, even obscenely being fucked like this. You can only whimper in response, earning his soft laugh. “Can’t answer, baby?”
“Mnh,” Sukuna tugs your mouth open as he splits your cunt open like he says, as he buries himself, losing himself in your very scent, your everything.
“Open f’me,” he whispers, you so eagerly obey it’s precious as he leans so damn big over you, spittin right into your open, gasping mouth, letting that saliva just drip right down your lips. It’s filthy, degrading in other times, but with you? The spit feels like worship, like you taking him.
All him.
It’s all Sukuna could even think while he was in that boxing match, every other thought was just of you sitting there – of how he wanted you immediately, in the ring with every victory, but he can’t have you like that. It just makes him fuck you meaner, more desperate, but he knows what you can take.
“Swallow it,” he commands softly, and you do just that so fucking obedient and pretty, your throat working convulsively. “That’s it. All of me. Every fuckin’ part, hmm? Inside you.”
Sukuna fucks you desperately now, in ways he’s never been with a woman, how can he not be lost inside you? Bury his face in your neck, pounding your cunt with no mercy as she melds so pliantly to his shape.
“Made f’me,” he whispers. “This cunt is mine. You hear me? Mine – he can have you when I’m done, but you’ll always be mine.”
You sniffle at that, he wishes he could hold it back – wishes he could stay controlled and dominating, sometimes he can, usually he can. He wants to give you everything, but in this moment after his fight?
It’s all desperation.
You nod in response, gasping again. “Love… love you…”
“Yeah, do you? Love me, brat, love me fucking you like this?” You nod eagerly, h “Then cum for me, lemme feel her.”
“I’m s-so… I’m…”
“I know what you need,” he murmurs then, pulling out and having you desperate, hands trying to keep him there. He laughs softly, turning you and pressing your face against the lockers by the small of your back, lining his cock back up. “Arch.”
You do it perfectly, letting him line his cock back up, wrapping a hand around your waist and finding your twitchy clit, sinking right back inside. “Ah! Y-yes… there, please I’m…”
“I know your body, brat,” he whispers, knowing he’s showing that side he’s tried to hide so well, whispering in your ear as his rough fingers abuse that small lil clit. “You love this, don’t you? Clit is so needy. Cunt is so full. Feel me?”
He takes your hand, letting you feel that bulge as he wraps you tightly, bending down to sink right inside. “Yes, I feel you… I… Kuna!”
You shatter from one more roll of his fingertips on her, your body convulsing as he pushes you through it, as he whispers your name and loves it too much from his lips, those circles working over and over as your cunt twitches around his thick cock. Sukuna moans, feeling you milk him for all he’s worth, groaning out with you, your cunt squirting and gushing.
“There you go, who knows you?” He asks, voice hoarse.
He needs to hear it.
You’re weak when you answer – “You.”
He smiles against your neck, but it’s anything but a sweet one, it’s a possessive one, psychotic. “Who made you cum all over the fuckin’ locker room floor, has this messy cunt squirting all over, hmm?”
“You,” it spills easily from your lips as Sukuna pumps his cum inside you, burying himself deep as he floods your walls with his hot, thick release, coating every inch as he presses up on your clit, milking another orgasm from you.
“All me?”
You nod, but he can feel you shaking, feel your body and every bit of you weak against him as he presses further, making you take every little bit of his cum. “Too much, too much!”
“You can take it,” he whispers, laughing then softly. “You take it so well, like you were made for just this, hmm? Take me after every goddamn match, too.”
For a moment, you both just breathe and he hugs you too tightly, letting you come down as he pulses inside, even more cum flooding your needy hole, making you arch your ass, his fingers finally leaving your clit. He sighs, kissing up the side of your neck messy, up to your ear, as the two of you stand there.
There is so much he can’t put into words.
That he wants to kill your goddamn husband as much as he wants to make the dumb fuck worship you how you deserve, that he wants to be the one you love the most, that you’re much more than a ‘cocksleeve’ or ‘fucktoy’.
You’re everything and he’s terrified.
“Did you tell him you loved him,” Sukuna asks softly, you look back, eyes all dazed, he swipes drool from the corner of your mouth.
“No, you’re the first person I’ve ever said that to,” you admit, color dancing on your cheeks as he studies you – slowly pulling out, having you whimper at the loss, the filthy mess of his cum and your own slick begin to trickle down your thighs, the sight has him lost. Your thighs are shaking, head pressed against the lockers as he studies you.
“I’m the first person you’ve said it to?”
“Ever,” you admit softly, Sukuna moans at that, seeing just how rough he has been with you now, sinking to his knees behind you, his hands gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them wide.
Sukuna drags the hot, flat of his tongue against your cunt to lick a broad, possessive stripe from your clit all the way up to your other puckered hole, lapping up the creamy, white mess he just left inside you.
“K-Kuna!” you gasp at the sensation, your knees nearly buckling underneath if he didn’t hold you up in time. “You’re…”
He just hums against you, gathering more of his own cum and tasting it – salty and bitter to your sweetness. “Drinking us up. Us, baby. This is all us, every bit of this messy cunt.”
“Mhm,” he turns you now, so you look down at him, letting him lavish your abused cunt – the one that’s now had another man inside her. Fuck, he wanted to see it next time, he wants to see her stretch and know he can do better.
“Did he fill you this much?” Sukuna asks, looking under his long pink lashes, smirking as you tremble. “More?”
“He came alot,” you admit, he chuckles at that.
“Bet he fuckin’ did. Who wouldn’t?”
Sukuna will put more cum inside you – he’ll fill you so much Satoru Gojo is the last fucking thing you’ll think of. Yet you brush his hair back, crying out and arching, pressing your cunt more firmly against his mouth, Sukuna greedily swallows the squirt he gets from you with a hum against your pussy, swallowing his own creamy release right with you.
You’re screaming out, hands tugging hard at his hair – pulling at the roots to the point of sweet pain. “Come stay with me tonight, please? W-want you to…”
“You’re askin’ me to stay while I lick my cum out?” Sukuna smirks and chuckles, tongue licking the slick from our inner thigh. “Cute.”
“Answer me – you brat,” you tease, making him laugh again, thumbs brushing hints of blood against your skin.
“I wish I could,” he parts your lips, looking at his own mess, breathing against it and making you jerk. “I’ll be there tomorrow, okay? I promise I won’t leave you with his dumb ass alone too long.”
“Mmm…” your eyes flutter shut, rocking your hips rhythmically so that your slick drags all against his skin, his cock is already throbbing again. Then I’ll miss you tonight...”
“One night?” You nod and he moans, lavishing you up even more, eyeing how pretty you are when your head slams the lockers, when your thigh is thrown over his shoulder and he’s drinking every bit of his own cum from you.
As if Sukuna will let you forget him even for the night.
No, Sukuna needs you to remember him, even when Satoru Gojo – your ‘husband’ – is pathetically begging for you.
*****
You
You step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel, swiping some of the fog from the mirror that night. Satoru had to go to a business dinner and is just walking in as you step out, thighs pressed together just a bit, seeing the way his eyes drift across you achingly slow, like a physical touch.
One time, they were cruel.
Then, they were hungry.
Now, they’re devoted almost, the way he exhales ever so slowly and loosens his tie at the knot, kicking his pretty, expensive ass dress shoes off at the door.
Fuck if your sort of husband wasn’t sexy.
“Enjoy the match?” He asks, voice edged with that sarcasm, but you don’t answer back that way.
“I did have a good time…” your cheeks heat up a bit as he undoes his collar, looking devastatingly handsome in the darkness of the evening.
“Bet you did,” he says, laughing and shaking his head. “Does he just deepen those marks every time?”
“Maybe,” you murmur, touching your throat carefully – as if Satoru hadn’t left his own, but Sukuna had sucked each one, like he’d mark you harder, deeper. You barely manage to hold it together as you talk. “Did you have a good dinner?”
“Was boring as shit with a bunch of old geezers and horny ass, middle aged women that want to get fucked,” he admits, hands in his pockets, walking over toward you.
“Oh, any pretty ones?”
“Yeah, some are pretty – but can’t say I paid much attention,” he admits, surprising you, words you never thought you’d hear. “Kept thinking about this girl I’m married to, knowing she was fucking a dumb, pink haired boxer.”
“I think you two like each other,” he snorts, standing in front of you now, tilting your chin up.
“Heard you got Jennifer a position with your family, it was a bit of talk at the dinner in fact.”
“I did, if that's okay?” He frowns now at you, jaw tensing a bit. “Was she that bad of a secretary?”
“She was fine at that I guess,” he admits, shrugging a shoulder, toying with a damp strand of your hair. “Why though?”
“I felt bad.” Satoru laughs without humor, you clutch your towel tighter. “I do.”
“Why the fuck would you feel bad for her?”
“She clearly was in love with you,” he blinks now as if you’ve said something insane. “You didn't know?”
“She loved sucking my dick, loved getting expensive gifts, and loved cumming. Not me.”
“No, she loved you… you don’t act like that for no reason.”
“Yeah no one does,” Satoru says, but before you can open your lips to say that cannot be true – he halts you. “No, that's not some ‘oh poor me’ shit, I just know that isn't what she felt.
You frown now. “Are you so unlovable to everyone?”
The question hangs in the air – once you thought Satoru was the world, then Satoru crushed your world, your everything – but now it was so hard to understand. Satoru was flawed, he was selfish, he was cruel and utterly immature – but there was more to him than what brimmed on that surface, and you knew it.
“Have you met me yet?” He shakes his head, sighing now. “Yeah I am, and I already know it. There is a difference between loving my cock, or my fingers…” He smirks a bit. “My sad method of eating pussy.”
“Satoru…”
“Difference between that and loving me.”
“Well, it's not only your cock I like, in fact…”
“You like my cock?”
“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, holding the towel tightly – just for him to tug it even closer, pulling you near. “You’re not just that is all I mean. I am sure that there is a lot to you that…” you look away then.
“You hate me. Remember?”
You do.
Right?
You swallow now, letting him hold that towel for you instead, just that as the thin barrier between his body and yours, feeling his breath nearly against you, your heart hammering in your chest.
“I guess I forget a bit for a minute,” he trails his fingertips down your shoulder as you heart breaks. He almost looks boyish with his hair brushed back off his forehead, you can't help but step closer. “You couldn't have always been so terrible, there’s no way.”
He smiles and it’s a sad one. “I was born like that.”
“You're ridiculous, I remember getting to meet you as a kid,” he sighs, brows together. “You were defending this kid from getting bullied. And you said hi to me… you were sweet, if anything.”
“I wish I could remember that,” he says almost longingly, tugging you closer and leaning low, his lips far, far too close. “What am I allowed to do when you're mine, when your attention is just on me?”
“Allowed to do?” You whisper, as he steps back, fingers brushing across the terry of the towel. “I um… there are no rules or… there isn't a guidebook for this mess, Satoru. It's a mess.”
“It is,” he admits, sighing now, letting the towel fall and having his breath catch. “Fuck… you're so beautiful.”
Your answer is to tug him down and kiss him, letting him pull your body against his. Things still feel so tentative and new with him, with Sukuna you're declaring love, you're open.
Satoru it's scary.
You don't ever know what to say, what to feel, but it's there – cruel and merciless, the need for him to be so close. To be consumed as he praises you in ways you never thought he would, pressing your body so you feel his hard length underneath his slacks.
“Can I say that this time?” He asks, you swallow nervously, reflexively, looking right into those heart breaking eyes. “Can I say how I can’t even believe how beautiful you are?”
“If you mean it… I can’t believe that you…”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ mean that shit,” he whispers, lips pressing against yours over and over. “Fuck I can't stop thinking about it,” he shakes his head, cupping your face. “Was it the hate that made it feel so good? Was it just you?”
“I don’t know either…” You don’t have a clue what this is, when he’s lifting you and the towel is all gone, and he’s carrying you right to his bed – his bed – hovering over you, his lips drinking every cry. Your nails dig into his chest, making him moan, spreading your thighs and pressing his clothed cock on your slick, needy cunt.
“Is she already stretched out?” He murmurs softly, an insult – but you nod, he already knows Sukuna was inside you. “Does she need more cum inside?”
“Yes,” he blinks for a moment and you do too, heat dancing on your cheeks – you’re not sweet to Satoru, you can’t be. “Why are you still dressed? Like fucking me with your clothes on?”
“You’ve become so slutty, tsk,” he’s trembling a bit as he leans up, unbuttoning his shirt, showing you his hard chest and that abdomen, he’s not tattooed like Sukuna but there’s a little one on his ribs that your fingers brush, he sucks in a breath at the contact, his eyes locking on yours.
Just what did go through his head?
Was this some distraction until your inevitable end? Or did this mean something to him, did those kisses actually mean more than he could say? Why do you want it so goddamn bad – when Sukuna loves you, when that’s more than enough – why do you also have to want Satoru like this? Why do you feel this?
He’s yanking off his tie now, standing and undoing his belt, looking over every inch of you – you watch hungrily and eagerly as he tugs his pretty cock out, already leaking and dripping white, smacking his flat stomach and splattering against that white hair underneath his belly button.
“On your knees for me, sweetheart,” he’s never talked to you that way, you pause, on your elbows for a moment. “If you want, I’ll tie your pretty wrists, fuck you dumb, pump all that cum inside. Is that what you want?”
You don’t beg for it like you would with Sukuna, your answer is to get on your knees and turn, letting him press your wrists back, tying them as his breaths rush through him quicker. “Mnghh… I j-just…”
“You want that? Answer me,” he whispers as he is binding your wrists, tugging right at the knot. You’re even wetter when he tugs so hard that your wrists hurt, breasts rising and falling with your quick breaths, his lips against your ear. “Words.”
“Yes, okay? Yes…”
Did he need it from you, like you need it from him?
“Hah…” His laugh sends shivers across your spine, down the back of our neck. “Say you hate me.”
“I hate you,” there’s not enough there anymore, he tilts your chin and studies you, his other hand wrapping your throat, squeezing where Sukuna had earlier. “So much, too.”
You wish you hated Satoru – wouldn’t that make things better? Instead, you’re arching for his cock, begging for his touch, dying to be taken over.
Maybe you do hate him, for how fucking much you want it.
******
Satoru
“Yeah, that much?” He smiles just a bit, fingertips tracing down the curve of your spine, darting between to find your soaking wet cunt, moaning when he feels you.
Satoru positions you so your ass is arched up, his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair at the nape of your neck, still damp from the shower and coating his hands in the fragrant remnants of your conditioner, like silk against his fingers. He inhales it pathetically really, pressing your face deeper into the pillows.
“Seen you arch for him, you can f’me, hmm?” He taunts, as if he doesn’t want to beg, as if he’s not desperate to have any of you. “Lemme see how good you can do.”
He expects and argument, anything other than you arching, he can’t help but groan and lean back, parting your messy cunt all abused from Sukuna earlier, but if anything it makes him more fucking feral.
“Should fuck his cum out and fill you with mine, hmm?” He murmurs, laughing softly as he drags his fingertips up you. “Ready? Do I not need to touch you first?”
“Shut up and fuck me,” he laughs again – there she is, the mad girl who hates him, the one who makes this all easier to deal with.
Somewhat.
The inevitable fact that you’re going to fucking leave him – he doesn’t know how long it’ll take, but he doubts there’s a world he gets to stay. So he’ll be greedy, he’ll take every bit of you he knows he doesn’t deserve, stroking his already hard cock and biting down on his lower lip.
“Well I don’t see that mess, hmm?”
“He ate it out of me,” he pauses now, blinking just a bit.
Sukuna really was some fucking freak.
He never thought he’d be out freaked, but as it stands, that man is clearly filthy – though the thought of licking his own cum…
Fuck.
“Oh, how sweet of him – are we sharing you properly for now?” He taunts, leaning low and lapping a stripe up your slit, all clean and perfect from your shower. You whine out, he parts your folds to watch your clit twitch for him. “Mmm… almost like co parenting, but with a slutty lil wife instead.”
“Such a dick,” your voice is muffled by the fabric of the pillow you’re pressed against, he licks once more before spreading you wide and spitting right in your hole, the sight utterly filthy.
He remembers the first time he tasted you, on that counter when you let him lick your thigh, when Sukuna let him.
Let him.
Taste his wife.
Taste you – dangerously sweet — addictive like the sweets he loved when he was younger. Looking at the bubbly mess spilling when he shouldn't even be granted such a sight – yet here you were, spreading wide open for him.
“So eager for my cock, hmm?” You say nothing, just whining out again, the sound throaty and slutty.
He wants to say so much more, the dumbest shit that he should never think to utter out loud, barely holding it back. That when you look at him the way you do it ruins him in a way that is terrifyingly not only sexual.
His whole life women wanted him for his looks. His money, his power – and he let them think there was a chance, played their games and enjoyed their wet mouths, their cunts milking his cock. The way they were so devoted.
You didn't want that.
You hated him, yet here you were.
“Beggin' to be split open by my cock,” he loves how you feel. He loves how pretty your ass is, how your pussy is fluttering just for him.
Yet all he can say is filth, he knows even calling you beautiful hurts you.
He hurt you.
If only he could fuck away every memory of what he did, and fill you with what he wishes he could do.
Satoru leans over you now, cock gliding up and down your slit, the pink tip catching the gush that’s sliding out of your needy hole – watching you tremble as he presses your head down.
