99.96%.

‘Oh’ was right.

Just his name sends a thrill down your spine.

Your fists clench in your lap, and before you know it, you’re nodding at the woman. “I would…like to meet him, please.”

.

.

.

Name: Fushiguro Toji

Age: ?*

Occupation: ??

Category: DILF

Primary likings: Rough. Manhandling. Doggy. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 8 onwards…)

*Got offended when asked (assumed mid-thirties).

One date that lasts about an hour.

One date that lasts about an hour - that’s all it takes for the boiling tension between you and ‘Mr. Fushiguro Toji’ to bubble over. Perhaps it was due to the shared knowledge that you two were scientifically identified to be perfect sexual matches, perhaps it was the way those vine-green eyes swept over you leisurely, appreciatively, as you walked into the romantic dinner date arranged by the agency.

It seems Toji had entered himself into the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT on accident after believing it was a normal matchmaking agency.

“—so imagine my surprise when I get there n’ all the questions are about what positions I like to stick my dick in?” He’d gruffed over the candlelit dinner - French cuisine, was it? A few of the other patrons glared at him, but Toji paid no attention. “I mean- I went along with it, of course. Already paid about twenty yen, hmpf…but I hadn’t actually planned to go through with this bullshit until-”

Those intense eyes of his flickered to you once more.

“-I saw that application of yours- of course.” And you felt the inchoate desire in your stomach give a strange twist—“A 99.6-”

“99.96%. Actually.” You interrupted, gnawing on your bottom lip.

“Interesting.” Toji smiled and leaned back into his chair. “Really interesting.”

And perhaps it was—

“Don’t tell me I’ve fucked ya speechless already when I haven’t even put it in?”

You’re snapping back to your senses- enough reminiscing about those first few minutes of meeting the man that was currently hugging you close to him - crushing you against his sultry sweat-sticky abs - not in a gentle display of affection, but such a lecherous embrace. Tacking his toned pelvis against your ass. Letting his engorged tip push-push-push between your pussylips and sliiiiiiiide down all those tender innards. 

Toji keeps you from moving even a single inch as he shuffles you into doggy position. The bed whines just as you do. “S’this your favorite?” He watches from the corner of his eye as you nod. “Yeahhhh, mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”

And, in emphasis, he’s circling one roughened palm over your right ass cheek—giving just a brazen little smack. 

“Mine fuckin’ too, girlie.” 

“I mean, there’s a reason they matched us.” You huff at him.

“Yeah- and I’m about to find out.” Toji mutters. And you’re hearing him before anything else - the soft creaking! of that shitty love hotel bed, dipping, as he shuffles even closer—the sultry lil’ smooch of his wet tip kissing your hole. Thump-thump-thump—you can count every pulse. His or yours? “Bite the pillow.”

“Why would I need to- ohhhh, mpf-”

The answer to your question comes swift and merciless - because in one fluid motion Toji has his cocktip burgeoning inside, and his hips plastering to yours. 

He keeps both hands - warm and slightly gnarled with callouses from whatever shady line of business he was in - firmly upon either side of your waist. Using his massive strength to jerk you back—just a little…But it feels like Toji was pumping thoroughly into your deepest core.

He was usin’ the little flare underneath his tip to stretch that snug channel- stretching and stretching that first ring of muscle. And then bashing his cockhead in so roughly that you start to wonder whether he was having issues controlling himself—you’re feeling Toji let out a little cracked groan as he feels your walls quiver around him. And then he’s pushing his hot cock in aaaaaaall the way as deep as it could go- “Aaaaaaatta girl. That’s a good girl. Now for the fun part…” 

You furrow your brows half-heartedly. “This isn’t already the fun part?” Earning yourself the oh-so-lascivious punishment of yet another spank on your right cheek; and then a few more probin’ pushes of his cock. “I was just—oh-” Your toes curl as he hits a particularly good spot without even trying.

“It is.” Toji responds. “But it’s just about to get a whole lot more fun.”

You’re shivering as one of his fingertips paint the line down your spine, immediately followed by a string of kisses as far as he could go. But, of course, you never did expect Fushiguro Toji to be so gentle—did you? You never wanted him to be, did you?

Because his lips hover ‘round the soft skin of your right shoulder—and without warning, he’s biting. Your mouth opens in a soundless scream.

With a grunt that sounds as though it’s been dragged from the primal depths of his throat, Toji jerks your hips back into his with a plap! of skin-on-skin. And almost before that, he’s suddenly starting to pummel and pummel those rugged hips of his into yours, utterly molding his thick cock into your goopy insides- coating every inch with a layer of his slick—

“Because.” Toji gruffs out in an animalistic way - he angles his head and licks a long stripe up your neck. “Because- it took me a loooooooong time to get matched on that damn program. A long fuckin’ time.”

“Oh-” You’re yelping as he tugs your arms from underneath you- and you’re collapsing face-first into the soft strawberry-scented pillows. Collapsed doggy. 

And before you know it, Toji straightens up and lets the heel of one of his feet rest on the corner of your shoulder. “Tch- way too fucking long.” This angle lets his cock penetrate even deeper, and his bouldering tip pushes into every single slick-filled orifice inside. “How long should it take to find a pretty babe f’me who likes it rough—” And he fucks you rough. “-who likes it hard—” And he fucks you hard. “-who likes me disrespectin’ this pussy like she deserves. Now how hard should that be, hm?”

And you’re unsure whether he was genuinely expecting a response or not - but you’re letting out a blabber of something you hope is comprehensible either way. “I—mmm, notthathard-”

“Exactly.” Toji huffs out a short breath of laughter. Then his hands are on you—pushing on the base of your spine and arching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

“O-ohhhhhh, harder-”

“Thought you said it wasn’t that hard? And throw in a little manhandling-” Arching. “Just a little dumbification.” Making you drool. He reaches his foot - just a little, just softly - up to put pressure on near your neck n’ restrict your air flow—he leaves you gasping and choking with every thrust. “A little choking- heh.” He looks you over. “Maybe a few daddy issues-”

“Hey!”

“And then you’ve got it. Perfectly matching. Now that shouldn’t be so hard, hm?”

But you can’t quite answer.

Because Toji’s fucking you so good- he’s thrusting his cock into yours like he wants his pelvis melded to yours ass. He’s crushing and draaaagging your limp body down the bed and into his strong arms. 

It’s almost as if your bodies are communicating with a secret language, because whenever you’re bouncing back he’s angling juuuust right to swab into your g-spot, when you’re jerking forwards he’s chasin’ after that syrupy-sweet pussy of yours. Candied with glittering globs of his pre. 

Creating a swatting sound so loud, creating a pressure between your legs so hard, that your ears start ringing—“Oh, p-please…”

“And y’know the only difference between you and me?” Toji’s still steamrolling his dirty sentences- and you can barely blink your eyes open past all the pleasure he’s giving you. But you must manage to make some noise of question, because he continues. “That agency categorized me as a DILF. And you’re no MILF…yet.”

A shockwave runs down your spine.

“Th-that means…”

Toji leans in and huffs. Clammy breath. “So that profile said something about a breeding kink?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 100.1% (?) MATCH!

“You’ve done it. I’m ah…not quite sure how- but you’ve done it.” Dr. Shoko breathes. And although the words are in her usual impervious tone of voice, there’s a quiver there at the end that, after weeks of appointments with the doctor, you’ve learned to pick out as foreign. 

Dr. Ieiri Shoko never wavers.

You’re leaning in and attempting to peek at your file. “Is there something wrong, doctor?”

“Not unless you count breaking the program’s metric wrong.” She slides over the file - face down as though the documents inside would snap at her if she wasn’t careful - and you’re immediately flipping it open. Your eyes widen as they’re immediately drawn to the bold, underlined number of a 100.1% match shown at the top of the first page—you’re then meeting Shoko’s own widened gaze.

“Huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Shoko opens her drawer and takes out two caplets of Extra Strength Tylenol and chugs them down—no water. She closes her eyes for a second to let them pass down her slender throat, and once she opens them again she’s immediately looking down at the file - as if hoping it had disappeared in the time. 

But no such luck for Dr. Ieiri Shoko today.

She lets out a prolonged sigh and leans back in her chair. Enough time has passed that the two of you could forgo such formalities in the presence of the other, “I just…I just don’t know how that could happen. Mathematically and scientifically, it just doesn’t make sense. And yet, the program never makes a mistake- never.”

You understood her plight - you’d looked over (and passed on) your fair share of matches, and the highest you’d gotten was a 78% match with some guy called Atsumu Miya—you just had this nagging feeling that you’d find a greater match.

A stronger…chemistry with someone else.

And so you’d passed. And passed. And passed, until you were starting to feel that perhaps you’d never find a match greater than the 90% or even 80% statistics that the site often boasted. That is until…

Name: Nanami Kento

Age: 27

Occupation: Office worker

Category: Gentleman with a big D.

Primary likings: Service dom. Fitting. Milk him. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 9 onwards…)

Your eyes linger on those last two words of his Primary Likings section: milk him…

And immediately you’re feeling a thrill shoot up between your legs—causing them to squeeze together, causing Shoko’s eyes to quickly flicker down at the miniscule action. “Hm.” She types something on her keyboard - and you assume she’s shooting an email to one of the matchmakers in the program. “Maybe that’s what they mean by a match of 100.1%…”

White-hot embarrassment curls around your heart. “What? Oh, you’re incorrigible-”

“And you’re glad.” She smirks. “This is what you’re been waiting all this time for, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes…” You’re looking down at the passport-sized photo of Nanami on the front page. It was seemingly some sort of office photo he must’ve used in his resumes as well; and there he stood all sharp and aloof - almost bored - in a form-fitting suit and his blond hair pushed back smoothly, deep-set eyes almost piercing through the photocopied paper. Like an utter gentleman. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”

.

.

.

“It’s okay, darling, you don’t have to take it all—”

“But I want to, Kento.”

There’s something so sensual - so utterly fucking erotic - about the way Nanami looks when he’s on the verge of pussydrunkness. Sprawled out on the love hotel mattress. Jawline dotted with your recently-made hickies. His thick thighs are tensing and untensing—just as you’re straddlin’ his hips just a little wider and taking in Nanami’s rock-hard, drippin’ wet cock.

A meek blush creeps up the man’s cheeks once you cup them.

You’re lifting Nanami’s handsome face up to meet yours, and keep such looong, loving eye contact as you’re sliding your hips down and gulping one more inch after inch. Thick inch after inch. 

The poor man’s breath catches and he’s letting out a little whimper as Nanami’s hot girth fills you up tantalizingly. “Oh sh-shit—”

Your body arches into his. “Mmm, with such a big, pretty cock like this - how could I not?”

“P-pretty…” He repeats. Those golden-hazel eyes of his widen behind his glasses, and you swear you see them welling up with tears as you take him. “But darling, what if it’s too big?”

“It could never be too big.” You cock your head with a sultry smile. “We’re a 100.1% match, remember? That means…”

In emphasis, you’re swervin’ your hips down in a semi-circular motion that makes him drive even deeper.

“-every part of us matches.”

And then poor Nanami Kento - overworked, underpaid, going off of nothing but instant coffee and the smell of freshly-baked bread from the bakery near the office - is being ridden to heaven by your devilish hips. Up and down. Up and down. The way you’re digging your nails into his shoulders…the way you’re pushing your nipples up against his pecs, rubbing…the way you’re clenchin’ around his tip - right where he was the reddest and hottest and most sensitive - every time he probes inside.

A too-loud moan erupts from his lips—and Nanami immediately attempts to clamp his mouth shut.

But there’s no use. You’re watching with a knowing smile as you’re fucking such lasvicious moans n’ ribbons of spittle out of him. With every single squeeze. 

Spit drips down the side of his mouth- and he shivers as you lean in and lick it away. “S-so that means…” He whispers. Almost to himself. Those pretty eyes of his keep starin’ down lovingly at the area you two were connected. “-this lovely lady is made for me?”

“If by ‘lovely lady’, you’re referring to my pussy…” You reply coyly. You throw your arms around him and tug on those precious golden curls at the nape of his neck. It makes a sexy grunt escape Nanami’s lips. “Then why don’t you find out?”

And Nanami doesn’t know why- he can’t help himself.

It’s just like…the more times he’s thrusting inside your cunt, semi-thrusts, the deeper he’s delving between those sweet pussylips, the more addicted he’s getting to it.

He’s reaching up and pressing down where he was fitting inside.

“Oh.” Nanami’s eyes grow heavy. Drunk on lust. A twinge of pain runs up your core as he squeezes a mere inch more, “Oh. I-is this okay?”

“Keep going.”

And he’s stretching you so much you can’t even begin to describe—

“Shiiiiit-”

“Does it hurt? I hope it doesn’t hurt-”

“No no- oh, more-”

“It’s true—” He spits. Beads of sweat plaster his temple, and his features twitch in pure carnal ecstasy as you squeeze your pretty legs tighter around him. A vein makes itself prominent on his neck. “Fuck, it’s true- she’s taking me so well-”

With a single thumb, he spreads apart your pussylips n’ watches his inches slip inside.

“And she’s so hungry for it, too.” Nanami looks up at you. “Do you think she’s been hungry for it all this time, my love? My cock?”

“Oh, I bet.” Throwing your head back—you’re practically plastered against Nanami’s surprisingly toned front. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, please- Kento—”

“Anything for you.”

And to be honest, Nanami Kento never saw himself as the wild type in bed. 

For starters, he was a busy man—spreedsheets were his regular partner, and powerpoints were his mistress. And perhaps that was the exact reason Shoko, his lifelong friend, had signed him up for this stupid program. As much as Nanami had howled and huffed about the ethics of signing one’s friend up for this and ‘but he needs to work that day so he doesn’t need to do overtime…’ lo and behold there he found you.

Well, more like you found him.

Showing up so pretty and perfect for your first meeting in Shoko’s office—and when he’d seen that match measurement of 100.1%…Nanami felt a sudden flare of madness: that perhaps this entire thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Your second meeting had been in this cramped love hotel. 

And Nanami had meant to wine and dine you- he’d meant to…but here he was. Hand clamoring to clasp either side of your hips - leaving crescent nail marks. Hips pushing off the mattress in animalistic little jerks—not even propery fucking inside, just yearning to feel the carnal squeeze of your cunt—

He hits that one spot. And he knows he does.

Because Nanami’s feeling his rotund cockhead push apart your pussylips n’ then slip somewhere deeeeep inside - one velvety bundle of nerves that makes you moan uncontrollably. Just a few inches more and he’d be hitting your coveted cervix…

And he does, but it feels like whiplash.

Because soon enough Nanami’s flipped the two of you over so that the bed dips with your combined weight, with you being manhandled onto your back, and Nanami’s cock wedging deeper into your cunt than it’s ever gone before. Inch by inch. It’s a hypnotizing mix of pain and pleasure as he marks every nook, cranny, and crevice inside you with silky dollops of pre. 

He finally fits.

And Nanami lets out a massive gasp - several - as though he’d just finished a marathon once he does so. “100.1%” He throatily repeats - whilst it feels like you’re squeezing him strong enough to milk him. You’re letting out a botched moan as he nudges against your cervix with the top of his smooth tip, smearing sprays of gooey precum—as if he’d go even deeper if he could. 

“I wonder what the 0.1% is, my love?”

You’re not getting out of here alive.

♡ GETO SUGURU - 98% (UN)MATCH!

“This is so stupid- we have no bed chemistry.”

“Absolutely no chemistry.”

“Seriously no chemistry.” 

“Not even an ounce of chemistry.”

“Then why’re you inside me?”

“Why’d you ask me to be inside you?”

“I’m the one asking the questions here-” You scoff—but you know he’s got you cornered. And by the smug expression on Geto Suguru’s stupidly handsome face, he knows that too. 

Unfortunately for him - you’re never one to back down. And so you’re slightly lifting your hips off the sweat-sodden mattress, not giving the man a second of warning before you’re clamping your silken walls down haaaaard ‘round his cock—and you try to ignore just how good - and familiar - it feels to have him inside you.

There was the thickness of his cockhead - flared the most at the base and perfect to jostle apart your slutty channel like you wanted so badly. There was one- two- three of his most prominent veins, curved down the middle of his shaft and rubbing against your pulsating soft spots. There was the arch of his erection that meant he’d not only be pushed against your cervix- but also up at the roof of your cunt. 

His breath hitches, and he’s letting his head throw back. Cute. 

And you never did expect to be matched with your stupid ex on that stupid sexual matchmaking program.

Let alone actually have sex with him again.

Let alone this be your fourth round.

Name: Geto Suguru

Age: 28

Occupation: Prefers not to say

Category: Morally grey.

Primary likings: Degradation. Spitting. Choking. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 69 onwards…)

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Dr. Shoko had commented. “Maybe a little check-up-”

“No.” You’d responded. “I’m ah- fine. It’s just—what sort of a category is that?”

“You’d be surprised what our clients are into.” She looked at you with amusement. “And, it seems, you as well.”

You shrunk in the clinic seat in shame.

And the most infuriating part of all…was that the damn program had been correct. 

Geto managed to string your body n’ your pleasure along as if it took him no effort—he’d memorized all your sweetest spots inside and it seems he’d never forgotten, he’d never hesitate before spankin’ on your throbbing clit because he already knows it’s going to set your body alight, he’d thrash and thrash his hips into yours because he was fucking angry. And you were, too.

So why did the two of you break up in the first place? Ah, let’s just say…that plans of world domination and date nights don’t go together that well.

But Geto, it seems, was a changed man (or so he said).

He’d dissolved his cult that he always refused to call a cult (or so he said). He was back to self-studying and mending his relationships (or so he said) except, of course, his one with you…

“Stop thinking about what an asshat I am, you always get that look when you think about what an asshat I am.” You’re hearing Geto scoff from above you—and he has the audacity to lean down and prod your furrowed brow relaxed. “S’gonna make me soft.”

“Join the club, I’m already dry.”

With a single - perfectly shaped - brow raised, Geto creeps his right hand down your side—letting those soft fingertips of his just lightly caress the front of your cunt. Your utterly sodden cunt. “That’s not what this pussy’s telling me?”

You’re scrambling onto your elbows. “Communication issues for two years and suddenly you’re the pussy whisperer?”

“Yes. Good that you’re catching up-” That very hand comes up to push you down—“Down, gorgeous- let’s do it my favorite position, hm?”

You scoff. “I don’t remember your favorite position.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’re you halfway down to a full nelson?”

And it was true—ah, for all your supposed pride and dignity, and the pep talk that you’d given yourself before the agency-organized dinner date that you would totally not fuck Geto Suguru no matter how handsome he looked…

But dammit, he’d worn his long hair down.

Of course, the two of you argued over your romantic dinner. Squabbling. Bickering. Making the server hold in his laughter every time you (admittedly immaturely yet albeit justifiably) swiped something off of Geto’s plate when he wasn’t looking; whatever one wanted to call it.

Of course, the two of you ended up at the love hotel a few minutes away from the restaurant; whatever one wanted to call it.

And currently you’re basking in the saturated, sickly-sweet strawberry scent bursting out in plumes from the love hotel pillows. “Eugh- I hate this smell.”

“Oh shush, you’re underneath me.” Geto got himself settled in the full nelson underneath you- and he doesn’t waste a single second before collectin’ a few trickles of slick on his right palm. He then grabs himself and coats his shaft in all the gossamer substance—pushing his perky tip against your hole. And then inside.

“O-ohhhhh—” Your voice cracks.

“Shut up, you’ve taken me more.” Geto spits- and at that very moment, you’re embarrassed to say that a carnal part of you twitches. And soon enough, he’s getting absolutely slathered in all those dewy droplets of sap that he’s missed so much since the break-up—absolutely claiming him, is what Geto likes to think. “And heh- based on what I read on your profile…me telling you to shut up just made you wetter-”

“A coincidence.” You sputter. “S-surely a coincidence.”

“Hmmm? And is it a coincidence that almost all those cute kinks on your profile were ones that I got you into?” He purrs- purrs.

“Not all- hngh, of them-”

“Maybe, but let’s be real, gorgeous—” And then Geto trails off - and it’s never a good sign when Geto trails off. Because that means- smack! As expected, his fingertips come slammin’ down until your clit’s swelling just a bit more, and his hips don’t slow down for a single second. You’re wincing as he keeps steamrolling. “-this pussy learned most of her tactics from me.”

What arrogance. Although you couldn’t lie- seeing Geto so worked up sent pangs of pleasure searing through every fibre of your body. And your favorite method to get him to shut up was to-

“Clench.” He’s gritting his teeth—hissing his words out through them, as he bucks his hips upwards- meeting your flutterin’ walls head-on with a sudden thwack! at your cervix. “Yeah- don’t think I don’t know about your secret technique-” Geto sounds crazed as he whispers in your ear, tone hitching and warbling with every second. But he still keeps going. “-and who taught you that clenchin’ so hard- clenching with the force of your core- feels so good?”

“I-I…” Saliva seeps into your mouth twofold now that Geto’s increasing his pace. He reaches over n’ licks that little splatter- 

“I-I-I-I…” Geto mocks. “I don’t think you’re being truthful, girl~”

“It was you—” You’re yowling- attempting to stand upwards to perhaps get ahold of yourself - but the only thing you’re succeeding in doing is urging Geto to wrap his left arm around your neck and draaaaaaag you right back down. 

You gasp at the sensation of his thick biceps; the firmness and strength held within them; the curves and dips of his muscles. “And who taught you that getting choked like this feels good?”

You’re so woozy- fuck, your head’s throbbing and you’re feeling the wadded-up remnants of cum Geto’s left behind from previous rounds. Harder and harder. Rougher, his balls keep slapping against the front of your sodden folds. “You…”

“And who taught you that this pussy feels better when m’being mean?”

“You—”

“And who’s getting back together with you?”

“You- wait, what?”

“Heh.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 92% MATCH!

Name: Kamo (Itadori) Choso

Age: ?*

Occupation: Student

Category: Hey, hey, hey EMO BOY!

Primary likings: Subbing. Getting pussydrunk. Shooting blanks. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 14 onwards…)

*Client became nervous after seeing the diagrams of sexual positions in the following forms and could not answer (EDIT: Later confirmed 23 but spiritually 150 (?)).

“Him?”

Dr. Shoko sits statuesquely before you. No change in her expression. Not even the slightest twitch in her fingers as she flips through your documents one more time.

After a moment of silence, she takes a deep breath and asks. “Erm- my apologies, but would I be right in assuming that you’re not attracted to hi-”

“No—no, no, no, no, no-” 

“Ah- well, that’s one way to pass on a match-”

“No- that’s- that’s not what I meant.” Red-hot embarrassment, shot through with a spike of excitement once your eyes drop down to the profile of the man once more, curdles in your chest. And you’re sure you look quite frantic attempting to rescind…perhaps everything you’ve blurted out in the past five minutes. Dr. Shoko raises a brow. “Of course, I’m attracted to him.”

A knowing smile tugs at her lips. “Oh?”

“Yeah- of course.” You cough out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Piercings glinting on his ears, snakebites on his lips, and a nervous - almost sheepish, but with a bring-your-daughter-home-at-2AM defiance - expression on his face. Just your type. “He’s perfect, actually.”

Dr. Shoko puts her documents down on the table and crosses her legs. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s just…I kinda know him?” You’re wincing. “We go to the same university- he does Japanese History, and I’ve seen him ‘round in the Anime Club.”

She hums. “Mm, you seem to know a lot about him.”

You almost sputter- “J-just as much as the average person would…But the thing is that on campus he just looks a little…different? I guess? Imagine your typical nerd—glasses, vests, knows one too many things about Tolkien, cute.” Dr. Shoko throws you a look—nerds were a close second on your list of types, okay?! And you’d always believed Choso was cute even before all this sprucing up.  “Anyways. That sort of thing.” And then you’re taking a second look at the photograph on his profile - maybe the distance would help you see him clearly? And nothing. “And now…”

Everything else matched up.

It was just in his photograph where he looked like he belonged in an early 2000’s emo band.

You let out a slight gasp. “Is he catfishing m-”

“No. Although that would be a little entertaining to see…” Dr. Shoko mutters that last part to herself- “However, Mr. Kamo has shown up to every appointment in exactly this style. Could it be that perhaps he prefers one style for university, and the other in private?”

“Probably.” You sigh. And you see that look on her face- you know that look on her face. “Oh, fine. We both know I want you to match us.”

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuck pleeeease—” Veins, reddened and irritated, snake down the expanse of Choso’s neck - and you’re not surprised. Not when Choso kept twitchin’ and bucking with every single fwop! of your cunt slamming down onto his hips, letting his cock rover deeeeeply inside.

Oh-so-deeply.

You’ve got the poor man sat up against the headboard of this crappy love hotel. You’ve got his face pushed between your tits, as you’re bouncing your hips up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Cute suctioning noises let off where he’s glued his mouth to one of your tits, letting his cheeks hollow as he suckles. “Please- ngh.” Unabashed tears roll down Choso’s cheeks, “Do you really think I can cum again?” Ending his sentence with a single jagged thrust inside your gooey depths.

“But of course.” You purr—purr. It’s enough to make Choso shudder, ravenous cock twitching. “Because I said so. And what did I say about me saying so?”

“M-mommy’s always right when she says so…” He responds- cheeks burning such a sweltering red. 

“Hah…” Leaning down you kiss him- at least, it starts off a kiss. But soon enough you have your tongue sliding across his bottom lip, playing with the sexy snake bites that pierce through the nerd’s lower lip. Always with his nose stuck in a book—you’re kicking yourself for not noticing the holes sooner. “Not so tough now, are you?”

You’ve been teasing him for what feels like eons - but in reality has been about two…maybe three…maybe seven rounds cooped-up inside this love hotel - now; and it’s enough to set Choso on all sorts of edges. Choso can’t speak. Choso can’t form a single thought. Choso can’t control his body- what the fuck he can’t…Unable to stop himself from constantly yearning that sweet pressure that comes from striking the flat surface of the back of your pussy—

His hips are stinging. But he’s still pushing and pushing and pushing. 

“Just one more, then?” He asks. Tears in his eyes.

“Awwww- you really are an emo boy. I can’t believe you had the entire campus fooled for years now.” You snicker- watching as his eyes narrow…first in exasperation, and then in ecstacy as you’re squeezing ‘round his cock. “Mhm. Just one more- mommy has to reward you for losing your virginity, doesn’t she?” You ask. Expectedly, Choso nods and nods.

That had been the entire reason for his participation in this program, it seems - the poor thing wanted to get some experience. And you couldn’t blame him—nor be nice to him. According to his profile, Choso liked it when he was fucked hard- no experience and already thinking like a freak, huh? He was definitely your type.

Tapping at your chin in an exaggerated display of thinking.

“But mommy’s wondering….where is my nerd gonna cum?”

His eyes go wide. Breath hitching, “Please-”

“I mean- maybe you could pull out and I could milk you onto the blanket—?” Dramatically, the other man’s lower lip quivers as a sob threatens to break through. So many rounds and he still hadn’t cum inside - you’d gotten him everywhere: on your stomach, on your tits, between your thighs, on your tongue. Everywhere but inside. “Hmmm. Nope.”

He perks up.

“How about my mouth again?”

Choso shakes his sweaty head.

“I wanted to- hngh—” It’s so tough for him to speak when he’s actively trying not to fall apart at the seams.

“Oh, what’s that?” Your eyes go wide. “Don’t feelin’ my mouth wrapped around your cock, Choso- is it?”

He shudders at the mere imagery of that. Every single thrust had him threatening to spill inside—those gossamer ribbons were flooding your entrance n’ starting to drip down your thighs. “No-”

“No?”

“No, no, no, no—I love your mouth-” He sputters. “-m-mommy…” And even though it’s already been so long, Choso was still wearing those chunky rings depicting skulls and such on- gliding them up and down your back soothingly. “I love every part of you. But I just really…really…really wanted to cum inside this time-” Peeking up at you through tear-stained lashes. “…if that’s okay with you?”

He looked so pretty, it was hard not to cave in then and there.

