Ocean's Bloom 🌺

🔗 Prologue

🔗 Chapter 1: A Walk In The Forest With The Devil

🔗 Chapter 2: Rip And Tear

🔗 Chapter 3: Sanctified To The Thing With The Pink Hair

🔗 Chapter 4: The Belly Of The Beast

🔗 Chapter 5: Nightly Visits

🔗 Chapter 6: The Tip Of Your Tongue

🔗 Chapter 7: Duality Of A Different Kind

🔗 Chapter 8: The Remedy For Bad Dreams

🔗 Chapter 9: The Space Between

🔗 Chapter 10: A Snake Shedding Its Skin

🔗 Chapter 11: The Tragedy Of Want And Need

🔗 Chapter 12: Falling, Too

🔗 Chapter 13: Ruiner

🔗 Chapter 14: All The Hands Past Midnight

🔗 Chapter 15: All The Hands At Dawn

🔗 Chapter 16: Everything Unwanted

🔗 Chapter 17: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

🔗 Chapter 18: Snake Den

🔗 Chapter 19: Something's Burning

🔗 Chapter 20: Still A Monster

🔗 Chapter 21: A Warm Place

🔗 Chapter 22: Small Blade

🔗 Chapter 23: Rotting Wound And A Hole In The Wall

🔗 Chapter 24: The Devil At Your Back

🔗 Chapter 25: Something Wicked This Way Comes

🔗 Chapter 26: The Other Daughter

🔗 Chapter 27: The Great Collapse

🔗 Chapter 28: Fingertips To Flesh

🔗 Chapter 29: Shatter

🔗 Chapter 30: Sans Silk

🔗 Chapter 31: The Flower In The North

🔗 Chapter 32: One Final Breath Of Lungs To You

🔗 Chapter 33: Ruin

🔗 Chapter 34: All Oil And Flame

🔗 Chapter 35: Goodbye, Little Red Flower

🔗 Chapter 36: A Burial Of Things

🔗 Chapter 37: Liminality

🔗 Chapter 38: The Imbalance Of Being Known

🔗 Chapter 39: Beautiful Thorn

🔗 Chapter 40: The Taste Of Salt

🔗 Chapter 41: The Taste Of Sweet

🔗 Chapter 42: The Final Reprisal Of Want And Need

🔗 Chapter 43: The Queen Of Persuasion

🔗 Chapter 44: Serpent Versus Snake

🔗 Chapter 45: Finally

🔗 Chapter 46: Heat From A Thousand Suns, A Thousand Throats, A Thousand Lungs

🔗 Chapter 47: Warmth

🔗 Chapter 48: Around And Around

🔗 Chapter 49: Beloved

🔗 Chapter 50: The Seed

🔗 Chapter 51: The Soil

🔗 Chapter 52: A Bud

🔗 Chapter 53: The Bloom

🔗 Chapter 54: The Garden

You always thought that loving them was so easy. Maybe even a bit too easy, with how eagerly they fulfilled your every wish, each expectation, as if just waiting for their dearest wife to push her pledge.

As every other normal marriage, you had a fair share of rather gloomy days, when heavy, stormy clouds floated over your furrowed foreheads. Well, yours particularly, as there was nothing you could do that truly angered your husbands. They knew exactly how to pamper their dearest wife, to get rid of this little wrinkle between your brows.

Your relationship was so healthy, pure, and they fully put their trust in you that… resigning from work wasn’t a big deal.

Or wasn’t it?

"Darling, it’s not that you really need to work," they said once, sliding a black credit card your way. "Just use our money."

And so you accepted it, because at that time, while you were still in your very early twenties, boasting to your friends about the older boyfriends’ credit card was something. Something silly yet warming, knowing that no matter how much money you spent, both of them still treated you quite seriously.

But then, after a few months of dating, another request came.

"What about university?" Slipped almost silently, leaving you with slightly fallen lips.

First, you were speechless, wondering, what about it?

"You’ve always wanted to be a writer, darling. With our income, you can pursue your dream, right? It’s not like you need a degree for that, is it?"

They said it so casually, as if throwing away the past few years of your studies was that simple.

You’ve always wanted to be a writer; that was right, but it was rather a hobby. Nothing more. In fact, you dreamed of becoming an elementary school teacher, always loving the innocent and pitched laughter of little munchkins. And this path required you to attain a higher degree, thus resigning from university immediately met with your refusal.

They…

They weren’t happy, but the topic was never raised again. Sometimes, however, you’d catch them with a grimace whenever you had to leave for evening classes.

You had already lost your main source of income after they asked you to leave the shitty bar job, so you simply couldn’t give up on your degree. Moreover, after all, you weren’t foolish enough to risk your entire life for just two men. Even if they were your rich, rich boyfriends.

Besides a few little flaws – truly nothing serious! – your relationship was great.

The best, you would say, judging by how your friends admired both of them. With sweet, jealous snippets – never harmful, always genuine – whenever they picked you up from the university. And sometimes they would use them too, as a free ride or an ATM, even as an emergency contact, considering how open both of them were to pampering your friends, too.

You didn’t mind, because they always acted like true gentlemen, offering them nothing but simple kindness and affordable generosity. If paying for your best friend’s manicure would make you happy, then be it!

After two months of dating, they invited you to move into a mansion on Tokyo’s outskirts. It was a beautiful, traditional two-story Japanese house, subtly nestled among the surrounding forest trees. Initially, you disagreed, feeling that living so far away was impractical. The location was so remote that it hardly seemed like Tokyo, and you didn’t see a bus station on the way there. 

"Our chauffeur will take you wherever you need to go each day, so no worries. Besides, you dislike your small apartment and the city noise," slipped into your neck, as they tried to carefully, sweetly, persuade you to accept their offer.

Well, they were right.

You hated that place, with a single little window set so high that you had to stand on a chair to open it. However, your income couldn’t allow you to find anything as decent and as close to the centre as that one. 

To convince you further, they took you on a tour of the house.