“Fuck you in my bed,” he whispers, losing any tentative fucking control he has – it’s all out of the goddamn window with you. “I'm going to fuck every thought from your pretty head, do you want that, sweetheart? To be fucked dumb?”
“Yes,” he groans then, he can’t take it – how raw and real every bit of you as, he pushes into your tiny cunt and groans, easing as his head pops in, getting sucked by those tacky lil walls, the ones quivering right around him, begging for more. “Fuck, why do you feel s’good? God, I hate you for it.”
“Mngh…” You say nothing this time, not with your wrists bound, just gushing when he pulls back again, running his tip up and down until you’re about to cum from just that – he can tell in every way you tense, every movement you make.
“Need me inside?”
“Jus’ f-fuck me… you’re… ah!”
“Ask nicely baby,” he whispers, chuckling as he tugs your hair back, and you glare at him. “For me inside you.”
“You ask nicely,” he sighs, laughing and shaking his head.
“I begged last time.”
“You should every time,” Satoru moans at that, kissing you again as he brings you to your knees and plunges his cock inside – in one long, deep stroke, filling you and stretching you right there, making you gasp out, your head falling back.
“God…” Satoru groans, kissing down your neck, god you fit him so perfect – surely you’re made for him, even if he’s ruined it all, even if some other dumb fuck got you – he’ll enjoy every moment he gets.
Inhaling you.
Kissing you.
Fucking you.
Satoru loses his mind inside you – god how perfect – thrusting his cock so deep, balls slapping your clit, pressing you down and moving in and out faster, hovering over you as you cry out, helpless and so small in comparison to Satoru’s huge, long body. “I'm going to fuck you so full of me you'll forget what his cum even feels like, huh? Forget his cock, forget him.”
“Psycho, y-you…” a choked out little whimper escapes your lips as he buries himself deep, pressing you into the mattress, his weight heavy as you gasp out. He’s prone over you, cock moving faster, breathing out your name against your ear.
“I wish I could get in your head and rip out every fucking memory,” he whispers now, shoving his cock fully now. He doesn't move or let you move, even as you wriggle and beg, letting you feel every inch of him. “All me, want it all me… fuck you know you should belong to me.”
Your answers are muffled curse words as one of his big hands slides from your hair down to your throat, his long fingers wrapping around it and tilting your chin up, leaving you helpless underneath him squeezing at your pulse points. He feels it fluttering right underneath his thumb as you look at him with dazed eyes.
“Tell me how you don’t, how you never will be mine,” he begs it, as he kisses you in between words, squeezing your throat and swallowing every pretty cry you give him, cock steadily pounding even deeper in you. “Mmm, how many times will I even get this, get you like this?”
“Satoru…”
“Yes, call me that – fuck,” he’s not the ‘in control, dominant’ Gojo, even with your wrists bound and your pussy being railed by him, even with the way Satoru absolutely ruins your cunt until you’re breathless.
He’s not in control even if you’re being choked.
It’s all you, just a little whisper of his name is enough to almost make him bust, insane thoughts of breeding your needy cunt filling his mind – when he never even wanted that shit. But wouldn’t you have to stay, then? Wouldn’t you be bound to him forever if he could?
“Put a baby in you first – hah,” he laughs softly, watching the look of fucked out pleasure turn to shock, the drool slipping down the corner of your mouth. “How would you leave me then?”
“You don’t w-want that…” He moans right with you, squeezing harder now, fucking your pretty body into the matress, his other hand snaking down, finding your clit.
“Arch up,” you eagerly do, letting him find that pressure he already knows you love, pretty patterns on a clit he knows was licked on, sucked on, touched – he wishes it turned him off.
He wishes it didn’t make him want to fuck you better.
“That’s it, wanna cum, hmm? All over my cock like the pretty lil slut you are,” your answer is a whine, bound and helpless, obeying as he has your clit dripping down to the sheets, the sounds of his breaths and the rhythmic slaps even louder.
“Yes… ah!” Satoru’s lost in you, as he buries his face against the back of your neck, inhaling you, feeling your bound arms pressed underneath him.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, a cruel tone – but you peek at him, lips parted – looking in a fucking daze. “Does it?”
“Yes but…” you sigh, swallowing and then whining as his fingertips continue their assault, as his cock keeps stretching you out. “I…”
“Love it?” You say nothing, nodding, but he leans up and un ties them quickly, rubbing your wrist in his hand, pressing it up over that pillow and pinning it with his free hand, eyeing the marks, making him feral. “Has he tied you?”
“No,” you surprise him just a bit, but he squeezes your wrist brutally, continuing to fuck your tiny cunt.
How is it so perfect?
How are you everything he’s ever wanted, but all he did was push you? Fucking make you leave, make you do anything and everything to leave him, to make you think he didn’t feel what he did.
Now he hates himself even more – a special type of hate, truly. Perhaps part of him always has – but he doesn’t hate himself enough not to fuck you, not to taste you, not to make you shatter as he drags his tip against your walls, feeling you shatter. You cry out his name as you fall apart, letting him watch as you do.
Satoru stays pressed inside you, body taking you over as you shake, cunt making a drooly mess all across his fingers, your lashes fluttering – tears spiking at the ends of them. “Move, move…”
“Mmm… in a minute,” he whispers, just staying there – pressed against your cervix, he knows you’re stuffed full – he knows you can feel him. “Too deep, baby?”
“Mhm,” you whisper, but you arch back more, curve of your ass against him, making him chuckle ever so softly, clenching your cunt right around his length. “Move, sh-shit…”
"Who is inside you right now?” He whispers, posessive and sick – aren’t you a sickness, everything fucking about you?
Don’t you ruin him by existing, especially when you look at him, and his thumb is on your fluttering pulse, holding your chin up. “Would you just… can you… move, fuck…”
“Who are you with now?" he asks, his hips finally starting to move. It's a slow, grinding rhythm, devastating in its intensity – each drag of his slick length against your walls feels like it's going to make him bust then and there, you’re almost impossible for him to handle, to take and act straight.
How he’s forming words is hard to even fathom.
"Who's inside you right now, making you squirt all over? Answer f’me… fuck, jus’ answer…"
"You," you choke out finally, tears spilling from your pretty, fucked out eyes. “You, god just…”
“Say it,” he whispers desperately, sweat dripping down your skin, slick as he moves even faster. “Don’t fuckin’ call me Gojo.”
There is a quiet moment and he pauses again, but you finally grip those sheets with your hands, still marked from his tie, shaking underneath him.
"Satoru."
"Good girl," he murmurs – condescending he’s sure – he’s sure he sounds like a fucking dick when all he wants to do is praise you truly.
“Choke me,” you whisper then, using a hand to press his harder, he falters.
He wishes you didn’t know you loved that.
Yet all he can do is listen, is give you everything.
“Choke you, hmm? Wasn’t I?”
“No, really fucking do it,” he loves you.
God he loves you.
Squeezing his hand so hard with your own – so much smaller than Satoru’s huge ones, than his five inch fucking fingers that swallow your throat, letting you put that pressure you want.
“Really… choke… m-me – ah!”
“Like this?” He asks softly, his fingers pressing down harder this time – more pressure like you ask for – just enough to restrict your airflow, to make your head dizzy, fuzzy, feeling your cunt just contract right around him. “Like that, baby? Choke every little thought away?”
“Mhm…”
“You’re almost sweet like this, hah,” he’s taunting, but the way you give in is fucking addictive, as he squeezes harder and earns your cunt spasming right around his cock, tip dragging just so. "You feel that?
His pace picks up as you feel too goddamn good, becoming more desperate, more needy for you – all of you. Your answer is some incoherent mumble as his cock makes filthy fucking noises in your slutty hole, balls slapping hard on your clit – so full of his own cum.
"Feel how I'm filling you up?" He asks, knowing you can’t answer.
He loves hearing your cries, ruining you like he’s never loved anything else – never has being inside being someone felt like this, the devotion with every movement absolutely tearing him apart.
How much of him would be left when he was done?
How much of you would be?
Could he fuck his cum so deep it replaces every goddamn bit of Sukuna?
He wants to.
“God I want it…”
“Want… mnh… wha- ah!”
You’re cumming when Satoru mumbles in your ear incoherently, words you don’t get to hear, ones you’re not meant to – “you to love me.”
*****
You
There is no hearing.
There is no thoughts while Satoru is pounding your messy cunt, one stretched open by a man you love, just to be filled by a man you wish you hate – no.
It's confusing – so fucking confusing, everything about Gojo choking you, about him stealing your breath as he strokes his cock deep – was it anything like Jennifer, like Chloe?
You shouldn’t be jealous, you shouldn’t care – you have Sukuna, and you know that shit is love, then why do you still want so badly for Satoru to want you, crave you, love you too? Why do you desire it all, the way he takes you over, the pain and the dizzying pleasure of every filthy stroke?
He's hurting your throat, your cunt is trying it’s best to take him – there's a desperate edge to his movements, a frantic need in the way he's fucking you, the way his breath hitches against your neck, his whisper of your name. He's not just taking you this time, he doesn’t just take and take – no, he's begging for more from you, breaking you piece by piece and putting you back together.
Satoru takes your breath away like Sukuna does.
But it’s cruel.
It’s mean.
Knowing this was all there – knowing he showed you how terrible he was instead, knowing for a month you watched him and waited, wanting to have this, fuck you didn’t even know this existed with Satoru.
“God, feel you milkin’ me… needy lil slut,” he eases his hand now, sighing as his cock slams deep – pressing his forehead against the back of your head, his movements becoming erratic, desperate, losing their rhythm. “Made to ruin me… fuck what you do – god you feel s’fuckin’ perfect…”
“Don’t say that,” you plead, sniffling as he holds your throat again, his grip tightening and loosening as if he can't decide whether to possess you or break you – as if he doesn’t know if he should go easy or gentle.
“Don’t say it? God, I wish I didn’t need to,” he laughs in that cruel way you used to hate – but when he’s inside you, you love it. “I want to ruin you – I want to be the one who breaks you, the one you think about when you're with him.”
“Satoru… don’t fucking… say…”
Sukuna said it too, he meant that shit.
But you never thought that Satoru…
Do you want this, two men desperately fucking the memory of each other away? Ruining your body and mind as they fight over you, as they desperately take and take from you.
What will be left when they’re done?
Even filled with cock you wonder it – wonder how long they’ll ever want a girl like you, wonder why they do, to the point you tense, and Satoru realizes it, pausing, pulling out and making you cry out.
He shoves your thighs up until they’re smushing your tits, and those thighs are trembling when his hands run over them.
“Do you wanna know what I really think, sweetheart?” Satoru asks, dangerous – his eyes dark, the ceiling fan whirling and brushing his long soft white hair over his brow. You swallow nervously.
“I can’t t-trust anything from you…” He exhales, cock dragging back up and down, up and down – fucking maddening. “Yes though… wanna… know…”
“I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk straight tomorrow,” he smirks, cupping your face. “I wanna fuck you so goddamn rough that every step you take reminds you of me – of my cock buried, of my cum dripping out of you.”
"You're so fucking confusing," you whisper, letting him sink back inside, your eyes rolling back in your skull as he leans over you with that heavy weight, folding you right in a mating press.
“Me, confusing?” He’s whimpering against your hair, your ear, fucking you so goddamn filthy, your blood rushing and mixing with his broken, husky voice.
The words next are what finally ruin you.
"Why do I want you this much? Why do I want to be the one who ruins you, that has you, that wants you? Why did I push you the fuck away – why? God, why do you fucking ruin my every waking moment…"
His hips slam forward harder, faster, folding you so in half he’s hard to take – you feel it then, your tears.
You're crying now.
It’s not the pain, the fullness, no – it’s the terrifying realization that this desperate, broken man might be just as dangerous to you as Sukuna is – that you might just be as in love with him. That all consuming love, the type you can’t feel for two.
But you know it, trapped in your throat as he leans up and his hands press so deep into your flesh, as it bruises those thighs.
You still love Satoru – no.
You didn’t love him before you knew him, you thought you did – now you have an all consuming love for two goddamn men.
Broken ones, like you.
Broken ones that you wish you could put back together, but you’re scared you’ll only rip them further apart. As he pauses and falters, stuttering hips, tilting his head and easing his movements.
“Look at you, crying for me,” he breathes out – almost cruelly – was it cruel?
Did you love it?
Do you love this?
“Is it because it feels too good, or because you hate how much you love it?” He makes you glare, teeth clenched together.
“Shut up and cum,” he laughs at that, you’re never mean – you’re sweet, but with Satoru he brings that shit out.
Sukuna brings it out too – the brattiness you never knew you could feel.
They both take so much from you, the bring so much out.
You fucking love them, don’t you? You love Sukuna who is good for you, and you love Satoru who is terrible for you – but you sure the fuck won’t admit it now, even as Gojo has you split apart on his cock and bent in half.
“It doesn't matter,” he whispers now, kissing you again. “You can just say you hate me, isn’t it easier?” You feel a tear slipping from the corner of your eye.
It’s easier.
Than admitting you love two men.
“I do hate you…” He kisses you deeper, moaning into your lips, as if he knows you don’t mean it.
I love you, I hate you, I despise you.
Satoru I hate and love what I became because of you.
Yet you say – I hate you.
"Say it again," he whispers. "Tell me those pretty lies about how fucking much you hate me."
"I hate you," you sob out those words – he knows what they are.
You do hate him – how can you not hate him for making you want this, for making you feel this twisted, destructive love when you're supposed to belong to someone else, someone who is devoted and loving?
How can you go from so unloved to feeling this?
“Want me to cum inside, hmm? The man you fuckin’ hate so much?” He asks now – Satoru and Sukuna give you this choice, in their own way.
They both do.
You want both of them.
You nod, and he laughs, pausing.
“Answer me.”
“Cum in me,” he moans then, falling apart and shattering – his white puffy ropes of cum replacing what was inside, shattering right with you and kissing you messy, desperate.
“Wanna put all my goddamn heirs inside,” he laughs, like he’s lost his fucking mind. “God I do – I wanna have so many babies, let them run our fucking families into the goddamn ground.”
“Ngh, psycho…” He’s just pumping now, slowing as he kisses you, as you try to catch a breath.
There was no breathing with him.
Just utter confusion when he cleans you after, when he brushes your still damp hair that has left his pillows wet, putting it up carefully as he stands behind you in that mirror.
Your hands grip the bathroom sink as you look up at him.
How long could you have them both?
Why could one not be enough, why are you greedy, terrible, split into pieces for men that hate each other – one who you should still hate – but the one who leans against you, staring at your fucked out reflection in the mirror. He leans low, and you feel his hard body against you, feel his hand delicately brushing your throat, smile on his lips.
“Guess I left my own marks,” he whispers, lips against your ear. “Do you like me tying you up? Choking you?”
“You’re just a freak,” you mumble, he laughs again.
“And you’re not? Was a good girl, a sweet, innocent one, now look at you,” he tilts your chin up, showing all those marks from both men. “Covered in us, full of us… answer me.”
“Yes I liked it,” you look into his blue eyes now, sighing. “It won’t be long though, right? You want the divorce so… this is what, some distraction?”
He pauses, faltering.
“Don’t answer…” You shake your head and go to turn, to be pinned to that sink by him, suffocating. “Gojo just…”
“Sleep in my bed,” you gasp, looking up at him now.
“What?”
“In my bed just…” He exhales and leans low, a hand on either side of you, until his pretty face is level. “Tonight.”
“Why?”
“I’m fucking asking you.”
“I…” you blink tears now. “When I saw her in your bed, nothing fucking hurt me more, Satoru. Nothing.”
He swallows now.
“I know Sukuna probably didn’t feel good to see, I know I’m not innocent or perfect – but I was trying, then. I tried so hard and you… you just rejected and…” You’re losing it, shaking as he holds you, even as you sob, even as you smack at him. “It hurt, it hurts… it still…”
“I know,” you feel his tears now. “I’ll give you the go as soon as you want, I swear to god just… please, a night. To hold you, even if I shouldn’t get it.”
“Gojo…”
“Please…”
“Satoru,” you finish, trying to pull it together, hardly able to think as you blink and look up at him – tears blurring your vision. “Why?”
“I don’t fucking know,” he admits, cupping your face. “I just want a night to hold you in my bed.”
“One,” you answer softly.
One.
One you say, as he pulls you close, and an arm wraps your waist, thumbs brushing up underneath your tits, running little circles, and you feel as comfy as you do with Sukuna. He texts you, and you pick it up, suddenly eaten by guilt – even if Sukuna knows, and he’s fine, this is so much.
It’s almost too much – being shared by two men, being torn apart.
Sukuna – I’ll be there in the morning, brat. You gonna make me breakfast or is the twink?
“He calls me that!?”
“Don’t read my texts,” you scowl back at him and he sighs, tugging you even tighter. “You called him a ‘dumb pink haired fuck’.”
“Well he is.”
You – I’ll make you breakfast, Kuna.
“I’ll make you breakfast Kuna – ow!” You’ve turned and shoved Satoru almost off the bed, and he can’t help but laugh.
And fuck if that doesn’t break you further, is cute ass laugh, the way he keeps going the more you smack at him, until you’re laughing too – despite yourself, despite everything, pausing. He holds your waist and swallows, looking into your eyes, a million words left unsaid between you – like a physical weight, you can feel it, all of it.