But you had to stand firm. “Nuh uh…I don’t know.” Tapping at your chin once more. “M’honestly a little hurt that you’d hide this emo side of yourself, Choso.” Leaning down to whisper into his ear- his silver studs glint. “Especially when emo boys with big dicks just make me sooooooo fuckin’ wet—”

Choso startles as though he’d been electrocuted. “I-if I’d known that then I would’ve told you in a heartbeat, mommy-”

“Ah, sweet-talking me now?” You wave. “What other secrets are you hiding, Mr. Kamo Choso?”

And it’d been a rhetorical question, something to make your poor boy squirm—honestly! But perhaps you should’ve expected that with Choso’s fried, pussydrunken brain he wouldn’t have caught onto the toying tone of your voice. That he would’ve blushed- and confessed.

“A-actually the only reason I joined was to get experience-” You raise a brow as you’d already known that. “-so that if- when I actually found the courage to ask someone out, then I’d be less likely to disappoint them in bed…”

Your lips quiver. “Oh, Cho.”

And then you’re wrapping your arms around Choso’s head - pushing his face deeper into your clammy tits, skin-against-skin - you’re running your fingers through his hair, soothing, as Choso keeps fuckin’ away into you.

You whisper against his clammy forehead, “Cum inside, baby.”

And he does with a broken groan—long, lengthy ribbons of cum decorating the interior of your cunt. “Th-thank you, mommy.” He whimpers.  They cling onto the outer ring of your entrance- which Choso has to push inside with a flicker of his thumb. The heat floods you instantly - bursts and bubbles of warmth spreading from your core, every single time that Choso twitches with another pang of pleasure- and his cockhead bursts out in cum.

Choso might be an utter sweetheart, but his cock was not-

He thwacks! out a few more creamy wads, and when he’s finally done and shooting blanks- Choso accumulates those dollops on the tip of his cock all to smear them at the bottom of your pussy. That sweet, sweet cervix.

“C-can I tell you another secret, baby?” He sobs.

“Of course, Choso.”

“You. It’s you.”

You free him from your embrace to look at him properly.

“It’s you that I’ve been wanting to ask out.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HE MATCHED?!

“Wait- who…?”

“The King of Curses.” Dr. Shoko responds with a straight face. Too straight. You needed her to crack a smile- you needed her to tell you that this was a joke. “At least—that’s what he calls himself, and we did have to track down his records to find out his actual name.”

Name: ITADORI (RYOMEN) SUKUNA

Age: 32

Occupation: ‘It’s complicated’.

Category: Rough n’ tough

Primary likings: ROUGH. Partners in lingerie. DP. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 55 onwards…)

“What does he mean by his occupation being…‘it’s complicated’?” You squint at the man’s profile.

“He wanted to put ‘King of Curses’ for that, too.” Dr. Shoko takes a long swig of her coffee. “Goodness knows I couldn’t figure that out even with a PhD. But it’s a lot more flattering than putting ‘Loitering’, isn’t it?”

“He loiters.” You ask.

“Hopefully a forgivable crime.” She nods.

And, sure, you didn’t give a shit about the loitering—what instead caught your attention was the little matchmaking measurement that was on the top of the page. Or at least supposed to be. Instead of a percentage like all your previous passes had, this time was greeted you instead was a simple note: MATCH MADE!

And underneath it was a few semi-erased notes from who you assume to be the matchmakers spelling out- ‘Thank goodness.’ ‘We thought the day would never come-’ ‘Take him off our hands, please!!’

Dr. Shoko catches you staring at them and promptly shuts your file for you. “It’s just ah- your match seems to have a bit of a…reputation here, you see?”

You ask, “A reputation? Is he some weirdo?”

“Well that’s one way of putting it…” She mutters to herself-

“What was that-”

“Nothing!” Dr. Shoko clears her throat, and smooths her mask of professionalism. “To be quite frank with you, Sukuna was one of our first clients—and we’ve been operational for quite some time now, and yet Sukuna never matched with anyone. If it wasn’t an extremely low percentage, then a match didn’t get past the interview stage- especially because Sukuna himself can be a little…intimidating. At one point we just started showing him the profiles first, expecting pass after pass.” She gives you a meaningful look. “But for the first time, it seems, the King of Curses has found himself interested.”

You don’t know how to interpret the little quirk of a smirk on her lips. “I see.” Flipping the file back open, you’re taking in those smoldering crimson eyes, that pink hair. He was handsome, that was for sure- and he sounded like such a character.

You can’t help but find yourself, perhaps, a little interested as well.

“But of course, it’s completely up to you. And I can pass this one and get some more matches lined up if-”

“Nah. No need to pass, Dr. Shoko.”

.

.

.

“Now do a little spin f’me- atta girl.”

Just about three dates - and you’d discovered that the pink-haired man honestly wasn’t too bad. A little eccentric- alright, very eccentric. He spoke in extremely old-fashioned Japanese and knew far too much about cannibalism, but other than that you thought him to be just fine. Handsome, too.

Just an hour into your romantic dinner at that one fancy French restaurant downtown. Just a glance at the nearby love hotel before you’re both huddling inside one cramped room, Sukuna tugging off his coat before he bore you with a strappy black lingerie set.

It barely covered…well, anything.

And that seemed to be just how he liked it.

Not even needing to tug those panties of yours to the side before he’s pressin’ his plump tip against your pussylips. Both so sensitive that the contact makes you hiss—and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as soon as he starts to enter. “O-ohhh-”

“Hey- hey—” Of course, it’s not long before you’re feeling one of his roughened hands come and lightly tap your cheeks. It makes you snap out of your little daze and discover that Sukuna had entered a few inches - barely halfway through - but it still felt like he was touching your deepest throat. “Ya have the King of Curses right before you and you’re not even looking at him? Tch-”

Without warning, he pummels just a little deeper. Just a tender caress of his zig-zagging veins along your wet channel-

“C’mon, woman—” Sukuna grumbles. “Literally what could be so interesting inside the back of yer skull? Look at me- look at how well m’fucking you.”

“S-so good…”  You’re blabbering out, as soon as your senses are returning. Because the stark sensation of Sukuna streaking your insides was mind-numbing - you don’t think you’ve ever taken anyone this big before. 

“Never?” Fuck- you said that out loud?! His smirk makes your heart race- honed canines all on display. “Well buck up, brat.” He taps the side of your hips - and too late does it register as a signal to fuck your hips back down onto his pummeling ones. Funneling your cunt so fucking tight with all his inches. “Because if it takes you this long ta take me regularly, then we might just be here all night trying to get you to take…heh-”

The hairs on your body raise. 

You bite down on your lower lip. “Your…second one?”

Sukuna chuckles. “No.” Reaching upwards - not caring if it’s making your hamstrings scream so deliciously at the stretch - Sukuna leans his sticky forehead against yours n’ kisses your lips. Tongue and all. He finally whispers as he parts, “It’ll be yours.”

And just a few more thrusts, a few more whack-whack-whacks! of his thickened cock reaching your deepest depths possible. He was just so big and his thrusts were just so vicious—you’re floating through a haze of pleasure when you feel it…that cold press of silicone against your precious orifice.

You’re jerking up with a yelp. “Shit- hngh, you’re putting it in now?”

“Hah? Duh.” Sukuna scoffs. “Why? Unless you don’t wish to-”

“I’m just wondering what took you so long.”

Sukuna seems stunned for one second- two. Before the King quickly snaps out of it to pleasure the sopping line of your cunt with his silicone dildo—“Dirty girl.”

Because what’d intrigued you the most on his profile was one thing: double penetration. And Ryomen Sukuna took it seriously—he’d slathered that impressive size - molded after himself, he’d told you - with a passion fruit-scented lube before starting to crown it at your entrance. The very same pussy he was stuffed in, too.

His cock throbs away wildly inside you as Sukuna squeezes- and squeezes. And you wince at the mixture of pain and pleasure - that utterly wiiiiiild stretch making your mind dazed. “Keep going.” You beg. “P-please- keep going, Kuna—”

“Kuna?” You can’t tell if he’s feigning outrage or he’s serious. He tugs your body into his- using one of your lingerie straps. “How ridiculous- fuck, and just for that- don’t expect me to go easy on ya, brat.”

And then it’s both. At the same time.

He started off nicely—surprisingly. He started off just shuffling his thick, throbbing cock behind and stuffing the orifice of your cunt with the purple-colored dildo. He started off so-

And then you’d gotten just a tad too mouthy and Sukuna’s letting the globular, slick-glazed edge of the dildo rover all over - aaaaaall around the first ring of your entrance, and then smearing apart your channel to search for your sweet spots inside. Competing - fucking competing - with his own cock to massage your spots the best. It takes one hand clawed onto your hip n’ pinning you down with all his weight to actually squirm the dildo inside you.

Shivers run down Sukuna’s spine as he feels his sensitive shaft rub against the firm silicone. Uuuuuuup rubbin’ his skin against the material. And down. Uuuuup and down. Uuuuup and down. 

Fucking you twice over. 

Such looooong and lecherous slides of your overstuffed pussy- “Look at her go.” The King drags you back using a strappy ribbon from your lingerie, glances down and snickers. “She’s just so hungry, huh?”

“C-can feel you all the way in my throat.” You whimper.

“That’s nothing, wait till you feel me in your cervix.”

And he’s bottoming out. Twice. 

“Fuck, how I’m glad you found me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY% MATCH?!

Dr. Ieiri Shoko sits before you in her office, and she looks as though she wished she was doing anything but.

Now, you’re sure this wasn’t anything personal - after all, you’ve met with Dr. Shoko for numerous appointments prior, and each time she’d been cordial if not nice. You’ve filled out all your forms. You haven’t been late to an appointment. You made sure during each appointment to be open-minded and thoughtful about your potential matches.

So…what?

What could have happened in the thirty-six hours between your last appointment (six passes that day) and the sudden frantic phone call you’d gotten this morning regarding the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT? You’d rushed over - still half-asleep and attempting to tug on your pants - as soon as you could, sure that perhaps today would be the day you find your perfect match and-

“Ehem- today is the day you’ll be looking over your perfect match.” Ah- what? Still jolted by Dr. Shoko’s sudden change in demeanor, it takes a second for the excitement to hit you. 

You gasp. “Seriously? A perfect match?”

“Well…perfect would be overselling it…” She mutters to herself- and then catches your look of confusion. “Ah- mathematically and scientifically, the numbers are perfect of course. A 99.99% match.”

“Then, what seems to be…”

“It just seems that your match is a little-” Dr. Shoko waves her hands in the air, searching for the word. 

“Eccentric?”

“No.”

“Odd?”

“No.”

“Crazy.”

“Almost.” She sighs, looking far more exhausted than the last time you saw her. Far more exhausted. The bluish splotches beneath her eyes crinkle as she grimaces, “Apologies. I’m not that good at describing Lovecraftian monsters.”

You chuckle- before you realize. “Wait, what?”

“But—onto the profiles, we don’t have all day and I have about thirty more appointments.” She shoots you a look. “And none of them above 60%, I fear.” Then turning towards her second door - the one connecting her office to one of the building’s laboratories - she calls. “You can come out now!”

The door clicks open immediately- as if whoever was on the other side had been waiting impatiently to be called, fidgeting, hand already on the door handle.

And in walks a tall, white-haired man—although he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so, wearing a sterile white scientist’s coat and thin-rimmed glasses. There were a few Digimon stickers on his shoes, and his name tag read: PROF. GOJO SATORU.

He was cute- you had to give him that.

Dr. Shoko takes one look at your face and sighs.

You’re immediately straightening up. “E-erm, hello.” And the man bows rapidly- sputtering out greetings and introductions a mile a minute, that you don’t even catch them. “Ah…I believe you have my match profile?”

The other woman smacks her forehead. “He is your match profile.”

You gape. “What?”

Gojo practically beams- fuck, he really was too cute. He immediately reaches over and grasps your hand—then unabashedly kisses the back of it. Such a loud mwah! “Your pleasure to meet me, sweetheart.”

From the corner of your vision, you see Dr. Shoko download a resignation letter template. “Please…you’re all he’s been talking about for the past two days-”

“Like a true romantic~” Gojo trills.

“-pass on him and put us all out of our misery…please. I beg of you.”

You look at the miserable Shoko- and then you look at Gojo.

.

.

.

“So…” Gojo’s breath sticks to the side of your neck, utterly syrupy, and his cock sticks to the goopy insides of your cunt. 

They wouldn’t have been able to pull him out with a wrench, he can tell you that much-

Because you were swallowing him up whole—little mewls leaving the gap between your lips, little dribbles of slick going down the corners of your mouth - ones he’s nearing towards and licking right off your face. Gojo’s chunky glasses crush against the side of your temple. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh. “-it seems I have fallen victim to my own creation.”

Gojo Satoru had you pushed against his clinical desk; it’d been long since Dr. Shoko had wrapped-up your first meeting (and gone to take a lay-down on her examination bed). Meanwhile Gojo had valiantly volunteered to give you ‘an insightful and educational’ tour around the laboratories.

The first place he took you to was his private office.

…The first place he took you to, neither of you could keep your hands off each other.

“Th-the program?” You’re babbling. Your hands grasp the edge of his desk- a plumage of documents soar upwards as you’re struggling and failing a few times- he was just fucking you so good. “How are you falling victim—”

“Because when I wanted to figure out a way to lose my virginity, I didn’t expect it to be this good—!” Gojo bursts out in confession. And you’re feeling the full impact of his statement- and the rough slam of his cockhead against the back of your pussy.

“S-so this was all…” Your mouth gapes - and you’re not quite sure whether it was because of the sudden confession, or the increasing force of his hips. “-a scheme to pop your cherry?!”

“Erm, actually- I wouldn’t say scheme—” Gojo huffs. Those thick-framed glasses of his kept sliding down his nose due to the force of his thrusts, and he was smearing his pretty face against your shoulder to keep pushing it up. “I am- was a virgin, heh…”

He takes a glance down at where the two of you were sloppily connected - those swollen folds of yours spread so wiiiiiide open around his long cock - and instantly, he’s hypnotized.

For a beat.

Two.

“—Satoru.” Honestly- you have to give him a good clench to snap him back to his senses. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve kept funneling you full of his cock until one or both of your bodies gave out—he just seemed addicted. Tingling with desire. He wanted you. He needed you. 

Every single second he was reeling his hips back- Gojo was angry just until he could rover his thickened inches back inside n’ bash your very cervix. Again. And again. And again and again. 

And Gojo’s pushing his glasses up with a huff. “What if I was having a telepathic conversation with your pussy?”

You gape. “Shoko’s right, you’re crazy-”

“Yeah yeah-” He sighs as if he’s heard that one before. Many, many times. With a roll of those blue eyes, Gojo keeps explaining - not slowing down for a single split-second. “I was a virgin with too much time between my extra credits and three honors degrees, okay? So instead of being a lunatic and going out to actually meet people, I did what any sane person would do…” 

“Create the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT-”

“I created the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT!” It was almost…cute just how passionate he was getting. And it certainly helped that the more excited he got, the more his twitchin’ tip splurged out precum. Flinching it into all sorts of little hidden spots inside you—“A cutting-edge matchmaking system that pairs partners’ sexual proclivities-”

He leans against you- and it feels like a furnace, in the best way. Gojo’s blushing cheek against yours. Gojo’s aching cock against your cunt. 

He’s scouring the silken depths of your cunt and ramming into that one spot- “The Gräfenberg spot.” Gojo titters to himself. “Erm- I did my reading…” By now he wasn’t even pulling his hips off of yours- glued to those stinging ass cheeks of yours, he’s plasterin’ every nook inside you with his precum. “And the fact that we’re a near-100% match must mean one thing—” 

Gojo cums from pure excitement.

He cums from pure excitement. White-hot pouring into the depths of your cunt, slathering it in an oily layer of his cum.

You almost don’t dare to ask. “And wh-what does that mean?”

“That next I must make a pregnancy program!”

Too caught up in the moment; the two of you don’t register the light buzz of your phone.

A text from Shoko.

A/N. IDK why working on their profiles was so unserious shsdhsd-

One one hand, she did everything in her power to cater for you, trying to make your stay pleasant and offering emotional support. But on the other, her constant presence offered a reminder of everything that you had lost. 

Being with her resurfaced endless happy memories from your childhood with the two of them - catching crabs in buckets on the beach, watching fireworks from the top of a nearby hill, your dad teaching you how to surf on the mellow waves on the beach mere meters from the house. 

Those memories often weighed heavy on your heart, a bittersweet feeling overtaking you whenever your mother would recall a treasured moment together. You knew that she was trying to help, that she was eager to focus on all the happy times, to give you pleasant memories rather than ones of your father’s ultimate demise. 

But that didn’t make it any less difficult - the weight of all the good times that you could never have back scraping at your skin. 

Regardless, you couldn’t blame her too much for bringing those things up, even when it hurt you. It was important that you kept in mind that she was grieving just like you were, and likely wanted to tell those stories for her own benefit just as much as yours. One day you’d be grateful for all the time the two of you spent remembering him in these precious months spent in Kyushu. 

That was what you needed to remember whenever the grief started to creep in. 

A lot of the time you were by yourself, with your mom spending her days at work. You made the most of it all the same, rising early each morning when your mom would head out of the door, spending the first few hours of your day watching lecture recordings and ensuring that you kept on top of all of your uni work. You’d still take your exams at the end of the semester and you didn’t want to fall behind. 

In the afternoons, the world was your oyster. You’d usually go out for a long walk on the beach not far from your mother’s house, letting your toes sink into the sand, appreciating the lingering warmth that would’ve fled Tokyo by now with the changing of the season. Often, you’d find a pleasant rock to sit on and spend hours losing yourself in some book. 

Lately, you’d been reading the Natural History of Dragons series by Marie Brennan, which gave you ample opportunity to imagine yourself in some fantasy world in which you were a bold dragon researcher, far removed from the tragedy that had plagued your reality. 

When you weren’t reading, you’d use the binoculars that you’d kept in the Kyushu home since your childhood, scanning the waves for signs of sea life. You had the luck of a fair few dolphin viewings under your belt, although it was seals that you encountered much more regularly. It put you at ease to watch them playing together in the bay. 

You’d tried on numerous occasions to take videos of them to send to Sukuna, but they always just showed up as black smudges in the distance via your phone camera. It was something that frustrated you greatly because they looked so clear from where you were standing, you could never understand how it translated so poorly onto your phone. 

Sukuna would just have to wait until he came to visit for the pleasure of seeing them. 

He was the one drawback to your life down in Kyushu. Because as much as you were enjoying your time away from the city and the weight that came with it, you found yourself missing Sukuna to a near unbearable extent. He’d become such a fixture in your life over the last few months - always there at your side, always offering support whenever you needed it. 

It was lonely without him there with you, leaving you wishing that you could brush your fingers against his when you were taking one of your walks on the beach, snuggling yourself up against a plushie at night and imagining that it was him there next to you. 

It helped that he made a constant effort to stay in contact with you, texting about his day, sending you funny pictures and videos, and calling you almost every night. The evenings spent on Discord playing video games together made it almost feel like those days where he’d been staying at your apartment, with you watching him play God of War. 

But it still wasn’t enough for you. 

You wanted him physically at your side, to feel the warmth of his touch that you’d been yearning for since your first week apart. Ever since he’d agreed to come and see you during reading week, you’d been counting down the days to his arrival, excitedly crossing off your calendar each morning. 

It was late November when he finally arrived. You’d practically sprung out of your seat when there’d been a knock on the door, much to your mother’s amusement. Pulling the door open, you’d wasted no time flinging yourself into his arms - up on your tiptoes with your arms stretched up around his neck, with his hands coming to rest gently on your waist. 

“Hey, baby.” He hummed, a smile stretching across his tattooed face. 

“Hey.” You breathed, flushing softly as you pulled back to look at him properly. 

He looked more handsome than ever, wearing baggy green cargo pants and a black thrasher hoodie, reminiscent of the ones that you’d often seen Choso wear. He had a black backpack slung over his shoulder, adorned with various pins and patches. His pink hair was a little tousled in a cute way, as if he’d been sleeping on it funny during his journey here. 

Leaning down, he captured your lips with his, pulling you close to him once more. It was the kind of kiss that stole the breath from your lungs - filled with need and yearning that had been built up over the span of months. You only drew back at the sound of your mother clearing her throat, regarding the two of you with a bemused smile. 

Flushing, you ushered Sukuna in, dropping your gaze down to the floor in embarrassment as your mom greeted your boyfriend. “Nice to meet you properly, Sukuna.” She said, entirely too smug. “We didn’t get much of a chance for real introductions at the funeral. Although, I feel like I know you pretty well based on how much my daughter talks about you.” 

If possible, you reddened further. “Come on, mom.” You grumbled. 

“What? It's a compliment to him, isn’t it?” She said with a smile. 

Sukuna was pursing his lips, clearly doing his best not to start laughing. He was used to watching your dad go out of his way to tease you, but he obviously hadn’t expected for your mom to be the same. He was probably wondering how you ended up so shy when both of your parents would pull stuff like this. 

Maybe it was because of the way they were. 

“It is a compliment.” He agreed with a shit-eating grin “Please tell me more about what she’s said about me.” 

You rolled your eyes, wishing you could sink into the floor as your mother laughed, patting him on the shoulder affectionately. “Oh I can see why her father liked you!” You bit down on your lip, the weight of that statement heavy in your chest. 

As if realising what she’d said, your mom was quick to change the subject. 

“You must’ve had a long journey coming here on the train?” 

“It wasn’t too bad. Definitely worth it.” He said with a shrug, shooting you a sly look that had butterflies swarming in your stomach. 

Your mom turned to you, sensing that you were getting fidgety.

“Honey, why don’t you show Sukuna where your room is so he can put his stuff down - I’ll get dinner on the table.” 

Nodding, your fingers curled around Sukuna’s wrist, tugging him the direction of the stairs, eager to get out of the situation as fast as possible. You’d never really minded the tendency of either parent to tease you, but this time it had you feeling a little wistful. You should’ve had these kinds of interactions with your dad, but now you never would. 

It hurt to think about. 

“Everything okay?” Ever-perceptive, Sukuna noticed the way you faltered ever so slightly as you pulled him into your room. 

“Yeah.” You said, turning to glance at him, heart picking up as you met his gaze. How you’d missed getting to admire those crimson eyes. “I just- when she does that stuff, it reminds me of my dad, that’s all.” 

Sukuna wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. You took a deep breath, appreciating the way that his comforting scent filled your nostrils. Your brain felt like it was going haywire being so close to him once again. You’d forgotten how comforting it was to be in his arms. 

One of his hands found its way to your hair, stroking the strands gently. “Yeah, they’re kinda similar, huh? I was surprised.” 

You giggled. Your parents were remarkably similar. You imagined that was what had attracted them together in the first place, finding a mirror in the other. Unfortunately, their similarities were ultimately their undoing, because where their best features aligned, so did their flaws. 

It's hard to be with someone who reflects all the worst parts of yourself. 

At least they were both mature enough to call it quits before things got too ugly between them. You believed that they still loved each other right up to the end of your father’s life - they just knew that they couldn’t stay together without resentment building. 

It was better that way. You didn’t want parents who couldn’t even look at each other - it was clear that was the experience that Sukuna had dealt with, and it sounded miserable. 

“Yeah, really similar.” You agreed. 

“She’s not gonna try and show me her baseball card collection is she?” 

“No, you’re safe. She might show you her soaps though.” 

“Her soaps?” Sukuna asked, shooting you a quizzical look. 

“She saw this YouTube video about how to make soap at home. She has this whole etsy business that she runs out of the shed. The smell in there is crazy.” You explained. 

You’d only been into the shed once in your stay here, and that was enough for you - the overpowering odour left you with a headache for days. 

“Okay, well I’m gonna have to see that.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t ask her about it, you’ll never get her to stop talking. She’ll make you go into the shed while she talks you through every single one and you slowly suffocate to death. She’ll probably give you some of her rejects to take home too.” 

“Well, that sounds ideal.” He chuckled, releasing you from his grasp now that you seemed to have sufficiently recovered from your melancholy. “I can use them as souvenirs to placate Satoru.” 

“You have to get Satoru a souvenir?” You asked. 

Sukuna sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He said that he would be upset if I didn’t, since he got me something on his holiday.” 

You tilted your head in interest. “What’d he get you?” 

His shoulders fell, as if it was a topic that he’d rather leave undiscussed. Slowly he shrugged his backpack from his shoulder, placing it down on your bed. With an expression that was clearly disgust, he pointed to a keychain hanging off the zipper. 

It was a bright blue, shiny thing - completely out of keeping with Sukuna’s usual tastes and colour palette, standing out amongst all of his more grungy patches and pins. On it was a crudely drawn image of a bird which you assumed was a blue tit - purely on the basis of the three words under the drawing which read: I love tits. 

You couldn’t help the giggle that ripped through you, doubling over as you covered your mouth. Satoru had certainly gone out of his way to find something that Sukuna would hate. “That’s awful.” You said between laughs. “Why do you actually have it on your bag though?” 

“Satoru threw a fit this morning when he saw I was leaving and didn’t have it on my bag. Made me go and get it. It was lucky I hadn’t thrown it away because imagine the lecture he would’ve given me.” He said with an eye roll. 

Satoru was funny to you. It was hard to tell if the tantrums he’d throw at Sukuna came from a genuine place or if he simply knew how to play your boyfriend even better than you did. You supposed that if you were to give Sukuna a terrible gift he would still pretend to like it to spare your feelings unlike the outright displeasure he’d show to Satoru. 

“Anyway, you want it? You can have it.” He continued, tugging the keyring off his bag and holding it out to you. 

“I don’t want that.” You said with a giggle, pushing his hand away. “Although considering how much that sucks, I feel like giving him soap isn’t the play. Let’s find him something really terrible.” 

You had a whole week planned with activities for Sukuna’s stay, you were certain that you’d be able to find a crappy souvenir shop that could produce something terrible for him to give the man. 

“I uh, actually got you a gift.” Sukuna said, almost bashfully. 

“Is it a bird keychain? Because if it is, I don’t want it.” 

“No.” He rummaged around in his bag for a few seconds before pulling out a small item wrapped up in pink tissue paper. Pushing the paper aside once he’d dropped it into your outstretched hand, you stared down at a small velvet box. 

Had he bought you jewelry? Now you felt bad that you hadn’t got anything for him. If you’d known that he would do this, you would’ve gotten him something. 

“Quit thinking.” He said, flicking you lightly on the forehead. “Open it.” 

Flipping the box open, you let out a little gasp at the sight of the necklace sitting inside. It had a silver chain, with its central feature being a teardrop shaped red gem, one uncannily similar to the deep hues of Sukuna’s eyes. He was studying your reaction carefully, nibbling on his lip as you pulled the jewelry from its box. 

“This is beautiful.” You breathed, holding it up to the light to admire the way that the gem shone. This was the first time in your life that you’d ever been gifted jewelry. In all the time that you and Hiromi had been together, he’d never thought to do such a thing. 

“I thought it would suit you, I always like it when you wear red.” 

“I love it.” You breathed. 

It was a shame that you didn’t have much occasion to wear it in your current state - you were generally in the house wearing your most comfortable clothes with no one to admire your new necklace. You’d have to get some good wear out of it while Sukuna was here with you. 

“Can I put it on you?” He asked, his hands gently reaching for the delicate chain. You released it to him, turning and raising your hair to allow him easier access. You were glad that you’d opted to wear black today - it would allow the necklace to stand out perfectly against your clothes. 

The gem felt weighty as it pressed against your sternum, goosebumps rising as the chain skimmed against your skin. Sukuna’s breath fanned against you while he fumbled with the clasp, the intimacy of the moment making your breath hitch. 

Once it was secured, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your neck, arms wrapping snugly around your waist. “I really missed you.” He mumbled into your skin. 

“I missed you too.” 

Turning around to look at him, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him sweetly. The way that he eagerly kissed you back, drawing you against him possessively, had your heart fluttering desperately. After all this time it would be nice to just stay like this for a while, taking care to remember the feeling of his lips. 