It was as beautiful as you’d imagined, with sunlight creeping through the large windows and dancing cheerfully across the wooden floor. They knew you’d dreamed of a home with beautiful, warm floors.

The big kitchen called to you the moment you stepped through the front door, even though you weren’t a good cook. The view from the living room was breathtaking, and the bathroom was big enough for all three of you. The bedroom, however, was the most beautiful and cosiest room in the home, with a bed so comfortable you could melt into it. It was an immediate yes, though they’d known it from the beginning.

A year later, they proposed.

In Okinawa, as you always wanted, at a small house right near the ocean. The previous evening, all of you made love on the warm sand of your private beach, with both of them caressing your body sweetly. With lips smooching your breasts and inner thighs, ragged thrusts making your head spin and soft moans fill the salty air.

The next day, when you woke up on a soft bed with the ocean breeze crawling through the open windows, a beautiful, golden ring was already on your finger.

As if they knew, you would agree. 

"Let’s get married," one of them said, while the other was stuck like glue to your back. All of you were still naked, your bodies slick with sweat and sand.

It wasn’t a question, but you still nodded and, with a loud squeak, kissed both of them. 

Was it too quick?

Of course, but you were young and in love. With salt tangled in your hair and their soft lips kissing every corner of your plush skin. Life was beautiful, sweet, and pleasurable, filled with their haunting presence and affection that swelled your heart.

They wanted to get married right the next day – just a word, and we’ll have it done – but how could you! It was too fast, so soon, and you still had a few months till the graduation. They weren’t happy to hear that you wanted to wait months for the official ceremony, but you somehow managed to persuade them. 

With a golden tongue and gentle touch, which made their toes curl in pleasure.

Oh, such simple men they both were!

Everything sounds rather amazing, right?

As if both of them escaped from a fairytale, offering their hearts, minds and souls to this simple girl. With nothing to her name and a completely normal background. Maybe if you were a beautiful model or a daughter coming from an influential family, the…

…obsession haunting their hearts would be much more understandable. 

Because, well, there was this one issue that started nagging you soon after the marriage.

Your husbands were wonderful; you could truly never complain about them.

But loving them turned out to be much, much harder than you thought.

Because after three years of your marriage, while packing your clothes quietly into the first suitcase you could find, your mind still tried to wrap itself around everything that happened. Thoughts battled in your mind, fingers trembled in fear, while eyes darted every few seconds to their sleeping faces.

So beautiful, yet oh so cruel too.

And with tears flowing down your cheeks, an eerie thought has crossed your mind. 

That maybe, for the past five years, you were just a foolish, naive young woman. 

A girl, even, who should have noticed those little tricks and lies, they both blinded you with.

After five years, as you watched your peacefully sleeping husbands, you realised that everything had been there all along, hidden in plain sight. You had always thought this was what love was – suffocating yet warm, genuine yet tinged with possessiveness.

And if then, those years ago, you had been more careful, you might have avoided everything that happened over the next five years of your life.

☾ ☾ ☾

The heavy air of summer carried a specific melody on Tokyo nights. A mixture of drunk people crawling from bar to bar and overworked salarymen trying to catch the last train. Some students were just leaving the warm embrace of the library, while others were preparing for a long night out with cheap drinks from bars like yours.

The place you’d worked at wasn’t anything fancy, but given the current economy, you quite liked it. The evening clientele was mostly made up of men avoiding their families and students from the nearby university. 

As a student, you persuaded the boss to reduce your evening shifts from ending at three a.m. to ten p.m., since nothing scared you more than wandering through the dark, quiet streets of Tokyo.

That night, however, you had to stay a bit longer. One of your colleagues had accidentally overslept, and no one else could cover for her ass. You weren’t happy, considering it was Friday evening and the streets were much busier than usual, but at the same time, there was truly nothing you could do.

So you stayed, with minutes passing by, till the clock showed eleven thirty p.m. and the heavy, wooden doors finally opened with a thud.

"I’m so sorry!" Yuki panted, with a sweat coiling between her brows. "Really, ahh, I had an exam in the morning and–"

You giggled, waving your hand gently. "Don’t worry, it’s fine. If I run, I can still catch the last night bus."

After accepting her apologies again and again, until she almost went down on her knees and offered to pay for your cab, you finally left.

The night air tasted sweetly and embraced your still body with its warm clutches. A few men sat outside the bar, following your shivering body with a drunken gaze. A bit dizzy, slightly cheeky, nevertheless not leaving their place when you disappeared around the corner.

Going back home under the darkness that cloaked the streets always made you uneasy. Japan was generally safe, but stories of young women facing danger at night circulated in the news every few days and haunted you like a nightmare. 

You took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder every few minutes. Just to make sure.

The bus stop was relatively close, just around the next building, but… well. 

But there was also a little alley that cut through the building, letting you save at least five minutes of walking. And considering the time, you really needed to use it.

So there you were, standing at its entrance and ogling the darkness that spilt between the narrow, brick walls. The alley was fairly long, and from here you could already see the gentle glimmer of the bus stop.

So close and yet it felt like a long and tiring journey, with monsters and shadows just waiting to dig their iron teeth into your flesh. 

"Okay," you muttered, gripping the keys in your fist. "It’s fine, just run as fast as you can and pray that the guardian angel is looking over you." You foolishly looked up, as if the godly creature could hear your faint prayers. "Please do your job."

Crossing the border between the dark alley and the nicely lit street felt like drowning. In mere seconds, complete darkness covered you from head to toe, devouring your slightly trembling body. 

The bus stop was there, right there, shining under the streetlights like lost Atlantis. You needed mere thirty seconds to get to it, maybe twenty if you run and oh – you did run.

With a racing heart and the faint sound of footsteps trailing your figure, though you weren’t sure if it was just the fantasies of your frightened mind. 

And as it soon turned out – it wasn’t.

Someone grabbed your arm firmly and shoved you against the wall. Your cheek pressed against cold bricks as a nasty odour hit your senses. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and a sickly sweet yet nauseous smell, making your head spin and tears well up in your eyes. 