He lets out a breath, and you realize you’re straddling him, his hands darting across your waist.
“Is he coming for breakfast?” Satoru asks now, making you shift a bit, feeling him harden again impossibly.
“He is,” you say now. “Or we could go to his place?’
“No, he can come here,” Satoru mumbles, leaned up on his elbows – even in the night, his eyes are bright. “I wanna be all that’s in your fucking head.”
“Oh do you?” You murmur – so does Sukuna.
But you’re fucking torn.
“I wish I was, I wish I could fuck every memory away,” he brushes your panties to the side, moaning at the mess the men have made you as you cry out. “I could keep trying all goddamn night, but I know he’s buried fucking deep – so deep I can’t get him out.”
“You can’t,” you lean over him, even as he’s running his fingers across your sore cunt. “I love him.”
“I know you do,” he whispers, the energy between you both sickening as it is addictive.
Satoru – bright and pure – is the darkness.
Sukuna – dark and sadistic – is the brightness.
What are you?
“You can try all you want,” you taunt now, knowing you’re playing a dangerous game with him.
“Fuck you in your sleep?” He whispers, you blush and he laughs. “Oh… haven’t done that, sweet girl?”
“Sweet, thought you hate me,” he drags you down and you tug his lips open, curious then. “Open for me.”
“For you?” He smirks, but then he sees your eyes. “Oh… you’re trying to out freak me, hmm? Think it’s possible?”
“Open,” you whisper again, before spitting a little trail of saliva in Satoru’s eager tongue, his mouth wide and ready, he whines out as it hits, as he stays there underneath you, and you can’t help but feel powerful and that moment. “Swallow.”
Satoru’s adam’s apple bops as he obeys.
*****
“Ahem…” It’s early morning, and you’re utterly sore and aching when you hear it – your boyfriend Sukuna eyeing the mess you and Satoru are in his bed, swirling the house keys that he fucking made himself.
“Kuna!” You lean up now, grinning at him as he takes you in, smirking when he sees the choke marks and the little bruises on Satoru’s throat.
“Damn, what’d you do to the kid?”
“She’s a fucking psycho,” he mumbles, coughing as he wakes up, trying to tug you against him, burying his face in your neck. “Five more minutes.”
“Nah,” Sukuna climbs right in the bed and tugs you to him, smirking as he studies you. “Missed my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Morning, Kuna,” you whisper, kissing him sweetly, as his weight sinks the bed – feeling them both against you.
Satoru is hard behind you.
Sukuna is hard in front of you.
You’ve done a tiny bit with them together but not everything. Sukuna tugs down your top and moans at the sight of your puffy nipple, as Satoru’s kissing up your bare shoulder.
Trapped between a man you hate and a man you love.
Yet you can’t stop the way your ass pushes back, and your tits press up.
You want them both.
Patreon for new original stories - Kofi link for commissions <3
Your husband Sukuna has what you might call… a penchant for summer rain. His body runs incredibly warm, so you equate it to an animal cooling off in a lake. Unfortunately, he’s unable to do so in the estate’s natural hot springs, so he settles for the cool rains.
This comes with the side effect that when the burly man tilts his head up into the rain, his hair sticking to his temples and a frown glued to his lips– he bears a very similar appearance to a brooding and moody theatre performance. It never fails to have you stifling a laugh as you watch the four-armed brute simply exist in the peace of rainfall.
You don’t dare interrupt him, lest you want a grumpy and overheating overgrown cat miserably trudging around the estate barking orders. Leaving him be is a show in and of itself when your ladies in waiting and guards begin to notice, all giggling to themselves at the King of Curses, sopping wet and yet completely in his element.
That is, until he catches wind of laughter, and his sharp gaze tilts to pinpoint where it comes from. Thankfully for the estate’s personnel, it’s always you who laughs the loudest. His eyes narrow, minute as he tilts his chin up like your giggling is a challenge. He begins trudging towards you when he suddenly loses his footing, sending him straight into a puddle of fresh mud.
Covering your lips in an effort to suppress your laughter is all for naught when the king fixes you with a glare that would strike fear into your very heart were you not married to him. It doesn’t help that mud has splattered across his chest, coating his back and elbows, and mattes his hair. So now he really does look like a brooding animal splayed unhappily in the mud.
He pushes to his feet with an indignant huff, trudging towards you with a dark gleam in his eyes that has you squealing as you turn on your heel to get away from the man who’s about to trail mud through every hall without a care. You turn the first corner, but his long legs already have him right behind you, two arms wrapping around your middle as he throws you over his shoulder without a care for your freshly cleaned kimono.
“Sukuna!” You gasp as the cold mud clings to your skin, wriggling in his grip.
“We shall see how you enjoy being coated in mud,” he huffs again, making a point to rub his muddy hair into your side. It shouldn’t shock you that he’s running very warm right now and the cold mud in his hair is a shock to your system as he drags you to the bathhouse.
“Kuna!” You cry out again, pressing your hands against his broad back. The muscles ripple with every step he takes, undeniably irritable as he makes way towards the bathhouse. He deposits you less like his partner and more like a nuisance into the bath that awaited him the moment he decided to stand in the rain. He doesn’t even bother removing your robes when he plops you down into the basin.
Sputtering as water gets in your mouth, you shake your head and wipe water from your eyes before fixing him with a glare.
A prideful smirk is left on the arrogant brute’s face as he stands over you, unaware that he still looks undeniably like a cat that’s had a bad day. For the moment, however, he’s satisfied.
“Happy?” You playfully roll your eyes, unable to deny the smile slowly curling on your lips.
“Something of the sort,” he agrees as he derobes and lowers himself into the water. His hands find you in an instant, positioned at your hips as he drags you through the water towards him. His voice is a low purr when he speaks, his lips against your temple. “May I derobe you?”
You hum, melting into his muddy embrace. “You may.”
summary: sukuna has loved you since you were in high school, and when he finally gets his chance with you, four years after graduation, he's the perfect boyfriend.
he treats you like you're worth more than the entire world, devoted solely to you, committed to keeping you healthy and happy in his arms for all eternity.
if only he wasn't killing people behind your back.
word count: 11.5k
content: 18+ mdni, smut, dub-con in the later chapters, dark content, rough sex, yandere sukuna, obsession, stalking, murder, blood, gore, manipulation, deception, unhealthy dynamics, jealousy, cheating (reader cheats on her bf with sukuna), sukuna is awful in this but he's good to reader exclusively, fic takes place in the early 2000s, semi-public sex, toxicity, arguing, horror, reference to past unhealthy sexual encounters
a/n: sorry for the delay I hope you enjoy sukuna doing his best :)
Your foot was tapping nervously at the floor, your lower lip practically chewed raw with anxiety. You’d been staring at the door for a good half an hour, fear building with each tick of the clock, awaiting the tell-tale sound of someone stepping into the trailer.
It had been two days since you’d last seen or even talked to Sukuna, two days since he’d shown up in your room in the middle of the night. You knew he’d be dropping by shortly, coming to meet you for lunch just like he always would - assuming that he wasn’t too enraged with your silence.
And you really weren’t sure what you were meant to say to him.
Yes, on one hand you’d been turned on by what he’d done. There was a sick part of you that loved it when he was dominant and forceful, a part of you that enjoyed a hint of fear when he fucked you.
But you couldn’t help but feel that his actions from the other night had crossed a line you weren’t comfortable crossing.
After what had happened to Ryu all those years ago, it was insensitive of Sukuna to think that breaking into your house wouldn’t inspire a new level of concern within you. Because if he could break in, then anyone could. And that had you feeling completely unsafe in your own home.
You couldn’t really understand why he’d thought it was a good idea in the first place. Perhaps it was on you for not setting clearer boundaries - considering how many kinky things the two of you had been exploring over the past few weeks, it was possible he’d just gotten carried away.
Although, even with that excuse he should’ve known better.
You were fine with him tying you up, or spanking you, or even waking you up with his cock already buried inside of you - but you didn’t want him breaking into your house again. No matter what.
And you also didn’t want him trying to fuck you with your family or family-friends listening in while it happened, because as hot as you’d found it in the moment, you’d woken up the next morning in total mortification - forced to sit across from Hiromi and realise that he was actively avoiding your gaze, a slight flush on his pale cheeks.
So yeah, you were kind of mad at Sukuna.
But you also didn’t love the idea of confronting him, so you’d taken the very childish option of icing him out until he came to you.
And come he did, pushing through the door right on schedule, his face an almost comedic mix of joy and stormy frustration. It was clear that on one hand he’d been missing you, and finally seeing you was making his day, but he was also desperately angry at your silence - an outcome that you were prepared for, but it did little to quell your fear as he approached.
“Hey, baby. Broken cell phone?” He asked, his voice cold.
You paused, wondering if it would be wise to run with that excuse in an attempt to temper his frustration at least a little. But the rage dancing in his crimson eyes told you that he already knew your phone wasn’t broken, and all lying would do is aggravate him further.
“No.” You took a deep breath.
“Right, right. Okay, then what the fuck?” His hands were flat on your desk, allowing him to lean over the barrier separating the two of you. He was staring down at you evenly, looking at you with an expression that you’d never seen him wear - he’d usually regard you with such affection and reverence that you’d never had the chance to see him enraged.
“I- uh- I’ve been busy.” It was a weak response and you both knew it. You needed to be honest with him and there you were running at the first sign of confrontation. The incredulous look in his eyes made it clear that he was less than happy with your answer.
“Busy doing what?” He hissed. “Fucking that old friend of yours?”
“What?” You asked, genuinely caught off guard.
“You heard me. You disappeared off after he arrived.”
Lashes fluttering, you sat back in your chair, revulsion coursing through you at the mere insinuation that you’d ever be disloyal to him. “You- you’ve got to be joking right now. He left the morning after you-” you hesitated, voice dropping in the off chance that your father was listening in from outside. “After you broke in…”
Sukuna seemed unmoved, painted nails digging in against the wood of the desk. “And I’m just supposed to just take your word for it? After you’ve ignored me for days?”
“I wasn’t- I’d never-” you scrambled to find your words, completely blindsided by the situation. You’d expected him to be frustrated with you, but you hadn’t expected a whole array of accusations to be thrown your way for something you’d never even dream of doing. “W-why would you think that?”
“Well, it's not like this would be the first time you’ve cheated,” he said easily, the statement dripping with casual cruelty, leaving your mouth agape.
The horror of those words hit you immediately, a nasty twisting feeling making itself known in your gut. He was right, of course, it wouldn't be the first time you’d cheated, but to throw the worst night of your life in your face when he was the person you’d been cheating with was just sickening. You’d never cheat again - you’d regretted your actions for years afterwards, only recently finding the ability to forgive yourself.
How dare he use it against you?
Instinct told you to scream at him, to yell and tell him that you were done, ordering him out of the trailer immediately. But logic reminded you that you’d regret that decision the moment the door closed behind him, because despite this current bump, your relationship with Sukuna had been filled with a happiness your life had been lacking for years, and you weren’t going to throw it away over a heat of the moment utterance driven by jealousy.
Neither logic nor instinct had full control of your actions in that moment anyway, because before you could say anything you burst into tears, leaving Sukuna all wide-eyed and panicked as he stared down at you. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, and rather than saying anything you drew your knees up to your chest, curling in on yourself as if it would make the whole situation go away.
You’d caused this by virtue of ignoring him. If you’d just told him the actual issue rather than giving him the silent treatment, he wouldn’t be saying any of these things.
“I’d never do what I did to Ryu to anyone else. Never again. Especially not to y-you,” you mumbled into your arms, obscuring your face from his view. “I can’t believe you think I would.”
Sukuna was silent for a few moments, before you heard the sound of shuffling and the warmth of a hand atop your head, stroking your hair gently. You wondered if you should push him away, perhaps remind him that he was the source of your tears, but the touch felt so comforting and familiar that you found yourself leaning into it instead.
The lack of resistance seemed to embolden him, and he crouched down before you, muscular arms circling around your hunched form, drawing you close against his chest. “Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair. “I didn’t mean that. When you wouldn’t talk to me I started jumping to all these conclusions- fuck- I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you, Sukuna. I was avoiding you because I had an actual problem I was scared to approach and you instantly took it as me cheating.”
Your words were harsh, but you made no effort to withdraw, sinking deeper into the warmth of his arms, letting your tears wet his hoodie.
“I know, I’m the worst. I’m sorry baby.” For a few moments you were both silent, allowing his apology to sink in, the sheer panic in his voice winning you over at the realisation that he was genuinely upset at himself for making the accusation. His hands moved to dry your tears, and you let him do that too, because despite it all you loved him and his touch.
Was it really the worst thing to know that he was into you to the point of desperate jealousy? It was a sure sign that he’d never seek out someone else like Ryu and Kashimo had, proof that his loyalty to you was something insurmountable.
But that still didn’t mean you were thrilled with him for this little display of jealousy.
And you were still yet to address the elephant in the room.
“The reason I haven’t been talking to you is because of what you did on Saturday night. It's got nothing to do with Hiromi,” you said, surprised at the way the words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them.
You felt him tense up, his hands ceasing their comforting movements.
“Huh?”
Slowly you drew back, untangling yourself from his grip to allow you to look at him properly. The anger had largely dissipated from his face, clearly put at ease by your reaction to his cheating accusation, replaced by open curiosity. It was strange to you that he didn’t immediately jump to an apology, or at the very least, have realisation dawn on his face at just what you were alluding to.
“Saturday.” You repeated yourself. “You broke into my room in the middle of the night?”
Still he was staring at you blankly, as though he wasn’t capable of understanding what point you were attempting to make. “Yeah?” He ventured, when you failed to continue. “We had great sex and then I left. Are you mad I didn’t stay? I figured you wouldn’t want me there in the morning with your parents around.”
You genuinely weren’t sure what to say.
“Sukuna, I’m mad because you broke into my house.”
“Oh.” He blinked a couple of times, “but why? You seemed to like it at the time.”
“I-” Once again you found yourself lost for words, scrambling to explain to him how conflicted you were on the whole matter, because you really had liked it, he wasn’t wrong, you just didn’t want to encourage his behaviour to that extent, and certainly didn’t want him crossing even further boundaries. “I like this- us. I like being with you, it's just…that was too much, okay?”
He tilted his head a little, and your heart fluttered at the questioning expression on his pretty face. The sight was almost enough for you to forget how angry he’d been when he’d entered your office just moments ago.
“The break-in, or the sex?”
“I don’t know, both in combination, I guess? I mean, it's fine to wake me up like that at your place when we’ve been sleeping in the same bed, but I was genuinely scared, Sukuna. You could’ve been anyone. Before I knew it was you I thought I was gonna be…you know…”
Sukuna hummed, carefully wringing his fingers together. “I’m sorry, it was probably too far,” he said carefully. “I thought, with all the weird shit we’d been doing lately, that you’d be into it too. You should’ve told me at the time, I would’ve listened.”
Flushing, you recalled that you’d made very little effort to stop Sukuna from sinking into you that evening, mainly because once you’d known it was him, you’d been filled with a sick sense of lust obtained only when preceded by real danger. You hadn’t been thinking clearly enough at the time to prevent anything, it was only when you awoke the next morning that you considered how fucked up the situation really was.
“It's fine, just- please don’t break into my house again?”
“Promise.” He responded quickly, fingers reaching out to stroke your face. The thought that Yuki might be somewhat right about Sukuna fled your mind at the gentle touch, paired with the adoring look in his crimson eyes. Because even if what he’d done was batshit crazy, you were aware that it all came from a place of love, a desire to be with you and please you at all moments.
He leant in to kiss you, breath warm against your lips. You pushed him back slightly before he could do so, aware that there was one other thing you wanted to address before giving into his affections once more.
“Also the jealousy from earlier. Don’t do that shit again. I’d never cheat on you, never, don’t ever imply that I would. Do it again and I’ll leave, swear to god.” You tried to keep your voice even so that the threat was believable, but a tremor found its way into your tone regardless.
You weren’t sure that was a promise you could keep, but you still wanted to dissuade him from ever doing it again. Even if he knew the threat to be false, at the very least it might make him think twice next time.You didn’t want Sukuna to make a habit out of yelling at you. You’d actually rather him break in through your window again over accusing you of cheating.
“I won’t.” He put his hands up defensively.
“Promise me. No alpha bullshit around other men either, I’m loyal to you so there’s no need to be possessive or snappy just because some guy spoke to me.”
There was a wavering look in Sukuna’s eyes, something that you didn’t quite like, but it disappeared quickly. “I promise.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
The two of you remained in silence for a moment, almost as if assessing the other. You peered up at him from your position on the chair, waiting patiently to see what he’d do next, whether he’d sweep the matter under the rug and kiss you, or if he’d continue with further explanation. Equally, he seemed to be waiting for you to do something, looking down at you almost guiltily, like some scolded dog.
He gave into the pressure first, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his pink locks.
“I don’t mean to be jealous, y’know? I just-” he shrugged, chewing on his lip. “I just love you so much that sometimes it makes me kinda crazy. I start getting in my head that you don’t feel the same, doing stupid shit like climbing the drainpipe outside your window just so I could see you.”