But as much as you wanted to spend the rest of the evening in your room, showing Sukuna just how much you’d missed him, you couldn’t quite forget the fact that you were staying at your mother’s house, and therefore not free to do whatever you pleased as you normally would. 

Instead, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, indulging yourself in your mom’s special homemade crab ramen that she only bothered to make for special occasions, trying your best not to laugh at how flustered Sukuna seemed to be getting as your mom fired off a hundred questions at him. 

You liked to think that your dad would be proud of her. 

She covered almost every possible topic under the sun, starting with the basic questions about what he studied at university and his hobbies, before delving into far deeper topics like the complexities of Sukuna’s family, how he’d come to know your dad, and just what his intentions were with you. 

None of her questions were in bad faith - you were certain that Sukuna knew that, but she’d always been both intense and nosy, and you were pretty sure the barrage had Sukuna on the backfoot - something that you weren’t really used to witnessing. It was almost enjoyable to see him squirm while you remained a blissful observer to the conversation. 

Of course, that didn’t last for too long because Sukuna eventually found his footing and ended up pushing the conversation in the direction he wanted by asking your mother if she had any childhood pictures of you. 

There was nothing that she loved more than pulling out the photo albums, and you barely had time to protest, practically choking on your mouthful of crab as she rushed over to the cabinet gleefully, gushing over how glad she was that he’d asked. 

Sukuna had shot you a smug look which told you this was something he’d been wanting for a while. 

Of course it was, because you’d equally love to see pictures of your terrifying boyfriend as a mere child, keen to know at what point he grew into looking as intimidating as he did. However, you weren’t keen on him seeing your pictures, because in most of them you looked like a total dork. 

Not that your desires would ever stop your mom from showing a willing participant endless photos of her daughter that she was just so proud of. Even if you did look stupid and awkward in over half the photos, she saw them as endearing. 

And to be fair - so did Sukuna. 

His eyes lit up as your mother talked him through each album. She started off with the baby pictures, cooing at images of you swaddled up in a blue blanket when they’d first brought you home from the hospital. Those were quickly replaced by the ones where you were a toddler, standing on unsteady feet in various places, usually with a bashful expression on your round face. 

The majority of the pictures were from when you were a little older though, between the ages of five and ten, just before your parents got divorced. It showed you on numerous different holidays and outings, usually wearing some poorly colour coordinated outfit with a silly graphic on it. For the most part you’d have a big goofy smile on your face, laughing at one thing or other - most likely at your dad, who dominated a lot of the pictures. 

Your mother was the photographer of the family, generally always behind the lens, meaning that your dad was almost always in the frame - holding your hand, or looking down at you adoringly. It had your heart wrenching for a moment, biting down on your lip to try and stop the sadness from creeping in. 

Sukuna was quick to save your mood though, taking your mind off things as he laughed heartily at one of the photos. 

“This one’s so cute.” 

You leant over to see what he was looking at, smiling at the sight of you at 8-years-old, standing in knee high water, wearing a fishing bib and holding a tuna that was almost bigger than you were. You had two small arms wrapped around the scaly beast, most likely struggling with its weight, but your face was adorned with a big lopsided grin - one which proudly displayed several missing baby teeth. 

“Ah, that damn fish! We were supposed to eat it for dinner but you threw such a fit that we ended up releasing it.” Your mom said, exasperated. “We ended up with nothing but rice to eat for the evening.”

“So you’ve always been soft, huh?” Sukuna teased, nudging you with his arm. 

You had always been soft. As much as you were fascinated by animals, and had enjoyed the process of fishing, you didn’t like the idea of ending something’s life - at least at your own hands. 

Sukuna took out his phone and snapped an image of the photo, shooting you a mischievous grin that told you he would be referencing this image in the future. You didn’t mind - it certainly wasn’t the most embarrassing one there. 

The desire to hide away overtook you when you did finally get onto the more humiliating segment of the photobook - your early teenage years. 

It was a mess of bad outfits, questionable haircuts, acne, and solemn expressions. You’d not been what anyone would’ve considered to be a cool teenager - on the contrary, you’d been something of a stereotypical nerd. But that didn’t stop Sukuna from quietly flipping through the album with a soft look on his face, as if endeared by your past dorkiness rather than judgemental of it. 

It didn’t stop an anxious assertion from jumping up your throat though, wringing your fingers together nervously. “We probably wouldn’t have ended up together if we met in high school, huh?” 

“Don’t be dumb.” He said easily, not even bothering to entertain the self-deprecation in that statement. “I still would’ve found you cute if we’d met back then.” 

You caught the way your mother’s face lit up at his excellent response, shooting you a look that told you she was very approving of his words. It was nice to know that Sukuna was doing such a good job of impressing her - not that you really had any doubts in your mind where it came to that. If Sukuna could charm your dad, he’d have no problem doing the same with your mom. 

Flipping further through the album, you watched as the time gaps between pictures grew larger, demonstrating big jumps in age as you stopped spending as much time with your mother. Your father all but disappeared from the album, save for a lovely picture of the three of you at your high school graduation. 

You supposed that your university graduation would only feature you and your mom. 

“We’ll have to take some pictures with you this week, Sukuna.” Your mom said quickly, sensing your line of thinking. “Still loads of space in this album!” 

Offering her a soft smile, you nodded slowly. “Yeah. We will.” 

Later that evening, you found yourself curled up in Sukuna’s arms. By the time your mother had finished going through all the photos it had grown late and you’d all retired for the evening. The two of you were huddled up under your blankets, shielding each other from the late November chill. His breath was warm against the top of your head, his presence soothing you. 

“Sorry my mom’s so intense.”

He chuckled. “Nah, she’s fine. I wasn’t expecting to be asked to recall the name of my childhood cat though! It almost came across like she was trying to hack an account of mine or something.” 

“I’m surprised she didn’t ask for your mother’s maiden name too.” You said joining in with his laughter. 

Your mother was the type of person who liked to know everything about everyone, talking away even to her own detriment - but it was always well-meaning. You were glad that Sukuna hadn’t felt too overwhelmed. 

“How are you doing though?” He asked, stroking your hair. “You looked a little distant at dinner.” 

“I’m okay.” You said, nuzzling your face into his chest and muffling your voice ever so slightly. “It's just still a little hard when she brings out the photos and stories.” 

He was silent for a few beats. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to see them.”

“No! No, it's fine.” You said hastily, looking up at him. It wasn’t his fault by any means and you certainly didn’t want him to feel bad. “I know I’d wanna see yours so…”

He hummed, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’m sure my dad would love to show you when you come and visit - probably for the purpose of highlighting how much of a bad kid I always was. He’ll probably pull you aside and ask if I’m holding you hostage. 

“I’m sure that’s not what he thinks.” 

Considering your recent meeting with Wasuke, you were certain that your boyfriend’s view on things wasn’t quite accurate. Wasuke didn’t come across as particularly hostile or disappointed in Sukuna, save for an atmosphere of desire for his son to call him more. In your mind, that was the opposite of hatred. 

“I mean, I was a bad kid.” Sukuna laughed. “There’s all these pictures of me and Jin where he looks like an angel and I’m like, covered in mud and wearing the nastiest expression imaginable.” 

You smiled at the thought of that, able to almost picture it in your head. Sukuna had often highlighted how wild of a kid he was - it was clear that he’d mellowed out significantly upon reaching adulthood, but the chaotic edge that had marked his childhood was still there, just a little more honed now, prevalent only in certain situations. 

Situations that you generally weren’t privy to. 

You hadn’t mentioned it to Sukuna, but you’d heard from Satoru that your boyfriend had thoroughly put that mean cheerleader, Yorozu, in her place. Satoru had recounted to you the exact words that Sukuna had used in putting her down, which had you a little surprised because it strayed so far from the sweet nature that he displayed to you. 

Not that you disliked it by any means. You were glad that he’d stand up for you, and you liked that you seemed to be the only person who got this sweet side of him. The only person who got to see beyond his toughened exterior. 

“I bet you were still so cute back then though - mud and all.” You said. You imagined that he had a comparable image to the one of you holding the big fish, although unlike you, you imagined that little Sukuna would’ve been more than happy to eat whatever animal he caught with no remorse. 

“Oh, still so cute? You think I’m cute now?” He was peering down at you, a smug grin fixed on his handsome face. 

“Obviously?” 

He probably wasn’t the type of person most would describe as cute - hot would be a more appropriate term to use. But that didn’t stop you from thinking that he was, with his soft pink hair and pretty crimson eyes. 

For a moment he seemed almost caught off guard, looking down at you like he wasn’t expecting a genuine answer. His comment had likely just been simple teasing after all. You felt the arm resting around your waist tighten ever so slightly, pulling you closer to him. 

“Mmm. If you say so.” 

It was a nonchalant response, but you could see the pink dusting his cheeks even in the low light of the glow-in-the-dark plastic stars on your bedroom ceiling. Shifting ever so slightly, you rested your hand on his shoulder, huddling yourself closer against his warm body, letting him maneuver you as he pulled your weight fully onto him. 

“I think you’re much cuter.” He mumbled against your ear, your own cheeks flushing in return at how deep and raspy his voice sounded, lowered in the way it was. It had a fire igniting in your gut, one that you desperately tried to ignore, unwilling to satisfy such an urge knowing that your mom was in the next room over. 

Knowing your mom and her disregard for boundaries, you wouldn’t be surprised if she outright brought up any sounds she heard, which was a humiliating fate you were desperate to avoid. She’d already given you a long lecture about making sure you were being safe, and frankly you’d be happy to never talk about your sex life with your mother again. 

For that night, your desires would just have to wait. 

It wasn’t the end of the world - with the two of you heading off on a little Kyushu roadtrip together over the next few days, there’d be plenty of time for the two of you to meet your needs after all this time apart. 

For a few minutes, the two of you lay in silence, all tangled up together. Your face was buried in Sukuna’s shoulder, feeling relaxed as one of his hands trailed carefully up your spine, the other playing with your hair as he always loved to do. Even though you’d grown familiar with his touch, it still never failed to have your stomach swarming with butterflies. 

“I’m gonna help you forget all the sad stuff this week.” He said, squeezing you softly. “I’ll put that pretty smile on your face every chance I get.” 

—

Over the next week, you and Sukuna travelled all over Kyushu in your mom’s car that she’d kindly lent to you for a few days. It had been a long time since you’d spent time moving around the island and seeing the sights, and it felt lovely to revisit all the places that had amazed you as a child, now with fresh eyes and Sukuna at your side. 

You’d started off in Fukuoka, spending a couple of days in the city, eating food and visiting art galleries. It was surprising how overwhelmed you felt away from your serene life in your mother’s house, having grown accustomed to the peace and quiet of the beach and the small town that lay nearby. Considering that you’d be going back to Tokyo in a month or so, it was important that you got used to crowds again. 

You and Sukuna spent lots of time taking breaks and having drinks in nice cafes to escape the overwhelming amount of people in the city, allowing you to recharge and get a handle on your anxiety. Perhaps if you were by yourself it would’ve been harder, but with Sukuna there distracting you with jokes and conversation, your focus on the crowds began to dissipate. 

It allowed you to fully enjoy all the touristy things you were doing without your heart beating out of your chest - wandering around beautiful parks, visiting observation decks, meandering around aquariums - completely content with your hand entwined with Sukuna’s. 

Despite the crowds, you even found it in you to brave every shitty souvenir shop in sight, spending a full afternoon on the hunt for something truly terrible for Sukuna to buy for Satoru. It was a fun game, the two of you on a total mission to find a diamond in the rough, an effort that ultimately paid off when Sukuna stumbled across something horrific. 

It was a keychain with a felt clown attached to it. The lady working at the shop had tried to convince you that it was supposed to bring good fortune to the gift recipient, but you and Sukuna both doubted that was the case. 

The thing was terrifying, with bulging button eyes and a drawn-on red line for lips which looked entirely too much like blood. The colours of its jester’s outfit were muted, like some forgotten toy in a haunted orphanage. It was the kind of figure that looked like it would come to life at night and watch you while you slept. 

It was a perfect gift for Satoru by Sukuna’s standards. He knew that his friend had a long-lived fear of the movie Coraline and he’d hate this doll. 

Perfect revenge. Well worth the trip to Fukuoka. 

After a few days in the city, the two of you headed out to your next stops on the Kyushu tour, consisting of several beautiful national parks. It was the perfect time to visit, with the trees undergoing their autumn transformation, leaving the ground strewn with red and orange leaves. 

You took Sukuna to your favourite gorges and waterfalls, sharing stories about your experiences visiting these places as a child - how things had changed in the time that you’d been absent. 

It felt intimate to be able to share such precious remnants of your childhood with him. 

Later in the week you brought him to one of your favourite places on the island - the onsen town of Kannawa, where the two of you spent a couple of days in a ryokan. It was a nice little place, one owned by a friend of your mother, who greeted you with open arms, commenting on how much you’d grown. 

The last time you’d visited the ryokan you must’ve been around ten years old, and you found yourself impressed that it still looked the same as you remembered - although, the owners did seem to have aged quite a bit. 

Your mother had gone all out, arranging for you to be housed in one of their nicest rooms - set up in a japanese style with futons laid out on the tatami, with sliding doors leading out into a beautifully maintained garden. The biggest attraction of the room came from the outdoor hot spring, steam rising up from it invitingly. 

It was evening time when you’d first arrived, and subsequently you ended up changing into the provided yukatas and going straight to dinner, which you were able to appreciate much more than you had as a child. Its elaborate nature had been lost on the tastebuds of a ten year old who would much rather eat a bowl of ramen than several courses of delicately prepared food. 

Sukuna seemed particularly comfortable with the situation, asking the host all kinds of questions about the food and where it was sourced from. She seemed thrilled that he was taking such an interest, going into detail about how they prepared their menu and came up with unique dishes. 

Even though you were aware that Sukuna was a highly capable chef, considering how often he’d cooked for you when staying at your house, you hadn’t really cottoned on to just how knowledgeable he was when it came to culinary matters. You’d questioned him about it when the host had disappeared to get the next course, leaving the two of you alone. 

“I guess I’ve always been interested in food.” He said with a shrug. “When I was a kid I was super interested in these knives that my dad had, but he’d only let me touch them if I was cooking under his supervision so…”

Your brow furrowed as you repressed a laugh. “What do you mean you were always interested in knives?” 

“I don’t know, it was one of those taboo things. I was always told not to touch them so I wanted nothing more than to touch them.” 

That didn’t come as much of a surprise to you, it was clear that Sukuna had been rebellious since birth - it was a miracle that he was so well-adjusted, you could only imagine that was largely in part to Wasuke’s persistence. Even when his son acted out and did things like changing his own surname, Wasuke was still there for him, doing his best for his troublemaker son. 

Sukuna was well-adjusted because despite all his attempts to be hated, he was raised with nothing but dedicated affection. No matter how much he disliked Wasuke’s strict nature, there was no denying that his father was there for him. 

“Anyway, at some point I realised that it became less about wanting to hold the knives and more about genuinely enjoying cooking.” He continued. 

“I always wondered why the stuff you made me tasted so good - I assumed that I was just bad at cooking.” 

He pulled a face. “Two things can be true, baby.” 

It wasn’t like you were all that phased by his comment. Even though you were a fantastic baker, you couldn’t really claim any culinary skill or understanding outside of that bubble. Where savory meals were concerned, you’d never really been bothered with learning or experimenting, often too busy to cook and opting for convenience store meals. 

The worth had only become apparent to you following the start of your relationship with Sukuna, in which he cooked you some of the best meals you’d ever had, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel as exhausted as you usually would. 

“Maybe you should be a chef, then?” You suggested. 

“Being an engineer would pay more. Plus it feels like a waste to have spent three years studying to then do something entirely different.” 

“Loads of people do it though.” 

You could understand his sentiment, but he certainly wouldn’t be the first person to finish university and then do a complete u-turn on how to live his life. If he’d be happier as a chef than as an engineer, it would be worth it. 

“Mmm, we’ll see.” 

“I’d be the number one patron at your restaurant.” Your smile was wide, enjoying the fantasy of showing up at some swanky place that he owned and being given the best table. 

He laughed. “You wouldn’t need to be - I’d be cooking for you at our home.” 

The ease with which he said that, as if it was a given that you’d one day be sharing a house, had all the air freezing in your lungs. It wasn’t a question that you’d dared to ask, even if it was something that you wondered about frequently - what was going to happen to your relationship once the two of you graduated in the spring?

From your point of view, his easy statement affirmed that he had his own thoughts on the matter - thoughts that hopefully aligned well with yours. Because even if you had no idea what sort of life you wanted to live after graduation, you knew that at the very least, you wanted to figure it out at his side. 

The question of ‘what does our future look like’ was slowly forming in your mind, on the tip of your tongue and promptly dissipating at the reappearance of the host bringing out your dessert course, filing away the conversation for another day. 

There was still plenty of time before graduation, you could discuss it when you were back in Tokyo with your mind a little clearer. For now, you just wanted to enjoy your time unburdened. 

—

Later that night, you and Sukuna found yourselves in the hot spring, sitting side by side in the warm water, the cold air blowing a pleasant breeze across your faces. Sukuna’s arm was resting around your bare shoulders, pulling you close against him. Your legs were pressed up together beneath the water as you enjoyed a moment of peace beneath the stars. 

“This feels so good.” You murmured, sinking closer to him. It felt intimate to be like this - both naked but not in a sexual context, a level of closeness that you weren’t really used to. 

When you’d first discussed going to a ryokan you’d assumed that you’d feel shy to be sat with him like this, completely bare, almost scared of the idea of him having too much time to study you. 

And yet, it felt natural - relaxing even, to be quietly at his side like this. 

He hummed softly in agreement. His red eyes were closed, head tilted back to lean against the rocks lined behind the two of you. He looked so at peace, truly beautiful laying there beside you. 

“Can I ask you something?” He spoke, lashes fluttering as his eyes slowly opened to look at you. “And you can tell me if it's not something that you wanna talk about.”

“Yeah?” You agreed easily, nervous at the phrasing of his follow-up statement which offered an implication that whatever question he was about to pose may be uncomfortable for you. It had you running through a hundred different ideas of what he might say in the mere second that elapsed before him finally speaking. 

“Do you- uh-” he bit down on his lip, and if you weren’t so nervous about what he was going to say next you probably would’ve laughed at his hesitation. It was usually you stumbling over your words - such a situation was rare from him. “Do you have anything that you want me to do, like, in bed?” 

You frowned, not expecting that at all. You’d been perfectly happy with the status of your sex life since the start of your relationship - Sukuna had treated you with care and affection that had been painfully lacking in your relationship with Hiromi, and that meant that you were satisfied. 

The fact that he was asking had you a little on edge, because that gave way to the assumption that Sukuna wasn’t satisfied. 

Maybe he was just asking with the expectation of you asking him in return so that he could list all the ways you weren’t satisfying him right now. Oh god. You really wished you were more experienced. 

As if he could hear your thoughts spiralling in real time, Sukuna spoke before you could come up with an answer. “To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with the way things are.” He said pointedly. “I just feel like we’ve never had an open conversation about likes and kinks and stuff and sometimes I wonder if there’s something that you want but you’re too shy to bring up.” 

“Is this your way of bringing up something you want?” You asked, quickly deflecting. 

He laughed. “No, not at all. I’ve been getting what I want this whole time - I like being in charge and being able to tease you, and your nature lends itself to that dynamic anyway, so I’m happy.” He leant closer to you, breath hot against your ear. “Plus, if there’s something I wanted to try I’d bring it up organically, but I think you wouldn’t, which is why I’m asking.” 

“Oh, uh- no! There’s nothing.” You lied, water rippling as you squirmed nervously beside him. 

The truth was, there’d been plenty of little fantasies that you’d come up with in your mind whenever you were horny. Especially over the last two months when you’d been away from Sukuna and needed to get yourself off. There were things that you were curious about, desperate to know how it would feel, but afraid to bring up because it was embarrassing to admit to. 

Sukuna had ultimately hit the nail on the head with his comment about you staying quiet where it came to things that you wanted. You just didn’t want him to judge you for being weird, not quite sure how strange your desires were. 

“You know,” he said slowly, his fingers massaging along the wet skin of your shoulder, “if you tell me, then we could do it.” 

“Seriously, there’s nothing.” You repeated, heat creeping up your neck. You knew that you weren’t selling the lie but you figured he wouldn’t see the worth in pushing too hard regardless. 

It seemed that you were wrong. 

“Really? Not even something from that book in your bedside drawer?” 

You froze, gaze trained on the reflection of the moon in the water, refusing to look at him. You hadn’t been aware that he knew about that - the book was hidden amongst your underwear, and subsequently far from easy to find. Unfortunately, it was hidden in the same place that you kept your vibrator - something that you’d allowed Sukuna to fetch one time when you were mid-sex. 

He’d likely stumbled across the book then and circled back to look at it at a later date. It was a great source of humiliation to you that you even owned such a thing - you’d read all kinds of literature but that book was genuine bottom of the barrel reading, nothing beyond pure smut. 

And yet, you found yourself going back to it over and over again, thighs squeezing as you lost yourself in the intrigue. 

“What’s it called?” Sukuna continued. “Something about an emperor's concubine?”

You chanced a glance at him, heart fluttering at his teasing expression. Those red eyes were wide now, his smile ecstatic. You wondered how long he’d been sitting on this knowledge, waiting for a moment to broach the topic. 

“W-what about it?” Your attempt at nonchalance was painfully transparent. 

He shrugged. “The spine of it was pretty cracked, seems like you've read it a lot.” 

“And?” 

He bit his lip, trying to hide his amusement. “And let’s just say I read some of it while you were showering one time. Pretty scandalous stuff.” He teased, continuing before you could defend yourself with the claim that you read all kinds of stuff. “I just figured that you might be interested in some of the things that happen in the book.” 

Ah. 

The content of the book was largely different from the sex that you tended to have with Sukuna. To be honest, the smut was more in line with the rumors of Sukuna than the reality that you had with him. As with all those sorts of books it had a tough, uncaring, domineering man and a simpering maiden who couldn’t get enough of him. 

She was a concubine desperate for his attention and he was a King who couldn’t care less about her, but as with any man and a woman who he perceived as his property, he’d still regularly put her in her place for acting out - something that somehow always had your brain going haywire. 

You regularly found yourself imagining yourself as such a concubine, picturing the man as Sukuna, putting you in your place for wrongs that you’d never commit. 

Sukuna didn’t need to know about that. It was too humiliating. 

“You had those sticky tabs in there too.” Sukuna added, your heart dropping at the reminder that you’d bookmarked your favourite scenes, having never expected someone to look in that drawer beside your bed. “I read a whole lot about how he spanks-” 

“Stop.” You said with a groan, hands coming up to your face in embarrassment, Sukuna’s laughter loud beside you. You were more than familiar with the scene that he was describing, having read it nearly a hundred times at this point. 

“I’m just saying,” he continued once his laughter subsided, “if there are things in that book that turn you on, I’d like to try them with you.” 

For a moment you stayed silent, keeping your face buried in your hands. But after some thinking, a small voice of reason summoned itself into your anxious mind. Sukuna wasn’t trying to humiliate you, he was trying to give you what you wanted, and here you were resisting. 

If you couldn’t share this with him then who would you share it with? 

You trusted him, he’d put the pieces back together and given you nothing but positive experiences after all the trauma that Hiromi had caused. You might as well be honest about your desires. 

Slowly, you sat up, your gaze meeting his nervously. “You won’t make fun of anything I say?” 

“Absolutely not. I’m open to whatever.” 

“Then- then there are actually a few things…we could try…”

—

Nervously, you knelt atop the futon, your skin still ever so slightly damp beneath the Yukata. You were feeling a little light-headed, the heat from the bath leaving you with that weird heavy feeling of exhaustion. It did little to stop excitement running through your veins though, heart picking up as Sukuna crouched down behind you. 

His hands skimmed up your sides sensually before sliding your futon off your shoulders, the cold chill of the room bringing up goosebumps on your arms. The fabric pooled around your waist, where it was still held up by your obi - but Sukuna didn’t seem all that interested in removing it for the moment. 

It was clear that he wanted to take things more slowly, reward you with genuine reverence in this moment of peace that you’d found, knowing that there were no distractions to be concerned about that evening. 

Staying fixed in position, a little shiver made its way down your spine as he began to kiss you - gentle, lingering kisses that started on your neck, making a path to your shoulders before trailing down the length of your back. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you still, while his other hand moved to one of your breasts, squeezing softly. 

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed while he worshipped you, enjoying the feeling of his calloused hands pressed against your warm skin while desire pooled in your gut. 

You wondered if he was aware of the fact that this was what occupied your dreams each night. 

When his hands finally made their way down to your obi, he took his time untying it, slowly removing the fabric from around your waist and bringing it into his own hands. It was then that he hesitated, softly tilting your face towards him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his gaze earnest but not quite managing to control the flicker of excitement that danced within those crimson irises. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” 

“I’m sure.” You said, with a little smile. 

“Safeword?” 

“Strawberry.” 

His lips quirked upwards. “Cute.” 

You swallowed, feeling nervous as he tugged your arms carefully behind your back, setting to work at wrapping the obi around your wrists, securing your arms together. Even with your heart thrumming with anticipation, you still felt safe with his fingers on you, knowing that unlike encounters with Hiromi, if you ever wanted Sukuna to stop, he would. 

Your trust in him was unparalleled. 

“So, what exactly was the fantasy again?” He asked. “I’m some King and you’re my neglected concubine?” 

Biting down on your lip, you flushed. That was what you wanted, but it felt so silly hearing it come from his mouth so matter of factly, as if it hadn’t taken you an insane amount of courage to get your point across to him in the hot springs earlier. 

“Y-yeah. A-and I made an attempt to escape for attention, and you caught me again and- uh- now you’re punishing me.” You stuttered, a little red in the face. That was the exact plotline of the terrible book that you loved so dearly.

“Got it.” He hummed, pressing a few more kisses along your shoulder. “Remember, if you don’t like it - if you want to stop at any time for any reason, you use the safe word. Okay, baby?” 

You nodded, but he was quick to turn your head to face him, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that had you caught off guard. 

“Verbal confirmation, please.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

“Good.” He said, with a lopsided grin. “Want me to leave the room and come back in to really sell the fantasy?”  

You giggled, his calm nature easing your nerves a little. “Okay.” 

Sukuna pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before heading into the bathroom. You stayed frozen on your knees, watching the door he’d disappeared behind, excitement and anxiety swirling together in your chest. You felt strangely helpless with your arms behind your back, and yet a copious amount of slick had gathered between your thighs at being at his mercy like this. 

The idea of him coming out and having complete control over you felt thrilling. He was the only person that you ever wanted to grant that power to. 

His face was serious when he emerged from the bathroom. He’d slid his yukata off his shoulders, leaving him bare-chested, with the fabric hanging down where it was secured by the obi at his waist. He was staring down at you with an air of disappointment that had you shivering, reminded of how intimidated you’d been by him on your first meeting - before he wriggled his way into your heart. 

“Had some time to think?” His voice was more serious than usual, carrying a coldness usually reserved for people other than you. 

“To think?” You asked softly, playing along in your role. 

He hummed, approaching slowly, stalking forward like a predator circling its prey. “I was hoping that some time alone would help you see the error of your ways. But maybe you don’t regret it - maybe this is all just some pathetic ploy for attention.”

“N-no.” You said quickly, catching the way Sukuna’s eyes glimmered with humour at how unconvincing a lie that was. It wasn’t like you were a great actor by any means - you hadn’t been prepared for how natural Sukuna seemed to be at it. 

But you’d do your best to commit to the role regardless. 

Taking a deep breath, you bowed your head down towards the futon, leaning your body as far forward as it would go with your hands tied behind your back, struggling to maintain your balance while lowering yourself for him. 

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” 

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, crouching down before you. His hand came to rest on your bowed head, pressing you down slightly further. You found your legs shaking beneath the weight, trying not to topple forward. It had your heart racing with excitement. 

“I’m sorry, my lord.” He corrected, smugly. 