"Aren’t you a sight, dear?" a low voice sliced through the evening air before two fat arms pinned you against the walls. "Want to have some fun?"

The man’s hips touched your eyes, nuzzling his cock against your trousers.

"P-Please," slipped almost silently, with a cry, before his sweaty hand covered your mouth.

You tried to kick, fight, free yourself from his merciless grip, but with one hand keeping your wrists and the other slowly, slowly sliding down your throat – it seemed almost impossible.

The clouding smell of alcohol curled around your nostrils as his lips touched your neck. And wet cheeks, a shaking jaw, before he licked your wet skin with a heavy, smelly tongue. Nausea rose in your throat as his hand slipped down to your trousers, struggling with a zip.

And then you understood that, that was it.

The end.

The darkest thought began to spill into your mind – a picture of you, lying naked in the alley until the rising sun would uncover your beaten body.

Without trousers or blouse, only purplish marks covering you from head to toe and disgusting fluid coating your shaking skin.

It was so vivid and real, possible to imagine with the man’s hand grazing the seam of your panties and sticky fingers touching your skin.

His heavy body pressed you completely against the wall, chest, belly, and cheeks flattened against the cold bricks, with sweat from his chest soaking your back.

And when you closed your eyes, preparing for the absolute worst – he disappeared.

Just like that.

A sound echoed, evoking memories of struggles and fights, before a deep laugh resonated through the quiet air. Freed from his grip, your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the ground with a soft thud. Your back pressed against the brick wall, and your legs curled up, drawn close to your chest.

"W-Wait, p-please–" rolled in pain, before a smashing sound followed. 

A noise reminding you of fresh meat, beaten to a pulp by a heavy, nasty hammer.

But it wasn’t the hammer that was going straight into the man’s bloody cheek, but a fist. Veiny, big, more pale than the moonlight spilling into the alley, and marked by crimson droplets.

And it kept coming, again and again, with each strike landing heavier than the other. The dry smashes soon turned into lined with dampness, as a crimson liquid pooled on the man’s face. The air smelled thick, metallic, almost unbearable, and another wave of nausea slowly rose up your throat.

The man who was beating your oppressor didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t even breathe, solely focusing on pouring the harsh smashes as if it were something natural. A quiet laugh slipped past his lips.

"Come on, you were real strong a second ago," he murmured, his voice soft in a way that didn’t quite match the brutality of his hands. "Why won’t you try to attack someone your size?"

Before you could move, gasp, or say anything to not become a witness to a murder, another voice slipped in.

"Hey, darling, look here," asked softly, with two fingers turning your head away. "Yeah, that’s good. Eyes on me."

Something warm spilt all over your chest. Something quite similar to the purple irises that gazed at you – filled with kindness and gentleness that soothed your heart. It appeared safe and trustworthy, with two strong fingers gently pinching your wet chin. Long, raven hair brushed his chest, curling around the sharpest, most handsome face you’ve ever seen. With a soft, almost paternal frown creasing his straight eyebrows.

"I–he–" your voice trembled, words collapsing into each other. "He just–"

"Shh, I know," he murmured, before pulling you closer, with one arm wrapping around your shoulders. He helped you stand up, keeping your shaking body turned away from the even wetter noises. As if the other man was smashing nothing but a bowl filled with a freshly pulled out gut. "You’re okay; he’s not going to touch you again."

Something cracked in the back, and you jumped. It was loud, horrific, already haunting your mind again and again, and if not for a man, you would surely glance over your shoulder. And maybe finally vomit, upon seeing a view pulled straight from the horrors.

"Satoru, it’s enough. She’s terrified," the man said, looking back to his friend. 

A silence followed, and you couldn’t see anything aside from shallow, wetted breaths and the other man’s soft tsk. His footsteps echoed between the brick walls, and soon a tall, looming figure appeared in front of you. 

A demon… no. An angel, with the most unusual, whitest hair, reminding you of snowy peaks and… oh.

And those eyes.

The ones that would plague your heart for the next years, painted with the softest, yet coldest shades of blue. 

His milky face was turned in a grimace just a few seconds ago, but now the corners of his eyes softened. Lips curled up, just slightly, dulling the terrifying brutality.

But you knew that it was still there, with his bloody fists being evidence enough.

"Hey," he called, with a much lighter voice than before. "You can relax, he’s done."

Done? You wanted to whisper, trying to peek over the shoulder. But another man stood right behind you, with a soft smile and a broad back completely hiding the source of a crimson trail that curved like a snake on the concrete. 

Warm hand touch your back, pushing you gently forward. "Let’s go, darling. Let us take you home."

Something in your mind screamed to run. 

To thank two strangers and walk away towards the bus stop, instead of allowing them to walk you straight to the entrance of the alley. 

But instead, you let yourself get manhandled, like a rag doll, with both of them soon walking by your side and circling like lone wolves.

When you left the alley, you tried to look over your shoulder once again, but a big, warm palm quickly raised to your eyes. "There’s nothing to see, darling," the raven-haired man said, sending you a soft smile. "You can forget about him."

A warmth hit your face after getting scolded like a child. "Is he…" alive? "…Okay? Sir–"

"Just call me Suguru," he said, before glancing towards another man. "I’m sure Satoru didn’t beat him that bad, right?"

A soft scoff rolled from Satoru’s throat, his eyes looking down at your furrowed forehead. "Just a small graze, don’t worry about him."

But how could you not, if his pale fist was still dripping with blood?

Before you could pry further, heavy footsteps echoed behind you. Quiet voices and low, manly chuckles followed, before another wave of muffled begging filled the air. When you turned your head again, Suguru’s hand was still at your eye level. Warm, wide, blocking your view of the alley that was slowly fading away.

He didn’t say anything, but cheeky smile was enough to send another wave of warmth to your cheeks. You didn’t dare to look back again. 

Instead, your mind started to wander, eyes glanced between them both, towering over your figure like two titans, with shoulders gently brushing yours. 

Who were they?

Why were they here?

Why at this hour?