His admission of love rattled around in your head, wiping clean the worries sitting in your mind. He hadn’t said that aloud to you before, despite alluding to it on more than one occasion. He didn’t even seem to realise he’d said it, still rambling on about how much your presence would set his mind ablaze with desire.
“I love you too,” you said easily, cutting him off. He locked comically shocked, mouth falling open dumbly, like his brain had short-circuited at your admission. You gave him no time to think of a response, your expression stern. “So stop acting kind of crazy, please, because I’m already so into you that you’re literally just wasting your own time.”
Eyelashes fluttering, Sukuna’s mouth turned up into a grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, assuming that you’ve listened to everything I’ve just told you about how to keep me in love with you.” His expression was genuinely dreamy, a look of pure, unbridled pleasure brought on by words alone.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand, as if he’d thoroughly put all of those matters behind him in light of this new revelation. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.” This time he crashed his lips against yours without anything stopping him, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you up onto your feet, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
You realised that you’d missed the familiar brush of his tongue against yours, even if the absence had only been for a handful of days. You’d become so accustomed to spending all your time with him that mere hours apart had you overcome with longing. It was like his hands were meant to be on your skin, built solely for you.
“Stay at my place tonight,” he murmured as he pulled back, “I’ve missed having you in my bed.”
“Sure, no sex though.”
Sukuna frowned. “Why? Period? You know that shit doesn’t bother me.” That was true, Sukuna had gone as far as to eat you out on your last period, the lewd sight of his face covered in your blood seared into your mind. You were certain that no previous boyfriend of yours would’ve ever done such a thing, and certainly not with the enthusiasm that Sukuna had displayed.
But your period wasn’t the problem.
“Misplaced my birth control somewhere,” you said with a shrug. You couldn’t figure out where or when you must’ve lost them - they were usually in your backpack to ensure you had them wherever you’d be staying for the night, but when you’d gone to take one a few days back you hadn’t been able to locate the little box.
The chemist had been all out of stock of your usual brand when you’d gone to pick up some more, so you wouldn’t have your new supply until the following morning. In the meantime it probably wasn’t clever to have sex with Sukuna. It was part of why you’d been so mad about the break-in situation, because when you’d awoken the next morning it had dawned on you that you hadn’t taken your pills in a couple of days.
Hurriedly getting hold of Plan B on a Sunday morning had not been your ideal use of time, especially when you’d been forced to make some stupid excuse up to your parents as to why you couldn’t go out to breakfast with the Higuruma’s.
Either way, it wasn’t fair to blame Sukuna for that. It wasn’t like he had any way of knowing that you hadn’t been taking them as usual.
“I can get you the morning after pill and we can still have sex?” Sukuna offered, nuzzling his nose against yours affectionately, hands sliding to rest on your hips.
Wrinkling your nose in distaste, you shook your head. Plan B was supposed to be an emergency solution, and you weren’t keen on using it twice in one week. “We can use a condom?” It was his turn to scrunch up his nose, for he was a man with great distaste for such things, but he relented regardless.
“If it means I can touch you still, then sure.”
Pushing up onto your tiptoes, you kissed him again, letting yourself sink against his warmth. You were glad that you’d been able to air things out for him, proud to be able to stand your ground. You cared about Sukuna and were eager to avoid silly things getting in the way all because you didn’t have the courage to voice your wants and needs. Communication was the key to a healthy relationship after all.
Sukuna lifted you briefly before depositing you down atop the desk, putting the two of you at a better angle for kissing. He was tilting your face up softly with one hand, the other curled possessively around your waist. Your fingers clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his hoodie each time he nipped playfully at your soft lips.
If your time together that day hadn’t been so fraught, perhaps you would’ve been more on guard about not making out during lunch time. It was one thing to kiss or fuck in the office when you were certain that your father wasn’t around - there were plenty of evenings that you’d let Sukuna take you over the desk, only doing so because the risk was low enough for you to accept it.
But that day, your dad was very much on site, and you knew it.
So you really shouldn’t have been surprised when the door creaked open, leaving you and Sukuna breaking apart swiftly, but not swift enough to evade the sharp eyes of your dad standing at the trailer’s entrance.
Hopping down from the desk, you straightened out your clothes, finding no words to talk yourself out of this one. Sukuna didn’t seem to share your concern, standing in the relaxed way that he always would, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. He seemed to be assessing your dad quietly, unwilling to cower in embarrassment - he felt no shame about his love for you and wasn't willing to act like he did.
“Hey- uh- Sukuna was just leaving.” Humiliation bubbled within you at the way both men looked at you like your words were the most foolish thing you could’ve possibly said. But there was understanding in Sukuna’s gaze, and he reached out to squeeze your hand before leaving.
“I’ll drive you to my place later, so let me know when you're finishing up.” Your father seemed even less amused hearing that statement, but you supposed it didn’t matter. He’d seen what he’d seen, the cat was out of the bag, why should Sukuna strive to hide anything anymore? He gave your father an easy nod as he brushed past him, a confidence that seemed to immediately grate upon your dad’s nerves.
The man stayed silent as the door creaked shut behind Sukuna, his gaze turning to you, demanding an explanation. You played awkwardly with your hands, not quite sure what you were supposed to say.
“So you’re not dating, huh?” He asked finally, recalling the conversation you’d had with him several weeks ago when he’d implored you not to pursue the man.
“Things changed?” You offered with a wince.
“Right.”
The silence stretched out between the two of you, and you found yourself sitting back down on your chair, wondering if you should just get back to work immediately and pretend nothing had happened. You weren’t exactly keen on facing a second lecture if you could possibly avoid it.
It wasn’t like your father’s feelings on Sukuna would dissuade you from being with him anyway, so it saved you both time to skip out the droning and warnings.
“Figured you’d been dating someone, I was just hoping it wasn’t him. Your mother really thought you and Hiromi might hit it off, you know? She's not going to like Sukuna.”
You were already aware of that. Your mom was the type of woman averse to anyone having any sort of tattoo, which meant the lines engraved upon Sukuna’s face would no doubt send her spiraling.
“I know, but I like him.” You shrugged. “Isn’t that all that matters?”
Your father sighed, lumbering over to the desk. “He unsettles some of the guys, you know. Beat another worker half to death in some silly dispute they had before you were around. What will you do if he turns that sort of rage towards you?”
“He wouldn’t.” Your voice was certain, eager to come to your boyfriend’s defence. You knew that he was rough around the edges and no stranger to a fight, but you were also certain that he would never raise a harmful hand to you without your consent. If anything, it was comforting to know that he was tough in a fight, it meant he could protect you and himself.
Biting his lip, your dad nodded with the resignation of someone who didn’t want to argue with a brick wall. “Look, you’re a big girl. You can date who you like, I’ve said my piece on it already. Just don’t come crying to me if it all falls apart.”
“I won’t,” you said defensively. You truly didn’t think the relationship with Sukuna would fall apart, but even if it did you would absolutely not be going around telling the truth of the matter to everyone who wanted nothing more than to say ‘I told you so’.
“Don’t bring him around the house either. It's best not to upset your mother.” Shame coiled within you because Sukuna had already very much been in your house, and had done the exact things your father likely didn’t want happening beneath his roof. You’d keep that to yourself and hope to god that Hiromi hadn’t snitched about the sounds he’d heard that night.
“I won’t. We only ever stay at his place.”
“None of this at work either.” He added, “I don’t wanna see it, I don’t even really wanna know about it. You wanna make out with him, you can do it in your own free time, somewhere far away from here.”
“I get it,” you snapped. “Are you done? I’ve got work to do.”
“Yeah, you sure seemed busy when I came in. It definitely looked like he was just leaving.” The man rolled his eyes, putting the last two words in air quotes. You bit down on your lip, trying not to let anger bubble up within you.
You could never understand why your parents weren’t capable of just accepting your happiness. You were clever enough to make your own choices without them weighing in on everything, and it wasn’t like your father knew Sukuna like you did.
Very few people were privy to the side of him that he’d show to you.
Realising that your father wasn’t quite ready to let things go just yet, you decided to give in. “Okay, if you want to talk about it, let's talk about it. What happens when we don’t break up and I decide I want to marry him or something? What happens if I have his kid, hypothetically? You gonna tell me to keep him away from the house then? Ignore your grandchildren?”
“I really don’t think it’ll come to that, sweetheart. I think you’ll realise what a grave mistake you’re making before then.” His voice was surprisingly calm, affection for you still glimmering in his eyes even as he put down the one you loved. He didn’t see his words as an insult, he saw them as sage advice directed towards someone he loved to keep you from making a grave mistake.
“And if I don’t?” You pushed.
“Then what I’ve said still applies, I suppose. Until you do realise.”
He looked sad, reaching over the desk and clamping a gentle hand on your shoulder. At no point did he suggest that you were unwelcome at home, or that they’d turn their backs on you should you stay with someone he had great distaste for. But he was making it abundantly clear that Sukuna would never be welcome.
Well, fuck him.
What the hell did he know? You were happy and Sukuna was good, and you weren’t going to throw it away just because your parents didn’t like him.
What a waste that would be.
—
Sukuna had decided not to kill Hiromi.
For once in his life, he figured it was best to let things go. There were a couple of things driving his decision - part of that was the difficulty in getting rid of the man without being caught. The guy was a big-shot lawyer from a rich family which meant the investigation into any death or disappearance would be crazy.
So on that front alone, it was already unwise to act.
That, of course, had never really stopped him before, which was where the secondary and more pressing reason came into play: you had asked him to stop his general craziness and accept that you loved him.
And honestly? You were right.
Why would he waste time chasing some childhood friend of yours who you’d plainly shown disinterest in? That was time that he could spend with you, showing you just how much he appreciated you, how much he loved you. Hiromi was no one, just some guy your family knew who meant very little to you in reality.
Sukuna meant everything to you, and as long as that rang true, he didn’t need to worry about a thing.
He’d promised you he’d be better, and he really wanted to try. Because he’d do anything for you. Sure, if someone posed a genuine threat he would be forced to do something - he would never be the type of guy who would sit idle and allow you to be swept out from under him, but he would stop taking issue with the smallest things.
He’d control his jealousy, at least as much as he could. Like you’d said, what was there to be jealous about when you’d made it clear you were hopelessly devoted to him?
On top of that, he’d taken everything else you’d said seriously too.
He wouldn’t be breaking into your house again, as much as he’d longed to. There was no room for error now, he didn’t want to create distance between you for foolish things like that. You were in his arms willingly right now and he wanted things to stay that way - any amount of breaking in or stalking could cause issues for him.
So for now, he was trying. Trying to be calmer. Trying to trust you.
You were his, you’d said it yourself. He didn’t need to stress.
Several weeks passed by without issue, and once again Sukuna found himself in a pattern of domestic bliss. You’d practically moved into his apartment, spending far more nights there than at your own home. He’d been irritated to find out that he was unwelcome in your house, comforting you as you’d ranted and cried about your father’s displeasure in your choice of partner.
But at the same time, he didn’t have it in him to claim he was surprised. He’d seen the way your father had been looking at him ever since the two of you had started to grow close. The man saw him as a threat - the type of person who would steal his precious daughter away forever and keep her from the control that had been exerted over her for a lifetime.
It didn’t matter. You’d made it clear that you were happy with Sukuna and were largely uninterested in your parents' approval, and if that was enough for you, then it was enough for him too. Fuck them, they’d been pushed to the back of his mind where he could easily ignore their existence all together.
Why bother being down when you were so soft and happy in his arms? When each night was spent cooking together, watching some crappy movie with his arms circled around you, before falling into bed, limbs tangled so intimately? He had no room in his life for strife or annoyance, not when he had his goddess curled up in his lap at all times.
Of course, there had been certain bumps over the weeks. Your father had attempted to find ways to fire him, but he was part of a strong union who were united in keeping his job secure. Likewise, he’d run into a few issues with Yuki. She’d gotten better at playing nice in front of you, which meant he’d been seeing the woman more often than he’d have liked, and that meant enduring her constant scrutiny, which he could live without.
But outside of all that, nothing could truly knock him off cloud nine, not when you were always staring up at him like he’d hung the stars, clinging to him so sweetly, as if you could no longer think of a life without him at your side.
It was a warm sunny weekend when things were really tested.
You and Sukuna had piled into the back of Satoru’s seven-seater, taking up the two extra seats positioned right at the back. Satoru and his friend Suguru were up front, with Yuki, Choso and Shoko in the centre. You were heading up to Satoru’s family lake house, an hour north of town, with plans of having a nice chilled out weekend as a group.
There wasn’t much space for you and Sukuna in the car, leaving you all pressed up against each other, but he certainly didn’t mind. If anything, he’d chosen this fate because of the cozy situation it would leave you in - his thigh pressing up against yours, fingers dancing along the bare skin of your legs revealed by the cutesy miniskirt you’d decided on that morning.
There’d been a jovial atmosphere on the way, terrible music interspersed by chatting and arguments. Neither of you could hear much from your position in the back, words echoing towards you as nothing more than noise, and for the most part the two of you were forgotten, left to your own quiet conversation. Although, Sukuna had little to say, instead allowing his hand to crawl up your leg once he was certain the others were distracted, subtly tracing the outline of our panties.
You'd squirmed and shot him a look, but the longing in your eyes didn’t go amiss, serving to embolden him as he slipped a hand beneath the fabric, fingers making contact with your wet folds. He’d grinned at the sight of your thighs squeezing together, your eyes widening, watching the others carefully, clearly fearful that Satoru might catch you in the rearview mirror.
Sukuna knew that his friend wasn’t eagle-eyed enough for such a thing, but he leant closer to you all the same, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear. “I’ll stop if you want me to. Although I get the sense that isn’t what you want.” He watched you bite down on your lip at the sensation of his finger easing into you, your body freezing up at his side.
“Don’t stop,” you mumbled under your breath, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. His grin widened, and he settled back in the seat beside you, keeping his gaze forward to avoid the arousal of any suspicion. All the same, his hand remained beneath your skirt, fingers deftly exploring you. He watched you from the corner of his eyes, finding great enjoyment in the way you wriggled, doing your utmost best to keep a straight face.
It hadn’t taken him long to make you cum.
To be honest, he was certain that you’d found release even quicker than usual. Perhaps it was the lewd idea of doing this with an audience so nearby, right on the precipice of being discovered. It was amusing to him that something like this was acceptable to you, hot even, while his break-in had been the cause of strife between the two of you.
Sometimes he found it hard to understand where your lines were drawn.
But he’d found that as long as he asked before acting, he couldn’t really go wrong. If he felt even a hint of uncertainty on your feelings towards a matter, he would hesitate and seek explicit consent first. He didn’t want to fuck things up with you, not when he’d come this far. Two murders were not insignificant, and they’d be for nothing if you decided to leave him because you didn’t like how he was acting.
And in that situation he’d be forced to bring you to his side against your will and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t yearn to break you, he wanted you at his side willingly, wanted you happy of your own volition.
But he’d do it if he had to.
Pulling his fingers from you, grinning at the way your chest was heaving, he subtly licked your juices from his skin. You shot him another incredulous look, and there was a part of him that wanted to urge you to reach out and slide your hand into his cargos and jerk him off, but before he could voice the desire against your ear, Satoru pulled into a gas station.
“Okay, we’re about ten minutes away! I need to fill up, but I’d suggest you guys go in and grab some snacks for the afternoon and then a few of us can walk into town later in the evening to get the meat for the barbeque.”
Everyone jumped out of the car, with you and Sukuna shimmying past the seat that Yuki had moved forward for the two of you to clamber over. She let you pass with little issue, even going so far as to grab your arm to stabilise you as you leapt down. To Sukuna she gave a disapproving look, and even moved to shove the chair back into his path before he could escape, only ceasing her actions at the realisation you were watching her.
Sukuna wondered if you’d told Yuki about the night he’d snuck into your house, or about his jealous outburst that followed. He assumed not, considering that her disdain for him seemed to always remain at a consistent level. If she’d known about that he had no doubt that she’d be treating him with a great deal more vitriol.
It pleased him that you didn’t seem to trust her enough to confide about Sukuna’s doings anymore - that made things easier for him. He got the sense that lately you’d been turning to Shoko to discuss things on your mind, and that was largely unproblematic from his point of view, because she wasn’t a meddler.
The less Yuki knew, the better.
The group made their way into the shop, picking through aisles of candy and various other junk food. The store was a little odd for most gas stations, because it seemed to stock a little bit of everything. There was a fair portion of it dedicated to stocking various fishing gear on account of the many lakes in the surrounding forest, along with random articles of clothing, a basket full of halloween masks and goods despite the season, and a whole rack of guns.
It wasn’t the most calming location, and the man at the counter was also highly unsettling.
You’d gone up to pay for a spread of sweets to keep you occupied throughout the afternoon, and Sukuna found himself wishing that he’d left you outside with the car. The man ringing up your goods seemed to be a little older than you, with long blue hair and nasty scars running across his pale skin.
His eyes were mismatched and he smiled in a way that seemed unnatural. Sukuna noticed the way the man seemed to leer at you as you leant over to fumble for cash in your purse, his eyes going straight to your breasts. Sukuna considered going for one of the guns on display and putting a bullet right through the guy’s skull, but considering the rack was likely locked and the guns were likely unloaded, that would be a foolish decision.
Not to mention, you wouldn’t like that.
“You new in town, sweetheart?” He asked, as he started bagging up your stuff.