“I’m sorry, my lord.” You parroted. “It won’t happen again.” 

“Is that so?” He was stroking your hair like you were some pet, the gentle touch soothing you whilst also keeping you on edge, building the anticipation for what was to come. “I’m not quite sure that’s enough. I don’t think you understand your place here.” 

Reaching down, one of his hands found its way roughly beneath your chin, forcing you to rise once more. You batted your lashes as you looked at him, wetting your lips nervously under his stern gaze. You wondered how hard he was working to keep his expression serious like it was - you were so accustomed to his grin that it felt odd to see him without it. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to teach you.” 

The breath was stolen from your lungs as his lips collided with yours in a harsh, demanding kiss. It wasn’t like Sukuna hadn't kissed you passionately before, but there was a rough nature to this encounter that was completely new to you, your lips parting on instinct for his tongue to take over your mouth.

But in an instant he was pulling away, far too soon for your liking, leaving your lips cold. It was clear that he had a plan in mind for you though, sitting down on the tatami floor and manhandling you into the position he desired - laying face down, strewn across his muscular thighs. 

He let out a low chuckle at the sight, his fingers taking their time running down the length of your spine, his touch far too light and teasing to really give you any satisfaction. You were quick to realise his intent as he removed your yukata entirely, leaving you bare before him, one hand coming to rest against the soft curve of your ass. 

“How long were you out of my palace?” He asked in a low tone, hand moving tenderly against your exposed flesh. “Nine hours? Ten?” 

You hadn’t given much in depth thought to the specifics of your roleplay, not expecting him to ask you any complex questions about your character and her motivations, so you simply played along with his suggestion. “T-that sounds right.” 

“Which?” He mused. “Nine, or ten?” 

“I’m not sure-” 

A gasp fell from your lips as he brought his hand down firmly against the skin of your ass, leaving your squirming in his grip. It wasn’t like you could move about too much though, not with the way that his other arm was holding you firmly by the waist, keeping you right where he wanted you. 

“Let's say ten then, to be on the safe side.” He hummed. “You’ll get one of those for each hour you were gone from my side.” 

Your legs were quivering ever so slightly, anxious at the idea of experiencing nine more of those, but your nerves were eased in the manner that Sukuna’s hand stroked over the impacted area, soothing it in a display of care hidden beneath the character you’d asked him to play. 

If you wanted him to stop, he’d stop. That’s what he’d promised. And right now, you didn’t want him to cease this game you were both playing, excitement bubbling in your gut as the sting eased off into pleasure. 

“Count them for me. That was number one.” 

You let out a sharp little yelp as he brought his hand down a second time, pausing for the briefest of seconds after the impact, clearly waiting for you to follow his order. Even though your mind was swimming from this new experience, you were aware that failing to follow instructions would probably lead to further punishment. 

“Two.” You croaked out. 

“Good girl.” He praised, soothing the area once more. 

The next few impacts passed you by with ease, bringing you up to eight before you really started aching, your hands straining against their bindings, tears gathering in your eyes at the intensity of the sting. Sukuna’s hand came to your hair, stroking it for a few moments while you gathered yourself. 

You could feel the hesitation in his actions, caught between continuing on this line of the fantasy or breaking character and checking on you. He opted for a mix of both. “What’s wrong? Too much for you?” His tone was mocking, but you knew that to some extent he was genuinely asking, giving you an out if you wanted it. 

“N-No.” You stuttered, taking a deep breath. “I can do it.” 

His next few hits were noticeably softer, still rewarding you with a sting that went right to your gut, but not causing any lingering pain. It was clear that he was holding back, not quite sure how far he could go and eager not to genuinely hurt you. It was a sweet sentiment, the way that he was so concerned about you, like you hadn’t asked him for this in the first place. 

“There we go.” He cooed, “such a good job, looks like you are capable of following orders, huh?” 

He didn’t give you much of a chance to respond before he was moving you once again, placing you onto your knees atop the futon before pushing you down forward. It felt strange to not be able to brace yourself with your hands, gasping as you tumbled forward, your face buried into the pillow. 

This position had you feeling particularly vulnerable - face down with your ass up, your back in a beautiful arch. It wasn’t like Sukuna hadn't had you like this before, but this time it felt infinitely more exposing, leaving you feeling like he was examining you, in complete control of the situation. 

A shiver crept up your spine at the sound of rustling behind you, practically jumping out of your skin at the hot puff of air against your pussy. His tongue was quick to follow, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he lapped at your slick folds, eating you out from behind. 

There was something about this position that felt embarrassing, your face flushing as you buried it deeper within the pillow. He had both hands on your ass now, keeping you firmly in his grip, preventing any attempts to shuffle away. Not that you really think you’d be bothered to try - even if it made sense for the fantasy. 

It felt way too good to be touched at this angle for you to want it to stop, that desperate feeling in your gut building insatiably at each practiced flick of Sukuna’s long tongue. 

“F-feels so good, Sukuna.” You whined. 

Your words earned you a quick, sharp slap on your ass, pulling a yelp from your mouth. He pulled back for a moment, leaving your dripping pussy cold with the absence of his touch. “Is that what you’re meant to call me?” He asked, sternly. 

“N-no, my lord.” 

He let out a soft chuckle, and you wondered just how much your boyfriend was enjoying playing this role. You wouldn’t be surprised if being referred to with such a title was stroking his ego. 

Satisfied with your compliance, he went back to the task at hand - lapping at your dripping core until you were seeing stars. He was more than aware of what worked when it came to making you cum, understanding your body better than you probably knew it yourself. That didn’t stop you from being shocked at how fast he pulled your orgasm from you this time around. 

His actions had you squirming and shaking, falling apart beneath his easy touch. Perhaps it was the added humiliation of being in this vulnerable position that had you more turned on than usual, but you were cumming against his mouth in no time at all. It was a struggle to even stay upright as you whined and whimpered, wishing you could grab onto the futon for support but unable to move your bound hands. 

It didn’t help that he refused to pull away, staying firmly in place, face pressed between your thighs as he continued his onslaught even as you whimpered that it was too much. His strong grip on your ass made more sense now, preventing you from escaping the forced pleasure as he drew two more orgasms from you in the space of five minutes, leaving you wailing for mercy. 

By the time he finally took pity on you, it felt like a reward. 

Your body was limp and boneless, unable to move without Sukuna’s support - a reality that he didn’t seem to mind. Your weight apparently meant nothing to him, and he repositioned you with ease, flipping you over so you were laying on your back on the futon. Your bound arms were tingling pressed beneath the weight of your body. 

Your eyes trailed over him, watching the way he slowly removed his yukata, crimson gaze never leaving your smaller form. You gulped at the sight of his cock - desperately hard after all the attention he’d been giving you while neglecting himself. Even though you’d had sex plenty of times at this point, that nervousness in your chest never quite dissipated. 

He knelt down, nudging your thighs apart with his. 

“Why did you run from me, little concubine?” He asked, breath warm against your face. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest at the way he was sliding his cock through your folds, leisurely collecting slick. “Don’t you know that you’re my favourite?” 

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take on new concubines then.” 

Even though you knew that in reality Sukuna would never do such a thing, it was still easy to channel your jealousy for this scenario, summoning that horrible feeling that had overcome you when Yorozu had approached you at that party, getting all possessive over the man that had just kissed you.

He laughed, choosing that moment to push the tip of his cock into you. “Perhaps I should make you my wife, to deter some of that jealousy. I have no interest in fucking my other concubines, they are for political gain only.” 

Your breath hitched, both at the intrusion and the nature of his words. You were well aware that this was just a fantasy, but still found yourself enamoured by how easily Sukuna had made such a suggestion, putting you first even in this false reality where he could act however he liked. 

Even in a different life, you’d still be his one and only. 

“Would that keep you satisfied, here beneath me?” Your heart fluttered at his words. Truth be told, Sukuna had to do very little to keep you satisfied where real life was concerned - he’d already done so much to prove his devotion. 

You imagined that the character you were playing would show a little more reluctance though. 

“I suppose it might, my lord.” 

“Good.” He said with a grin, sinking himself into you fully. You welcomed the familiar stretch, wishing that your hands weren’t bound behind your back so that you could reach out and pull him closer - but you supposed that wouldn’t be much of a punishment at all, so you had to make the best of the distance that you’d imposed upon yourself. 

There was no time wasted letting you adjust like he normally would - well aware of your body’s limits by now, he was quick to begin with long deep thrusts, easily stroking the spot inside you that had you tensing and wriggling under him in sheer pleasure. He had no idea just how satisfied you were to be beneath him, pinned down by his larger body. 

Pausing for a moment, he slung your two legs over his shoulders, leaning over you as he positioned you in a mating press, chuckling at the way that you exhaled deeply once he sunk into you fully once more. The feeling of him was so much stronger in this position, your pussy squeezing his twitching cock desperately. 

“Perhaps I’ll even have you bear my child.” He spoke between thrusts. “Show you your worth in being the only woman I allow to continue my line.” 

You weren’t sure why your pussy clamped down on him so hard at those words. You knew that it wasn’t real - that it was a statement made for the sake of fantasy just like everything else, but it didn’t stop you from liking the idea. It was a thought that terrified you, because you were so far from being in a place to have a baby.

And yet, the idea of one day carrying Sukuna’s child was something that you were drawn to. 

One day. 

It didn’t take long for you to cum again after that - his thrusts in this unbelievable position paired with his words igniting what might’ve been a slight breeding kink had you struggling to hold on. Not to mention, you already felt so sensitive from your previous orgasms that the moment Sukuna’s thumb came down to swipe at your clit you were releasing all over his cock. 

The expression on his face betrayed his shock, but he recovered well, picking up the pace to help you ride out that pleasant floaty feeling whilst chasing his own release which arrived soon after, groaning out your name as he filled you up with his seed. 

“Was that okay, baby?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you once the two of you had caught your breath a little. He pulled out of you slowly, moving you gently into his arms so that he could untie your bound wrists. 

“Really good.” You said, cheeks flushing. 

“How you imagined it?” His hands were stroking your body tenderly, red eyes fixed on you in a manner that was almost nervous - as if he wasn’t quite sure that he’d done a good job. You could understand his sentiment, you’d often been too passive in the past, and he was likely afraid that you’d hated the whole thing and simply not spoken up about it. 

Fortunately that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah. You were a bit more loving than I expected though.” 

The character in the book couldn’t really care less about his concubine outside of her status as his possession - she was simply one of many, nothing special. Certainly not the type of woman that the King would wish to make his wife, not someone that he would prioritise over the many other women who warmed his bed. 

And yet, you didn’t mind Sukuna’s interpretation on the character. It made you feel desired in a way you weren’t anticipating. 

Sukuna blinked a couple of times before letting out a little laugh. “You wanted me to be meaner to you?” 

You shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. It was just an observation.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time we do this.” He said with a grin, holding you close against his chest. You could feel his heart pounding, and you settled easily against him, bathing in the warmth that his large body provided. “Although, I don’t know how easy that would be for me.” 

You tilted your head, looking up at him curiously. “What do you mean? You have a reputation for being rough so-” 

The look that he shot you told you just how displeased he was with that statement, crimson eyes narrowing at the idea of you bringing up rumors of how he was in bed with other women, like he didn’t have infinitely more experience with you than anyone else. And with you he’d been anything but rough. 

He gave you an answer all the same though. 

“That’s because I couldn’t care less about them. I wouldn’t want to treat you like that, you’re too precious to me.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m happy to play out your roleplay fantasies, to tie you up and stuff - I really like all that. But if you’re asking me to not show you care and affection through it all, I really don’t think that’s possible.” 

You could understand what he meant by that, and you hadn’t really meant anything by your comment around him being more loving than you were expecting. It had largely been a joke, a commentary on how even when he was punishing you, he was going out of his way to put you first. 

And yet, he seemed to be taking it very seriously. His pink brows were furrowed as if deep in thought, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he stared down at the ground. You were about to come out and tell him that it wasn’t something he needed to think about too deeply, just like he’d often do to you when you were getting lost in your thoughts.

But his next words didn’t give you a chance to do so. 

“I just love you too much for that.” 

a/n: hope you enjoyed the fluff! there's only a few chapters left of this fic and the next chapter will explore reader's return to normal life!

thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic! <3

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"Did that hurt?" Sukuna asks, his voice dangerously calm, a smirk on his face spreading. "Shouldn’t you ‘know your fucking place’."

Your mother screams when Sukuna stands and brushes his hands along his shoulders, knuckles bloody from the contact. Your mother is rushing to her husband's side, cradling his bleeding face and glaring up at Sukuna.

"You monster! You brute! How dare you!"

Sukuna looks at her, then at your father, who is groaning on the floor, clutching his jaw, before leaning down, hands on his thighs. “Ya gonna lay your hand on your daughter again?”

“You have no right to speak-”

“No,” she stares at her husband in shock. “I won’t, fuck.”

“Pussy too,” Sukuna snorts, standing straight and jerking toward the butler just to make him piss himself, laughing even louder. “Leave your daughter the fuck alone, both of you, or I won’t be so ‘cordial’.”

“Well I never!”

“Now you have.”

Sukuna walks out – not in handcuffs surprisingly, seems your parents at least weren’t snitches, but then frowns as soon as he sees your text.

You - Where are you?

Shit, you were gonna be real mad.

****

𝖄𝖔𝖚

You’re reading Satoru’s texts and your heart hammers in your chest, a girl who was hopelessly in love just in a month has grown feelings for another. You feel so much for Sukuna, so deeply, yet something about Satoru’s desperate texts are tugging at your fucking heart.

You’re dripping Sukuna’s cum, littered in bruises from his grip, from where he’d fucked you senseless into that bed. You’ve never felt like this, your thighs trembling, your heart split in half, from the odd guilt you feel and the euphoria in equal measures. You know Satoru’s done worse – right in front of you at that, yet it didn’t somehow free you from your thoughts.

Sukuna wasn’t there when you woke up, a stranger in his penthouse.

You sigh and call Satoru, who surprisingly picks up fast.

“Are you all right?”

“You care?” You can’t help but say it harshly, sighing and shutting your eyes then. “I am fine, Gojo. Promise.”

“Well considering you didn’t write me once and… you saw my…”

“I saw them,” you lean back on the couch, toying with the edge of the big shirt Sukuna threw on you. “I was busy.”

“Busy, hah,” he laughs without humor over the phone. “Busy getting fucked by your psycho boxing instructor?”

“Yeah,” Satoru pauses, and your eyes shut, cursing internally. “I was getting fucked by him.”

“So you… you’re not…”

“A virgin, no. Guess you can’t use that insult – you could use whore now though, if you feel like it,” he says nothing instead. “You have no right to be upset.”

“Yeah I fucking know,” he laughs again, a harsh sound in your ear. “Okay so you fuck someone, does he at least make you cum?”

“Why would you care? As if you’d have done anything for me if we were together. Should thank you for not, by the way.”

“You don’t know what I’d do, haven’t you heard those girls cum?”

“Yes I have, your welcome for fucking somewhere other than your house where you can hear.”

“Right,” he sighs now, a loud sound. “Have fun?”

“I did actually,” you swallow down the guilt – he doesn’t deserve your guilty feelings, your hurt heart. “So she’s not there?”

“No, and I didn’t invite her either yesterday.”

“Didn’t tell her to go, did you?”

“I… are you coming home today?”

“Sometime, yeah, I know we have the event tonight but how am I going to cover this bruise up?”

“I can have someone come professionally cover it, I offered you a makeup artist before if you remember.”

“I guess that’ll work…” You trail off again, taking a breath. “You said you wanted me to come home.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I just… it was as if we… I wanted…”

You pause and try to let him speak, wishing you didn’t care, wishing your heart wasn’t aching – for what? 

“Just come home.”

“You let me know it’s your home Gojo – I don’t have a home.”

Your tears slip through before you can think to stop them, the fact smacking you sharp in the face, you’re so happy to be with Sukuna, to be in his home, but it’s not yours. Perhaps the boxing ring is the closest thing you have to feeling that way, that felt homey for you to come to, even the home you grew up in didn’t feel that way, nor your apartment you had for a few years.

“Can me and you just fucking talk? Without him?”

“We’ve had time to talk,” you swallow nervously. “I’m feeling a bit of happiness, will you just let me, if you don’t completely hate me?”

“Just come home soon, okay?” He hangs up, leaving you as fucking confused as you’ve ever been, looking at the phone when it rings.

But this is from your mother.

“Hello?”

“You had the man you’re cheating on Gojo with beat up your father!?”

“What?”

“I know it was you who sent him, you dumb little whore!”

“I don’t know–” She’s screaming the worst things at you, making you start to feel sick. “Stop yelling please.”

“What a fucking discgrace, first you have Gojo threaten us, now your lover beats your dad’s face in!? What sort of whore are you having these men dumb enough to fight us over you. Worthless girl.”

“Mom I didn’t do anything-”

“I wish I had another child, fuck anyone but you would do,” your tears fall at her cruel words.

“I wish I had good parents,” you finally speak up, breaths making your chest rise and fall, tears hot and stinging. “I wish it was anyone but you, terrible, miserable, cruel fucking woman.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Don’t you dare ever call me again, I don’t ever want to even see you.” You hang up quickly when Sukuna’s opening the door, pausing as he sees your tear streaked face.

“Shit… Let me…”

“I asked you not to do that,” you’re sniffling as he shuts the door, setting the keys on the counter, walking right for you. “You could have went to prison!”

“I’d get out,” his jokes don’t work, and he notices, frowning again as he stares at you, brushing your messy hair back. “I had to do something, you expect me to let someone fucking hit you?”

“It will just make stuff worse for me, I know you care but – mnh!” Sukuna brushes his thumb against where you’re hurt, making you suck in a breath.

“He did that, and this,” he touches where your lip just healed, making it tingle underneath his thumb. “I don’t listen to what anyone fucking tells me, and I’m sorry – but I won’t listen to a girl who’s getting abused defending her abusers.”

“Yet I asked you to!” You shove at him now, glaring even through your tears, Sukuna cups your face, leaning low.

“Guess what? I’d do it again,” you gasp, eyes locking with his – an impossible, insane red. “I told you I’d burn down the fucking world for you.”

“You c-can’t,” he turns you around then, wrapping his huge arms around you, cock pressing on the curve of your ass. “Why me?”

“Because it’s you,” he bites your neck, earning your sharp hiss. “God it’s all I can think of since I first saw you, how fucking pretty you were, how broken. How I want to fit these beautiful, broken pieces back together.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper, when he turns your face to him.

“I punched him twice,” you shake your head just a bit in his strong hold, his other hand gripping you between your thighs. “Wanted to kill him, wanted to beat your shitty ass mom.”

“Sukuna!”

“I hate them, I hate anyone who hurt you,” his fingers brush you over that soft shirt until it’s soaked, and you’re writhing for his touch. “And I hate that they made you think you deserved it."

His voice drops to a low whisper against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making your tummy clench with need. “I know you care, I just… you don’t understand how deep it runs and… I am being a dis-”

“You don't fucking deserve it, and you never did."

His words leave no room for argument, as he’s touching your cunt, wrecking your mind to the point you’re arching against him, whining out desperately. “Kuna…”

“Love when you call me that dumb nickname,” his teeth sink into your neck before he’s bending you over the arm of the couch with a firm push, leaving you breathless when he hovers over you with his heavy weight, his knuckles coated with the dried blood from your dad.

“That’s…”

“Sorry I didn't wash my hands yet,” he laughs and turns your face towards him, breaths mingling together.

His hands yank that big shirt you're wearing up over your ass, the curve of it making him groan. “Mnh…”

"I'm not sorry for what I did," your hands grip the pillow he’s got you pressed against, his body heavy as he presses you down, you hear his zipper sliding down, cunt already responding to it. "I'm not sorry I beat his face in. I'd do it again."

Sukuna’s pressing the wet, slicked head of his cock against your entrance, you’re arching back for more, earning his desperate groan, arms wrapping around your waist to drag you down. Your cunt is struggling to take his shape, eyes rolling back just feeling the stretch.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes dark as they study you. You’re soaking him, drool spilling from your cunt as he just presses, swiping it up and down, the wet noise echoing in your ringing ears. “Can you take me brat?”

“Mhm, but I m-mad,” he chuckles. “Not funny!”

“You’re just too fuckin’ cute,” Sukuna doesn't prepare you, doesn't wait, drives into you in one brutal, deep stroke that makes you scream out, him moan as you wrap him so goddamn tight. “Oh fuck… stretching her out, huh?”

You cry out, your fingers digging into the arms that wrap you now, face pressed down toward the couch cushions as he gives you just a moment and starts to move inside of you. Mean, possessive strokes that suck the breath from your lungs, tip dragging along your walls, stuffing you so full you can’t think.

“Deserved every fucking hit for touching you,” Sukuna’s voice is dark, his hand coming to rest on your head, entangling in the nape of your neck, lips moving across your jaw. “Deserved worse.”

“You can h-hit everyone who h- hiccup!” He’s fucking you too good, angling his cock so it ruins your snug little hole, still sore from last night – a sweet, addictive ache that rushes through you.

“I can, hah…” He’s gripping you with his bloodied hand, capturing your lips and slamming inside again, filling you until he’s bulging inside your tummy, the one still pressed on the arm – the pressure too much. “I will kill anyone who hurts you.”

You swallow, tears threatening to spill, unable to do anything other than arch back and whine out, eyes rolling back in your skull. Tears do spill, with drool, when he slips your hand down to your own clit. “Mnh, why do you care s-so much for me?”

He pauses, pulling out and lifting you in his arms, your hand falling off as you cling to him tightly. Sukuna’s guiding his cock back inside slower now, studying you with his eyes unreadable – if only you could know what he was thinking. Why he deems you so special that he’d do anything – do too much for you, but he’s pressing you right on the nearest wall, holding you there.

“You ask dumb questions, brat,” his words are soft, cock stuffing you full, his hands digging into the plush of your ass, dragging you down harder as your nails grip his shoulders. “I already told you, I won’t let someone hurt you.”

Your thighs press against his hips, his grip on you tightening until he leaves marks, eyes catching yours – his thrusts are slower now, easier on you, you’re so tight still you can feel the pop of the ridge on his cockhead, every raised vein down his shaft on your gummy walls.

“Feek s’fuckin’ perfect, made just f’me, huh? All me.”

“Don’t stop,” you whisper drunkenly already, the way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel, your voice trembling and shaky. “Please…”

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” his words are rough, but the way he caresses your face is delicate. “Fill you up with as much cum as you need, all of it.”

His lips capture yours, and suddenly none of it matters – your mom’s nasty calls, Satoru’s call, it all just fades as he fills you and fucks your thoughts away.

Addictive.

Sukuna is addictive.

*****

𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚

Seeing you after your night out, littered with marks when you walk in with some brand new dress Satoru’s never seen, his heart sinks in his fucking chest. He knew what you did, that you gave Sukuna your virginity – the thing he told you he never wanted, but what a fucking lie it was.

Satoru wanted you the moment he fucking saw you at the engagement party, he just wanted to give you that freedom, and now you have it, you’re using it. If he didn’t care he’d be happy for you if anything – not feeling this sick jealousy creeping underneath his skin, mixed with the sheer desperation to get even the smallest hint of you.

Your lips underneath his? He didn’t care where they were, if they were sucking Sukuna off or not, didn’t care if your cunt was full of Sukuna’s cum and stretched out – he’d pump more inside you. It’s driving him insane, the need that’s been building, that increased from that night when he took you away from your parents, and now he just got that nasty fucking call.

Sukuna beating them up? He doesn’t blame him actually – he wanted to, but the problem was he knows now things will be worse for you. And yeah, Satoru fucking cares. Imagine him, caring for a human being? He didn’t know he was even capable of it, and here she is wobbling and all bruised from this fuck ass Sukuna.

“You look like you had fun,” he manages to say, you’re blushing as you shut the door. “Too much.”

“Yeah I need to go get fixed up,” you hesitate, pausing in front of him, opening your mouth as if to say anything, but then closing it. “So she’s not here?”

“No,” his answer is quiet, the clock ticking on the wall loud suddenly, the only sound aside from the whirring of the fan overhead and your breaths. “You know he beat your dad up.”

“I know,” your eyes close. “I told him not to.”

“So he didn’t listen?”

“Don’t act like you’d listen to me,” you scoff and shake your head. “No, he shouldn’t have done it, but… he did. And he was honest.”

“You think I didn't wanna beat the shit out of him?” You shake your head.

“No, I don’t think you did. Why would you?”

“Why? I watched… I heard…” Satoru turns, emotions hitting him hard. “Sukuna’s not the only person who gives a fuck.”

“Well that’s a very new development,” you sniffle just a bit, making him turn back to look at your glassy eyes and swollen lips trembling. “I don’t know what to believe from you, what’s jealousy, what’s a game. If you cared, how could you have acted like that, the day in the office?”

“I needed you to give up,” he laughs without humor, walking up to you and leaning low, a hand on the wall behind you. “You did give up, didn’t you?”

“Now you wish I what, held on longer? You don’t even know I’m sure – I wrote you a note in there. Bet you threw the lunch out.”

“I ate it,” you blink in clear confusion. “I read the note.”

“You read that, and said nothing?” Your tears stream down your cheeks, still marked from that hit, Satoru swipes at one gently, his huge hand cupping your face. “You probably laughed at it.”

“I didn’t laugh,” his voice is soft now, as he feels the regret from it all eat him alive. He never planned to care for you during this, he never planned to feel anything – he actively avoided it, but now all he can think of is that note. “You said you felt things when we kissed.”

“I did,” your lip trembles under his thumb. “You said you felt nothing.”

“I did say that,” he sighs now. “Was your cunt wet, your heart racing? Did you ache right here?”

His hand presses your tummy, heat seeping through, your chest rises and falls with your shallow breaths. “It doesn’t matter what I felt, does it? I was no different from Jennifer, Chloe, whoever you could find. In fact – you wanted them.”

“And you think I don’t want you?”

“I know it,” you press your hands to his chest, pausing for a moment. “I asked you if you cared a bit to let me be happy.”

“He’s psychotic.”

“So are you,” he laughs then, shaking his head.

“Yeah I guess so,” he eases back reluctantly, every nerve ending was screaming to lift you up, to kiss and fuck the thoughts of Sukuna away. “I’ll have the makeup artist cover your hickeys up too.”

“Yours are where you can’t see,” your hand slips to his abdomen, he sucks in a breath as you lift that shirt, revealing the purple bruises and touching them.

Satoru almost cums from a caress on a goddamn hickey.

His hand grips your wrist tightly as you look up at him under your lashes, not the shy unsure look, there’s just a little something different there already. “I have a few of these too.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he slips your sleeve down, revealing a bite mark right on your shoulder. “I’d be mad he bruised every bit of your skin – but I’d do it too.”

“You wouldn’t, you don’t want to mark me,” he smirks, thumb brushing over the bite, making you tremble, goosebumps rising. “You’re just mad I fucked someone.”

“Yeah I’m mad, but oh sweetheart,” he leans down, lips hovering over the bite on your neck, your hands cling to his shirt, head tilting to the side. Satoru’s hand slips up your spine slowly, lips barely a breath away from your skin. “I’d mark you even worse than he did, your pretty tits would be covered, your waist, your hips. Every cute little slutty inch.”

You say nothing, whining softly, your dilated eyes fucking destroying him as he pulls back, leaving you blinking – it takes everything to do it, against every damn instinct he has. “Gojo…”

“Call me Satoru while we’re out tonight, yeah? Especially when the cameras are on us, they’re gonna ask hard questions about your boxer.” You nod and he drags himself away, shutting his eyes. “You smell like his cologne.”

“I’ll wash up…” You brush past him ever so slightly, Satoru’s hands clench into fists.

He wants to fucking kill Sukuna, but moreso he wants you to look at him the way he saw you looking at Sukuna yesterday, with that damn look in your eyes. Yet he doesn’t deserve that – he didn’t deserve anything from you, fuck he deserves to hear you get railed by him every night.

Just because he knows that doesn’t mean he stops craving it until it drives him insane, jerking it just hearing you in the shower later like a desperate freak. It’s what you make him.