Looking at neatly fitting black suits, you could only guess that they were one of the local salarymen, leaving their work at the absurdly late hours. 

But somehow the look of overworked corporate rats didn’t fit them, with a refreshing glimmer coiling behind their eyes and skin too soft to ever be touched by hours of sitting behind the desk.

After a few minutes of slow walking, their questions started to roll in one by one.

What’s your name? 

What do you study?

Do you live alone? 

"No, with a boyfriend" you lied, as a bit of critical thinking still lingered in your frightened mind.

But it seemed that the boyfriend part didn’t quite work, as they still walked far too close.

Where do you work? Oh, you’re a teacher? How fantastic!

"No, not yet," you shyly corrected, but at this point, they had already got too excited.

When they finished, you began your investigation with great care, trying to keep a bit of distance between their bodies.

Where do you work?

"In a company, just around the corner."

Why are you going back so late? 

"You know how it is, so much work!"

How old are you? 

"Twenty-nine."

Oh, there was a six-year difference between you.

Are you bro- 

Satoru chuckled before you finished, and Suguru smiled. "Do we look like brothers, darling?"

Well, they didn’t, but you just wanted to fill an eerie atmosphere with a bunch of random questions. And then you dropped the one you needed the answer to the most:

"That man," you started, following the slow move of your feet. One next to another, one next to another, ignore how close their leather shoes lean your way. "Are you going to bring him to the poli–"

But you couldn’t finish, as Satoru accidentally bumped your shoulder. "Looks like we’re here!"

Here? You wondered, looking up from your feet. 

It wasn’t a bus stop, as you expected, nor any other public transport that would allow you to safely go back home. 

Instead, you saw the black car, standing luxuriously under the lamppost. Long and elegant, clearly expensive and usually owned by those disgustingly rich people.

Not simple salarymen.

You stood still, with feet pinned to the concrete as if something at the back of your mind forbade you from moving. 

From taking another step, only to find yourself too close to the open, shiny doors. 

From standing within the reach of the men’s hands, ready to grab you and pull inside.

An eerie, bizarre thought has crossed your mind, sending a sudden shiver down your spine.

Were they genuinely your saviours? Or should the last traces of blood on Satoru’s knuckles and Suguru’s charming yet unsettling smile make you hesitate before trusting them?

You took a step back.

Suguru stood by the open door, waiting for you to plunge into the darkness inside the car. "Come on, darling, it’s getting quite late."

Another step back. "I can’t–"

You didn’t finish when something warm and heavy curled around your shoulder, and Satoru’s deep voice tickled your ear. "It’s okay, baby. Let us help you, hm? It’s too late to take the bus."

He was close, leaning over you and filling the air with a woody, minty scent that pleased your senses. A warm hand squeezed your shoulder, before another finger pushed back a single strand of hair stuck to your slightly opened lips.

"I’m sure you’re tired, darling," Suguru cooed. "I promise, the seats are quite comfortable. You can even use the massager."

You looked around, the night air biting your warmed cheeks. Your body felt hot and cold at the same time, with a flame coiling in your belly and shivers dripping down the spine. Dead silence hugged you, and your breath hitched when Satoru tried to push you forward. 

"N-No! I don’t know you." Something in your voice made them frown, and Satoru pulled slightly away. "I can’t go back with you. I’m sorry."

What were you apologising for? 

For refusing two strangers from taking you back home?

Foolish girl.

"My boyfriend…" again with a lie. "He would be angry. I’m just going to take the taxi."

A silence stretched mercilessly between the three of you, before Suguru finally closed the doors with a dead thud. "Right, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t love to see his sweet girl with two strange men."

You tried to ignore the sweet part and simply nodded.

Suguru’s eyes wandered around your face – slightly warm cheeks, trembling eyes, lower lip trapped between the teeth. You looked like a bunny, a little deer, trapped between the two wolves. 

His gaze met with Satoru’s for a single second before another warm smile lifted up his lips. "Well, of course. That’s very rational, darling. It’s a pity your boyfriend couldn’t come and pick you up."

Yeah. A pity indeed.

You started to wonder how low Shoko’s voice could go in case they tried to call your imagined boyfriend.

Although it wasn’t entirely a lie, as you did flirt with a guy you met on a dating app. Nothing serious, just a few hookups and casual dates, but he was rather nice, and if need, maybe you could ask him to come over and, well, act like your loser boyfriend.

"Let us order you a taxi instead," Satoru offered, then his gaze shifted to the unlocked phone loosely in your hand. "Ah. How about this," he said, swiftly slipping his fingers around it and pulling from between yours.

"Hey! No, give it back!" You exclaimed, jumping, as he chuckled softly and raised the phone above his head, tapping on the bright screen. 

You couldn’t see what he was doing until it landed back on your hand. And then you saw a new contact, followed by a muted vibration of his phone. 

"How about we treat you to a meal next time?" Satoru murmured, and for a moment, you were sure you misheard him.

"A meal? But you saved me, I should be the one treating you."

Suguru chuckled, stepping closer. The warmth radiated from his suit-clad body as he loomed over your hunched figure. Almond eyes were fixed on your creased forehead, hands hidden in the pockets of black trousers. 

You didn’t like the air both of them spread around themselves.

Lined with something predatory, slightly eerie, with the way their gazes followed every move of your fingers tapping out a message to Shoko – If I won’t be home in twenty, call the police – and Satoru’s scent still clinging to your skin.

"You can treat us by letting yourself get taken out for a meal," Satoru said, quickly adding, as if he already guessed your answer, "I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind a casual meeting, right?"

Before you answered, a taxi rolled quietly, standing next to the black limousine.

Your saviour.

Suguru, once again, opened the door after reminding the man to drive safely. 

"Well," you coughed, looking between them both. "Thank you for saving me. If not for you…" your throat squeezed, when you imagined all the things that could happen if they didn’t pass by.

It didn’t matter how feverish and weird you felt in their presence – they still saved your life.

And you were thankful for it, truly, but a thought of meeting them ever again… well.