Sukuna caught the flicker of anxiousness in your eyes at the question, your tone a little nervous as you responded non-commitally. “Just visiting.”
“Oh yeah, where are you guys staying? Me and some friends can hook you up for a good time if you’re interested? Pretty girl like you probably likes to smoke, right?” Again, there was a panicked glimmer in your eyes, and you looked to Sukuna for help.
“None of your fuckin’ business.” Sukuna spat, his gaze even as he stared down at the man. For the first time, the cashier seemed to acknowledge him, appraising him with those cold, mismatched eyes. Sukuna couldn’t quite tell what conclusion he came to, but he was quick to raise his hands defensively.
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it! Just offering to help if you guys were looking for drugs. Lots of groups like yours pass through and look to buy, can you blame a guy for drumming up business?”
Sukuna said nothing, staring him down for a few more seconds before reaching out and taking your hand. You barely managed to grip the handle of your plastic bag before Sukuna was dragging you from the store and back to the relative safety of the car.
Part of him was bracing himself to face your ire, unsure if his actions would count as excessive jealousy in your eyes, but as you settled back down in the back seats, you let out a shuddering breath, a shiver running through you from head to toe. “Thanks, there was something off about that guy.”
“No kidding.” He huffed. “Hate to think how he would’ve been if you were just here in a group of girls.” He hated how often he felt terrified of fates that could befall you in public, more than aware of how terrible men could be. The thought that you could one day disappear because some freak at a gas station liked the look of you made him sick.
You hummed thoughtfully, before offering him a smile, as if shaking off the weirdness of the interaction. “Well, I’m sure Yuki would’ve scared him off somehow.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” As much as he hated her, he did hold a begrudging respect for the woman. He was certain she could hold her own, and to some extent it calmed him to know that she could protect you in his stead.
With everyone back in their seats, and the car piled high with junk food, you set off once more in high spirits, winding up secluded forest roads until the lake and Satoru’s fancy holiday home emerged into view.
It was a lovely wooden lodge built right on the waterside. It had a dock with a couple of row boats moored up, an electric gate across the driveway, and a massive garden that seemed to be perfectly groomed - no doubt by a groundskeeper that Satoru’s family could afford because they were simply that rich.
Sukuna had always found it hard to comprehend his friend’s wealth throughout childhood - growing up in the conditions he had made it unthinkable for him that one family could have so much. He was lucky if his parents bought him new shoes when his were falling apart, meanwhile Satoru would always have a closet filled to the brim with sneakers he’d never wear.
There was a lovely time during their teenage years when Satoru and Sukuna had been relatively close in size, allowing them to share clothes with one another. For a few months, Sukuna had felt good about himself, wearing things that actually looked and smelled nice, completely absent of holes.
His parents had never cared about him enough to consider the impact that being so poor had on his life back then. When you get a reputation it's hard to shake it off, because kids are cruel. Much of Sukuna’s toughness, his scrappy strength in a fight, was born out of necessity - a defence mechanism to deal with anyone who would sneer down at him because his clothes were old and fit poorly.
He’d make sure that the children he’d have with you would never be left wanting. He’d give you and them the life of luxury you deserved. If there was one thing he’d learnt from his shitty parents, it was how he wouldn’t be.
“So pretty!” You exclaimed, staring out of the window in awe while Satoru parked up. “It's so quiet out here, I bet there’s no one for miles!”
“There’s a few houses half a mile down the road,” Satoru called out, glancing at you in the rearview mirror, “but no one should be bothering us. The nearest town is about a mile away, it's a nice walk along the riverfront and through the forest.”
The group unpacked the car and allowed Satoru to give a tour around the house. The place was like a maze, with four stories, ten bedrooms, three living rooms, two kitchens, a cinema room and a home gym in the basement. It was far more impressive than Satoru’s family home, which his father had apparently purchased when they’d been less wealthy.
Allegedly, most of his dad’s time was now spent in a penthouse they owned in the city, and he mainly kept the house in town for sentimental value. Sukuna imagined that Satoru had begged his father not to sell it out of fear of losing the bedroom he’d grown up in. Satoru was a big baby when it came to things like that, hence the fact he was still living in said bedroom, despite having more than enough money to get his own place.
Satoru led the two of you to one of the bigger bedrooms, where you dropped your bags and got changed for an afternoon out on the deck. You were wearing a skimpy red bikini, which Sukuna was eager to tear from your body the moment you changed into it. You were so gorgeous, the swimwear accentuating the curves of your form perfectly.
He didn’t love the idea of the others seeing you like that, but once more he fought to quell the jealousy rising up within him. You were only interested in him, you loved him, if the others saw you like that and thought you looked hot, he should be smug rather than angry, because you were all his.
Besides, before leaving the bedroom he kissed you hard enough to remind you exactly who you belonged to, ensuring that your mind would be fixed solely on him and what he’d do to you once you were alone together later that evening.
Heading out, the group spent the afternoon in total harmony. Even Yuki seemed to lighten up despite Sukuna’s presence, giggling away as she leapt in the lake. Sukuna felt at ease with you there by his side, a big smile on your face as he dunked you beneath the water, complaining playfully as you splashed him back. Satoru located an inflatable ball in some closet, leading to a drawn out game of knocking that about between each other until the sun began to dip beneath the trees and everyone came to realise how cold the water was.
Once you’d all emerged, wrapped up in fluffy towels and laying out on the deck chairs, someone had suggested a quick game of truth and dare while everyone was drying - a fun way to pass the time before the boys went out to grab meat for the barbeque.
You’d protested weakly with a groan, pointing out that you hadn’t played a game like that since you were in high school, claiming it to be a bit childish. But the inebriated giggles and pleading coming from both Satoru and Shoko had ultimately drawn you and everyone else into their nostalgic game.
It had started off simple. Stupid truths like who did you like in high school? And which teacher was the hottest? Sukuna had been asked the high school crush one, wrapping his arm around you easily to a chorus of fake vomiting because his response was too corny for them to take seriously.
Even if none of them doubted the truth of his answer.
The dares were equally juvenile, telling each other to jump back in the lake now that darkness had descended, or ordering someone to streak across the deck naked. Satoru did the latter with little care for his own dignity, boasting with pride at his willingness to do whatever he was told to.
At one point though, Satoru was dared by Suguru to kiss one of the girls. His blue-eyed friend had looked first to you, pink tongue darting out and wetting his lips as he made a move in your direction. The look that Sukuna gave him clearly had him rethinking that decision, sending him slinking back swiftly beneath that crimson glare.
It seemed that was his limit - unwilling to risk life and limb for a dare.
He of all people knew Sukuna well enough to know that his head would’ve been removed from his shoulders had he made a move on you. Instead, he offered Shoko an awkward peck on the lips, laughing away like he hadn’t felt the weight of Sukuna’s hatred in that moment.
Everyone had, and he knew it by the way that Yuki scowled at him. No more physical dares were sent your way, Sukuna’s protectiveness of you rolling off him in waves. He didn’t care what they thought, didn’t care if you thought him to be jealous - he wouldn’t let someone else touch you even for a stupid game.
That was where he drew the line.
If you noticed, or took issue with it, you said nothing.
The game continued on with little else really of note, with the exception of when the turn came to you and you meekly uttered out “Truth.” It was clear that you were tired, leaning your head against Sukuna’s shoulder, sleepy from an afternoon moving about in the water and only partaking in the game at the behest of the others.
As such you hadn’t answered dare once, unwilling to move from your comfortable position, and that made Sukuna happy. He didn’t want the loss of your weight or warmth against him.
In a way, he even liked this game for the fact that it allowed him to learn certain truths about you that he hadn’t heard before. There was nothing really new or particularly important, but he enjoyed the insight into certain tidbits from your past, understanding how you’d felt in certain stages in life which he hadn’t been privy to.
Satoru was the one to ask that final truth, thinking for a few seconds before asking. “How many guys have you slept with?” Sukuna had rolled his eyes at the question, because it was a boring one to ask and offered no further insight into you for anyone. It was obvious that the answer was only three - him, Kashimo and Ryu.
But when you paused before answering, as if tallying up a count in your head, anxiety started to swell in Sukuna’s chest.
“Uh- I think around twenty? There were a lot of one-night stands so I might be counting wrong…”
Satoru whistled - it voiced shock that rippled around the group. Even Shoko and Yuki seemed a little taken aback by the number, although perhaps not to the same extent that the boys were. “Damn, didn’t think you were that type of girl!” Satoru exclaimed.
Neither did Sukuna.
You were fidgeting beside him, glancing up at him quickly before back down at your hands curled in your lap. “I’m not. That first year at university, after Ryu, I fell apart a bit. Tried to drown it in partying and drinking and guys, I guess. It's not a good memory for me, and…” You wavered. “And after I woke up in the bed of one of my professors I realised I needed help. I got therapy and stopped all that, and felt like I was able to be myself again.”
That familiar flicker of jealousy ignited within Sukuna, half-determined to track down each of those men and give them what they deserved for ever touching you, but as you reached out for his hand, giving it a light squeeze, the thought vanished. You were hunched forwards a little, shame present on your angelic features, it was clear that you’d been nervous to share such a thing.
You were afraid of what he’d think of you for it.
Who could blame you for going off the rails during a period where you were at your lowest? He didn’t like the revelation that he was one of twenty guys to have you, but it wasn’t like he could undo the past. He had enough self-awareness to know that he’d indirectly caused the situation by his own hands.
If he hadn't killed Ryu, you wouldn’t have been left in total distress, and then you wouldn’t have been interested in one night stands. So Sukuna was forced to live with the fallout of his own actions.
He still wouldn’t change them.
“Shit, sorry.” Satoru mumbled, clearly feeling like he’d inadvertently dragged the vibes down. You waved him off with a smile and the game moved on, but Sukuna couldn’t focus on what anyone was saying, pulling you closer to his side, letting your trembling body calm a little beneath his grip.
“I’m not mad.” He whispered in your ear, quiet enough to ensure that no one else could hear. “But I wish you’d told me sooner.”
You nodded, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “I should’ve, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. We’re always having such a nice time, and I never want to ruin the mood.” He hummed softly, fingers tracing lightly against your side, making contact with your skin as they slid beneath your crop t-shirt.
“I get it. But I’m glad I know now.”
“I wish I’d been with you that whole time.” Your voice was near imperceptible now, leaving Sukuna straining his ears to hear you. “Some of those guys…uh- I don’t know, I guess some nights I was more drunk than I should’ve been and I couldn’t even remember things the next day. I regret almost all of it. It's so stupid when I could’ve been safe and happy with you.”
He hummed, thinking carefully about his words because the last thing he wanted was to come across as spiteful, even if that was what he felt. Of course you’d been stupid, he’d been waiting for you with open arms for years and you’d been too foolish to realise what was best for you. But right now you needed his comfort and understanding, and he would offer you nothing less.
“At least you’re here now, you made it out before things got any worse, and now you don’t have to be with any guy who isn’t me. And I’ll always keep you safe and happy, I can promise that.”
“And if what happened to Ryu happens to you? If I lose you too?” You mumbled, pressing yourself closer to him, a shiver running through you, betraying what he could only imagine was your greatest fear
“I really don’t think that’s likely, baby,” he mumbled, trying not to dwell on the irony of it all. “You’ve already seen enough suffering for a lifetime.”
—
“We should watch 10 Things I Hate About You, that movie slaps.” Shoko was sorting through the collection of DVDs housed in the TV unit, pulling ones that she liked aside and collecting them into a little pile. The boys had headed into town to collect meat for the barbeque, leaving just the girls in the house. Once you’d all showered and put on some warmer clothes to combat the evening chill, you’d gathered in the largest of the living rooms to watch a movie while you waited for the others to return.
You really hoped they wouldn’t take too long, your stomach was growling and you didn’t want to gorge yourself on more candy - your teeth were starting to hurt from an influx of sugar. Besides, you’d drunk enough wine that you really needed something solid to soak it all up in your stomach.
“I watched it recently,” Yuki said, “How about a horror movie instead?”
“While we’re in a secluded cabin? No way.” You were firm in your position that you wouldn’t be watching some terrifying teen slasher, especially not when Sukuna wasn’t at your side for you to bury your face against when the scary parts came on.
“How about John Tucker Must Die? Oh wait! Ferris Bueller?”
“I love Ferris Bueller, let's watch that!” You exclaimed, much to Yuki’s chagrin. She wasn’t really one for fun teen movies, leaning more towards thrillers and horror whenever she could. You’d always found it ironic how similar her movie taste was to Sukuna’s - not that you’d ever mention such a thing to her, certain that she’d very much not be pleased to hear it.
To some extent, you felt that they could get along great in another life. Unfortunately, it seemed like they were deadset on butting heads in this one.
As the movie started and Shoko turned off the lights, the three of you settled down on the couch together. You were squished in the middle, gripping your wine glass as you got thoroughly engrossed in the scene playing out before you. You couldn’t help but be impressed by the immense size of the TV screen - Satoru’s family really were loaded. He’d said that later he’d put something on in the home cinema, which apparently made for even more impressive viewing.
It had only been a couple of minutes when Yuki called out your name, nudging your arm gently, attracting the attention of both you and Shoko. “You never mentioned that stuff you were talking about earlier - the one night stands.”
“Oh, didn’t I?” You were certain that in your time away you had given them brief updates, mentioning that you’d gone home with guys. At the very least they should’ve been aware that your body count was higher than the three Sukuna had believed it to be. But you supposed you neglected to give the full account, never making things seem as bad as they had been.
And they’d been bad, really fucking bad.
If you could go back now and take that whole year of university back, you would. Sleeping with any of those guys was a mistake.
God, how you wished you’d just been brave and gone to Sukuna from the start. Even with all his flaws, you knew he was the one for you. Sure, he could be a little crazy sometimes, but it was because he loved you unwaveringly, and you loved him in turn. The last few weeks had been pure bliss, bliss that you could’ve been living in for years if you’d just pulled yourself together quicker.
The way you’d self-destructed back then had been idiotic, and borderline dangerous.
You could’ve ended up with any number of STIs, could’ve been tortured and killed by some sadist who saw nothing more than an easy target. You were lucky to have suffered nothing more than a few blacked out nights and memory loss.
It was shame that had kept you from confiding in Sukuna before that game of truth and dare, fear that he might not see you in the same way, viewing you as broken goods. It was a foolish concern, because Sukuna had never done anything but worship the ground that you walked upon - his devotion to you couldn’t be rivaled by anyone.
“No, you didn’t,” Yuki said, finally. “I’m sorry that happened, we should’ve been there for you.”
You shrugged. “It's hard to be there for someone who’s hiding that anything’s wrong.”
“Still,” Shoko cut in, “I’d hope that if you ever found yourself in a spiral again, you’d tell us. We wouldn’t judge you.”
Yuki hesitated before agreeing, a soft guilt flickering in her chestnut eyes. She’d already judged you for your decisions - had been harsh regarding your relationship with Sukuna, when she should’ve approached things in a different way. Not that you really wanted her to feel guilty, you could understand that she was protective of you.
She just wanted to make sure you were safe and happy. Again, she and Sukuna were oddly aligned in their interests.
“You would tell us, wouldn’t you?” Yuki asked. “If you were spiraling?”
Nodding silently, you considered the truth of your response. In reality, it depended what situation you found yourself in - context was important. Just like with your parents, if things went stale with Sukuna, you weren’t sure you could go to Yuki, not without feeling that crushing condescension of a person who had warned you of something you’d chosen to ignore.
That was the worst case scenario though, because if you had it your way, Sukuna would be the man you’d marry. And you had no reason to believe that he wanted anything but that.
“If Sukuna hurt you, you would tell us, right?” She pushed.
She wasn’t slick with her statement, Yuki was intentionally opening a door, trying to feel you out and see if you had something to confess. You felt Shoko shift at your side, her brown eyes fixed on the TV, clearly not eager to be involved with Yuki’s line of questioning.
She’d never voiced any real issue with Sukuna, instead opting to keep the peace and be happy for you. It was why you’d confided in her and not Yuki about Sukuna’s break in and jealousy from a few weeks ago, seeking neutral advice.
Obviously, she’d mentioned that it was a red flag, but allowed you to voice the other side of things - everything that was keeping you tied to him and the promises he’d made to you afterwards. She could understand why you still loved him, why he still deserved a chance, even if she had gently warned you to be firmer on any repeat behaviour.
And you would be.
But if you’d told Yuki anything about what Sukuna had done, she would no doubt have flown into an outrage, heading off on the warpath and demanding you dump him immediately. You wouldn’t have put it past her to confront him herself, which was the last thing you wanted when you were desperately trying to strike harmony between the two of them.
The worst case scenario would be to have to choose between them.
Especially because at this point you would have to choose Sukuna. He had become so integral to your life that you didn’t want to be without him, wished to watch your relationship play out until you were old and grey.
“I would tell you,” you said, careful not to betray falsity in your tone. “But right now things are good, like really, really good.” You smiled at her gently, noticing the way her shoulders slumped in disappointment. You were no stranger to the fact that she was waiting for things to blow up, but she was going to be waiting a hell of a long time.
“Great. That’s just great,” she mumbled, her attention turning back to the movie.
It left a cold feeling in the pit of your stomach, a longing to reach out to your best friend and tell her everything just like you used to. But things weren’t the same now, and there were secrets you had to keep. So you squashed the feeling into a tiny little cube and filed it away somewhere deep within you, turning your attention back to the happenings on the screen.