*****

𝕾𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

“How was the night?” Sukuna asks the next day as you’re both in the boxing ring, you frown a little. “What?”

“It was just hard to deal with all the questions, all the photos that they were taking of me,” Sukuna wipes the sweat off his forehead, it’s early in the morning before anyone else comes, Sukuna had hated being away from you after sleeping with you.

In his arms, where he fucking needs you, but last night he had a match he had to coach, and you had that dumb event, where he had to see you on Satoru Gojo’s arm. He knows it’s for show, but there’s something about the two of you together, this sinking fucking feeling you harbor more for Satoru than you let on.

He’ll gladly fuck every thought of the prissy little nepo baby from your mind, but at the same time, he’s so desperate to be with you, he’d rather let you get whatever it is out of your system, under his control. He could see it in the way your cheeks heat up when you talk about him, the way you looked back at him in the house the other night when he took you away.

Sukuna knows that Satoru is gonna try shit on you – he’d rather make sure that he understands you’re his, and that you understand it.

“Sukuna,” you frown as you stare at your phone, Sukuna hits the punching bag and leans over to look at you.

“What, brat? Avoiding training? Think because you got dick you don’t have to put in effort?” You roll your eyes but your lips quirk up, he laughs when you shove at him.

“Jerk,” but your face falls, Sukuna frowns at you.

“What is it? Better not be your fuck ass parents.”

“No, it’s just that someone took a picture of me at the event, after all the cameras stopped and posted this…” Sukuna picks up the phone, frowning when he sees the name, brows raised.

“What kinda fuck ass handle is that? Is she a stalker or some shit?”

“She’s a paparazzi for the shittiest company, so yeah,” you sigh, Sukuna can tell the words are hurting your feelings. “She said I’m… that I…”

“Shh,” his jaw sets now, seeing her nasty little comment when he takes your phone from your shaky hand. “What a stupid bitch, does she need some good dick or something?”

“Sukuna…” You giggle a bit as he takes his own phone out, pulling up the shitty comment on the candid picture of you, you’re still gorgeous it’s just a really odd angle, and there’s a hint of your black eye and swollen lip with the lighting. “What are you doing!?”

“I’ll make this dumb bitch cry, thinking she can say shit about you,” he laughs then, his eyes flashing just a tad redder than usual, black painted finger nails flying over the phone. 

“Don’t be mean!”

“You’re a little too nice brat,” he turns away when you try to grab his phone, letting you reach around him.

“Give it!”

“Nope, if I beat up your dad I’ll cuss this bitch out.”

“Sukuna you shouldn’t have done that, I’m still hearing about it,” he shrugs, looking back at you.

“They still talking shit?” You look down. “Ah, another visit.”

“No more visits, you can’t fuck your way out of trouble every time you know,” Sukuna turns and raises a brow at you. “Isn’t that what it was?”

“No brat,” he tilts your chin up with two fingers. “It was me wanting to bury my cock inside you.”

You’re a blushing mess, cheeks hot under his fingers, making him chuckle softly. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“You’re just cute.”

“I can be serious,” you cross your arms, making him smirk.

“She can say what she wants, you have my mouth on your cunt, and my cum inside you. Bet no one’s ever fucked this bitch.”

“Don’t be too mean!” You frown when you see his comment pops up on your phone, pretty eyes widening. “Oh god, you can’t tell her to do that!?!?”

“Sure I can, brat,” he laughs maniacally as he starts typing even more, ripping the surely sad girl to shreds. “Bet she–”

“Ryoumen Sukuna!”

“Fuck you’re sexy when you’re all mad,” he tugs you close, shoving his phone in his pocket, huge hand on the small of your back, tugging you against his body. He’s slick with sweat, your little hands gripping his massive biceps, fingers pressing in against the muscles. “You have even that dumb twink dying after you, surely you know she’s full of shit, yeah?”

You bury your face against his chest, sighing. “He doesn’t want me, I don’t know why you’re so convinced.”

“I’m not blind, look at his fucking face in the photos – yearning like a loser, can’t blame him though. I would too if I couldn’t have you.”

“Insane, you’re toxic and insane,” Sukuna grins at that, seeing you’re still visibly affected by the words.

“I am, so I’ll just eat your pussy until you forget her comment,” you gasp when Sukuna is on his knees, tugging down your leggings, already inhaling your scent, fuck he loves it. “Bet she’s touching herself to pictures of your dumb husband and he’s jerking it to you instead.”

“You’re insane, ngh!” Sukuna drags you against his face, wrapping an arm around your hips and tugging you close, tongue lapping up your slit and gathering those juices, groaning. “Kuna they’ll be coming to practice soon.”

“Then you need to cum quick,” he spreads the meat at your inner thighs apart, tongue lapping all those juices up, moaning as you fill his mouth. Your phone goes off with another comment, and you pause, blinking. “What is it?”

“He commented,” Sukuna chuckles against your heat, slipping his thumb to press on your clit, making your whine our, arching.

“Defended you?”

“M-must be for show or…”

“Or he wants to bury his face,” Sukuna’s tongue slips inside your hole, your phone falls, clattering to the soft floor of the ring, hands clinging to his shoulders. “You’re fucking beautiful, don’t listen to that shit.”

*****

𝖄𝖔𝖚

How fucking awkward.

You, Chloe, Jennifer, Sukuna all at a fucking dinner table that night.

Satoru looks utterly miserable between the two girls fighting over who gets a whack at him tonight, excusing himself to go grab drinks, Sukuna’s enjoying this shit far too much, slipping his fingers in your cunt while you all sit there. Being all… Sukuna like… ruining all your senses every time he touches you.

You’d barely gotten to cum earlier when the hoard of people coming to practice started walking in, but you had an orgasm, one he licked off his lips and fingers hungrily. You know he hasn’t cum though, not since the last time he fucked you – when he pressed in fully without warning, when he’d been insane.

More insane than usual.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you murmur to him, he nods, swiping your slick on your thigh.

“Gonna squirt right here, ya worried?”

“You’re so sadistic,” he just grins big, sharp teeth glinting. “You are.”

“Mhm, I am, go on before I make you squirt in front of these sluts,” your glare does nothing.

Sukuna truly gives no fuck and that’s frightening as it is sexy.

You bump into Satoru who is walking in from having a cigarette clearly, you can smell the smoke on him, feel the chill from the outside as he grips your arms so you don’t fall. You swallow, looking up at him nervously, the two of you haven’t spoke a word directly to each other during this slutty, dysfunctional cheater dinner.

What can you say?

“Sorry,” he laughs softly, leaning low.

“For walking?”

“Yeah, I mean… not sorry,” you close your eyes. “I um, am going to the bathroom.”

“Yeah.” It’s all he says, hands falling, you halt him then, murmuring his name, making him look at you curiously. “What, I’m just dying to eat dinner with the man who leaves bruises on your throat.”

“And I’m dying to hear annoying bitches argue over who gets to suck your dick first!?” He laughs again, this time genuine, snorting and shaking his head.

“You saying ‘bitches’ is so out of place, it’s kinda cute.”

“I’m not cute mad! You both need to stop saying it.”

“Yeah well, hate to tell you, it’s hard to find you intimidating.”

“I split your lip,” you smile meanly, he licks that lower lip, doing some fucked shit to your tummy. “Didn’t I?”

Yesterday when he’d touched your bite mark and… you can’t even think this way, just because you all have some weird ass understanding, you can’t do that to Sukuna – want someone else, especially Satoru. Yet how do you tell your younger self who loved him to stop feeling? Tell your body not to respond, your heart not to race?

You have to remember this is temporary, and an amusement at best.

“You did,” he murmurs thoughtfully, toying with the lighter in his hand, a little light blue one he keeps fidgeting with. “Got a hell of a hit.”

“Um, thanks for standing up for me with the internet girl,” your words clearly surprise him. “It was kind of you.”

“Me, kind?” He snorts, shaking his head. “Right.”

“It was, even if it was just… like the act of a defensive ‘husband’ for your PR.”

“It wasn’t,” he murmurs quietly, eyes flickering down your body. “The shit she said was all wrong.”

“Is it so far off what you said, the last person on earth you’d want?” Satoru opens his mouth, your emotions hit too deeply already. “I’m sorry I can’t just bring that up, I meant to just thank you.”

“Stop thanking me for shit.”

Satoru walks off, you rush to the bathroom, splashing water on your face, cringing when you hear the laughs of Satoru’s annoying ass companions, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You look tired, your cheeks are sunken in from not eating enough again, dark circles underneath your eyes, a little drawn.

You want to pick yourself apart, all the parts that aren’t perfect, but Sukuna’s words ring in your ears, and now Satoru’s.

Not true.

None of that mean shit is true.

Satoru comforting you is not something you’d have bet on, about as unlikely as Sukuna having dinner with him.

Your life has gotten messy, hasn’t it?

“So what made you wanna become a secretary,” Sukuna pops a bite of food into his mouth, smirking over at the two women who are clinging to a simply exhausted Satoru Gojo. You’d laugh if the sight still didn’t irritate the ever loving shit out of you, the girls are giggling as you sit there, sighing and poking at your food.

You suppose you’re happy that at least you two can sit across from each other in your weird ass dysfunctional way. Satoru’s eyes keep catching yours, darting across your skin, your neck, your chest. Sukuna’s hand constantly on your thigh, squeezing protectively, possessively.

“So, Mrs. Gojo, what do you think of what they’re saying about you?” You blink a bit, tears about to form, you’re sensitive about that, Satoru glares right next to her now.

“How’d you know about it, Jen?”

“Well it’s all over, isn’t it Chloe?”

“I didn’t see it,” she’s running her fingers down Satoru’s chest as you sip on that wine he brought – a  good thirty years old, those girls are downing the shit like it’s Boone’s farm of course. Yet you simply take your time, trying to find an appetite, you know you’re not helping things not eating and Sukuna would get on you if you don’t.

“I thought it was mean,” you answer finally, Jennifer gives you this nasty little smile when Satoru takes her hand off him.

“Why don’t you head out, Jen.”

“What!?”

“Yay, I win!” Chloe is practically fucking dancing when Sukuna stands up, taking your hand and tugging you toward your room.

“Sukuna…”

He turns you toward him, tilting your chin up as you both stand in front of your door, you can feel Satoru’s eyes on you both, Sukuna peers just a bit at the annoying Jennifer throwing a fit and Satoru honestly looking so done. “Come to bed, brat.”

******

“Sukuna…” you're gasping out later as Sukuna kisses a messy trail down your body, saliva making those marks glimmer underneath the soft lights of your room, your hand covering your mouth so Gojo doesn't hear.

“Fuckin' look at you,” Sukuna breathes out, tugging your panties to the side, seeing your pretty, glistening cunt, looking up under his sooty pink lashes at your face. “Who are you this wet for?”

You hear it then, the worry, you take a shaky breath as you take your hand off your mouth, trembling underneath him. “You’re asking that?”

“Yeah I am,” he tilts your chin up, staring right at you as his fingers toy with your messy slit, watching you jerk underneath him. “He’s dying for a piece of you, and you can’t see it.”

“Sukuna, he's got that girl in the room, ah!” You bite down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling, Satoru got so annoyed Jennifer had to go, but apparently Chloe annoyed him just a bit less.

“Yeah and he wishes it were you, so is this all for me?” He pulls his fingers off, slipping them in your mouth – you hear it, see it, the anger and possessiveness, letting you suck yourself off them.

“You,” it's true – Satoru and you have reached some odd standstill, an understanding, he's in the next room getting sucked off, but you're not even upset at it anymore.

How can you be with a giant six foot five man between your thighs, with those crimson eyes so dilated they’re almost black? Parting your folds and eyeing your soppy little cunt hungrily as he kneels, the weight of him making your bed sink, spitting a messy trail right on it with a bubbly string of saliva.

“Don't stay quiet,” you gasp when he shoves your thighs against your chest, insanity written all over his face, this sadistic grin as he watches you twitch underneath him. “Let him hear what he can't have.”

“You're insane Sukuna,” you whisper hoarsely, still trying to keep it down – but he just chuckles, those calloused fingers sliding up underneath the plush of your thighs to pin you, spit still trickling between your puffy lips.

“Insane would be making you pregnant right now,” he tilts his head, folding you in half, clothed cock nudging the slick mess your cunt is, soaking his pants. “You think I'm that crazy? Put a fuckin’ baby inside ya?”

He knows you just started the pill – but that doesn’t stop him from saying the craziest shit ever, and your body reacts to it all, clenching in your tummy, your cunt pulsing around nothing. You’re aching to be filled by him, the spit all sticky when he presses on it once more, pressure and friction against your clit unbearable.

Yet you think about it – what Gojo’s doing.

You shouldn’t care anymore, here you are, with a man who beat your dad up like a psycho, who licked you dumb in the boxing ring, and now he’s slapping your cunt with a loud, wet smack. You’re gasping out at the pain, lost in those ruby red eyes of his, the tattoos on his neck glinting underneath your light.

“Pregnant? Mnh!” He’s grinding harder, thickness pressing between your folds and nudging your needy, twitchy clit. “Sukuna, that is crazy.”

“Think I don’t wanna breed your cunt?” Your hands cling to him tightly, as he brushes your hair back, hands pressing into your waist. “When the fuck wouldn’t I want to?”

Sukuna ruts against you, knowing you need more but not fully giving it, your eyes get dazed. “Kuna…”

“I wanna fuck every thought of that blue eyed fuck from your mind,” Sukuna unzips those pants finally, his heavy cock just thwacking your soppy cunt, as his insanity bleeds into his every action. “I’d let you have anything, but I damn sure would be the main one in your head, make sure I cum inside first, if he’s lucky I’d let him after.”

“Sukuna I didn’t s-say I wanted that,” his tip glides through your folds, pushing the arousal around that leaks on him, precum beading from his pearly tip and sticking to your twitchy clit. “Never did.”

“I can see him yearning, who could blame him? Fucked up letting you go,” he shoves his cock all the way inside, deep, tip pummeling your puffy cervix, rolling his hips and putting even more pressure in your core. “He wishes he was in here.”

“Just kiss me,” he hovers over your lips, not quite touching, as your mind spins, cunt fluttering around his cock, swirling down the veins that are pressing inside your quivering walls. “I’m wet for you, okay?”

Sukuna moans desperately, slamming his lips on yours again, fucking into your cunt – rutting you right into your bed, teeth clicking with the way he loses himself. He’s taking over everything for you, making you forget – filling you with that hit of dopamine you’re so desperately lacking in life.

It’s all Sukuna in your muddled mind, thoughts running and fuzzy, your cries getting louder before you can stop yourself, nails pressing against his biceps as they bunch and roll.

“Kuna,” you whine out when he fucks you harder, balls slamming against your ass – heavy with cum he wants to pour inside. “C-can’t breathe, s’much…”

Sukuna slams in and holds it, studying you with eyes gone batshit. “Then breathe me, yeah? Breathe me in.”

You nod weakly, Sukuna’s mouth moves over yours again, tongue swirling around yours, his cock pounding your tiny cunt. Sukuna’s dying to fucking claim you, to ruin you, to stretch you out on his cock so it’s only him – just him in your head, the thought of you forgiving Satoru has him fucking you harder, grabbing you tighter, whimpering your name against your skin.

“All me,” he murmurs against your neck, breathing against your ear. “Let him hear, like he made you hear.”

Your whine is loud when he drags his thumb across your clit, Sukuna can’t help but grin.

“Good girl.”

******

𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚

How can he cum when you’re in the next room getting pounded into the fucking mattress? How can he think of anything but how good your mouth would feel, how pretty you’d look taking him? The girl on her knees is pretty enough he supposes, she’s not shit compared to you. That used to not bother him, he could get over it – but now him hearing you?

Fuck your moans are just sexy, perhaps the only thing keeping him throbbing hard, knowing Sukuna was fucking you – fucking his goddamn wife. The one he pushed to this, and knowing that hurts more, impossibly more. That you were going to eagerly give yourself, you begged for a kiss, your note where you told him you felt something and he broke you.

That was the moment of no return, wasn’t it? When he yelled at you in his office after you made that sushi, the cute little heart shaped ones he didn’t bother to thank you for. That cute pink note where you poured your heart out, and he couldn’t be bothered to apologize, to ever acknowledge it, no he continued on, you wouldn’t be with him long anyway, would you?

He didn’t know seeing you with someone would infuriate him so goddamn much, was it because it was Sukuna?

Was it so much more he doesn’t wanna fucking think about it?

“Satoru,” Chloe whines out, stroking his cock with a tight fist. “I want you to cum for me.”

“Then suck harder,” he shoves her head down, hearing another moan, and a muttered – Good girl.

Good girl, imagine him calling you that? Would you cum on his cock as you did, would you arch for him, let him pin you down as he fucks Sukuna’s cum right out of you, and puts his inside instead? Satoru’s never not used a condom but he would fill you up, feel your cunt quivering around him as he made you forget Sukuna.

He knows you feel it, the way you look at him…

“F-fuck…” Satoru busts in her mouth at the vivid images of you, exhaling with shaky hands, barely able to keep himself together as she swallows it down so greedy, leaning up as if to kiss him.

Satoru doesn’t wanna kiss her – he wants your lips on his, the one screaming out fucking Kuna. 

*****

𝖄𝖔𝖚

Sukuna’s snoring when you walk out to get a drink later that night, turning the corner into the kitchen just to smack into Satoru’s hard body. He catches you before you trip and fall, his hands taking your waist over, feeling too intimate – it’s utterly too much, when he looks at you, his lips parted, eyelids lowered.

“Have fun?” He asks softly, you nod with a jerky motion, your hands going to push him away but faltering.

“Did you have fun, Gojo?” You ask, tilting your head back to peer at him, your heart hammering in your chest.

You want Sukuna.

You can’t want Gojo too.

His words echo in your mind – Gojo wants you.

He can’t want you – if he did, he’d have never done what he has to you, if he does it’s some sick fucking game. You ease back but he doesn’t let you go, stepping until your back is against the island, the cool marble pressing into your skin, you’ve only got a crop top and a little pair of shorts on. Satoru’s touching bare fucking skin, lowering over you.

“No I didn’t have fucking fun,” you gasp at the harshness in his voice, the desperation that breaks him, the same tone Sukuna had when he asked if you were wet for Gojo. “Hearing you moan underneath him? Do you think I liked it?”

“I’ve listened to you moan this whole month,” you practically hiss the words, Satoru sighs, his eyes shutting, resting his head on yours. “You can’t act like you care now, so stop it.”

“You think I’m fine with him fucking you?”

“Gojo…”

“Does he cum in you?”

“Yes,” you’re not trying to be mean, you’re being honest – he scowls down at you, brushing your hair back and feeling you tremble. “I’m on a pill.”

“Yeah? Taking birth control so he can fuck you?”

“Yes,” you look down nervously. “A baby right now would be insane, even if I so badly want one some day.”

He frowns a bit, looking down at you, tilting your chin up and wrapping his arm around you. “You want a baby?”

“I told you, that you don’t know anything about me, you never wanted to,” your hands close into fists over his soft shirt, gripping the material tightly. “Don’t act like you want me.”

“Act?” He laughs harshly. “The act was me pretending I didn’t want you, fuck do you really not see it?” He cups your face now with both hands, thigh pressing between yours, he’s too much – just like Sukuna, taking your breath.

Yet Satoru took your dopamine, didn’t he? He took the only bits of hope you had and crushed them, you can’t go forgetting it because he’s looking at you like this. You swallow nervously, unable to fully disentangle yourself from him, stuck in his gravity. Satoru exhales, his eyes so dark they’re black behind the shocking snowy fringe of his eyelashes.

“You think I didn’t want you? Really?”

“You said you didn’t, and you chose everyone,” you grip his wrists, both of your voices barely over a whisper. “Anyone you could get your cock inside, and I listened to it all, fuck I saw you with them, riding you in your bed, on your desk. All so I’d know that there’s no ‘us’. Right?”

He says nothing, swallowing now, his eyes coated in a little sheen of moisture, dying to yank him off but still unable to make the move.

“Why are you mad that it worked?” Satoru’s grip tightens, you suddenly feel too much in that moment, every bit of pain you’ve been keeping inside threatening to spill over. “You pushed me so fucking far to ‘spare me’. Consider me spared.”

“I didn’t…” His thumb brushes over your lower lip softly, hesitating as it moves against you, when you hear Chloe gasping.

“Satoru!”

“Jesus fuck,” he glares at her now. “Go home or something.”

“What!? What are you doing with her?”

Sukuna’s yawning in his boxers, scratching his abdomen when he sees your face cupped by Satoru, and you panic at the precarious position, sure he’ll be furious with you for not shoving him off. You’re already trembling, realizing just how deep of a disappointment you’ve become to anyone, sniffling when Gojo looks down at you.

“Fuck, you okay?” he brushes your tears and you nod, Sukuna walks up and tugs you against him, frowning.

“Brat, you’re okay. I’m not mad,” he’s gentle then, as he kisses your forehead. “You can’t make me mad.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Sukuna sighs and hugs you closely, you rest your head against his chest. “My feelings are all over the place.”

“Yeah, gaslighting and manipulation does that shit,” he glares over your head at Satoru. “There a reason you had a death grip on her face?”

“She’s still my wife, you can’t be mad if I held her… but I was not going to hurt her if that’s what you think.”

“I think you’re trying to fuck her head up,” you sigh, hearing Chloe’s annoying voice whining. “Can you fucking uber her home before I do?”

“I can’t believe you’d talk-”

“Yeah,” you gasp, looking at Satoru now who’s sliding his phone off the counter, pressing the screen. “Time to go home sweetheart.”

“Huh!?”

Sukuna’s snorting, Satoru’s trying to get her to leave, confusing you utterly, you blink and look up at Sukuna then. “Desperate for you isn’t he? Pathetic.”

“Kuna,” he tilts your chin up carefully, heart hammering underneath your palm. “You’re not upset?”

“I’ll fuck any thoughts of him away, I’d fuck his cum out of your cunt and fill it with mine,” his words are filthy, making your heart race. “I’d fuck your throat so raw you couldn’t moan his name, but if you wanted? I’d give him to you, I’d fucking do anything for you.”

“Why? I don’t think I’m so special,” your lips are trembling, Chloe’s leaving and Sukuna’s kissing your lips. “Mmm, I want you, Kuna.”

“I know,” he lifts you by your thighs, having you wrap around him, sitting you right on the counter. “You want him too.”

“No,” you shake your head quickly, Satoru turns and eyes you both – his hands on your thighs, the way you look right at Satoru. “I can’t.”

Sukuna kisses up your neck when Satoru comes closer. “I wasn’t done talking to her yet, Sukuna.”

“You can talk while I make her cum,” Sukuna’s hand trails down your tummy, feeling it tremble underneath his sure touch. “You probably could learn how from me.”\

“I don’t need lessons,” his eyes dart across where Sukuna’s sliding your shorts to the side, exposing your cunt to him. His cheeks flush red, lips parted, his own hands trembling until he clenches them into fists. “Gonna finger my wife on my fucking counter?”

“Should ask you to lick up the mess when she’s done,” Satoru scoffs, Sukuna’s lips brush your ear, sinking two fingers in your cunt and curling them, making you cry out, Satoru moans at the sound. “Bet you would, huh?”

“Why’d y-you send her home,” you ask shakily, thighs trembling as you feel his gaze locked in on your cunt. “If you knew I was with him.”

“She was fucking annoying,” Satoru mumbles, exhaling then, while Sukuna starts fucking his fingers inside you. “So loud, huh? Your cunt, I could hear it – even louder now.”

“She gets loud for me,” Sukuna’s eyes meet yours, confusing you even moreso. “Told you he’d die to touch you.”

His words are low, just meant for your ears, moving up and down faster as you cling to the counter. Sukuna peers back at Satoru then, who’s transfixed in place, his eyes now meeting yours, fingering faster until you’re desperately clinging to his arm, cunt spasming, Sukuna’s cupping one of your breasts, a thumb brushing right over your nipple.

“Do you like watching your wife’s cunt squirt? All over me?” He asks, you’re biting down on your lip, trying to gasp for a breath, but Satoru says nothing.

His eyes just hit yours again, full of…

Desire.

*****

𝕾𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚

Imagine having to watch your wife cum on a counter with the man you’ve hated for years – that’s Satoru’s reality. One he knows he fucking deserves – shit he doesn’t even really deserve to see your cunt, even if it’s got Sukuna’s tattooed fingers inside it. All puffy from fucking, but got it’s pretty, so wet the squelch and squish is echoing, his fingers moving faster inside you.

Why do you have to look at him like that? Shouldn’t you only hate him, for all the shit he did, shouldn’t you tell him to fuck himself, to blatantly grind on Sukuna in front of him just to rub it in Satoru’s face? You’re soft still, you’re fucking sweet somehow, how do you manage to look so pretty and precious with your thighs spread on a counter in front of another man?

Satoru has been able to have any woman he’s ever wanted in his young life – he’s barely older than you by a couple years, but the differences were drastic. Before you found Sukuna and he wrecked your pretty hole, Satoru knew you hadn’t done anything at all.

I’ve n-never kissed before, I’m probably just bad at it.

Please, Satoru, just give this a chance.

It rings in his head, the fact that he could have had you first, you’d have willingly done it too, he bets all he had to do was unzip his slacks and you’d have been on your knees, serving him. You’d have done anything to please him, a pliant, sweet little thing – but you’re not now, are you?

And maybe Satoru loves seeing you like this, open about the body you were insecure and hiding, instead spreading wide, letting Sukuna shove your top up so your cute tits just stare at him. He’s so hard it’s painful, leaking so much pre he’s stuck to his damn boxers, hard to remember Sukuna’s even in the room with his fingers buried inside your hole.

What’s it feel like? Fuck he can’t even imagine how she grips, how tight she is, you’re struggling to take Sukuna’s fingers, he can see the way you’re glistening more and more slick. The way Sukuna controls you is fucking terrifying, how he murmurs something and you utterly comply, he says loosen up – you do. He says to touch your tits – you do.

He can’t tell what Sukuna’s game is, some ploy to make Satoru fucking utterly pathetic? To show him how much you belong to him, and never Satoru? Give him a hint of you just to take you away the moment he can.

Sukuna probably would give you those kids you want.

Sukuna would marry you and you’d still be rich.

A fresh start, what he knows you deserve, the whole reason he pushed you away from him in the first place – but now all he can think of is how badly he wants to bury his face between your thighs, how he just wants to finger your slick cunt until you shatter. Your eyes are rolling back in your skull, your head falling back, a sick torture to a man who can’t stop jerking it to you.

Who can’t cum without picturing that it’s you he’s fucking instead, how fucking pathetic he is without Sukuna’s game.

“C’mere,” Sukuna earns Satoru’s eye roll.

“I’m not doing shit you say.”

“Ask him to come here, if you want brat,” he murmurs to you instead, and you look at Sukuna, blushing and then looking back at Satoru.

“Come here if you want,” you whisper, Satoru damn near sprints to you like some fucking loser – hating himself more and more for what you do, hating you for whatever shit you pulled on him. Satoru’s hand brushes your thigh, tugging it open and moaning out loud at the sight of your soppy lips drooling on Sukuna.

“I know her every spot,” Sukuna smirks and leans forward, pushing his fingers up and down, up and down, over and over, Satoru’s eyeing the drooling mess of your inner thighs as he moves, and your hand clings to Satoru and Sukuna’s shoulders. “I’ve taken real good care of her.”

Satoru says nothing, too fucking lost in how gorgeous you are, he’s never been so hard, never been so leaky, he could cum watching your pleasure. He can smell that sweet arousal, making his goddamn mouth water – after having two girls fight for him, all he can think is how they’re not a goddamn thing compared to you.

Was anyone?

And here you are, close enough to smell, your skin underneath his fingers, scent filling his nostrils, his thumb brushing a hint of slick that’s leaking from your pretty pussy. Satoru who could fuck anyone, Satoru who has fucked anyone but you, choosing to send them home to watch you with someone else.