Suguru smiled, covering the top of your head as you got into the car, "There’s no need to thank us, darling." He added with a grin, "We’d be happy to spoil you a bit. If it’s alright, we can pick you up after your classes on Monday. Your university is just a few minutes from our apartment, so it’s no trouble," before quickly closing the door.

Get spoiled, rolled in your mind, and your spine tingled.

But when the car moved and the heaviness of their gazes finally left your body, something else rose.

Something sudden, making your head spin and fingers tremble as if biting cold had hit your heart. 

You never revealed your university's name.

chapter two

Well, I hope you like this short introduction! I'm a bit afraid to go with this series as dark content gets so much hate right now (on we know what profile), but honestly fuck it. I will try to make it darker than previously!

You clear your throat, he’s too close to you, this tall man, with tattoos that you just can’t rip your eyes away from, adorning huge hands with raised blue and purple veins underneath taut skin. The music and lights of the bar all fade, like some dumb movie you’d watch, your thighs pressing together, trying to rip your gaze from him and focus.

“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks,” you hear it then, there’s no mistaking that voice, the one that used to make you so fucking angry, the man who’d had your mother dumb in love. You glare up then, for him to look down at you, taking his glass and smirking, ruby eyes lidded as he studies you. “Ah, it’s the brat.”

“The brat? Excuse me?” You roll your eyes at him, while Sukuna studies just how fucking sexy you look right now.

You’re a little older now, you lost some of that baby face, becoming even more pretty, a sharper jut to your chin, narrowed eyes with your lips all glossy and pursed together in irritation. Your hair falls against bare shoulders, you’ve got a different style than you did then to it, silky against your bare skin in that slutty little excuse for an outfit you’re wearing.

He drifts his gaze down to breasts begging for his hands, nipples pressing against pathetic fucking material, some velvet and lace bodice that should be in a bedroom only. He resists the urge to throw his coat over you, before eyeing the boy behind you trying to make conversation.

He gives him such a look that the boy literally fucking runs away, much to Sukuna’s amusement, smirking when you look over your shoulder. “Huh, looks like he got annoyed by you finally.”

“You’re still such a dick, nothing’s changed, huh?” You scoff, rolling your eyes then, he sits down casually, eyeing your empty glass.

“Want a drink?” You pause then, his thigh is brushing against yours, he’s close - too close again. “You’re old enough now, yeah?”

“Twenty-five. And you? Fifty yet?”

“You’re still bitchy as ever,” he rolls his eyes at you, leaning back on the seat a bit, sipping his glass, you watch his adam’s apple bob, the dark lights glinting off his frosty pink locks. “Thirty five.”

“I forgot mom was a cougar,” he chuckles a bit, the sound throaty and doing too much. “You still talk to her?”

“Yeah, I do. She invited me to your sister’s wedding. Me and her were pretty cool with each other – you were the little brat.”

“Yeah well sorry I didn’t want you trying to tell me what to do,” he leans forward, a fist under his chin, elbow on the bar.

“Your mom still a bitch to you?”

You pause, blinking a bit. “She’s always disappointed, if that’s what you mean, she’ll always be her favorite.”

Sukuna pauses a bit, the reason he and your mother didn’t work out had a lot to do with how stuck up and pretentious she was, of course she was beautiful and fun for the time, but she also just didn’t give a fuck. Especially about you from what he can briefly remember sticking around when you were eighteen and trying to figure out college.

“You got invited, huh?” He blinks a bit, the past slipping some. “Mom want some dick again?”

He laughs then, a husky, throaty laugh, running a hand through his hair. “If she does, I sure won’t be giving it to her.”

“What are you dating? My condolences to her.” His eyes narrow at your mean little smile.

“Nope,” he taps your glass again. “Do you want a drink or not?”

“I dunno, former step-dad.”

He scowls now, you’re giggling until he leans far too close, lips a breath away from yours. “Never was your fucking ‘step dad’. Unless,” his fingers drift across your cheek now. “You wanted me to be, ya got that many mommy issues?”

“You fucking wish,” you slap his hand, scowling up at him, meeting his energy in that moment. “Get me one then.”

“What little bitch drink are you having?”

“Dirty shirley.”

He laughs at you again, you shove his big ass, feeling those biceps under your hand. “The bitchiest of drinks.”

“Oh fuck you,” he chuckles and orders you one anyway, judgy as fuck when the bartender pops in a pretty cherry. “Thanks I guess.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you brush your hair back off your shoulders, exposing far too much of your pretty shoulders, lips wrapping around the straw. “Drinking your sorrows?”

“What do you care?”

“We’re both here, might as well catch up with my former almost step daughter.” You shove at his big body, he snorts in laughter, irritating you to no end. “Thought this was your kink.”

“Psh, you’re so annoying I swear. I’m doing music and busy being the family disappointment.” You raise your glass in a toast, he can’t stop the grin on his face.

“Could disappoint them more.”

“You think so?” He leans back, putting the crystal glass back up to his lips.

“Of course you can. You could become a stripper, they'd love that.”

“Shit, I could, maybe dance at the bachelor party?”

“There you go, that’d really get ‘em going,” you laugh then, the sound too pleasing to his ears. “You’re failing at being the disappointment.”

“I am, truly,” something feels almost comfortable about Sukuna in that moment, you try to ignore how sexy he looks when he loosens his black tie, swallowing more of your pink drink down. “I never liked you.”

“I know,” the lights flit a bit, casting shadows on a face that looks a little too fucking good to your buzzed senses. “I didn’t like you much, just a little brat. You still are it seems.”

“You’re still a dick it seems,” Sukuna just winks at you. “And pretentious.”

“Any other words?”

“Obnoxius, rude, annoying-”

“Just say you wanna fuck me already,” you shove at him again. “You ready for the wedding then? Gonna be in some ugly bridesmaid dress?”

“Of course I will be, it’s the ugliest thing I’ve seen too.” You pick up your phone, showing him a picture of you in it.

“Disgusting.”

“I know!”