If you hadn’t been watching the movie, if you’d been doing something else that night, like chatting or playing cards, you wondered if what happened next would’ve gone differently.
To you, it had felt like the distraction of that massive screen and the immersion of the surround sound system had kept the three of you from noticing that something was amiss.
Without the sound of Ferris Bueller, maybe you would’ve heard the shuffling on the patio outside. Without the blinding light burning your retinas in that dark room, maybe you would’ve seen the shadows flickering in the window.
But instead, the three of you were left blissfully oblivious, huddled up on the sofa in your comfy clothes, thinking about nothing more than how deeply excited you were for the boys to return with the food.
A purposeful tap on the window made you all jump, and for a second Yuki got angry, calling out to knock it off, instantly assuming that it was one of the guys messing with you. Most likely she believed it to be Sukuna, since he ranked at the bottom of her likability ranking. But as the three of you turned to the window, you froze at the sight before you.
A man was standing there, hands pressed against the glass. He was wearing a Scream mask, staring straight at you. Movement in the corner of your eye brought your attention to a second man, this one wearing the classic Jason Voorhees mask from Friday the 13th. A scream ripped from your lips as you jumped up in terror, backing towards the door of the living room, eager to retreat further into the safety of the house.
Yuki found her nerve quicker than you or Shoko, standing her ground. “Ha-Ha, very funny guys. We’re hungry, so quit fooling around and get the barbeque started.” Towards the end of her sentence, her voice started to waver, clearly losing confidence in her assertion as her statement was met with no reaction.
There was a moment of silence in which Shoko grabbed your hand, edging you both closer to the door. But before you could truly make a run for it, the man in the Jason mask lunged at the window, crashing through the glass with ease. You let out another scream, legs pushing you forward, only to freeze at the sound of a shout and a gun shot.
The one on the Scream mask had climbed in through the window, following his friend, who was picking himself up off the floor, swiping glass from his jacket. The Scream guy had the gun, holding the pistol down at his side now that he’d employed it to make a point. It seemed like he’d fired it out into the trees, not towards any of you, using it only to prove that he had it.
“Stay still girls, sit back down.” He gestured towards the sofa, and as if in a daze, you all followed his order. Even Yuki, with a defiant expression on her face, had no interest in facing down a gun. “Are your boyfriends here?” He asked.
None of you said anything, peering back at him and shivering desperately.
The guy in the Jason mask stepped forward and grabbed Shoko by the neck, squeezing hard enough to bruise. She yelped, struggling in his grip, her hands coming up to scrape at his hand to no avail.
“When you’re asked something, you answer,” he hissed, facing you and Yuki as he spoke before dropping Shoko back down on the couch, leaving her gasping for breath, purple already blooming across her pale skin. “Now answer his question.”
“No. They’re not here,” you murmured.
“Good, good.” The Scream guy had a surprisingly chipper voice, and he crouched down in front of you at your answer. “Then I guess I’ll take this off. It only really works for the initial scare. I wanna see you properly, not through these stupid eyeholes.”
He pulled the mask from his head, letting it fall to the ground. Your breath hitched fearfully, and you found yourself scrambling back, seeking solace between Yuki and Shoko, hoping that somehow you’d be safe if you just stuck together. The man before you was familiar, with his long, greasy blue hair, his scarred face and mismatched eyes.
The chill that you’d felt encountering him in the gas station had been nothing compared to the sheer terror that you felt now, with him crouched before you, gun in hand, staring you down like you were something to be consumed.
And this time there was no Sukuna to protect you.
It was just you, Yuki and Shoko. And you were certain that these men had known that before making a move on the estate. Perhaps your fate had been decided the moment you stepped into that gas station, eyes following you all afternoon until a window of opportunity arrived.
The other man removed his mask. He looked like an older guy, with his head largely absent of hair save for some unpleasant wisps. He only had one singular red eye, the other obscured by an eye-patch, and his skin was so pale that it took on an almost blueish hue. He was leering down at Shoko, whose breathing had picked up significantly, her hands raising to comfort her aching neck.
“How do you want to do this Mahito?” He asked, looking over to the man crouched before you.
“Mmm, let’s take things slow for now. We got some time so let's have some fun! To be clear, this one’s mine for later though.” His fingers traced against your cheek, a sickening feeling compared to how it felt to have Sukuna’s hands on you. You wanted to throw up, wanted to cut this man’s fingers straight from his hand.
But right now he had a gun, and you had no chance of overpowering him.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Let me grab the bag, we should really tie them up first.” The man headed back out through the broken window, leaving the three of you alone with Mahito. He watched over you vigilantly, gun firm in his grip, almost challenging you to try anything.
You didn’t realise you were crying until his thumb caught your tears, shushing you affectionately, like he was capable of bringing comfort to you. It made your heart seize with thoughts of Sukuna, tears falling more openly as you longed for him, wishing that he was there at your side. He would know what to do, he’d tear Mahito to pieces.
He’d promised to keep you safe.
“There, there.” Mahito hummed. “No need to cry sweetheart, I told you back at the shop, we’re just gonna show you a good time.”
His smile made your stomach lurch.
If there was a god, you prayed he would make Sukuna return swiftly, lead him straight to you and keep you from harm’s way.
Because the last thing you wanted was to find out this man’s definition of a good time.
a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger, I'm very excited to write the next chapter! please make sure you heed the tags at the start of next one because it will contain potentially triggering content
hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for the support! comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! <3
꒰impatient꒱ husband!nanami almost missed his son's birth
꩜ angst to fluff; comfort. art by @/mamitasoa7x0312
Nanami's heart beat louder than it ever had as he drove to you.
Ignoring every traffic light and speed limit. This wasn't like him, but he could feel bad about it later. Right now, there was only thing he had to do – get to you.
As fast as he fucking could.
Were you scared? Were you in pain?
Of course you were in pain.
And he wasn't there.
His foot slammed the accelerator again, the hospital building finally coming into view up ahead.
It wasn't meant to happen this early, he was caught off guard at work – but as soon as your anxious voice reached him from the phone and tried to explain that your water had broke, he left the office without a word. Later he'd notice the missed calls from his boss, but again – he didn't care.
Everything was out the window the minute you needed him.
You were in pain. You were having his baby.
What was supposed to be a joyous moment shared by the two of you, now meant nothing but fear from both sides.
Another traffic light ignored, but it was finally the last one.
The nurse must have thought he was losing his mind when he reached the front desk, giving her your name through ragged breaths. "Mr. Nanami?" she tried to confirm, and he only managed an exhausted nod.
His hair was a mess, tie undone, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. But when the nurse finally showed him the way, Nanami followed close, almost overtaking her as if this was a race.
And finally, the sterile hospital corridor led to a door, and the door led to you.
Looking as sweaty as he was, holding your swollen belly with two hands, face twisting in pain.
But when you saw him, something visibly changed – your breathing hitched, your shoulders dropped, and the pain gave way to a smile. One the two of you desperately needed.
"Ken?" you whispered, tears already slipping through your beautiful cheeks.
"I'm here" he rushed to your side, sitting next to your bed and placing both hands on top of yours. On your stomach, near your son. "I am so sorry, my love" he took one to kiss your knuckles, the other gently rubbing your skin, small circles he hoped might settle the two of you.
"I'm so happy you're here" you cried, interlocking your fingers with his, the golden wedding band glistening in the cold overhead light.
"What did the doctors say? Do you need anything? Water? How bad is the pain? Is he ok?" Nanami wasn't even sure what he was saying, just going through the practicals first. As if you knew it was the only way to help him relax, you let out a soft giggle.
"Everything is fine" you reassured, looking down at your stomach and the person you had been waiting months to meet.
Nanami followed your gaze, taking his eyes from you for the first time. He brought his body forwards a little, leaning over to press a kiss just above your belly button. "Already impatient, just like your mother" he shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax.
"I'm not sure about that" you smiled. "Looks like he was ready and didn't want to do overtime, like someone I know"
Nanami looked up at you then, letting out a small chuckle himself. He pushed up, cupping your cheek gently. "He's perfect" he said, with a kiss to your forehead. "So I'm sure he takes after you"
In your husband's embrace, you finally began to breathe a little easier. The pain was coming and going, getting more intense with every contraction, but Nanami was right there holding your hand, rubbing your back, instructing you through breathing exercises.
His brows furrowed when you groaned, wishing he could take all the pain from you and give to himself. But he didn't let you see him so worried – Nanami was completely focused on you.
"You're doing so well" he kissed your shoulder when it hurt too much. "I love you" he whispered, as you almost broke his hand with how hard you squeezed it.
Nanami didn't care about anything else in the world right now, just his two favourite people. The one in his arms, and the one he was about to meet.
✧ summary choso loves nothing more than waking up right next to his beautiful partner, but something isn’t quite right this morning... could it be you're having a nightmare – about him?!
✧ wc 1.4k
✧ content pure fluff, choso is the king of overthinking, domestic fluff, nightmares, pet names, established relationship
✧ a/n this is a prequel to my fic bad dreams? as requested by anon, really hope you enjoy <33
Your boyfriend Choso Kamo was having a great morning.
The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and he got to wake up next to the most special person in his whole world – you, all snuggled up next to him, hands laying over his bare chest as your head followed the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.
You’re so beautiful, was his first thought every morning. I’m so lucky, was usually the one that followed.
Choso was an early riser, and even if he never planned to do it on purpose, he’d wake up before you every single day, but refuse to move from underneath you until you stirred awake. It was like his internal clock had understood how precious this little pocket of time was, those few minutes where he got to admire your relaxed expression, all cute and wrapped up right where you belonged.
You’d probably blink your eyes at him soon, lips would form a bright smile that would have his cheeks all red, and then he’d give you a morning kiss before offering to make you breakfast.
Any moment now, Choso thought eagerly.
But then… he noticed something.
Today was… different.
You didn’t look as relaxed as usual – there was a little furrow in your brows and a subtle tightness in your jaw. Your hand, usually resting so softly over his heart, was curling into a fist and attempting to hold on to anything it could find. Your thighs were clenching around his thick one that usually slept between your legs, and your pretty lips were curled downwards into a small pout.
“Baby…?” Choso asked, concern beginning to cloud the usual morning joy.
And then a little tear started to slide down, ever so slowly, across your cheek – and his eyes widened like he had just seen a ghost.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
Choso turned his body around so he was towering above you, hands gripping your biceps tight as he shook you gently, wanting to snap you out of whatever nightmare you were having but not startle you too much at the same time.
This was unacceptable, he thought bitterly. He’d fight whatever unconscious force dared rob you of a good nights sleep.
Your eyes began to blink open, finally – you’d look at him soon enough with relief and open that smile he needed so much, you might even praise him for saving you from this nightmare, yes, everything would be fine…
…everything was not fine.
Because your eyes blinked open, yes, and they recognised him, sure, but instead of smiling in gratitude, your pout only deepened, lower lip pushed forward in a way that was adorable but not what Choso wanted at all, especially when it was paired with tears streaking wildly down your face.
“Hey…” he muttered, surprised, brushing your tears away. “It was just a bad dream” he tried to say, though his voice shook a little at the sight of you tearing up like that.
You crossed your arms over his shoulders, pulling your boyfriend down as your body began to readjust to reality. “Shhh, it’s ok, I’m here” he was repeating, holding you steady against him, giving you time to shed the remnants of that nightmare away with little hiccups and sad whimpers.
Choso held you tight, both to steady you and himself, waiting patiently for you to tell him what you needed.
You pulled away eventually, looking up at him with wide, pained eyes. “Morning" your voice said, all raspy like it usually was, but there was still a sad lilt to it that made his chest cave in.
“Morning" he echoed, kissing your cheek softly. “Do you want to tell me?” he asked, brushing your hair away from your face, doing his best to soothe your nervous system.
You bit your lower lip, looking away sheepishly. This was the first hint something was wrong – you knew you could tell him anything, surely?
“Was it bad?” he frowned, caressing your skin in slow, grounding motions, attempting to sound gentle though he was so worried.
You nodded at that, still looking away.
“You were mean to me” you pouted.
Huh?
Time stopped inside your boyfriends head.
“…Me?” was all he managed to say, his soothing caresses stopping, his mouth hanging open in complete surprise.
He was the reason you woke up shaken like this?
How could this be?!
Was there a reason for this? Had he hurt you without meaning to? He had to have done something, right? Was it because he complained about you playing horror games at night? Did it upset you that much? Did you hate him?
You must have noticed your boyfriends brain had blue screened, because you let out a little chuckle, brushing his hair away from his frozen face. “It was just a dream” you reassured both of you. “I'm okay now”
Well, you might have been ok, but Choso clearly wasn't.
“Did I do something?” he frowned. “Did I upset you?”
His hurried words tugged at your heartstrings, making you wish you had never said anything in the first place. “No, baby” you leaned in, kissing his cheek. “It happens sometimes, you know?”
“I never have nightmares about you” he pouted, voice rising an embarrassing octave. “I only have good dreams about us. About that time we went to the movies, and, um– kissing you, or, you know…other stuff”
You laughed at his frantic and, honestly, overblown reaction. “Are you admitting to having wet dreams about me, Cho?” you teased.
“That's not the point” he blushed. “The point is you’re never mean to me”
“You're never mean to me either” you caressed his cheek. “Just dream-you” you added, hoping you two could make a joke out of this and just let it go.
But Choso gritted his teeth.
“What did I do?” he asked solemnly, taking a deep breath as he decided to face whatever image of him your subconscious clearly had.
He needed to know what he was up against.
“We were having a fight” you exhaled, knowing your boyfriend well enough to know he was not letting this go.
“What was it about?” he asked, trying to gather clues into what it was he had done that upset you so much.
“I don’t remember” you shook your head, not wanting to linger on the dream either. “You shouted at me” you explained then.
Choso’s mouth hung open in utter, complete betrayal. The worst kind – betrayed by himself.
“Baby…” he cupped your cheek. “Please forgive me” he pleaded.
“Cho" you laughed, placing both hands over his. “You have nothing to apologise for”
“I clearly did something” he pouted. “Let me make it up to you, please”
“It was just a dream” you gave a peck to his lips, wriggling yourself away from his hold so you could go start your morning.
But it wasn’t just a dream.
No. This was serious.
Choso needed to understand what his mistake was. There was far too much at stake here.
He started paying attention, really paying attention. You grimaced a little when you had a sip of the coffee he made you that morning – was it too hot? Too bitter? Did it burn your tongue and you were trying to hide it so you wouldn’t hurt his feelings? Did you see him as a failure?
You swore you weren’t upset, and he had no reason to think that wasn’t true. You were still your usual kind, cuddly self; giving him little kisses and sitting on his lap while watching TV. But Choso couldn’t stop thinking about it.
So he started overcompensating. Making sure he was the perfect boyfriend, using every tool he had at his disposal. Research, asking for every single one of his brothers opinions, he even started reading Freud – though he’d never tell you about any of that.
But you noticed, of course, Choso wasn’t exactly subtle. And as amusing as it was for the first couple days, you couldn’t bear to have your poor boyfriend spiraling like this.
So that morning, when the two of you woke up, you told a little lie.
“I just had the cutest dream about you” you announced, showering his stunned face with little kisses. “I love you” you completed, because that part was true.
Choso’s dark eyes widened, enjoying your little smile before opening one of his own. His thick arms closed around you, bringing you down to rest where you belonged, hiding his smug expression into your hair.
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꒰shrine꒱ sukuna lost the love of his life
꩜ cw: heavy angst. grief. major character death (reader)
What a fool the King of Curses had become.
Reduced to something he used to mock – a man ruled by emotion, unable to fight back against the way they spilled from his eyes and from the open wounds on his knuckles; a blind rage that had left bloodied dents on the walls.
The walls you had been so adamant on decorating. With ridiculous ideas of portraits and family pictures you'd one day take together. One day. A day that never came.
You humans were fragile things, he knew that.
He knew that.
But how could he have resisted you? When your smile made him believe he had a heart again? When your eyes alone made him want, crave, yearn for something he used to deem so unnecessary?
Sukuna loved you from the moment he first saw you.
And that would be the death of him.
Because you weren't here anymore.
No.
He was alone again.
Alone with the stupid walls in that colour he hated, but you had looked so happy when you chose it. Even more so when he lifted you up on his shoulders so you could reach the ceiling, dragging the colour all over with the large brush as he watched from below, mesmerized by your smile.
You had pouted when you saw the end result of your uneven streaks, but Sukuna told you it was perfect. Of course it was perfect – you had created it.
He still remembered the way you smiled, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to kiss his deformed cheek. No one else had ever been gentle with him like that. Why the fuck would they?
Another punch breaks through the wall, another punch bringing him back to this horrifying reality he can't accept. Was this what he deserved? Were the gods mocking him again?
Whatever crime he was paying for, whatever law of retribution he had triggered, it didn't change the fact you didn't deserve it. Sukuna would have chosen his own demise over yours any day; would have gladly left this world if it meant you could still be here, safe, smiling.
Putting up the pictures you dreamed of. Having the family you deserved.
Sukuna's knees give out before he can throw the next punch, falling to the floor with a loud thud, his vision hazy with so many tears he didn't even know he could shed.