Yes, he hates you for it, for having the audacity to look utterly beautiful in the soft night lighting of the kitchen on his island, whimpering out with this throaty little sound that has him groaning himself. Sukuna’s leaned over, kissing your lips right in front of Satoru, knowing how badly he wants it – perhaps his own version of twisted fucking payback.

“Cum f’me, pretty lil brat,” Sukuna breathes those words and it’s like again some command you obey – shattering and spasming, indeed squirting all over, droplets hitting his hand as it rests on your inner thigh. “You can give me more, can’t you?”

“S’too much,” you’re clinging tighter to Satoru’s bicep, gushing mess spilling from your little cunt, thigh shaking underneath his hold, he’s so close he has to palm his cock, wincing as he watches your eyes flutter shut. Your hips buck up, his own fingers almost brushing your cute pussy, the one he can’t imagine not having. “Ah! M-messy, fuck… embarassing…”

“Hah, you know I love it,” Sukuna’s kissing you again, before he pulls his fingers back, sucking you off them and moaning.

You must taste sweet.

Satoru’s said nothing, Sukuna’s taking your hand off his shoulder now, placing it on your clit, and Satoru whines.

How can he not at that sight?

“Sukuna?” You ask faintly, looking at him curiously.

“Take some of that and have him suck it off,” Sukuna kisses you once more, looking at Satoru then. “He’ll probably cum in his pants from a taste.”

“Yeah I fuckin’ doubt all that,” he grumbles.

“Wanna suck her off my fingers?”

“Fuck no,” he takes a breath now, shaking his head. “Sure you’re not exaggerating, moaning like she’s dessert?”

“I’m not,” he kisses your swollen lips, you sigh and lean into it. “Come back to bed after he gets his little taste.”

Satoru’s eyes lock with yours, your hand trembling as it glides through your mess you’ve made. “So you squirt all over like that?”

“I guess, it is a little embarrassing,” you’re so goddamn cute.

Why do you have to be?

“I don’t eat girls out,” Satoru says, leaning close to you. “I much rather have my cock sucked.”

“So you don’t need to taste-” you’re going to close your thighs when he holds them open, stepping close.

“I want it, fuck okay? I’d… I’d lick him off you, that’s what you’re doing to me, and acting cute and shit like you’re not.”

“I have no clue what you’re on about,” you lean back now, touching your slit, just a little more open to it, meeting his eyes as you do. “Sukuna loves eating pussy.”

Satoru laughs softly. “Yeah, does he?”

“Mhm,” you slide your fingers into your stretched out hole, Satoru’s eyes almost bulge out of their fucking sockets.

****

𝖄𝖔𝖚

You’ve never done something like this.

Sukuna makes you so bold, he makes you feel sexy, like you are desired and beautiful, Satoru has made you feel terrible – unwanted, undesired, hated for just existing, hollow remnants of what it was like with your parents, with the added sting of his infidelity. Yet now he’s standing here watching you hungrily, his eyes so bright and vivid blue they hurt to look at, speaking insanity.

Why was Sukuna giving you moments with him? What did he see?

“Fingering your cunt like that, do it often?” Satoru taunts, still terrible, even underneath all that calmness, he’s about to become unhinged, his thumb brushing circles near your cunt, lips just a breath away.

“Why don’t you eat girls out, Satoru?” He pauses now, a little flush on a notorious man whore’s cheeks, you sigh as you scoop more of your slick juices all sticky from your quivering cunt.

“I don’t know I never really felt like doing it,” he answers, for the first time maybe honest. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make you cum.”

“You think?” You’re too bold, too brave, sounding more confident than you are, pulling your fingers out and watching them drip.

He steps close to you, between your thighs, his hands on each of them, lips parted and waiting. “I know I would, sweetheart, fuck you so good you’d forget the shit I did.”

“I won’t forget,” your words are soft when you take your fingers and brush the soaking mess against his pretty pink lips. “Suck.”

“You’re ordering me?” You nod and smile, he takes your hand and rolls his eyes. “Fine let’s get it over with.”

Satoru wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking them into his hot mouth, but that’s when it all shifts – his act, the way he was so conceited, no he’s moaning and sucking every bit of your juices off your little fingers in his hot, wet mouth.. Bobbing up and down as he sucks them, leaving you breathless, your heart racing.

He pulls back with a string of saliva and moans, leaning down and licking the mess from your thigh, teeth sinking in, mouth brushing higher. Your hand entangles in his hair, gasping as he goes to the other thigh, licking you all up, like he’s completely and utterly desperate for you.

“Fuck you for tasting like that,” he whispers, lips smacking your skin, standing and hovering over you, hands squeezing brutally. “I hate that you do.”

“Better than the waitress at the party?” You ask, he laughs without humor, like he’s lost it, shaking his head and licking his lower lip, leaving it glossy.

“Yeah, better than her, even though your cunt is so goddamn slutty, so stretched out from him, huh?”

“Yeah, it is,” you smile and he helps you off the counter, leaning so low he’s almost kissing you. “Good night Satoru.”

“Good fucking night.” He leans even closer before rushing off, leaving you so goddamn confused, so breathless, walking into the room and shutting the door, laying your back against it for a moment.

Sukuna’s sitting right there, thighs spread on your bed, his cock leaking so much pre it’s coating it in white, raising a slutty brow as he studies you. “Bet he’s cumming just imagining the chance, but you’re gonna be with me tonight, aren’t you?”

‘Yes,” you walk towards him now, kneeling right between his thighs, lost and fucked up from the high of having these men want you – one, who you thought you loved and now hated, the other one you’re falling in love with.

How stretched can you be?

How many pieces can you have?

Sukuna’s tilting his head, studying your pretty face, sucking in a breath when you stroke his cock tentatively. “Why did you let him taste me?”

“I want all of you,” he whispers, as you kiss his tip lovingly, your mouth on it for the first time. “Every bit, the fucked up you, the damaged you, the parts of you that you don’t wanna see. I want them. I just fucking want you.”

“Wh-”

“Ask me why and I’ll fuck your ass tonight,” you gasp, blushing, and he just stares at you, brushing your hair back and pulling. “I want all of you.”

“I want all of you,” he moans softly – not a whimper or a whine like Satoru can be heard doing from the next room, it’s husky, dark, your tongue lapping around the reddened tip, swirling on the head of him. “Teach me what to do, Kuna.”

“Yeah, ready for that?” You nod eagerly.

“I want to please you, I want you to cum in my mouth,” you whisper, body thrumming, the exhaustion replaced by two straight hits of dopamine.

Ryomen Sukuna wanting you.

Satoru Gojo…

Did he…

Did you care?

You do, you do care and Sukuna knows it, but in this moment all you can think of is how badly you want him to fuck your throat, how you wanna choke on it, swallow it until you’re full. How you want Sukuna to fuck your pain away, make you never think of anything but how you feel.

You want to make him feel good like that.

“Please let me, Kuna.” You whisper, hand not even close to wrapping around his girth.

“You want to suck me, me first, your first?” He whispers, pulling hard on your hair now. You swallow and nod eagerly. “Then open that pretty mouth.”

if you enjoy, comments and reblogs are so appreciated. plz don't say 'finally' or some shit LMAO and try to be respectful in my comments. As always this will have 3 endings. Love you all <3

One of his hands jerks upwards- right to the pounding space above his heart. He knows he must look a bit of a sight right now - a grown man pawing at his chest - and part of him wonders whether this was all the all-nighters taking a toll on him. About time.

But another part of him wonders whether he should consult a cardiologist.

Also about time.

Because it’s been like this ever since he hired you - the vetting process for finding a nanny had been a long and tedious one. And Nanami had rejected (he’s sure) at least fifty different candidates, had been blocked by five different agencies, before he finally landed on you. Either they’d been too strict, or too lenient, or too new, or simply not cut out to handle the benevolent whirlwind that was his adopted son.

The poor man had been on the verge of giving up.

In fact, he was two paragraphs into an email to HR whilst stress-eating a homemade Danish pastry and wondering whether buying his boss flowers would be overkill- when it happened. God, could this day get any worse? First his manager gives him a ton of work just before he clocked off, certainly not in his list of responsibilities, then he’d burned those damn Danish pastries, then one of the nannies he’d interviewed had nearly passed out at the sheer energy Yuji had.

He’d been working more and more these days. And Nanami needed just a few more months - a few more nights putting in overtime before he could-

It was then that the doorbell had rang.

Ba-dump! 

He opened the door tentatively, hoping that it wasn’t yet another ambush by a salesperson - each with their bright plastic garbage, and their even brighter smiles. But what he’d been met with instead wasn’t one of those visitors he dreaded…not in the very least. It was you—

And your explanation that you were here because of Shoko.

“Erm- she told me that you were looking for a nanny?” You flashed your conversation with Nanami’s clinical friend as proof. He flickered his gaze over to the screen but his eyes remained unreading—he remembers turning them back over to you.

Blinking at the vision of you.

And you’d slightly jolted at the intensity in them.

Digging through your pin-covered bag, “I also have my CV in here…somewhere.” He watched as you only grew more and more frustrated as that CV evaded you- “It really should be somewhere- give me one second-”

“That’s alri-”

But instead of your CV, your bag had poured out notes and pens in return. So much of it that Nanami marvelled at just how much fit inside that humble satchel. They dropped to the floor and you dived to pick them up, wincing. “I’m so- sorry-”

“Let me.” Crouching down in front of you, Nanami’s much-larger hands had had no trouble scooping all those papers up. In an instant he had them aligned neatly and handed to you. Prim. Proper.

By the tie still ‘round his neck, you guessed he’d just come home from work - and little did you know he’d also just finished four failed interviews for the position of nanny - yet he didn’t have a single blond hair out of line. They were slicked-back and handsome in a way you’d seen only in old movie stars. You thought you saw a few strands of silver.

Lines at the edges of his eyes. That tired strength about him.

It was hard to not ogle him.

Your fingertips brushed his rougher ones as you took the papers from him. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” The older man peered down at you—so intense that you could almost feel yourself sinking into the mediocre polyester carpet lining the apartment hallway. Neither of you made a move to get up. “I want to ask you about your availability.”

You’d jumped slightly. “You…you actually want to hire me after that- I mean!”

“Should I not?” And what was this? Nanami Kento had to stifle a chuckle at that? How curious…it must’ve been the work day getting to him at that point- yes. He was feeling a little delirious.

“I mean- please do…”

He’d looked away with a slight smile once you reached into the depths of your bag once more. This time, you didn’t make it erupt in scribbled notes- instead you were pulling out a printed table that looked to be a time table. “Sorry I just- printing makes it easier for me to remember…sometimes.” You explained, “I don’t have any lectures on Wednesday and Friday- and the ones I have on the rest of the weekdays are rather flexible so—”

A college student!

Nanami’s jaw had dropped then.

He knew you looked young but-

A college student?!

“Wait a minute…” One of his hands twitched, almost as if to beckon that time table to himself and make sure.

But then you nodded, “I first met Shoko-san during a medical conference she gave at the university, and she told me you worked late on weekdays. I should be free in the evenings then, but will you be working late on the weekends as well? Because I do have this one professor that really-”

Nanami didn’t know how on Earth the topic of him would’ve even cropped up in your conversations- but he needed to end this.

Now.

Listen. It wasn’t that you seemed like a bad kid- you seemed great, even! But Nanami himself was well into his thirties with absolutely zero idea on balancing Yuji and his work life. So he really didn’t want to burden someone over a decade younger than him with-

“Papa?”

The sweetest, sleepiest voice echoed from inside.

He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know that Itadori was swaying, all decked-out in his Spiderman pajamas, at the end of the hallway. Likely having gotten out for water or because of the ruckus caused outside. He blinked his sluggish eyes open and ogled the two of you.

Nanami doesn’t know why- but he shoots up to a stand. Almost as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

You followed.

Which one of you three was the responsible parent here, by the way?

His parched mouth opened to—what? There was nothing to explain. 

It was true that Nanami hadn’t had the time to even stop and think about dating or relationships in the time since he’d adopted Yuji. Not even if he wanted to. And, admittedly, he did have dreams of getting married one day - he watched all those sappy TV shows, alright? He knew how it felt.

He wanted to walk beside someone to that shrine. He wanted to have a few more kids, to give Yuji a bigger family than this. He wanted to quit his dead-end job and move out with his family to a bigger house in the countryside. 

But none of that was as important as his son right now.

However, he knew that Yuji saw all those happy couples during pick-up at the elementary school- and his boy was sweet. The sweetest, actually. Nanami knew that Yuji wouldn’t say a single thing about him being the only exhausted father to arrive all alone. Day after day.

The two of them in their lonesome.

His sweet boy would beam the biggest smile nevertheless. 

But kids were smarter than adults gave them credit for. Doesn’t he feel that loneliness, too? 

Perhaps that was why Yuji ran up to you in an instant.

Right past his haggard father and only towards you - all previous sleepiness now gone - he reached up towards the pretty stranger with the pretty pin-covered bag.

Stubby finger pointing up at a particularly red one—“Do you like Spwiderman, too?”

“Of course.” Leaning down, you smiled warmly at the boy. His hair was a rose-colored mess that stuck up at all odd angles. “And my spidey senses are telling me that a certain someone does, too?”

He gasped, “That’s me!”

Before Nanami knows it, you were held hostage and dragged inside by a particularly overactive pink-haired boy. Shown all around the apartment as part of your tour to be shown-off Yuji’s prized Spiderman-themed bedroom. 

And unbeknownst to him - against that lock-and-key and jaded guard - you’d walked into Nanami Kento’s cozy Tokyo apartment (and the strange cavity in his chest that softened whenever you were around).

He sighed.

A college student!

Still, Nanami can’t deny that it’s been a delight having you around.

Despite your packed schedule and your note-filled bag, you were always there to greet him when he came home. Without fail. Either tapping away at some assignment due before midnight, or humming to yourself as you wiped down the kitchen counters—last minute fluffy pancake emergency, he thinks of those nights.

Even though it’d been about eight months since your initial meeting, it’s almost fearsome how easily he’d gotten used to the routine of it all.

Something that should be so mundane - he flips each moment through his mind over and over again until it felt like they made up the grooves of his brain itself. The gyri and the sulci. Or so he’d heard you muttering to yourself as you studied one night. 

He’s studied, too. He’s memorized how you’d open the door for him, with a smile across your face and a finger to your lips- telling the older man to be quiet as he shook off his shoes. He’s memorized how you’d never fail to tell him about the leftovers in the fridge as you reached for your satchel. He’s memorized how you’d hesitate to meet his gaze- but smile the brightest once you do, and how you’d linger at the doorstep telling him about Yuji’s day.

Nanami has memorized how it made some dust-covered part of his heart stir. Blinking away the exhaustion of the day. 

Nanami Kento has never felt more invigorated than he is during those sparse few minutes that he caught up with you at the end of the night. Voices low, like neither of you wanted to interrupt a sleeping thing—Yuji, yes. But something else, too.

He gets the feeling that it’d feel like this even if you weren’t around as a job. If perhaps the two of you had met- the same age, at the same university.

Maybe in-between the sluggish hours of study sessions where you help him with some particularly hard question. Maybe in the library where he helps you reach some dusty ol’ book from the topmost shelf.

Times like this, he allows himself to dream.

You’d make the best wife.

You were the best nanny he could’ve ever chosen.

But one always has to wake up to one’s alarm. He sets his alarms himself.

“Come in.” Nanami tells you as he shrugs off his coat at the entrance. He watches as you stop in your tracks at the doorway, fiddling with your familiar pin-draped bag. “I’m just about to fire up some brownies for tomorrow.”

You pause.

“I-if it’s not too late and you don’t have any classes early tomorrow or-”

“I’d skip all my classes for some of your brownies.”

He lets out a breath of relief as you start walking back from the doorway. “Please don’t.”

It takes a little less than half an hour for the brownies to bake until they are crisp on the top and perfectly gooey in the middle. Layers of chocolate that are only sweetened by the conversation that you brought into Nanami Kento’s humble kitchen. 

He listens as you talk about your day, about that professor that’d been out to get you, about that exam you were sure you’d fail (he knows you won’t in the end). Only adding brief hums of affirmation and nods as the older man sweeps through his counters, broad back turned to you, muscles flexing against his office shirt as he whipped up a hot fudge as well as a strawberry sauce for you to add to your brownies.

“—and you’d never guess what Yuji told me today.” Tonight you seem a little more breathless than usual. Stuttering out your thank-yous as he brings out the tray from the oven and cuts out the first piece for you.

“Blow on it. It’s hot.” Nanami leans over the other side of the kitchen island. He watches as your pretty lips fall into a soft circle, “What were you saying, my dear?”

“Well-” You dart your gaze around the rest of the empty apartment. “You know how it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, Nanami-san?”

Nanami runs a hand through his silver-streaked hair. Smoothing it down. He knows how his son can be, and he has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face. “Mhm?”

“Yuji here seems to think that- well…” Bringing a hand up to your lips, fingertips slightly shaking. The brownie was just amazing. “He seems to think that Valentine’s Day is a bit like Christmas, you see. And so the entire day he wouldn’t stop making a list for Cupid.”

Now that piques his interest particularly- Nanami was never a man to skimp out whenever his loved one wanted something. “Oh, is that so? And what does he ask from this ah- Cupid?”

“That is- I don’t even know if this is appropriate for me to say but…” Looking around one last time. “But it seems Yuji is under the impression that we are together.”

“Oh.”

“Together together.”

“Oh.” He can’t help but inch just a little closer- a strange weight in his stomach. Not entirely unpleasant. “I see.”

You’re mustering up a little more courage, “And it seems that what Yuji wants the most this Valentine’s is…for us to get married. Spiderman-themed wedding, he says.” Watching as Nanami’s eyes slightly widen. “B-but of course, I told him that that might not exactly be in erm- Cupid’s range of power! He kept insisting however-”

He looks at you silently as you rub your temples.

“Because then he said a little brother or sister would be fine, too…” Was it time for the conversation about the birds and the bees already? Instead of storks, Yuji relies on Cupid?!

Nanami follows suit, running a hand through the silver streaks in his hair. “Is that so?” He sighs. “I shall have a little talk with him about asking…immoderate requests of Cupid.”

“He’s a sweet boy. Just a little confused.” You smile sheepishly. “Though I can’t really blame him- my friends think we’re together, too.”

Just an inch closer. “I see.”

And Nanami feels your breathing go heavy- enveloped in the hint of his cologne, the sweetness of the brownies, the musk of something that was entirely him. “I-it’s silly, isn’t it…”

He stares at you intently, reading your every reaction. “Quite.” Pupils flickering down your face. Just another inch closer—you wonder how much more space was left, and what you wanted to do with it. “I’m far too old for you, my dear.”

Your lips part-

The clock strikes eleven.

Both of you startle as if shocked with electricity- “I-I really should-”

“Yes, I understand-”

“The brownies were amazing-”

“Please, take this.” He pushes a bag topped with that delicacy and more of whatever topping you liked into your hands.

“Thank you so much.” You rush out breathlessly, other hand snatching your bag from the counter. “Night, Nanami-san—!”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

“And thank you for the brownies!”

The door shuts—with a lingering creak and ebb of your smile behind it. And soon enough Nanami finds himself lumbering in the direction of Yuji’s bedroom.

It’s not long before he stands before the parade of red and blue and masked superheroes: personnel stationed all to take care of the boy with a tuft of pink hair. His precious treasure. Nestled in the middle of his car-shaped bed. 

A small bedside light traces a glow across his chubby cheeks.

As he does every night, Nanami walks up to the little boy and crouches down beside the bed. Forearms rested upon the soft mattress, face rested upon his forearms- it was always around this time that Yuji would stir and look up at his father.

“Papa…” He sleepily mumbles. Rubbing his sleep-swollen eyes, “Gone?”

“Mhm.” Nanami nods. “Left just now, sunshine.”

“Awww, man—” Yuji seems to deflate- but that only pushes him deeper into the puffy pillows. Making him yawn so wide that it makes the older man chuckle. “I really like her, papa.”

His father pauses before he answers. “I like her, too, Yuji.”

“No, but- I really like her. You know, she’s my best friend along with Kugisaki and Fushiguro and you-”

Nanami starts tickling the boy on his sides until he bursts into peels of laughter. “Really, huh?”

Through giggles, he nods. Before stretching his arms above his head and falling back onto the comfy bed- perhaps he was still dreaming. “Why can’t we keep her, papa?”

“We can’t just keep people, Yuji.” Nanami has to hide his own smile. He knows he should mention the thing about Cupid right now, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. Maybe tomorrow…

“Yes, but…”

“I know, I know.” Nanami pushes his face deeper into his strong forearms. Sometimes, he still felt much like a kid himself. “I get it.”

.

.

.

The next morning, Yuji still wasn’t giving up.

“Papa, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Papa was about to burst a blood vessel.

He’d chattered on and on about Valentine’s Day as Nanami shuffled him out of bed, he’d announced what chocolates were the best according to his very distinguished five-year-old palate as Nanami helped him brush his teeth—he’d even turned his nose up at the heart-shaped scones that Nanami had made for breakfast.

“Papa, you’re gonna hafta make better hearts than this if you want to marry-”

“Yuji, sunshine, we’re going to be late.” 

Nanami Kento was barely a match for his son. And it’s with something akin to relief - like the exhausted sigh of a stranded man, finally coming across the silhouette of a rescue boat in the bleak horizon - that he manages to hurry the boy into finishing his breakfast. Tuggin’ on his Spiderman backpack, Nanami held Yuji’s hand as they exited the apartment.

Today wasn’t even a school day.

It wasn’t even a school day! And yet the teacher wanted all students in for a short assembly and some chocolate party in class. Nanami would be damned if he didn’t let his son enjoy these small pleasures. 

The elementary school that Yuji attended was only a short distance away from the apartment- usually they’d just make the trip by foot. During those ten minutes it’d become routine for the little boy to jabber away about whatever came to his mind.

How unfortunate for Nanami Kento today that, today, all Yuji could think about was you—

Not because Nanami wasn’t doing much the same- but because he didn’t like thinking of himself as doing much the same. Even though he knew. Query: if both father and son couldn’t get you off their minds, then which one of the two was going to use it?

The older man shakes his head just a little as Yuji suggests a Spiderman wedding cake again—he disagrees with both the cake and…the wedding. Right?

But the boy catches the movement and pouts-

“Why don’t you want to tell her, papa?”

They’re stopping at a red light. Nanami didn’t want to think about how those miniscule bulbs had been programmed to flicker in the shape of a heart today, instead of the usual pedestrian walking. What an apt metaphor for his life, no? Nanami Kento wanted to find something wrong in the traffic light - in the visibility, the practicality, the color - but he couldn’t. 

In fact, it was rather pretty. 

The crossing threatened to bubble over with salarymen and salarywomen and groups of families each hoping to be the first, the fastest, to jump the road. He tugs both himself and Yuji more towards the back where they were well out of the way of whizzing cars. Is it just him or were there more wedding cars than usual today?

“Tell her what? To marry me?” He absent-mindedly answers, “What did I say about no forced marriages, Yuji?”

“No.” He lightly stomps his feet. Making the blond man look down- “I mean why don’t you tell her that you like her, papa?”

And Nanami can’t help but look around like a caught teenager. “You- you can’t just say those things, sunshine! What if she’s heading to class and nearby…”

“But you told me you did last night?” Yuji answers.

Which, fair. And it leaves Nanami slightly at a loss for words. “I…”

“But why can’t you tell her?” The child nods sagely to himself, “S’like when I broke Fushiguro’s red crayon- and I told him. Don’t you always tell me not to lie, papa?”

“That’s…true.” His father hesitates. “But that’s different from-”

“But anyway- that’s why I asked Cupid.” Yuji hums. Content. “You’re a scwaredy-cat, papa, but I asked Cupid for you. Like Santa. And Santa always gives me what I ask for.”

One day, Nanami will consider telling him that Santa had to work a month overtime to get him that car bed—happily however. But that day’s not today. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at his father with wide, innocent eyes. “And I also asked Cupid for a bwother- maybe this year I should ask Santa, too.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think Cupid will make my wishes come true, papa?”

“I’m…afraid I can’t be sure, sunshine.”

The light turns green.

And Nanami’s the first to step out onto the road.

From here, even the crosswalk seemed to twist and turn into the shapes of hearts.

Along the rest of the way to his elementary school, Yuji tugs on Nanami’s coat and asks him for his phone—“Alright, but no games before school, Yuji.”

“Not playing games!”

And he didn’t think much of it.

Not until Nanami was on the subway heading to work, about to shoot a phone call to one of the contractors he’d be working with today- and he finds Shoko’s name in his call log.

Outgoing call → Shoko [8:01AM]

Lasted three minutes.

How strange. Nanami doesn’t remember calling his friend at any point today - it must’ve been Yuji during his walk to school. 

A mistake?

How strange, indeed…

But to be quite honest, Nanami doesn’t get the time to ponder upon this happening too deeply. The very second he’d considered clicking on that name himself and asking Shoko- the train had slid to a halt at his station.

Then came the chaos of the office: it seems that one of the interns had forgotten to fax a file yesterday. And Nanami had five angry clients on the phone before 9:00AM, one presentation to lead before 10:00AM, a few more angry clients just after the meeting, and a few more contracts to type up and edit before 12:00AM. Those utterly gaudy pink decorations hung about the room didn’t do anything to help with his oncoming headache.

Everyone in the office knew not to wish him today.

By the time that the overworked man was free for lunch, it was close to 2:00PM. His joints pop as he stretches his arms above his head, flickering a look at the clock above.

It was almost time for Yuji to be let out. Nanami knew you’d be humming to yourself as you walked to his school - and if his son was there, he’d join in, too.

At risk of sounding like a creep, he admits that he’s often listened to the low drift of your voice as you walked out of his apartment. It would start up once he shut that door. And he often stood there - on the other end - until it disappeared. Along with the sound of your footsteps.

His house always seemed smaller then.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Nanami stands and walks out of his department, wondering what he’ll have for lunch today. This usually wasn’t a problem with him, but this morning he’d been rather a bit…frazzled. So to say.

All those questions and ‘requests’ that Yuji had left him with just barely enough rationality to scrounge up something for the boy. As for himself, he was meandering through the busy streets of Tokyo - tarmac carpets flying by at a pace faster than he ever seemed to be able to. How was it possible for something inanimate to soar, to race, to live more than he did? Was it always built this way or was he one of the unlucky few?

He wonders which category you’d fall into.

That cheap ramen shop down the street wasn’t too bad - their broth was so good that Nanami was almost able to ignore the sappy love songs crooned from their battered radio. They had a special deal going: 80% off for all couples on Valentine’s Day! All ribbons and glitter. All special pink desserts and lovers holding hands. All love…love and a happy elderly couple behind the counter - the owners, it seems.

It was quaint- cute. The type of place he thinks you might like.

As he was walking back to the office, it seemed as though the city was fit to brim with similar sentiments. 

Flower shops bursting with bouquets like carnivorous sunsets, bleeding hearts and ruby-red roses. Candy shops with something sweet for every color of the rainbow—and more covert advertisements for more…adult indulgences. Sex shops that Nanami had to speed-walk past because of how full and flush they were. Ripe with Valentine’s Day.

Nanami Kento might try to ignore what today is, but the world sure as hell wouldn’t let him forget.

Once he finally runs back to his cubicle- he ducks his head and focuses his eyes solely on the computer screen. He hopes no one comments on the numerous glitzy bags beside him.

.

.

.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Y’know- most people would say—‘Wow, it’s so nice to see you. Now I should totally stop brushing off your invites for drinks. Thank you for being such a kind and respectful and understanding friend, Ieri Shoko.’” The woman in question stretches languorously on top of the couch, her test tube-patterned socks dangling from the other side. “And you’re welcome, by the way!”

Nanami raises one hand in front of him- almost as if to pause the scene entirely. He closes his eyes—when he opens them, he hopes that this had all been a bad dream and he’ll wake up to his glaring computer screen.

He opens them.

Nope- still real.

“Let me rephrase- what the hell have you done to my apartment?”