“You’ll look like a fucking yellow bird in that thing.”

“It’s so ugly, I have to wear it to the rehearsal dinner too. Are you going to that?” 

“I am, I’m not looking forward to seeing your mom again.”

“Aw,” you trail your fingers up his chest teasingly, a pout on your face. “Poor Sukuna, did she break your wittle heart?”

“You’re such a little brat,” he snatches your wrist then, big fingers entrapping it, leaning close to you. “You know your mom.”

“Not quite like you.”

“We’ve both been inside her tech– shit come back!?” You’re already hopping your drunk ass off the seat.

“I’ll deal with you tomorrow,” you mumble, so done with him then, yet he’s following you. “Are you bored?”

“Are you mad?” You scowl at him now, standing towards the entrance, your jacket slung over your arm. “Upset it isn’t you?”

“You’re trying to piss me off, doesn’t make any sense either, I won’t get you hooked back up with mommy.”

“You keep bringing her up,” he leans low, brushing your hair back, you tremble just a bit at the proximity. “You look good as fuck, y’know that?”

“Oh shut up,” you shove at him again. “What, do I look like mom?”

“Much hotter,” you scoff then, but the words have their fucked effect, his big hand on your waist with his lips against your ear when you phone rings. He pulls back and you take a step away, outside catching your breath. The fucker follows you out, lighting up a cigarette casually.

“Yeah, what’s up mom?” You ask, eyes flitting over to Sukuna’s form, leaning against the brick wall.

“What are you doing, I need you to help with plans! This is your sister’s wedding, you know!” Your jaw sets, hands clutching the phone tightly.

“Mom I’ve helped a ton, I just really needed a break.”

“And where are you – let me guess, drinking?”

“And?”

Her sigh of disappointment is louder than anything. “Get yourself together, your sister at your age was already engaged! She was in charity events and-”

“Yeah, I’m aware she’s perfect,” your voice is quiet, but Sukuna hears it, taking a drag on his cigarette, poking around on his own phone. “You don’t have to constantly remind me.”

“Maybe it will be motivational,” you almost laugh at her then. “Fine just don’t show up hungover to this rehearsal, the entire family will be there.”

“And they’ll all be drinking anyway, but sure I will be bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“I’ll see you then.” She hangs up, you look up at the night sky for a moment, seeing the soft twinkling of the stars, before looking back.

“You smoke now?”

“Bad habit I picked up,” he murmurs, lips wrapping around it to take another drag, puff of smoke rising into the air, he flicks it quickly, hands back in his pockets. “Does mommy want you to leave?”

You laugh a bit without humor then, eyeing the time. “It is eleven, but I have my own suite, she just wants to have plenty of control.”

“Ya gonna give it to her?” You walk over then, shaking your head and brushing past him to the door.

“Wanna play darts?”

He grins, and soon the two of you are going head to head, and fuck Sukuna is competitive at it. They fly with expert precision, zooming past and landing bulls eyes over and over, your own join and meet his, red and black darts scattered all across the board. He’s got you another drink, you’re throwing back a shot with him and laughing, it’s far, far too easy to be around him.

Something you really never expected was that, Sukuna being easy to be around, he was intelligent and sarcastic as can be, but ultimately just fun. You’re laughing so much you almost forget the shitty mindset you were in before, a little too close to him when it’s your turn, soon people are watching you two, seeing the insane back to back competition.

“Hah, I owned your ass!” You flip him off as you pull back your last dart on the board, a big grin on your face that Sukuna finds far too attractive, it’s entirely impossible to register you as the same girl who used to piss him off all the time.

When he dated your mom you hated him, but you also seemed to not be able to stand your own mother. At first it seemed you were just a little brat or something, but he realized that there was clearly more to it in time. You never failed to stick your tongue out at him or 

“I guess you did win,” Sukuna leans too close, chest right against your face as he pulls out your winning dart, you inhale that cologne, tummy tightening with his every movement. “What do you want for winning?”

“I get something, huh?” He nods, his hand slipping across your bare shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

“What would you want me to do, huh brat?”

“You’re at my mercy?” You raise a brow, body thrumming with a heady mix of desire and how fucked up this would be, to do what you’re thinking of with him.

“Never mind, you look scary as fuck, whatever you’re thinking,” he goes to pull away when you tug at his tie, pulling him down to you. “What is it?”

“Make me cum.”

Sukuna doesn’t spend another minute before he’s kissing you right there, lips mean and messy, hands slipping up your hips to tug you against him, leaning you against the wall with his hard body pressed against you. You gasp out, letting his tongue slip in, the faint taste of cigarettes and whiskey lingering on his lips. Sukuna moans and his hands grip your ass right there.

“Not here, are you insane?” You pull back and see his grin plastered on his face now.

“Make you cum, been a while?” He cups your face in a way that’s anything but delicate or sweet.

“Maybe,” you admit, his thigh pressing against your heat, pressing up so that you’re right against him.

“Fingers or mouth?” You blink in surprise then, flushing and looking down, Sukuna chuckles. “Cock? All three?”

“You’re slutty.”

“You’re slutty,” you kiss him again, the alcohol making your head swirl, any decisions being made in your brain shoved away for just how wet you are. “Slutty and soaking wet.”

“Shh,” you grab his wrist, navigating your way through the sea of bodies until you’re both stumbling into a bathroom, he tugs down your top, moaning.

“Filled out-”

“I will hit you,” he snorts and picks you up like you’re fucking nothing, dragging you over to the counter and spreading your thighs. “Mnh!”

“Shh, keep it shut,” he murmurs, your hands grip on his pink locks when he shoves up your dress, slipping your panties aside and groaning out. “Fuck…”

You arch your hips for him, when he laps up juices that have already spilled down your inner thigh, they’re trembling on either side of his head, cunt already pulsing from his breaths. Some odd, fucked up part of you wonders if your mom had him like this, and you try to feel some guilt, but the moment he parts your folds and flicks his tongue up your slit, the thoughts vanish.