Over the corner of his eye, something catches his attention though. It's in one of the moving boxes you hadn't finished unpacking, now lying half thrown on the ground with it's contents spilled.
But there, he saw it – the smile he loved. The face he needed to see more than anything.
Sukuna crawled to it like a man condemned, shoving everything else out of the way to pick up the picture on the floor. When had you framed this? He couldn't remember, but the memory of it was clear as day in his mind – a day in the park, a polaroid some stranger had taken without permission and dared ask money for. Sukuna already had a scowl on his face, but you convinced him to buy it. You said you loved it.
It showed the two of you in a moment where you thought no one was looking. Just a casual day, leaning on the bridge under the bright sun, his arm around your waist. Your face was turned to him with a beaming smile, and his lips also tugged upwards in a look he only ever shared with you.
Sukuna had thought the man's suggestion so offensive he had barely bothered to look at it. But he was glad you convinced him to buy it.
Sukuna loved it too.
His crimson eyes turned to the walls then, resolute, already looking for a hammer and nail he was sure would be lying around one of the moving boxes. His legs brought him up again, moving to the half destroyed wall with the picture in his hands.
You said you wanted pictures of your family on there.
He could do that for you.
He'd find every picture you ever took and nail it to the walls of the home you were never able to make.
Fuck it, he'd make a whole shrine.
Honour you in any way he could.
this is inspired by something @plaguecxlt told me so you can blame them for it (affectionately ♡) tysm for inspiring me and helping me get out very difficult emotions at the same time ily <3 anyway sorry about this one guys
· pairing ex!gojo x f!reader
· synopsis you and satoru were the perfect couple, save for one little detail – he was moving back home, and taking you with him was not in the plans
· wc 5.5k
· content mdni!, angst, smut, post-break up, hurt, comfort, break up talk, reunion, exes to lovers to whatever this is, anxiety, a lot of crying, arguments, kissing, body worship, piv sex, praise, aftercare, reader wonders about other women, endless toxic cycle, this is really bleak, sad ending
How long had it been again?
Five months? Six?
Six months since the love of your life told you he was leaving. Told you he was moving home in a couple months and that's why he had to end it – not because he didn't love you, but because he loved you too much.
Because spending the remainder of his time here with you would just multiply the pain that came later when he eventually left. Because you had a whole life that you couldn't give up just like that; and he had a name to uphold and a new path to lead, one that was too cold and cruel for him to allow you any part in.
It was his responsability, Satoru had explained.
What a sad excuse that was, you had scoffed then.
Hoping it was all a joke, just some dramatic spell he would come out of eventually – until the day came where he wouldn't answer your calls anymore.
And two months later, you had to find out from Suguru that he really was gone.
Just hopped on a plane and moved away to fulfill the wishes of a family he wasn't even proud of.
Would things have been different if you were born to an important name like him?
What else did you think would happen – dating the heir to the Gojo clan?
It would have been easier if he just told you the past year had been a lie, that he hated you from the start and you were nothing but a pastime for a rich boy like him to enjoy.
But that wasn't what he said.
No, Satoru had looked right into your eyes as you watched the tears spill from his bright blue ones, holding your hands tight as he kept repeating the same thing.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
How many times did he have to say it for you to actually start forgiving him?
Because you didn't. Not really.
It felt like a knife got lodged right into your chest then, and thats exactly how it still felt six months later. Like your skin was trying to heal, growing around this gaping wound that refused to close.
Six months was half a year. Double that and it would be a whole year already.
A whole fucking year.
One you could have been together for.
Six month ago, you wanted to throw all caution to the wind and tell him he better take you with him, or else.
But you knew exactly what would have happened. Satoru would have turned that frown to you again, with so much pity in his aquamarine eyes you wouldn't be able to bear.
He didn't want you to throw your life away for him. You knew that, in his own way, he was doing a kindness to you too by breaking it off.
You had your studies, a whole career you were so proud of… your parents would have scoffed at you at the mere suggestion of throwing it all away for a man. Hell, had it been a friend asking for advice, you would have told them the very same thing.
But you couldn't help yourself.
Everything in you wanted to be with him.
Six months was a long time… had he met someone else already? Was he a step closer to settling down like he was meant to? Furthering the Gojo name he claimed to hate?
Did he look into her eyes and wish it was you?
You dragged a palm over your face, struggling to stop the tears from falling. You hadn't been able to cry lately. Maybe this was all the months of pretending you were fine finally forcing their way out of you.
A buzzing sound came from your nightstand, screen flashing white and dousing the dark room in light before it faded away again. It was probably those stupid dating apps you had finally been convinced to download. Some poor idiot trying to get your attention when you knew well enough you were never replying to any of those texts.
You hated it.
Hated the thought of meeting someone new and having to tell them your whole life again. It felt like a chore, but with Satoru? It all just came out so easily. The worst things you had ever experienced, just falling from your tongue to his waiting ears, and it never felt awkward or daunting or scary.
Satoru was there to catch you when you fell. Always.
If only he had been an asshole like the people you dated before him. No – Satoru had practically ruined you for anyone else.
And you couldn't even hate him for it.
Your hand reached towards your phone before you fully had time to process what you were looking for. Your fingers searched for his contact instinctively, looking for the big capital letters that read DO NOT CONTACT, a stupid measure your friends had taken to keep your heart sane.
Your breath hitched just seeing the last few messages you couldn't bring yourself to respond to.
DO NOT CONTACT: I'm so sorry
DO NOT CONTACT: I'll always love you
DO NOT CONTACT: I'm sorry
DO NOT CONTACT: Just forget about me
DO NOT CONTACT: Please
More tears flowed freely, falling everywhere as you audibly hiccuped, knuckles turning white where they gripped the device. You wished you hadn't been so petty, wished you had tried calling him just one last time and hoped he would have picked up.
Despite every single call from you falling into voice mail.
Satoru had said hearing your voice hurt too much. But not hearing it hurt you just as bad.
How could you escape him when he was everywhere?
It was so wrong that those texts were buried under thousands of happy ones. Of photos you shared. Voice notes you had replayed too many times. How wrong it was that if you ever wanted to go through them again, you'd first have to reread that.
Jut forget about me.
You fucking couldn't.
So your fingers started typing.
y/n: I miss you
And pressed send before you could talk yourself out of it.
You spent a couple seconds watching the too bright screen, already regretting the decision.
But before you could delete the message altogether – something unexpected happened.
Unread turned to read, and three little dots appeared on screen.
It felt like your heart had leaped out of your fucking chest.
In fact, it was beating so fucking fast you feared it might send you into a hospital ward.
You threw your phone over the bed, standing up so you could channel at least some of the nerves into another activity. Like pacing around the room, apparently.
Pacing and watching the screen like you were a predator cornering a prey.
You felt ridiculous.
And maybe he wouldn't even reply. He didn't have to, after all. You didn't expect him to.
But he had seen the message, hadn't he? What had his reaction been?
Had Satoru rolled his blue eyes and was just typing out of pity? Some half-hearted 'hope you're well' that would make you feel even more sick than you already did?
Or had his heart hammered just like yours right now?
Had he–
Ping.
You practically launched yourself across the bed, taking the phone in your hand as fast as you could. Your palms were so sweaty just gripping the stupid thing was a struggle, but your eyes scanned the message with quick, clinical precision.
DO NOT CONTACT: Don't say that
You could almost hear his voice saying it. He had said it enough times that night.
Your fingers started typing again.
y/n: I just want to know how you're doing
Send.
It was a half truth. Your curiosity was killing you, yes, but what you really wanted was for him to admit what a mistake this all wa and tell you he was moving back to town.
Call it wishful thinking. Or desperation, whatever.
You couldn't even spend too long overthinking that message, because another notification sound came not even a minute later.
DO NOT CONTACT: I'm in town
Huh?
What the fuck were you supposed to do with that information?
Did that mean he wanted to see you? Why would he have told you if that wasn't the case?
…And would he never have said anything if you hadn't texted?
That felt like another betrayal to add to the pile.
You wanted to be angry at him, you really fucking did, but when he suggested you meet for coffee, you didn't say no.
You should have said no.
Because nothing could have prepared for the years of torture that would start with coffee.
Of course, there was no way you could have known then.
Hence why you walked into the same coffee shop the two of you had been to so many times, wearing a pretty outfit Satoru used to love when you were together. The same one he had ripped off your body far too many times as his mouth trailed hungry kisses all along your body.
Beautiful memories, now turned sour.
You walked in there like it hadn't been intentional, while still hoping some unconscious part of him would pick up on it.
And Satoru still looked the same.
Somehow, that was even worse.
"Hey" he said, voice small like it had been that day. This wasn't how he was supposed to sound. Satoru was meant to be chirpy and smug and he should have you throwing your head back with laughter already.
You hated this solemn version of him you got since that night. It was like it was an impostor. Someone wrong wearing the love of your life's skin.
"Hi, Satoru" you swallowed, taking the seat in front of him, barely able to look at his face.
"I got you your favourite" he tried to smile, motioning to the warm mug steaming in front of you. "How are you doing? Are you–"
"Why didn't you tell me you were in town?" you interrupted, finally lifting your gaze.
His adams apple bobbed up and down with a thick swallow, clearly not expecting you to be this confrontational from the get go. You hadn't planned it either – but it just came out seeing him like this after so long, knowing he wouldn't have bothered to say anything had you not messaged first.
You probably looked as hurt as you felt, because Satoru could barely bare to look in your face too.
"You know why" he sighed, hanging his head low.
You hated that he was right.
You averted your gaze again, playing with the hem of your shirt as you tried to control your breathing. In and out. In and out. In and–
"Then why are we even here?" you hissed, feeling the shame deep in your core. You were too aware of the other faces in the café, strangers who had no business seeing you get your heart trampled over again.
"Why did you message me?" he challenged.
You scoffed, rubbing your palm under your eye to keep the tears from falling and ruining your pretty make up. The make up you had put on just for him. "You know why" you spat back.
He genuinely didn't seem to know what to say at that.
"Maybe we shouldn't–" you started to say, but your body was already pushing up, yearning to leave this damn crowded café as fast as you fucking could.
The music was too loud. The voices were too loud. Your thoughts were too loud.
"Don't do that" Satoru called after you, following behind. "Please don't cry" he pleaded, but you only kept your eyes forwards, refusing to acknowledge his existence.
Yeah. This had been a mistake.
As soon as the cold air of the outside world hit your skin again, something warm touched your hand. It was a sensation you easily recognised, or, you should say, used to be recognisable.
Your eyes casted downwards to where Satoru had his palm around your one, holding your hand like you had a billion times. You blinked slowly, coming back to reality, finally dragging your eyes up through his forearm, the curve of his bicep, and finally reaching his handsome face.
Destraught was the only word for how he looked.
"Don't cry" he begged you, holding your palm tighter. "Just please don't cry"
As if the words themselves were some sort of magic trick, you only cried harder.
And Satoru didn't even hesitate – pulling you right into his chest, letting your tears soak his shirt as he rubbed up and down your back, hiding his face in your hair.
Seeing him that day made everything exponentially worse.
It was never meant to be like that.
But Satoru didn't let you go – he held on to you while you cried in the middle of the busy street, his own tears streaking down your hair as he just held you. And waited.
Just waited.
Time had stopped for the two of you at that moment – some kindness from above, as you got to inhale the scent of your past lover again. Cinnamon and vanilla. Sweet and warm.
You weren't sure how long you were held in Satoru's embrace like that, but as soon as the rain was gone and so were your tears, he called you a taxi. And with nothing but an evil kiss to your cheek, he let you go.
You really thought this would be it.
All this time had passed and maybe it was better Satoru had never picked up the phone after all. Maybe it had saved you a whole lot of struggle back when this was all still too fresh.
At least now he knew how much he hurt you, you tried to reassure yourself, as if that could make any of this better. Just some odd sense of pride and vengefulness you were embarrassed to admit.
It was finally over.
So imagine your surprise when your phone pinged again.
DO NOT CONTACT: i leave tomorrow but can i see you again?
You typed yes. The idiot you were.
Satoru came over to your house this time, deciding you didn't want to put all that effort into risking another public meltdown. If you were going to talk, let it be somewhere you could actually talk.
The doorbell rang and you rushed to open the door, revealing his tall frame just standing there.
Hands in his pockets. Jaw locked. Looking too tense for how carefree you knew him to be.
"Thank you for saying yes" he muttered, shuffling from side to side a little like he wasn't sure what should come after that.
And you weren't either.
Should you invite him in? Offer a handshake – a hug?
You couldn't really think of anything else you simultaneously wanted and didn't want so bad.
You settled for a nod though, and a small step back to allow him passage. A gesture that only further accentuated the growing distance between the two of you.
Remember when you used to jump on his arms before the door was even fully open?
"It's ok" you muttered, shutting the door and that memory tight behind you. "Do you want some water?"
"Yeah, sure" he smiled kindly. Or tried to. To you, it looked too much like pity.
You hated pity.
"So how's life back home?" you asked, passing him the cold glass and taking a seat on the chair. Not on the sofa, or you would risk him maybe sitting next to you.
But Satoru was still just standing.
"It sucks" he admitted wih a scoff. His nose scrunched a little as he looked away, tentative blue eyes finding yours to try and catch your reaction, despite looking so utterly scared of what you might say.
You could have called him an idiot and told him to come back already. But you didn't.
There was no point.
"Getting ready to take over the company?" you asked, thinking back on the many conversations where that seemed like just a faraway possibility. One he hated then, and seemed to be living up to all expectations now.
"Yeah" he sighed, finally pulling a chair and dragging it in front of yours, lowering himself in front of you with those too long limbs clearly sitting uncomfortably. "It's even more boring than I imagined"
"Poor you" you taunted a little, and it made his head tilt sideways into a little smile.
"Thank you" he agreed solemnly, one hand to his chest in mock sentimentality.
The two of you exchanged a brief laugh, more of a sharp exhale than anything else, but for a moment there, the world had shifted in its axis back to where it was supposed to be.
Just for a moment.
"I'm glad to see you're doing well" Satoru murmured, looking down at his shoes instead of you while he said it.
Did looking in your eyes pain him as much as it did you?
"What makes you think I'm doing well?" you scoffed. No point in sugar coating it, was there?
"I just meant–" he started to say, cutting himself off with a gulp. "I'm sorry, shouldn't have said that"
"It's ok" you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. "It's just been a lot"
"I'm sorry I left" he said. And when your gaze shifted upwards, you were surprised to see those bright blue eyes were looking at you now.
"How many times are you going to say that?" you spat back, with no real bite.
Satoru gulped, thumbs dragging up and down the glass of water just to have something to do. "Until I can forgive myself, I guess" he admittted.
Something in your chest twisted – was it pain? Nostalgia?
Anger?
"You could have just not done it" you shrugged, voice coming out more accusatorily than you meant. "Or just come back"
You felt pathetic just saying it.
But if he'd be gone the next day – why not?
You'd probably never see each other again anyway.
"You know I can't do that" Satoru replied through a tight jaw. "I have work, my family–"
"You hate your family" you argued.
"They're still my family" he sighed.
You hated his goddamn sense of responsability so much, but most of all, you hated that he didn't choose you.
Where was his responsability towards your relationship?
"If you always knew you were leaving" you started, gritting your teeth. "Why did you get involved with me in the first place?"
Satoru's eyes looked so pained it physically hurt.
"Because I loved you" he answered. "From the moment I first saw you"
You stood up abruptly at that, needing to extend the distance between the two of you as fast as you could. "Loved. Right" you hissed, echoing the words that stung so much to hear.
"You know that's not–" Satoru stood up too, searching for you with a raised palm but stopping the motion mid air when you turned with that stern, betrayed look on your face. "I still love you. Is that what you wanted me to say?"
…Was it?
You closed your arms tight around your middle, holding on to yourself because someone fucking had to. "No" you spat. "You have no right to say that, not when you knew how it would end"
Your words were coming out more and more strained, pitch rising higher with the effort of holding back your tears.
Satoru didn't know what to say. Just stood there, uneasy, hands balling into tight fists.
"You're so fucking selfish" you hissed when the first watery streaks started running down your cheeks, voice shaking with anger and venom. Who cares if your words were harsh – wasn't that the truth?
Didn't he choose to play with your heart knowing he would leave?
Satoru inhaled deeply, taking your anger like he agreed he deserved it.And when his voice came again, it was so small you could barely hear it above the sound of your raising heartbeat.
"Do you wish we never happened?" he asked, too quiet for how sharply you had just accused him. The words sore, wounded.
You felt yourself gasp, all the breath getting stuck somewhere in your throat as you turned to him.
No. Of course you fucking didn't.
That year with him was still the best year of your life.
You shook your head from side to side, unable to voice those words. Just a pitiful motion, left to right, right to left, feeling the tears fall harsher, drip down to where your arms were still holding on to your middle tight.
He seemed a little relieved, at the very least.
"Me too" Satoru swallowed, and you noticed there was a shine to his beautiful blue eyes. "I'd never regret us" he rasped out.
It was too much.
Like he knew you were just about on the edge, Satoru rushed forwards, pulling you straight into his arms, and you gladly fell into him. His chest felt so snug against your head, his hands so comfortable where they were stroking your back.
Why couldn't it be like this forever?
With a pitiful fist, you tried to push him away over and over, but Satoru wouldn't let you.