Shoko gets off the couch and gestures at the apartment like a magician showing off a trick. “Ta-da!” At all the yellow candles that cast miniature sunrises where they wept, at the music that crept sensually from some mysterious corner of the room, at the humble dining table that now looked like it came out of a Times’ 10 Best Spots To Take Your Lover for Valentine’s Day. 

Nanami’s stern lips part as he takes in the silver-covered dishes on top, on top of some white cloth—was that his goddamn blanket?!

“Oh c’mon-” Shoko rolls her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, I see the bouquet in your hands. You obviously planned something of the sort.”

He forgot about that damn thing. Nearly dropping those flowers in his haste to hide it behind his broad back, though there was really no use - he simply couldn’t stand Shoko’s laughing eyes any longer. “Th-this was for Yuji.”

“I see the smaller bouquet in the bag.” She points out. Almost empathetically, Shoko sighs. “You really aren’t slick, Kento.”

“This isn’t- this is just—” But the longer she smirks at him, the less he seems to have an answer. Soon enough, he’s bringing out that massive bouquet from behind him and letting his friend fawn over the thing.

“Wow, she’s really going to love this-”

“It’s called being nice, by the way!” Nanami answers, belatedly.

The look Shoko gives him is enough to make him click his mouth shut.

“I hope you know that I bought one to give you tomorrow…I’m throwing it out now.” Because no matter how much Nanami denied it, today was about love. Parental. Platonic. Even the love that he could never have. As Shoko rummages through the bag with an excited squeak, he drawls on. “Where even is she, by the way? What have you done to her?”

“Hm? Oh, Yuji called me this morning. Thank you for these, by the way.” Shoko stands with a beautiful yellow rose and purple zinnia bouquet in her arms. She sniffs at the sweet fragrance- “Yuji called me asking whether he should leave out cookies for Cupid just like he does with Santa. It seems he wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding, and guess what? I wanted Cupid to bring us a wedding.” Her face breaks out into a smug smile - the one he’s only seen when she used to cheat through biochemistry exams without anyone ever knowing. “So we called up your darling nanny and let her know that her schedule’s changed for today- then Yuji and I did a little sprucing up in here.”

“Sprucing up…”

She turns around to admire her work, “Honestly, Kento, if I knew that you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body then I’d have dissected you-‘

“Papa!”

Spared from hearing whatever gory plans that Shoko had for him by the excited yelp of his son—Nanami hears his footsteps before he sees him. He feels the impact before he sees him.

Yuji’s running down the hallway and launching himself at his father at full speed- “Papa, you’re home!”

“That I am, sunshine.” Nanami smiles down at the boy. “How was your day? I have something for you.”

“For me?” Tufts of pink curls bobbing as he cocks his head, following his father’s movements as Nanami crouches down and reaches into one of the bags. Before breaking out into the most brilliant smile at the sight of the flowers. “Woah- they’re so pretty—! Thank you.”

Crushing the bouquet of pink carnations and hydrangea to his chest, he wraps his arms around Nanami’s shoulders and hugs him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, papa. I’ve got a gift for you, too-” Breaking away, Yuji’s throwing an arm out towards the room at large. “Auntie Shoko said this was how you bring Cupid! And we also tried to make those heart-shaped cupcakes you make, but it tasted like tar so…”

“That’s perfectly alright, Yuji.” He swipes at a smear of icing still on the boy’s face. “We can learn together on my next day off, right?”

“Right!” Yuji jumps in excitement. “And after your wedding today-‘

“Yuji…”

“And right on time.” Shoko’s voice permeates the room- right alongside the sharp fwip! of the window shutters closing. She turns away from the glass and pushes off from her station. “C’mon Yuji, now the plan is a-go! Go! Go!”

“Aye-aye!” With a chubby hand raised in salute—Yuji wastes no time giving his father a final hug. “Bye bye, papa.”

“Wha-” Nanami looks at the harried duo in confusion. “What are you two-”

“And don’t mess this up, Kento.” Shoko gives him a stern wave. 

Before she clasps Yuji’s hand and helps the boy match her longer stride- the two of them speed-walk in the direction of the door.

“Yeah- don’t mess this up, papa!”

“Uh, where are you taking my son?” Nanami stalks after them. Not letting the front door close behind them, he watches the two figures - bouquets and all - race down the hallway. How strange that they didn’t take the usual route - instead opting for the one that would let them leave through the back entrance. “Hello? Shoko-”

“Don’t mess this up!”

He has half the mind to chase after them - it’s not that he doesn’t trust Shoko with his son, but really, what on Earth could they be getting up to?! Especially so late past Yuji’s bedtime. At the very least, maybe he could run up to them and let Shoko know of his son’s Spiderman ritual before eating and the tendency he has to bite fingers when-

“Nanami-san?”

Your voice.

Was he dreaming?

And yet—Nanami snaps his head towards the source of the noise so fast that it almost causes whiplash. He breathes your name out in a whisper.

So this is what Shoko meant about-

“Am I hallucinating or is that Shoko-san and Yuji running down the fire escape?” You point at something beyond his line of vision, though Nanami doesn’t need to look to know that it is, in fact, Shoko and Yuji running down the fire escape.

“I think I’m hallucinating, to be quite honest.” He mutters. Because surely there was no conceivable world in which he would see you like this - standing outside his door on Valentine’s Day, looking all gorgeous as you always did - and dare to bring out the bouquet that he had bought for you. Also was that…was that a bit of make-up you’d dabbed on? More so than usual?

His eyes linger on the glitter beside your eyes.

The thought that it might’ve been because it’s today - that it might’ve been because you’d been as nervous about seeing him today as he was about seeing you - makes him jolt. He’d been smoothing his hair down the entire subway ride home thinking of you.

Thirty-something years and he’s acting like a teenager in puppy love.

Certainly no conceivable world…

And yet…he does. He reaches behind him to bring out that prideful bouquet: 520 flower-heads that blushed themselves silly over not being even half as beautiful as you.

“For you.” He croaks out. Awkwardly pushing up his glasses. 

“Oh.” Your jaw drops, and the bouquet weighs heavy in your hands. In nothing but a whisper- “It’s beautiful, Nanami-san.”

Red, red roses.

.

.

.

Nanami explained the situation before he invited you in…somewhat.

Certainly nothing about how badly he’d been teased because of this little scheme or the ah- confession of feelings. Heavens, no! Nanami himself wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d go along with their plan…

As far as you knew, Shoko and Yuji thought it’d be a funny little prank to ‘invite Cupid’ into his apartment this Valentine’s Day. Leaving the two of you alone in an apartment draped in candles and roses like the most deviant of mistresses. 

And Nanami knew you knew. You knew that Nanami knew.

The implications were there for all to see.

It was there in the way his face burned red, and Nanami couldn’t meet your eyes- “I’m aware of how it looks. And it seems that my son still holds the idea that erm…either way, ahem, I completely understand if you would much rather go home. Please do know that this will not affect your job in any way whatsoever- in fact, I will cover your fee double tonight-”

“Nanami-san.” You’d interrupted him. Cocking your head with a slight smile, “May I come in?”

From there he’d been the perfect gentleman - not that he wasn’t usually. Even in the months since you’d worked for him, you’d come to find that Nanami was the type of man that opened doors for you, that pushed your chair for you, that covered your taxi fare home, that escorted you as far as he could by foot either way.

But now…oh, right now he was putting any Prince Charming to shame.

He had his hand hoverin’ right above your waist- leading you inside to the romantic dinner table. Here, he’d pushed your chair for you—and before you could even thank him, Nanami had his hands helping you out of your coat. 

He insisted on plating for you.

You couldn’t help but gawk at the way his biceps pushed against his work button-up, flexing slightly as Nanami stood beside the table and neatly cut your bread - one he’d baked just this morning, according to him. Shoko had clearly rummaged through his kitchen well…

Conversation was somewhat breathless at first- the both of you waiting for the other to go first. The both of you anticipating every single word.

Wondering what every single word meant.

But after the first two courses - Shoko certainly hadn’t burned these - the both of you were talking freely. Moving on from the more polite topics, like your day, his day, that were really a front for something more - speaking with Nanami was always so easy, he was the best listener you’ve had in a while—to dessert: strawberry shortcake cupcakes and a confession that slips from your lips. 

“Y’know- this is the first Valentine’s Day I’m spending like this.” You giggle, wiping off the cream that sticks to your lips. Nanami watches with half-lidded eyes as you devour the delicacy he’d baked this morning.

He swirls his half-empty wine glass. Certainly not enough to get the man tipsy - Nanami was quite the heavy drinker when he wanted to be - but enough to make him ask. “Oh? Tell me more, my dear.”

The candlelight catches on the rim of his glasses, encasing his eyes in an intense glow. You think he looks even more handsome like this- “Sorry. It’s probably going to sound stupid to someone more experienced…”

“There is nothing you’d say that would be stupid.” He pushes his glasses further up his sharp nose. Fingers crossing before him, he leans in. “Continue, my dear.”

“It’s just- I haven’t had many serious relationships, is what.” You admit. And he looks at you so intently- “With life and university, it’s hard to find the time—if I was looking anyways, that is.” You sputter, before he can ask anything about whether the nanny job was cutting into your time. “The selection in my department isn’t great at all.”

“So…” Nanami runs the tip of his finger ‘round that glass cup. The thin rim. The gaping mouth. “-no lil’ boyfriend, then?”

“No boyfriend.” You echo. And perhaps being drunk on the proximity is what makes you blurt out- “But if I did have one, I think I’d like someone older—”

He quirks a brow in interest, “Older?”

You nod. Crossing your arms in slight embarrassment, “Boys my age will ask you out and then go halfsies just because you don’t want to go home with them.”

“Mhmm.” Nanami’s lip curls in distaste.

“I just want someone to like me for me- y’know? Just to sit across from me like this and really talk to me for once.”

“Has no boy ever wined and dined you like this?” He asks.

“No.” You admit, somewhat sheepishly.

“Has no boy ever bought you flowers?”

“No.” You cast a look at the 520 roses - now housed in a large vase that Nanami had pulled out from one of his cabinets.

“No…” You breathe.

He inches forwards, forwards, forwards—and wipes at a remnant of sweet, sweet cream on your lips. That roughened edge of Nanami’s thumb grazes the edge of your mouth. “Has no boy ever been sweet to you like this?” He catches the look in your eyes. And his own lower. “Has no boy ever treated you like a man would, my dear?”

The older man doesn’t hesitate in reaching his thumb back up to his mouth- and lickin’ off the cream. “Has no boy ever eaten you out like this?”

“No-”

Your lips upon his are even sweeter than the cupcakes he’s baked- and he’s lavishin’ his tongue over your mouth gently. Opening you up so wide—

And even that isn’t enough.

Nanami’s thumb finds permanent purchase at the end of your chin, letting his own sinful tongue slip inside. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Almost as if he was fucking you with it-

You’re not sure how long Nanami’s kissing you like this. 

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.

You’ve lost track of time- and the only thing you know is that your head feels dizzy. Your knees were growing weak in your seat. A slick line of spittle glides down the side of your mouth- and Nanami reaches a thumb up to smeeear it.

“My dear…” He murmurs, his deep baritone taking on a husky tone. Hot breath fans across your face, heating you up from the inside out.

You’re raising your face to meet his molten gaze- and it almost shocked you just how handsome Nanami Kento is. Noble features chiselled in the soft candlelight. His mouth slightly kiss-swollen. Blond hair unravelling from his usual neat style n’ cascading across his forehead. 

He reaches closer to you and siiinks his teeth into your lower lip, “Have you ever been kissed like that- here before?”

You squirm. Shaking your head-

But he tugs on your pretty maw. “Tell me in words, honey.”

Gulping as one of his rugged hands snakes down your middle. A carnal jolt echoes through your body once Nanami presses the edge of his palm between your skirt- your legs. “I…” You think of all the disappointing dates you’ve been on before, of all the disappointing hands in places almost forgettable. “Not like that, Nanami-san.”

“Now now—when we fuck, call me Kento.” He mutters, finally making his way ‘round the table. Before you know it, he’s looming over you- and two of his strong hands rest underneath your legs. “Upsy daisy.” 

He’s lifting you uuuuuup, up, up to splay out across the dinner table.

Lifting you like you weighed nothing.

Pushing aside first and foremost those plates and flowers- you’re being rolled with your back against the tabletop, and Nanami’s honed hips pinning you down. A dimly-lit halo of light behind his golden hair. He wastes no time before throwing both legs of yours on top of his shoulders- “M’gonna teach you how a real man eats pussy.”

You nod-

“First lesson. Big girls use their words.” 

And your jaw drops—

“K-Kento—”

You’re not sure whether the primal noise escapes you because of his words, his tone, or because of the utterly desperate way that Nanami Kento falls to his knees. Thud!

Loud enough that it should hurt- but you don’t think it even registers in Nanami’s frenzied brain right now. 

Not when he was pushing up that damn sinful skirt of yours- extra tight tonight. Nanami wasn’t a fool - he knew what you were doing. Not when he was starin’ deeply at your pussy, all wet through your panties and throbbing so hard he could practically see it.

Count it.

One-two-three. 

Not when he was worshipping you as close as a man possibly could—“Not quite the answer I was looking for.” Then the next thing you’re hearing is a sudden thwack! The next thing you’re feeling are the five pointed tips of Nanami’s thick fingers, smacking down on top of your pussy. “But I’ll let it slide since s’your first time being eaten out all properly, mhm?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“What was that?” Those mean fingertips of his raise again.

“Yes, Kento.” You’re hurrying to answer. And just as a little reward, Nanami smears his digits atop your swollen folds. 

“That’s more like it.” The glaze of your sweetened slick lets out the loudest squelch, and you squirm as he’s tuggin’ aside your panties with a single index. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Are you excited, my dear?”

“Yes-”

“Good girl.”

Let the feast begin, he’s thinking. And Nanami Kento doesn’t wait. Nanami Kento doesn’t tease n’ toy. Nanami Kento doesn’t even swivel his fingertips around your wet hole more than a few times to check how soaked you are before he’s taking what he wants—he doesn’t have the damn time for anything else. 

He’d been starving for far too long.

And the closer n’ closer he gets to your pussy, the more his mouth waters. 

Nanami’s left drooling at the mere sight of your wet fuckin’ hole—you swear you could hear his stomach start to growl. Fuck.

He gulps.

He takes a single sniff. 

With a sudden lurch - like he couldn’t hold it back any longer - he leans up and shoves his face nose-deep between your legs.

His tongue swiping your hole, jaw hittin’ the end of your slit.

He’s curving that wet, wet muscle against your walls. Just so soft that it feels as if you’re melting around him- “Fuck.” It escapes him- harsh and cracking. A primal groan at the back of his throat - one he doesn’t seem to even realize himself. “Fuck.”

You tremble at the tone.

Because there was something dark in it. Something almost…predatory.

This was nothing like the calm, composed Nanami Kento that you were used to - absolutely nothing. This was…you didn’t even have words for it.

So fiercely needy that it shoots electricity up your spine- Nanami’s tongue was ravenous. He was holding onto both sides of your legs and- and correction…he wasn’t merely holding onto them. Nanami Kento was using all his strength to push them as faaaar apart as they would go before suffocating himself on your sopping wet cunt.

Such strong hands. Furious tongue.

No matter how much you’re bucking your hips- he just keeps fucking his muscle between your wet pussylips like the last thing on his mind was breathing. 

Swooping his head even deeper and munching for more. More. More, more, more. 

Nanami crushes his mouth against your pussylips - so deep that you start to wonder whether his oral area would start to bruise—

And it’s only because of that broken call of his name that Nanami flinches. He freezes. He puffs out a murky breath. As if only now registering where he was, what he was doing, and just what his name was at the moment-

He’s breaking free from your pussy with an echoing slurp!

“K-Kento…” You’re looking on in pure worry at the dazed man - his eyes were still glazed, and there was something almost…feral about his demeanour still. Though he seemed to be much calmer than before, “Kento, are you okay to contin-”

“I am.” His voice comes out strong. Firm. Like he’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life. 

Nanami lets out a few stilted breaths- running a hand through his now-unruly hair. The glisten of a silver streak in it. “I am. I just…it’s been a long time…forever, actually, since I’ve tasted anything so delicious.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I hope you can forgive this old man for getting a little carried away, my dear.”

Was he really that ruined from but a single taste of your cunt?

He stares down so long and deeeep at your quivering pussy. That cute hole peeking out from your panties—“She’s just so…sweet.”

And though he was speaking to you, Nanami looks down lovingly between your legs. 

Now that he didn’t have his lips all plastered to your folds- he was rubbin’ his right thumb vertically down your slit.

Pressing down on the cute button of your clit-

“Awww did I scare you, honey? I sure hope I didn’t.” Honey, because you were just too sweet sizzlin’ on his tastebuds. Guiding one of your hands to grip his scalp, “Forgive me. When it gets like that, don’t be afraid to pull me- to use me, alright?”

“Kento, you don’t have to-”

“Consider it my second lesson.”

You squirm, “B-but don’t they say to…respect your elders, Kento?”

And you’re just too cute—he can’t help but flatten his palm down and spank your pussylips once more. It makes so many beads of slippery slick spray out from your cunt n’ glue against that chin of his. “You certainly can.” He hums, thoughtful. “But just remember- I won’t be respecting this pussy, honey.”

“I see.” You gape.

And while speaking to you - while speaking to you - Nanami lavishes out lil’ kitten licks between your folds. Lick. Lick. “I bet this pretty pussy’s never been eaten out like that before, huh?” He continues. Merely peeking up at you through blond lashes to confirm- and you can only nod—

Yet another spank sputtering down on your wet crevice.

“Words.” Nanami reminds. 

Hiccuping, “Yes, please. All those boys usually just like- graze my clit and that’s all.”

He nods. He continues, voice nothing but deep murmurs that sets your entire body aflame - and it’s as though the more syllables he’s uttering, the harder n’ harder he rubs on your clit. “Awww poor girl. I just can’t help but think of how long this pussy has been wasted on- haaah, boys who didn’t know how to handle her.”

“Too- too long.”

Lovingly—almost drunkenly, he’s pressing a direct peck against your hole. The tip of his tongue just lightly slipping out and teasing your entrance- Nanami’s free hand grips onto your thigh as if holding himself back. “Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He murmurs. “And how long has she waited to be eaten out by a man who isn’t afraid to get a little…sloppy?” 

“Too long-”

At this, he chuckles. “And as for my last question-” Not even smooching anymore- he’s just smeeeeaering his puffy lips along your slit. More rapid. More hungry. “Actually- take this as my third lesson.”

You’re scrambling up onto your elbows. “Yes?”

“Can you settle down like a good girl?”

Whatever that means…you aren’t given the time to figure out. Because before you know it, Nanami purses his lips and plants a wad of spittle that hits your cunt with a wet splat!

Only making you even wetter for him to gape his jaw open- “Fuck.” For him to swirl his ridged tip around and around your snug entrance until it left your mind all dizzy, it makes your cunt streeeeetch incredibly once he digs the tip of his tongue inside. Thoroughly.

It’s almost as if he was splitting you apart on the thickness of his tongue. 

Expanding and contracting. Expanding and contracting. 

The stretch is so incredible that it leaves your mind searing

“Settle down. Settle doooown-” He’s humming in a low tone. Whenever Nanami feels you squirmin’ or clenching just a tad too hard, he’s making note of that particular spot and bashing it all in again. Thick muscle reaching in and out for your deepest depths until your tight hole can’t take it anymore- until you’re screaming for mercy. 

“Oh fuh-fuuuuck—” You’re arching straight off the table, the fabric clinging onto your skin briefly. Only for a few split-seconds before one of Nanami’s hands fastens onto your hips, pushing you right back down where you came from.

“What did I say?” He wasn’t even using much of his strength- you were just so easy for him to move ‘round. Especially when he has his mouth attached to you in a way that was so ravenous—

Ruined. 

“Settle. Fucking. Down, girl.” 

Pinning you to the flat surface and letting his gaped maw run wiiiiiiild. It’s making you realize that he wasn’t going feral in the beginning- he was merely holding back.

Both in strength and in pure carnal hunger.

No matter how badly you were craving to grind down restlessly on his face for hours- Nanami keeps you on a tight leash. He keeps you restrained on the table n’ getting only what’s given. Pushing down. Maneuvering his greedy mouth. No matter how much you wanted to plant your feet down and take control - Nanami Kento really does know what’s best.

“Failing the third lesson already, huh?”

Tears stream down your cheeks without you even realizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t-”

“Shhhhh shh shh. No need for an apology, honey.” He opens his swollen lips up wider n’ latches them around your clit for a few seconds. “My poor girl’s just overstimulated because she’s getting her pussy eaten out, huh? This pretty pussy’s just excited?”

“Yes-”

“That’s why your Kento’s here.” Nanami hums, his cold glasses frames hit the front of your cunt and you flinch. Making the man push them up his nosebridge with a chuckle—“And m’gonna take care of this pussy, baby.”

The way that Nanami looks dead-set into your widened peripherals as he says this makes your heart race.

Spitting a few more times down your dribbling slit. He was teeeeasing you before reaching his right hand down n’ smearing your pussylips open with two fingers- the rugged tips of his index n’ middle streeetching your damp hole apart. Just so goddamn thick. “Fourth lesson: sometimes…fingers feel even better.”

“O-ohhh—” Your voice breaks out in carnal trills. Trying to bend your spine but then holding yourself back-

He was thrashing inside a few more sloppy strokes - swiping, slurping, scrapin’ every inch of your velvety walls. Anywhere you could think of, his thickened digits were pumping in. 

At one point, he flicks his glistening tongue outside for you to take in his sheer size. “Size does matter when it comes to pleasing this needy pussy, alright? Don’t let any fuckin’ boy convince you otherwise.”

You mewl, “I-I wouldn’t need another boy if I just had you, Kento…”

And there’s something in his tone that sounds ecstatic- “Mmm, good girl.” Showing you a demonstration of his previous statement by mazin’ away straight towards your g-spot. And you could feel yourself shaking- all those times you had to worry about whether a guy could manage to make you cum?

Nanami was eatin’ you out like his one and only purpose in life was to make you cum.

“Always teasing me.” He scoffs out in a scalding breath. Raggedly running his mouth- his tongue. “Always riling me up with those pretty looks and that- damn-” Pushing and pushing onto your g-spot so hard that it makes you sob out of pleasure. “-mouth.”

Your jaw drops. “I l-love it—fuck.” 

Practically on instinct, you’re gliding a hand down your tummy- where you could feel butterflies. They only seemed to grow even harder n’ rougher with his textured tongue…“I think I can feel you right- ngh, here.”

“S’that so? You love it, huh? I can feel this pussy growin’ so wet—She’s so fucking tight, bet she’s never been fingered properly before.” As if anticipating your next moves, he’s digging his fingers deeper against your flesh. Leaving little crescent marks.

Whatever rational part of you is left begins to wonder just why he might have to pin you down even harder.

“And for my fifth lesson, honey.”

You’re waiting with baited breath as he presses a few more heated-open-mouthed kisses. Nanami’s luscious tongue reaching spots inside you that you weren’t even sure you had - ones undiscovered—

And it’s the only warning you get before the puckered, pretty flaps of his mouth opens up your pussylips. Just past where your folds were all swollen n’ tight- it was quite a squeeze even when it was just his tongue. Just his fingers.

So to have both Nanami’s fingers and his tongue inside?

It was sheer madness.

It was driving you stupid with his touch in but a single stroke- the jostling feeling of his wet muscle and his digits pressing against your walls and each other. Your walls. Each other. Your walls. Each other. Your channel was so snug that even the slightest movements made it feel as though you were bulging from the inside.

Pressing in. Fucking in.

In and in, and in—

“A real man is- haaah, always hungry.” Alternating between slipping his tastebuds into your hole, and then fishing himself back out—not to breathe. No, not even close. He was merely roverin’ his mouth over to spank down on your clit. “A real man would never get tired of his lover, my dear.”

“Kento—ngh.” You’re echoing out. 

Your moans bang against the four corners of the room and straight into his ears- the prettiest song he’s ever heard. “See how good you feel? S’only my duty to you, my dear.” 

“But Kento-”

Mouth makin’ out with your cunt as if he’d gone mad, too.

“Kento, don’t you need to breathe-”

“Fifth lesson. Who cares about breathing?”

He gasps out in interruption. Tongue swiping at a constant rhythm - it was difficult to get a single syllable out when all Nanami wanted to do was stick himself to your cunt and lick and lick and lick—

Both of you are realizing at the same time that he’d miscounted.

“For my fifth…” And he sounded maddened, too. Octaves higher. Tone breathy. There was a feral sort of hunger in his eyes that shook you to your core- “Sixth…?” As if he was just so pussydrunk that it was causing his brain to melt, acting on pure carnal instinct. “For my sixth lesson, honey. This old man’s mind is a little foggy, you see…”

You don’t get the chance to answer.

Because with that, Nanami only accelerates. First those fingertips of his were shoved all the way in and making your walls twitch with every hard prod—thud-thud-thudding way. Then he was smoochin’ over that same bruised spot with his slithering tongue, just swipin’ up where you were most sensitive. 

Before draaaaagging all the way out and about to suck on your clit. Throbbing so hard that he managed to time his lil’ bites to each pulse.

It was a dual sensation that left you driven mad. Absolutely mad.

Rubbin’ his fingers absolutely raw on those knotted bundles of nerves- 

You buck.

You get hit with a sudden spank.

“Mmmm—do you think you deserved that, my dear?” He asks. Too cute- the more he eats you out, the more he’s twitching in his pants. 

You sob, but you’re nodding. “Y-yes…”

Another spank.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Kento.”

“Good girl.” And honestly you could feeeel that sultry stretch of his grin—gently dabbing his tongue over your clit. Nanami Kento might’ve been a stern man, but he certainly wasn’t merciless. “But forget one more time and I’ll make you call me ‘sir’.”

You couldn’t deny the way that made your cunt twitch…

“Seventh and final lesson.” Nanami pronounces, his mouth slicked with so many layers of your sap that it gleamed—he wore those dangles of goopy syrup like a medallion. “When I make you cum- hah, you better reward me by cumming aaaaaall inside my mouth, honey. Or my cock.”

Your throat was utterly parched by now. And the only thing you could do was rasp out- “U-understood, Kento…”

Soon enough, he was babbling out hot breaths of something you could barely even understand- though each promise only sounded more ravenous than the last. 

Mouth glued to your cunt. Nails digging into your skin. Rougher than you ever thought was possible before, he’s sucklin’ at your clit and pounding his fingers into you so hard that it looked like nothing but a blur—

Nanami counts one, two, three rapid clenches of your pussy walls-

Before you’re throwing your head back and absolutely shattering into your high because of him.

Your toes curling. Your throat ragged raw.

His textured tastebuds are swipin’ across every bead of slick you were dripping out. Dripping. Every bead of slick. All over your puffy pussylips. All between them till he meets your hole- even all the way up your inner thighs.

He wasn’t letting a single bit go to waste.

Not even as that translucent sap dribbles down the sides of his mouth and ends up splashin’ right up to his handsome cheekbones-

The pleasure washes over you twofold - both with your orgasm and the way that Nanami was eloooongating your orgasm. Both his fingers and his mouth were working overtime to press into each peak of your high. “O-oh—” Thighs trembling on top of his shoulders- you don’t know when, but they end up locked so tight around his head. “It feels s-so good.”

Each tiny curve of his fingers made your body twitch in the aftershocks. “Extra lesson- fuck back into me.”

“Wh-what?”

It takes you a significant amount of effort to even open your eyes - let alone start to swerve your body uuup n’ down. And yet you’re doing it anyway—moaning as you ride all of Nanami’s handsome features in looooong, sloppy drags. “Fuh-fuck, like this?”

And he was just loving it.

“Mhmmm.” He gurgles out. Cracking one eye open, “Exactly. I know this is the best fuckin’ orgasm you’ve ever experienced, my dear.”

He wasn’t even being cocky - and you usually would’ve called him out on it - this was just plain true. “I-it is-”

“I know this pretty pussy wants it again, my dear.”