“Oh fuck!” He chuckles and covers your mouth, hovering over you, looking down at you fucked out eyes.

“Keep it down, brat, ya that pathetic? Gonna cum from a lick?” You’re just desperately whining against his palm, when he’s back down there, tongue flicking mean while your head presses against the mirror.

“Sukuna…” You’re gushing down his mouth, ecstasy shooting straight through everywhere his tongue dives and slips, fucking you with it then. Your walls grip his wet muscle, the man you couldn’t stand who was with the woman you can’t stand, worshipping you right in the club bathroom. “Ah!”

“Mmm,” he’s slurping up all of your juices then, gummy walls gripping his tongue so tightly he can’t stand it. You’re so sweet then, for the mean little brat you usually are, all pliant and needy. He can’t help but look up at your already fucked out face and grin against you. “Prettier than moms.”

“You’re so fucked up,” you’re wetter though, he notices when his fingers slip up inside your hole, curling up and down, stretching you so much. “Tighter?”

“You’re the fucked up one,” he flicks his tongue on your clit. “Mommy issues out the ass.”

“Shh, get back down,” you shove his face back against you, and he’s so hard it hurts, throbbing and leaking pre, dying to be back inside you. “Mnh! There, there…”

He pulls back right before you’re about to cum, earning your soft whine, he keeps his two fingers pumping up and down, gripping your hair and pulling you to him. “Open, brat.”

You don’t know why, but you easily obey his command, doing just that and opening for his spit, mixed with your flavor, you swallow it down and get even wetter, so wet his fingers slip out, earning your frustrated whine. “Lemme cum, please.”

“You will,” he yanks them out again, shoving them in your mouth so deep you almost choke, sucking yourself off them desperately. “Good little whore.”

“Fuck you,” he just chuckles, pulling you down, you hear the unzipping of his slacks as he turns you to face the mirror then. “Watch your face while I make you cum, huh?”

You would say something smart, but you’re aching, soft moans escaping your throat – nodding quickly as he slips his spit soaked fingers down and into your snug little hole again. He moans against your ear, your taste soaking his mouth now, stroking his cock with his other hand, dying to slip it inside you, but also noticing your face is just too pretty.

He’d thought so years ago, you first met him the summer before college, in some tiny little outfit that had him feeling fucked up, but he promised then he’d avoid that. Yet he couldn’t help himself, finding you on instagram later, jerking it to your pictures long after he split up from your mom, and your body was better than he could imagine, he almost whispers it to you.

No way he gets that vulnerable though, you clearly want to cum and have some serious issues with your mother, and he’s glad to enable if it means he can fuck your pretty cunt at least once. You’re gasping out the quicker they go, teeth clenched together with the stretch, trying desperately not to make much noise though your cunt is loud enough with every movement.

Your hazy mind wonders just how you got here then - With Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers scissoring in and out of your slick cunt - the man who dated your mom for years, the one you can’t fucking stand, arrogant smirk devious as he moves them up and down. The pressure is too much, your head falls back, for his tattooed hand to grab a tit and squish.

“Ah!” You can’t stop that noise from escaping, before biting your lip, trying to hold back the noise.

“Such a little slut, already squirting down my fingers,” you looked in the mirror, Sukuna’s thick digits coated in your slick slipping into your mouth again, while his cock started rubbing up and down your slit. “Hah - fuckin look at you, ya want this inside you brat? Should beg for it.”

You shook your head, even as you arch your ass out for his cock, letting his tip glide between your folds, making lewd and wet noises that echo in the club’s bathroom, teeth nipping his fingers. “No, sure won’t – can’t stand you.”

“Ah, really? Why ya so soaked then, huh?” he’s grinning with a sharp flash of white teeth, lifting your thigh up so a knee was on the counter, pressing in then, hearing your gasp. “Fuck, feel her gripping me. You really hate your mom this much?”

“Just fuck me and shut up already - ah!” Sukuna needs no further urging, his cock is stretching you out so much you can’t take it, screaming out and earning a hand clamped around your mouth.

“So tight, loosen the fuck up,” he grumbles, you scowl even as your hole is quivering, gushing liquid all down his shaft, his fingers sink into your thighs, shoving his cock in so deep you can’t take it. “Feel her grippin’ me, tryna make me bust quick?”

“No, want you to make me cum first,” you take his hand off your face as you speak, slipping it down to touch your clit, he groans, fucking you harder, your hand guiding his to get that perfect angle, your legs are shaking, your vision blurring.

"Feel better than her too," you're desperately crying out at that, clamping down on his thick, veiny cock. "That get you closer? Fucked up little girl, aren't you?"

"Fuck you," you are but right now you just want every thought fucked out of your head, and Sukuna’s cock is so big it’s hard to get irritated with his snarky grin in that reflection. He pulls his finger off and you gasp. “Put it back!”

“Not till I say so,” he smacks your clit hard instead, lifting you when your knees buckle like it’s nothing. “Think you tell me what to do?”

“Lost darts, such a l-loser -hah!” He scowls and fucks you harder, which was exactly your goal, pretty grin on your face that makes him pulse inside you - tightest little grip he’s ever felt.

“Crazy little brat,” he huffs, but he’s lost in you, in not just how good you feel on his cock, his tip slamming that cervix, but your little sounds, your movements, your eyes rolling back in your skull. Sukuna loves to fuck, but he’s never felt whatever psycho witch magic you’re putting on him, burying his face for a moment. “Feel s’perfect.”

“Huh? Ah!” You think you hear something, but Sukuna just bites the fuck out of your neck instead, your head falls to the side, crying out to let him finally toy with your needy, twitchy clit. “Please, there, there.”

“Needy whore,” he is spitting the meanest words but all it does is make you closer, tummy clenching with hot need, his cock ruining you for anyone – even if you’d never fucking say it. “Need it?”

“Yes, f-fuck just, keep going,” your voice is a hoarse little whisper, one of his hands is toying with a nipple, the other working your clit while his cock drags on your spot, blinding you. “Oh god…”

“That’s it, cum on your stepdad’s cock,” you glare at him, even as he chuckles against your skin, ruby eyes lit up in the mirror. “Cunt is pulsing, you love that nasty shit, admit it.”