"I can't do this" you cried out, each word punctuated by your hands slamming against his chest weakily, unsure of what you were even trying to do.
"I know" he muttered, voice tight in his throat.
"I hate you" you lied.
"I hate me too" he confessed.
"You can't just–" you sobbed, your hands now fisting his shirt instead. "How dare you–"
"You said it yourself" he let out a bitter laugh, pulling you closer. "I'm really fucking selfish"
You pushed back just enough to look at him, lower lip bobbing pitifully though your face was twisted in anger and hopelessness.
"You are" you hissed. "Really. Fucking. Selfi–"
Your words were interrupted by a pair of lips you had only dreamt of tasting again.
Satoru closed the distance so fast you barely had time to prepare for what was happening, but like your body instictively just knew what to do, you opened your mouth for him. Accepting him, inviting him, even if your brain kept telling you this was a bad idea, your body couldn't lie to Satoru Gojo.
"Selfish. I know" he completed for you, voice vibrating against your lips, but your hands only tangled in his hair, pulling him further in.
Maybe you were selfish too.
Was one last night together worth a lifetime of regret?
"Toru" you mumbled, and his hands tightened around your waist. Hearing the nickname fall from your lips like it used to was clearly overwhelming.
"Yeah?" he asked, bringing a hand to your hair to tilt your head further towards him, and you just let it.
Your chests rose up and down in time with each other where they were connected, the rhythm of your rapid breathing serving to deepen this wet kiss, that was only made wetter by the tears that fell from both your eyes.
"I hate you" you lied again, though your hands kept starting to unbutton his fancy white shirt.
"I love you" he replied, helping you pull the fabric away with haste so he didn't waste any more time in touching your skin again.
His hands were splayed on your waist, thumbs tracing little patterns just under the hem of your shirt as you enjoyed how hot his bare skin felt under your palms.
Satoru was still so beautiful.
Why did he have to still be so beautiful?
You brought your hands down to pull your shirt over your head, and Satoru wasted no time pulling you in closer. He fell to his knees, face eye level with your freshly naked skin, as his mouth started kissing your stomach, hands kneading your breasts like any second not touching you was as good as a death sentence.
You moaned, closing your arms around his head to further pull him in, enjoying how he kissed and sucked and bit into your skin, marking you for the last time.
"Toru" you cried again, lowering your head until your forehead rested on top of his.
And then you just cried harder.
It was a full, body shaking weeping, holding on to his white head tight as you cradled him in your arms.
And Satoru noticed, of course. Stopping his lustful exploration of you to just lock his arms around your back, face buried in your chest as he let his own tears flow with yours.
"I'm so sorry…" he muttered again, breath hot against your bare skin, his tears streaking down your body.
You didn't know if you wanted to slap him or kiss him harder.
Maybe both.
You lowered yourself down as he begrudingly let you, lowering his hands to your lower back as you used his shoulders to stabilise yourself.
It was a shock to see him like this – blue eyes all red, lower lip pushed forward and face wet and puffy. You cupped his handsome cheeks with both your hands, letting out a desperate chuckle at the pathetic position you had put yourselves in.
"Shut up" you muttered, an atttempt at a smile forming in your lips. You brought his face closer to yours, letting your lips touch as you inhaled one another.
This kiss wasn't as desperate or messy this time.
It was warm, lingering, lighting every nerve inside you on fire and making your chest ache for him.
Soon your lips parted fully, tongues meeting in a slow, sensual dance as Satoru began to shift his weight onto you, pushing your body down. You wrapped your hands around his neck, laying down on the floor, both legs tight around his waist.
Satoru hummed into the kiss, kneading the flesh of your tights with both hands, making it so you were squeezing him as hard as you could.
He needed you as close as humanly possible. Hips rolling over and over, while his hands started removing the rest of your clothes.
How could something so obviously wrong feel so right?
You knew this was just another way for your heart to break.
Another memory to cling on to.
A mistake.
But you couldn't stop.
You wanted him, needed him, was willing to throw all sanity out the window just to feel him inside of you one last time.
At least this time you would know it was the last – and could prepare yourself accordingly. Savour it, take in every moment.
But it wasn't the last time.
It wasn't even the second to last.
Three years went by, and you two would always find a way to meet again. You wouldn't speak for months, until one day you would peek at your phone screen, and there it was.
Gojo: I'm in town next week. can I see you?
You always said yes.
You knew you shouldn't.
But you couldn't help it – he was addicting, a drug you couldn't nor wanted to get sober from.
You'd meet in your apartment, always the same place.
Have a little catch up while you both pretended it didn't hurt to hear how life was getting on without each other. He would tell you enough, and you would do just the same, never getting into your failed attempts at moving on, and he never went into the subject of other women either.
But Satoru had left to settle down, hadn't he? Was there another woman waiting for him back home? Did she love him as much as you did, completely oblivious to the tormenting string that connected the two of you? Were you his international mistress?
You didn't want to know. You just wanted him–
And soon enough, your hands would find his, his mouth would find yours, and this vicious cycle would come to a conclusion.
Until a few months later.
Until he was travelling again.
Heated caresses, empty promises and bitter kisses.
When did Satoru start feeling more like a ghost haunting you than the sweet man you so desperately craved?
"Taking me so well" Satoru panted, body caging you in as you so wilfully kept your legs open for him, nails scratching his back like you wanted to leave your mark. "Just like that, pretty, fuck–" he was huffing all beautifully, lewd moans that always had you wondering if this would finally be the last time you heard them.
"Toru" you cried his nickname like you always did, back arching off the bed, inviting him to wrap his arms around you like he always did.
"I love when you say my name like that" he moaned, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you"
He always said it, but you had stopped saying it back years ago.
Not because you didn't mean it – maybe now you meant it more than ever. But because you couldn't allow your mind to go there and give yourself hope.
This wasn't really love.
It was a curse.
The most twisted curse of all – isn't that what he always said?
"I'm gonna–" you tried to say, and Satoru moved his hand to your clit, already knowing what to do. Year after year, he still knew how to operate your body so well. Knew exactly what you liked, how you liked it.
And sure enough, you felt yourself clench around him, body spasming as the start of your orgasm started to wash over you, bringing you to a dimension of pure bliss and euphoria for just a few seconds.
"That's it" he praised, kissing your face, chasing his high. "Look so beautiful, baby"
Did he mean it?
You couldn't help but wonder if there was someone else that got to hear these words when you two were not in the same country.
And as Satoru climaxed inside the rubber tight around his dick, you couldn't help imagining there was someone else he was stuffing full of Gojo heirs.
Was this resentment you felt?
That was one word for it, you guessed.
But despite all your ugly thoughts, Satoru never really acted that different. He kissed your face all over, held you tight, shushed you lovingly against his chest while your tired body spasmed. He was the perfect gentleman like always, the perfect boyfriend.
Just not your boyfriend.
"You did so well for me" he said with a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face. "Was that all ok?"
You hated how much he sounded like he cared. He did care, right?
But every sweet word felt like a knife, and before you knew it, tears were spilling from your eyes as you curled into him.
"Hey–" he called immediately, startled. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head from side to side, because he hadn't. He treated you so well it was almost even worse.
"I can't" you cried, pulling him closer. "I can't keep doing this" you hiccuped.
Satoru sighed, burying his face on the crook of your neck. "I know, baby" he whispered. "I know" he repeated like he meant it.
You melted into him, embraced by the man you had loved for so long it evolved into whatever this was. It didn't feel light anymore – it was dark, and sticky, like an uncomfortable void you were unable to move away from.
But what was even the solution?
You didn't want to leave your whole life for him, and he didn't want you to come either.
Were you destined to just keep doing this forever?
"Please move back here" you hiccuped, cursing at yourself for how selfish you sounded.
Everything would be so much easier then.
"I–" Satoru opened his mouth, ready to tell you no again. But he only sighed, nuzzling into your hair. "I'll see what I can do" he promised.
And you cried yourself to sleep in his arms, because you didn't believe him.
You woke up that morning with a bad feeling pooling in your chest.
You could have described it as hollow, but it didn't feel deep enough to describe it.
It wasn't so much of a cavin in, but more of an infinite void right in your middle. Like you were a floating head just existing, detatched from the rest of your body, trying to regain balance despite being so structureless.
You could say your body knew before your mind did.
Maybe you had been here enough times that you didn't think it would surprise you again.
You hoped you would have awoken feeling some sort of relief at the words exchanged the night before, the tears both of you had shed about this failed relationship you two seemed unable to let go of.
But you didn't.
Because there was no dip next to you on the bed, no strong arms pulling you into his warm chest.
Satoru was gone.
And you knew what that meant well enough.
You slowly pushed yourself to sitting, already feeling the pressure in your throat, feelings you were already trying to swallow down.
Your hand reached for the phone, eyes briefly scanning through the only text before you let out a long, tired exhale.
꒰melody꒱ asking boyfriend!choso to fuck your throat
mdni ꩜ smut, intimacy & aftercare. art by @/kanmi013
"I don't want to hurt you"
"You're not going to hurt me, Cho"
It was a little ridiculous to be debating right now, considering the position you were in – on your back, head slightly hanging off the edge of the mattress, and right in between your boyfriends thick thighs.
It's not like it was the first time you suggested something that made him red as a tomato. Actually, you would have thought he was used to it by now.
From above you, Choso's adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly, somewhere between hypnotised and worried. "What if you can't breathe?" he reasoned.
"I'll tap your leg if it's too much" you reassured.
Normally he was always happy to try whatever you suggested, but you could see why he was a little apprehensive about this one.
You could just about make out his handsome face in this awkward position, but once he started moving, you would be completely trapped under him... a thought you actually quite enjoyed.
Choso considered it for a moment longer, a hand lazily stroking his member just inches away from you – already suspiciously hard despite his hesitation.
It was like he was teasing you, having it so close but still so far. Was it so wrong to just want the love of your life to fuck your throat?!
"Ok…" Choso finally sighed reluctantly, but the way his cock twitched in his grasp was fooling no one. "Can you, um, open your mouth?"
You did.
"Fuck" Choso gasped immediately, throwing his head back in ecstasy despite not having even entered you yet.
You couldn't help a devilish smile, admiring how he bit his bottom lip above you with barely controlled lust. "Do you need a moment, Cho?" you teased.
"No! No" he quickly said, looking down at you again with a long exhale. "You look really good like that"
His dark eyes were locked on yours now, mesmerised. Despite how hard you wanted to tease him for getting so excited just looking at you, there was no denying he did the same to you.
Embarrassing, really. The way your thighs squeezed together at the sight of him alone.
"You look good too" you replied softly, feeling your own face grow hot.
"Yeah?" he smiled, beginning to stroke himself again. "You want me to fuck your throat?"
Fuck.
"Y–yeah" you swallowed hard, heart beginning to beat a little too fast inside your chest. "Please"
"Then be a good girl and open your mouth"
He didn't even have to ask you twice.
You willingly parted your lips, as drunk on him as he was drunk on you.
The minute Choso started to sink into your mouth your eyes began to water, hands coming to grab his thighs just to have something to hold on to.
It wasn't the most comfortable position to be taking him in, sure, but you were happy he agreed to try it. Even more so hearing the lewd sounds that were coming from his throat, like the sweetest melody.
"Just like that, baby" he groaned, sinking a little deeper. You so wished you could see what he looked like right now. "Doing so good for me"
You really wanted to please him, but you couldn't help the way you constricted around him as he reached deeper, exploring further than he ever had. "Still ok?" Choso asked, waiting for your struggled nod before continuing.
And then he really started moving. Shallow thrusts at first, in and out, in and out. Going deeper with each one, giving you time to adjust to his size.
"Taking me so fucking well" he panted. "Fuck, I can see it" his thumb slowly stroked the bulge on your neck, a tender caress despite how mean he moved now.
Deeper and deeper.
The heat between your legs was starting to get too much to ignore – your boyfriend driving you insane with nothing but his cock in your throat and his little groans and whimpers, as he fucked your face like he would your pussy.
Maybe you'd suggest filming it next time, just so you could admire his expressions.
Though you also enjoyed your imagination.
And as if just to empty all thoughts from your head, Choso pushed all the way in – you choked around him, struggling to accommodate him so deep, but when your boyfriend tried to move back and give you respite, your hands immediately brought his hips back towards you.
"Fuck– you feel so good" he gasped in surprise, mesmerised by how hard you tried for him, by how much you wanted this. "Hold it there for me baby, can you do that?"
You did – growing more and more used to the odd pressure, your face a mix of tears and spit, throat stretched beyond capacity.
"Ahhhh, such a good girl" he exhaled. "Can I–can I cum in your throat?" he asked a little shyly.
You tried your best to nod yes, despite not being able to move much.
Choso understood, moving his hips back again to shove himself back in, one more time, two times, and on the third – he sunk so deep you had no choice but swallow all he was giving you.
You loved it. Both the salty taste and how he moaned above you.
As soon as he was done, Choso removed himself, kneeling down next to your head. "Are you ok?" he asked hurriedly, wiping your face for you, using the towel he had left by the bed for this exact reason.
"Yes" you said, voice a little hoarse. "Did you enjoy it?" you smiled, while Choso brought two hands to your shoulders to help you sit up, treating you like you were precious.
"Yeah" he admitted with a blush on his cheeks. He passed you a glass of water, another precaution he had taken. "I…really did"
You took a slow sip, while his hands slowly rubbed your shoulders and neck, easing the tension you were just starting to feel from the odd position you had been in.
"Good" you leaned forward to kiss his nose then, just above his mark. "Sounded like you did" you teased, enjoying his little grimace.
He took the glass from you as you put your hands on the mattress to push yourself up, but before you could – Choso stopped you with two firm hands on your hips.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, positioning himself between your legs. "It's my turn to hear the sounds you make"
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RINRIN my love im so inactive lately but i see your notifs and miss you lots and i just wanted to pop in to give u sm love 💗 TAKE CARE OF URSELF MWAAAAA
jayyyjayyyyyy i love and miss you so much! i hope you’re enjoying your time offline and living all your dreams <333
꒰impatient꒱ husband!nanami almost missed his son's birth
꩜ angst to fluff; comfort. art by @/mamitasoa7x0312
Nanami's heart beat louder than it ever had as he drove to you.
Ignoring every traffic light and speed limit. This wasn't like him, but he could feel bad about it later. Right now, there was only thing he had to do – get to you.
As fast as he fucking could.
Were you scared? Were you in pain?
Of course you were in pain.
And he wasn't there.
His foot slammed the accelerator again, the hospital building finally coming into view up ahead.
It wasn't meant to happen this early, he was caught off guard at work – but as soon as your anxious voice reached him from the phone and tried to explain that your water had broke, he left the office without a word. Later he'd notice the missed calls from his boss, but again – he didn't care.
Everything was out the window the minute you needed him.
You were in pain. You were having his baby.
What was supposed to be a joyous moment shared by the two of you, now meant nothing but fear from both sides.
Another traffic light ignored, but it was finally the last one.
The nurse must have thought he was losing his mind when he reached the front desk, giving her your name through ragged breaths. "Mr. Nanami?" she tried to confirm, and he only managed an exhausted nod.
His hair was a mess, tie undone, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. But when the nurse finally showed him the way, Nanami followed close, almost overtaking her as if this was a race.
And finally, the sterile hospital corridor led to a door, and the door led to you.
Looking as sweaty as he was, holding your swollen belly with two hands, face twisting in pain.
But when you saw him, something visibly changed – your breathing hitched, your shoulders dropped, and the pain gave way to a smile. One the two of you desperately needed.
"Ken?" you whispered, tears already slipping through your beautiful cheeks.
"I'm here" he rushed to your side, sitting next to your bed and placing both hands on top of yours. On your stomach, near your son. "I am so sorry, my love" he took one to kiss your knuckles, the other gently rubbing your skin, small circles he hoped might settle the two of you.
"I'm so happy you're here" you cried, interlocking your fingers with his, the golden wedding band glistening in the cold overhead light.
"What did the doctors say? Do you need anything? Water? How bad is the pain? Is he ok?" Nanami wasn't even sure what he was saying, just going through the practicals first. As if you knew it was the only way to help him relax, you let out a soft giggle.
"Everything is fine" you reassured, looking down at your stomach and the person you had been waiting months to meet.
Nanami followed your gaze, taking his eyes from you for the first time. He brought his body forwards a little, leaning over to press a kiss just above your belly button. "Already impatient, just like your mother" he shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax.
"I'm not sure about that" you smiled. "Looks like he was ready and didn't want to do overtime, like someone I know"
Nanami looked up at you then, letting out a small chuckle himself. He pushed up, cupping your cheek gently. "He's perfect" he said, with a kiss to your forehead. "So I'm sure he takes after you"
In your husband's embrace, you finally began to breathe a little easier. The pain was coming and going, getting more intense with every contraction, but Nanami was right there holding your hand, rubbing your back, instructing you through breathing exercises.
His brows furrowed when you groaned, wishing he could take all the pain from you and give to himself. But he didn't let you see him so worried – Nanami was completely focused on you.
"You're doing so well" he kissed your shoulder when it hurt too much. "I love you" he whispered, as you almost broke his hand with how hard you squeezed it.
Nanami didn't care about anything else in the world right now, just his two favourite people. The one in his arms, and the one he was about to meet.