“You’re n-nasty, shut the fuck up and – oh my god,” you’re shattering with one more thrust and roll of his rough fingers, desperately whining out while he keeps pumping. Sukuna is holding you there in that sweet spot, making you shake and quiver while your orgasm shuts off your damn brain. “Ngh!”

“Look at that, the stepdad got you squirting,” you would glare if you weren’t trembling, he’s thickening inside you, slowing his movements, letting you ride it out on his slick cock. “Damaged fucking brat, feel this good?”

“It’s the m-mental issues,” he grins and you weakly laugh, for a moment you don’t know why you hated him so much, but only a moment. "Fuck me harder."

God Sukuna thinks he’s in love right now.

“Freaky slut, just wanna get used?”

You nod, he grabs your throat and chokes you, slamming into you like he owns you, like you're just a toy for his pleasure. He's relentless, his cock hitting you in all the right places, making you feel so full, his filthy strokes so loud they’re echoing.

"F-fuck... you're gonna make me cum," he grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. "You want it?"

"Y-yes," you pant, throat constricted, your eyes wide with lust. You want to feel him fill you up, to know that you've made him lose control just like he's made you.

“Can you take it all?”

“Shut up and cum, stepdad,” you tease, but he moans then, kissing your lips all sloppy, saliva dripping with the drool that’s pooled down the side of your lips, his hot cum flooding your pussy. 

For a moment, you're lost in the haze of pleasure, the world outside the bathroom forgotten completely, so warm and dripping him already. But reality quickly crashes back in after he pumps a few more times, murmuring your name, pastel locks damp and sticking to his brow. You start to come to a bit, even drunk, and you realize what you've done. What you're still doing.

Maybe you feel just a little bad that his cum is starting to drip from your hole, but only the tiniest bit. He pulls out with a wet, suctioned pop and leaves you so empty you have to bite back the whine. You struggle to get your breath, shaking your head to clear your mind and grabbing at napkins, he smacks them out of the way, smirking and turning you to face him.

“Lemme clean up, weirdo,” he chuckles, slipping his two fingers down to where his milky seed is dripping, swirling around it until he shoves it back inside you. You gasp, head falling back, lashes fluttering shut and the soreness you already have, he just presses that cum right back in. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t waste it, you won it you know,” he pumps it up again, curling his fingers so that you almost cum again, pushing it even deeper, before pulling them out with a filthy wet squelch, sucking his own white ropes and you arousal off his fingers. He moans then, pink lashes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing.

You stare, mouth open, waiting for red eyes to focus on you. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Tasting us,” he tilts your chin up and kisses your lips, mixing both of your flavors on your tongue in the sluttiest fucking action. “Mnh…”

You both pull apart quickly when someone opens the bathroom, Sukuna has your tits put up but they’re stumbling drunk and giggling, staring at their phone. Your reality does start to hit, cursing yourself and rushing out then, adjusting your dress that he had up your thighs.

Fuck that felt too good.

Your sister calls you now, you answer as Sukuna unhurriedly steps out of the ladies room. “Yeah sis?”

“Oh my god, did you hear Sukuna is coming? Ah I loved him! I wish mom had stayed with him, you know?”

You frown, eyeing Sukuna and his shit eating grin. “Um… yeah I guess he was okay.”

“Mom still has the hots for him, wouldn’t it be romantic if she got back with him?” You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, the smallest guilt seeping in more and more, but you throw back another shot, drinking it down. “Also if you got with someone finally!”

“Yeah, I dunno about mom or me, but I’m glad for you sis,” she sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, love you!”

“Love you too,” you hang up the phone, Sukuna leans over the bar then, handing the bartender his card.

“Pay for hers too,” you raise a glass to him, his lips twitch up at the corners. “You got a ride back?”

“I’ll get an uber.”

“It’s nothing to -”

“There, got one,” you smile at him and wave the screen. “But thank you for offering.”

“Yeah,” he wants more of you, that could not be enough. He won’t say that shit out loud though. “See you at the..." he smirks now. "Rehearsal.”

“Yeah, um…” you awkwardly stand there, looking down as he looks too intently at you. “Night.”

You rush off without another word, inhaling the night air and wondering just how bad you fucked it all up.

Ryomen Sukuna

Big Sukuna by @tobio-rs Sukuna is... clingy by @fireflyschiikawa Sukuna doesn't like the silent treatment from you by @pika-toru Heianera!sukuna takes on another concubine by @epicderpface Husband sukuna since baby yuuji started walking by @fireflyschiikawa Blue collar sukuna by @eraserbread When did you get hot by @splurtz Husband!Sukuna when baby Yuuji had a nightmare by @fireflyschiikawa Heian!Sukuna writing to his upset wife by @fireflyschiikawa Sukuna hates when you leave the house by @maiigical Frat!Sukuna plays 7MIH with his secret gf by @ryoride Proprietorial by @lovelyknox

Hiromi Higuruma

Work husband higuruma by @trefacot Higuruma is the type to absentmindedly play with your pussy by @kill4ill Higuruma and reader w/ an 18+ twt by @in-the-melancholy Take Me To Church by @nyxiedreams

Suguru Geto

Alt!geto as your bf by @ryoride

Rintaro Suna

Mine by @sunee-syrup Take the Edge Off by @sunee-syrup Young by @sunee-syrup Talk Too Much by @sunee-syrup Best Friend Texts by @sunee-syrup

Hajime Iwaizumi

Ask You Something by @sunee-syrup

Keiji Akaashi

Pedestal by @sunee-syrup Genius by @sunee-syrup (I've read this probably 8 or 9 times so that should tell you how scrump it is)

Osamu Miya

Orbit by @sunee-syrup

Atsumu Miya

Casual by @sunee-syrup

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The Knot by @sunee-syrup The Great Divide by @lovelyknox (me hehe)

Midoriya Izuku