You can only nod.

“I know I surely want to eat her again, my dear.”

And nod and and nod as he’s fucking you through even the tiniest peaks and spasms—the surplus of bliss making your veins bubble. Burst. Bulldoze your senses as you’re practically vibrating with the sheer amount of pleasure that runs through them.

There seems to be a hazy aura covering your vision as you finally ride through your entire high.

Struggling up onto your elbows once more-

“Stay down—”

“Yes…?” Your eyes widen at Nanami’s strict order. He leaves a final slurping kiss at your clit before he stands onto his feet. Slightly swaying—

There was a glaze over his eyes. There was your slick coating all the way from his lower face, and puddling dooown to form a dark patch on his button-up. There were the short, panted breaths he was emanating - like a predator honed in on his prey - the longer he looked at you splayed out on the messy table.

Nanami Kento almost looked drunk - and not on the dinner, not even on the sparse wine. 

He was completely n’ utterly ruined on nothing other than your pussy.

He lunges towards you-

“Fuck, Kento—” You’re squealing at the rugged hands that tear through your clothes as easily as if they were butter. Shirt and bra easily landing on the carpeted floor- and your skirt was to follow before you even realized.

You’re just about to help Nanami shuffle you out of your panties - hips raising to facilitate it - before he takes another look at you. One long, hard look. And his hands leave your body as though that was enough-

He wanted your panties on.

Nothing but a sopping wet mess twisted ‘round your hips. Evidence of his depravity. 

“I want these off then.” You’re reaching up to tug on one of Nanami’s sleeves. He was still partly in his office clothes: button-up, formal pants, tie. And those sleeves of his had been pushed up to his elbows during your dinner, leaving you struggling not to gawk at the older man’s forearms. Strong. Slightly veined. Slightly tanned. 

He was just so attractive that it made you squirm. 

Nanami looks down at himself and lets out a hoarse—“Oh…right.” Like he’d been so caught up in you that he hadn’t even realized he was still clothed.

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Those neat white buttons end up flinging to the ground- useless against his sheer desperation. Nanami wastes no time before tearing through his layers, ripping them off. Fabric pools onto the carpet below. His belt buckle clangs as it hits the ground.

Gentlemen couldn’t deny such a thing when their lover’s asking so nicely, could they? At least Nanami couldn’t-

And fuck…

Now, you always assumed that Nanami Kento was the kind of guy to be well-built. It was naturally in the way he moved, the way he stood, in the broadness of his shoulders.

But you’d never in your wildest dreams could have imagined that he’d be this chiselled. This toned.

You have to stop yourself from ogling him—you have to. But you can’t help it.

Not when Nanami’s body was ridged and curved in muscle- almost Herculean in nature. He had pecs that looked lush enough for you to bite - and you could already feel your mouth start to water - with a faint coating of golden and silver hair scattered across his skin. Wide shoulders. Trim waist.

His biceps flexin’ as he moves onto the buttons of his pants.

Lined through the middle with similar golden hair that drove down, down, down…

But you think your favorite part of him wasn’t the muscles or the hardness- no. Though they were certainly a nice addition, what made your pussy throb the most was just how…thick Nanami Kento was.

It was evident that Nanami was the type of person who liked hitting the gym often- but then again, it was evident that Nanami was the type of person who didn’t have the time to be hitting the gym often.

As often as he used to, at least.

And you? You were loving it.

Because all those muscles of his were naturally-formed. But with all the years of responsibilities as a father which meant his body was comforted by a layer of slight chub, big. Strong. Suddenly, you understood why ‘dad-bods’ were all the craze on social media—because you - for one - couldn’t help but linger your eyes at the sight of the softness to his shape. The slight roundness to his belly, abs barely peaking through.

“My dear…”

“Kento.”

He presses a thumb against the hemline of his trousers-

And then he’s letting you see him—all of him. 

From his V-shaped waist to his meaty thighs.

So thick. So strong.

You just wanted to be crushed between them.

And right down to the furious cock that stood upright and erect between them. Such a bulbous red tip, streaming with never-ending ribbons of pre. Such a thickened shaft that made you swallow—he had so many veins zipping down either side of him. You think he was about nine or so inches- perhaps on the lower end.

Before you’d realized it, you’d been reaching your hand between his legs- only for Nanami to stop you in your tracks.

“K-Kento…”

His thick fingers intertwine with yours and press your hand down on the tabletop. “Honey, you don’t have to reciprocate.” The older man stares deeply into your eyes- “You don’t owe me anything. I ate your pretty pussy out because I’ve been starving for her.”

“But I still want to.” You insist.

“Mmmm, how about after then?” He reaches his free hand up n’ thumbs across your bottom lip. “As much as I want to paint these beautiful lips with my cum, there’s another pair who’ve been waiting patiently for their turn…”

You shiver, “Erm- Kento, you should know that…this is my first time.”

He pauses. “Excuse me, my dear?”

“I’ve never done it before.” Looking up at him through your tear-draped lashes. “You’ll be my first.”

The thought takes a second to register in the older man’s sex-hazed mind. That animalistic part of him being overpowered by the rational.

Your first time.

Your first time.

Your first time.

He was about to take the virginity of that cute lil’ nanny he’s had his eye on for so long. “Honey, are you su-”

“Yes.”

Nanami almost moans at the sheer eagerness in your voice - your eyes were shining, and your legs locked tighter around him. “Well…” The man starts, dipping two thumbs down to your glistening pussy and spreading your folds wide open. He takes a good look at your entrance in comparison to the thickness of his cock, “Brace yourself then, my dear. S’gonna be a tight fuckin’ fit.”

In a split-second, he’s jerking his hips closer and smoochin’ your naked cunt with his cock. His rounded tip spreading your pussylips. His shaft sliding between your slit and massaging you with his veins.

Nanami was so goddamn hard that it looked painful.

And what better way to alleviate the pain than by pushing his pretty lil nanny’s legs apart and shoving his cock between them? Aching and needy for you.

Nanami was big enough to fuck you stupid with just his tip.

And he knows it, too. Having such a hard time completely fittin’ in his crowned girth, he just barely fucks the top of his shaft inside before groaning. Taking a peek at the way you were squirming below him, sobbing below him. Absolutely ruined- “Shit, honey.” Cupping his hilt with his left hand- Shit, honey, can you recite the lessons for me?”

You’re wobbling up onto your elbows, “Recite them?”

He can only nod. “Just—oh.” Cut off with the slightest sliiiiide between your sweet, swollen pussylips- he’s only managing to nudge the rounded edge of his length. “Just recite them. You have them memorized f’me like a good girl, yeah?”

“Yes-” Nodding frantically. “Yes, Kento-”

And that cute obedience of yours is enough to make him smile- tap-tap-tappin’ away the curve of his tip down there. For absolutely no other reason than wanting to. “Good.” He reels his hips back. “Then say it f’me, my dear.” And then forwards- “Say it while I fuck you.”

And the only thing you can fucking do is to babble out those words- the very same ones that’d been drilled into you. “The first lesson is that—fuck.” All the while Nanami’s probin’ tip enters your hole in a sudden thrust. “-th-that big girls use their words.”

Nanami grunts, voice shot. “Goooood good good- keep breathing now.” Hand clawing down your front—feeling for himself as he pumps inside. Tiiiight fucking fit, like he said. He almost wonders whether it would go in- “And then?”

“The second…” 

But it’s almost impossible to remember- to even think with those rapidfire haaaard hammers of his cock. 

That curved tip of his shaft kept pushing iiiin with the most lecherous squelches, drawing more n’ more sweetened slick out of you with every single thrust. That stretch was just incredible- it was making you see white. Just the first few inches of his pretty pink cock squeezing inside and pushing in and in and in—

Thwack!

Those rugged fingertips of his come spanking back down on your cunt - this time, however, they fit between your pussylips and latch onto your clit. And they stay there. He’s tuggin’ on that poor nub a few times just to bring you back to your senses- “Awww, you didn’t think you’d go unpunished for that—-did you, my dear?”

“I-I—no.” Because tears stream down your cheeks, and Nanami still isn’t letting go. He’s flopping out his tongue and lapping at that salty flavor-

“Then continue.” Humming at the taste of you. Fitting and fitting and—trying to stretch your elastic hole out to take him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt something like this. “You’re doing so good. Keep going for Kento.”

Thwack!

“Keep talking, honey.”

“Second lesson-” Unable to do anything but arch your back, you’re being met with Nanami’s soft chest. Those pecs. The thundering of his heartbeat. It’s enough to make your mouth already water—“t-to…use you.”

He leans in, “What was that, my dear? Old man, you know…”

“To use you-”

“To not be afraid to use me.” He corrects. 

And it’s the last thing you hear before both Nanami’s hands snake down to grab your ankles- restraining them. Tightening them.

He’s bending you easily in half.

Legs on top of his shoulders. Thighs against thighs.

Pushing you all the way back into a mating press.

A fucking mating press.

Of course the hot DILF that you’re nannying for puts you in a mating press. Of fucking course!

And it’s only causing you to become wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life- your head falls back against the table surface. Thud! An action that makes the older man on top of you reach behind n’ cushion the back of your scalp. “Easy there, my dear. Eeeeeasy.” His left palm lightly massages your sweaty head. 

“K-Kento-” Through your tears.

“Easy there- third lesson, remember?” 

“To s-settle down…”

“That’s my girl.” Nanami hums, head threatening to tip backwards at the sensations of your quivering cunt. It’s impossible to keep his mind when you were gushing out so much slick that it coats his shaft and leaves his ballsack all drenched.

And if he was this gone, then where did that leave you? 

Well, you were just babbling away the pretty syllables of his lessons. “The f-fourth lesson is that fingers feel better.” Hips bucking upwards. “The fifth is that real men are hungry—” Eyes scrunching with tears. That large circumference of his were pushing into tender spots n’ crevices that you didn’t even know you had - it felt as though your poor pussy was being split by him. Push after push.

After probe after probe.

Just animalistically trying to fit inside—

“The sixth- the sixth-”

“Breathe, honey.” Those smoky words of his scorch your face, as if Nanami himself was burning from the inside out. And there truly was a feverish tint to his words—to his actions, fuckin’ away sloppily between your pussylips. Slurp after slurp. “Breeeeeeathe- c’mon do it with me.” 

Conducting you through these relaxation exercises for a few strokes.

Listening to his own advice - that fourth lesson - his right hand lifts off of your thighs to roll over your throbbing clit. Just so neglected by now, it makes you see white to have him massaging that sweet spot all slow and sensual.

“The sixth lesson is…who cares about breathing?”

“Mhmmm.”

A guttural tone that sent vibrations straight from your drippin’ core and up to your brain. Only growing more muddled by the inch- “And oh! The extra.” As all good students do, you’re deciding to show a demonstration. How sinful that this sort of demonstration is you balancing your hips on the table n’ choosing to bounce right up to meet Nanami’s rutting hits. His pounces. “To- ngh, fuck back into you.”

“Oh, good girl- this old man almost forgot that one.” Sleazily, he’s pushing his glasses up his nosebridge.

Staring at the lewd sight below of you griiiiinding your hips up into his. It was just so messy because your lips were jittery with pleasure.

His happy trail rubs carnally on top of your clit- and it sends you into a frenzy—

“F-fuck that was-”

“Shhhh shh shh, easy.”

You waddle your ankles from their perch atop his shoulders. “Yes, I know-” Hissing out—“I’m breathing, Kento. I’m listening to what you’re saying, promise…”

“Good girl. Now inhale.” Of course, you can’t help but take a looooong gasp of the heady air thick in the dining room - the candles were scented like roses. “And-”

“And…?”

And Nanami doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t bother telling you to exhale before his fat, throbbing cock is fucking every volume of air from your lungs. In this mating press, he could hit each angle even deeper than before - and that meant you’re feeling his thick circumference bruise all the way against your womb.

Your cervix.

Bottomed all the way out and Nanami was pummeling his length away as if there was even more, more, more of him left. A hint of something metallic hits his nostrils—and he can’t hold back the victorious chuckle that leaves him. He’s done it. “Continue.”

“I—what-” Struggling to catch your breath. “Oh my fucking-”

“Continue.”

“Who cares about breathing-”

A sixth lesson that he was fully demonstrating.

He really was mean.

He really was merciless.

Because he was fucking you into the dinner table like a damn animal—and the thing is Nanami wasn’t even going at a particularly fast pace in order to leave you speechless. He wasn’t merely half-thrusting away and hoping that you liked it. He wasn’t just tracin’ his cockhead down the sweet spots at the back of your pussy.

Nanami Kento was holding you down tight in his mating press. He has one hand gripping onto the back of your scalp - such a gentle gesture turned so sinful - and another crushin’ the fatness of his palm to your pussy.

Purposefully, the older man pushes the edge of his palm down on your clit. Harder. Harder. Harder.

And he was drilling into you harder by the second, too. Harder didn’t mean faster.

Just draaaagging every inch of his vein-covered shaft down your slick channel - he’s making sure that you can feel every single curve n’ ridge down his cock. He’s making sure that he massages your insides so thoroughly that it feels as though you’re being molded to his cock. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You swear you’re seeing the pearly gates spread wide open before your very eyes. “O-oh my god-” Reaching your hands up, Nanami lowers his strong body further into yours. Pushing you down against the dinner table, the pressure from all sides is too much that you have to claaaw down his perfect back. “Kento, what—fuck. I didn’t know that it could feel like this-”

And deep inside, you can feel his thickened tip flinching. Directly at your g-spot. “Mhm?”

“Yeah-” Voice shattering in your throat as his circumference swells just a few millimeters thicker inside of you. He was growing even bigger, harder, just by the sensations of your slurping cunt. “I-it just feels so good- I’ve never been fucked like this.”

“Honey…” Nanami’s mean yet pointed tone makes you stare up at him. “You’ve never been fucked before me.‘

“Oh.”

“Your virginity is mine.”

“Oh.”

Just that gone on his cock that you’d almost forgotten - even the realization itself seems to take up too much storage inside your already-muddled brain. Now filled with only the thought of him n’ his achingly hot cock—pouring out bucketloads of precum until it sloshed around inside.

Inside and inside.

Stirring ‘round and ‘round with his probin’ cockhead. He pushes deep into spots that you hadn’t even known existed, let alone could be smooched away by his pulsating shaft. He constantly whacks your g-spot until it feels numb.

Enough to render you speechless- 

“—graduated.”

And that makes your eyes blink open. “Wh-what?” 

“Oh, honey…” Nanami plants a loving peck on your lips- until that peck turns into a rugged bite. “What world are you on, hm? S’my cock that good? Awww, my poor girl—here.” Nanami’s perspired forehead sticks against yours. This time, he’s staring deeply into your eyes as he pronounces the words, “You’ve graduated.”

You cock your head in confusion, “From university?”

He chuckles, fine lines popping out from the edges of his eyes. You’re noticing that his glasses have slightly fogged up by now- “No, silly girl. From my lessons.”

“Oh…” Pouting, “But I liked your lessons, Kento.”

“Mmmm, you’ll like this one even more.” Dipping down- Nanami presses his stern lips right to the shell of your left ear. Whispering as if a secret shared by no one but the two of you in this world, “Remember how Yuji mentioned he wanted a little brother…”

A jolt goes through your body- as does the realization.

“If you’d like then-”

“Yes.” You know it might be rash. But looking at him like this - looking at Nanami Kento so deep in the pangs and plunges of his carnal pleasure - how could you deny what you want? “Yes—”

The blond man’s breaths start to grow heavier, eyes slightly widened. For the first time in the longest time, he actually looks like his usually-sensible self. Those molten eyes of his search yours for an answer- “Honey, really think this throu-”

“I did.” You’re insisting. And if that wasn’t enough, he could feel your wobbly ankles surge with the strength to lock ‘round his neck. “Inside, Kento.”

Nanami’s mouth moves noiselessly with an answer, but his cock does all the swelling. So painfully hard that you were sure it was tougher than rocks-

And there’s only one thing left for you to do. “Inside…sir.”

If he was any less of a gentleman - of a man, really - then Nanami would’ve cum inside you then and there. At least in his mind—which was focused solely on digging his heels into the carpet, solely on gritting his teeth and holding his damn cock back from pouring out those wads of cum like he knew he wanted to.

Was on the verge of doing.

He was instead collapsing the entirety of his weight upon your body- feeling your limbs strain, hearing your joints pop. But not even that noise crackling in his eardrums is enough to get the man to slow down.

Now he was just fucking you sloppy—grunts filtering between his grit canines by the minute. By the thrust. “The first to fuck you.” And what a rare occasion: to hear the ever-eloquent Nanami Kento stutter. “I’ll be the first to breed you too, my dear.”

“Oh—fuck, yes.” Your entire body shivers in excitement. You could feel the pit of pleasure starting to grow in your stomach. 

“I’ll be the first to give this pretty cunt a taste of cum.” And you could hardly believe that such a sinful sentence was leaving the confines of his mouth—“She’s probably so thirsty by now, no? I’ll be the first to quench that thirst, my dear, just you wait-” Pinching your clit between the fingers on his right hand once more. “-mama.”

Really, if you were calling him ‘sir’ then it was only fair for him to call you by that pretty nickname. Something primal awakens inside of you-

“I’ll be the first one to stuff this pretty pussy-” Nanami gurgles out, eyes locking in on your stomach. That was where his rounded tip occasionally made an appearance by bulging through your flesh n’ skin as he fucked inside you. “-with so much of my cum that you’ll be bloated.”

You gasp hysterically, “Yes-” So turned on that it almost hurt - you wanted him. Now. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“I’ll be the first to make you feel me in here- for weeks. Months.” Thrust after thrust. Pinch after pinch. It was incredible how much he was stimulating you to tears- “I’ll be the first where—when you walk down the street, everyone will know that I fucked you. Everyone will know that- that this pretty pussy is mine, that I’m the one fuckin’ her and stuffing her and—and giving her my cum every night.”

Rolling a sweet, sweet heart on top of your clit.

“They’ll know that I’m the one fuckin’ the cute, sweet lil’ nanny—all of them. The professors. Those parents at pick-up. Your friends. My friends.” He chuckles darkly. And he doesn’t care who’d be scandalized. “Wanna know why, my honey?”

“Wh-why—” You sob out.

And he leans in to whisper in your ear- “Because I’ll be the one making you a momma.”

Until you’re all round and glowing with his seed.

Until you’re so full of him that you can’t take anymore.

Until you’re so stuffed that you wouldn’t be able to hide it- he hopes you’re walking ‘round with his cum between your legs for weeks.

It’s taking only that and a single puuuush against your g-spot for you to topple off the edge of your high. Bliss pumping through your veins in waves, you couldn’t escape from the constant throb and ebb of it. Dimming the edges of your vision. Making the lights seem brighter.

Again and again and again—

He’s probin’ inside that swollen cockhead to push you through the bouts of your pleasure. In the time he’s had you like this, Nanami’s already mapped out where every single one of your sweetest spots where- and first he’ll thwack! his hand upon your clit. Then he’ll move onto your tender bruised spots at the rim, then his cock delves deeper until he’s hitting your g-spot—then again and again he’s knockin’ on your womb.

Filling it with so much of his cum.

“Breathe.” Your orgasm hits you so hard that you have to manually control your breathing- and Nanami’s right beside you. Walking you through every step, every exhale and inhale. “Breathe iiiiiin.”

You’re sucking in a breath. “Fuck-”

And it’s just then that he’s emptying out a particularly powerful wave of his own euphoria. Balls clenching as his ribbony white cum leaks near your cervix- with your breath sucked in, you’re only feeling the sensations even stronger. “And out.”

Panting out with a whine. “Fuuuuck- f-feels so good.”

Too good, almost.

You never knew it could feel like this to have someone pourin’ out all their lecherous sap inside of you- the thick layers clinging onto either side of your walls. There’s so much of it - so much volume that you wondered just how he managed to keep it all stuffed inside - frothing out and forming a circle of white ‘round Nanami’s hilt. Gleaming with every thrust. Puddling out and sticking your thighs together— 

Head throwing slightly back, though still peeking at you through his lashes. “Honey…”

Nanami’s gruff tone makes you jump. “Yes?” Still slightly twitching from the aftershocks of your incredible high.

He stares into your eyes with a slight smile. Something unreadable. “You forgot the seventh lesson earlier.”

The seventh…?

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

It’s with a sudden cold thrill that you’re registering what he said- and remembering the mistake you’d made during your recitations earlier. “I-it was to cum all over-”

“That’s quite alright, my dear. No need to tell me now.” Nanami smiles the sweetest smile that makes your cunt start to throb - his eyes shuttered closed, his lips pecking yours. His cock shovels a long, hard thrust inside you—“But I will have to rescind your graduation.”

You gape, “What, why-”

“Until you’re completely and fully stuffed by me.” He grumbles out the rest of his statement. His condition. 

Hands rovering all over your body, Nanami makes sure that every slight tingle of your high has passed before he’s pulling out of you with a loud sluuuuurp! Immediately scooping you up into a princess carry n’ walking in the direction of his bedroom.

It isn’t long before you find yourself draped over Nanami Kento’s large mattress - on all fours so that he can slip inside you with ease. Pumping away immediately- “Until you’re fuckin’ pregnant, consider that you’re still taking lessons.”

You’re sobbing into your newly-caught pillow. “Oh—oh fuck.”

To which Nanami leans over and snatches your neck into a fucking headlock- his strong biceps pushing against the sides of your throat. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear. When this is all done- fuck, m’gonna show you how much I love you.”

“I l-love you—” Feeling his rounded tip immediately pierce across your g-spot and towards your womb. Full. “-too.”

“Mmm, I love you more.” Watching as you shake and quiver. “We’ll get you something sweet after this, honey, don’t you worry.” He hums- before sneaking a look at the both of you through the mirror in his bedroom and chuckling. 

Ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

“If we make it out of Valentine’s Day alive, that is.” 

Maybe Shoko could babysit Yuji a little longer?

“Papa’s gonna do his best to try for a second child, alright?”

.

.

.

Morning shed its sunlight like the clothes upon Nanami’s apartment floor.

A stream of white-gold Sun, the richness of the day, enters through his windows and splays out perfectly on the bed. It dapples light across his naked chest and leaves him stirring—

Valentine’s Day.

The dinner.

The table.

You. Being taken on the table.

Afterwards on this very bed, afterwards on the damn bedroom floor after he heard a snap coming from somewhere on the bed frame. He’d shovelled himself n’ his gooey white sap inside you until the Sun had risen—

And it’s enough to make him jerk upright in his bed.

Blankets falling around his waist, sleepy eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

From here, he couldn’t see what’d been made of your clothes in the dining room- or your panties in his bedroom. But it was obvious that you weren’t here. If from your physical presence, then from the warmth you brought into his drafty Tokyo home.

Just to make sure, he casts several wide-eyed looks around the room - breath-still in case there was a single noise from the kitchen - and still…nothing. Absolutely nothing.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t want to make sense of.

Of course, what was he thinking? He’d said…those words to you last night- but just because you’d said them back didn’t mean it was real. It was probably in the heat of the moment, you’d probably snuck out before dawn broke so you didn’t have to face him. You’d probably woken up disgusted.

He didn’t blame you - there were no promises between the two of you. And even if there had been, he knows he can’t find it in himself to get angry at you.

If anything - if you chose to quit after this - he supposes he’ll have to start looking for a nanny again. Something in Nanami’s chest twists, and he reaches up to rub the spot where his heart was.

He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it still led him back to you. He wouldn’t mind the long and tedious process if it meant you were there with him - not as a nanny, just yourself being you.

It was a cold morning.

And Nanami Kento was clenching his sheets, just about to throw his legs over the side of the bed and get out—he needed to put away his clothes anyways before Shoko came with Yuji. What was the time anyway? It was his off-day today, and maybe he could take Yuji out to the park to take his mind off of-

And it’s then that several things happen at once.

Nanami’s eyes catch the face of the clock on his bedside cabinet: 12:48PM.

Nanami’s jaw drops at just how late it is.

Nanami snatches his phone off of the cabinet and makes to race outside while calling Shoko-

And he makes it about two frantic steps, too, before getting stopped by a sudden squeal of laughter. Loud and bubbling. Euphoric.

Of course, it was none other than his son. 

Echoing a short burst of laughter throughout the apartment- before abruptly cutting himself off with a pronounced ‘shhhhhh!’ It rings even louder than his laugh, and reaches Nanami’s ears alongside some words. “Sowwy! Yuji promises not to wake papa!”

And Nanami’s brows furrow, wondering whether Shoko had somehow managed to forge a key to his apartment and get in. Before out of nowhere—your voice is the one that answers him.

“S’alright, sunshine.” You’re using that nickname he always did. Sleepiness was still laced into your tone, and he could tell it hadn’t been long since you must’ve waddled away. 

Since you must’ve put away the clothes in the dining room, since you must’ve opened the door for Yuji - Nanami would hate to imagine the smug look on Shoko’s face then, but the surplus of texts from her were already doing the job. “Papa needs to be awake for breakfast-in-bed, doesn’t he?”

The smell of pancakes drifts through the bedroom door - along with Yuji’s answering call. “True…but what if papa won’t wake up?”

“Then we eat the pancakes.”

“Yes—” Yuji echoes, “Thank you, Cupid.”

“Hm?”

“Because Cupid made you n’ papa married, right?” But of course. It leaves you stunned for a few seconds, and Yuji obliviously chattering. “I’ve always wanted to keep you- papa, too. Even though I know he won’t say—can we keep you now, Ms. Nanny?”

Your voice sounds slightly thicker than before. “You can keep me as long as you want, Yuji.”

“Thank you, Cupid!”

Two evil cackles, and the sound of footsteps.

You’re opening the door with a flood of sunlight and a tray of pancakes in your hand. Yuji rushes in after you with a call of ‘good morning’ - and by the smile on your face…yeah.

Yeah, it really is a good morning.

He still doesn’t know how to explain to Yuji that the two of you aren’t married yet, however.

It’s in an hour that you finally break the news- but rush to assure the little boy before he bursts into tears, that he could ‘keep you’ as long as he wanted. And that the two of you were together—yes, together together. Nanami puts off answering Shoko (she ambushes him for gossip the very next day). 

It’s in a month that you start officially calling yourselves lovers - boyfriend and girlfriend, whatever it is. It seems like so much more than that, however. And so Nanami just settles for introducing you as his partner at those tedious work dinners.

It’s in a few more months that those work dinners become the last he’s attending. Because Nanami Kento quits that damn job, using everything he’s saved up to buy a little bakery and a house just a small ways off from the heart of the city - not quite the countryside as he once imagined, but this was good, too. It was still a manageable distance from your university and Yuji’s school, and yet so much bigger than the apartment.

It’s in a year that Nanami’s bakery is at the height of business - a figure that will only keep growing as the years pass by. Word spreads far and wide about those treats- and soon enough, he’s forced to fire extra hands and more part-timers than he ever thought would be needed. The little bakery grows into a big bakery, with time.

You couldn’t have been more happy to see those dark circles underneath his eyes cease for once, to see him pursue his dreams. Yuji couldn’t have been more happy to get all the sweet treats he could’ve ever wished for.

And now, Nanami could buy him all the car beds he could’ve ever wished for.

He also starts looking into wedding rings.

He still isn’t sure about a Spiderman-themed wedding, but he knows he’ll be baking the cake.

A/N. Hehehe that Nanami and the flowers scene was inspired by my father having a tradition to always buy me a bouquet as well today.

“But the absence of a tsahìk-”

“Mawey- do slow down.” For not the first time since their trek started, Gojo is turning his head behind him. He might have been a firm leader, but he wasn’t unfair. He watches the Herwi hunters that extend from his feet to far beyond hills of ice and frost - some middle-aged and weathered by the snow already, some fresh-faced and cold with the eagerness to prove themselves. Following them were six-legged canines they called txeylan—powerful hinds pulling sleds piled high with hunt. “The younger ones are having trouble keeping up.”

Gaping, the elder looks between his leader and the younger members near the middle of their group. Flanked by older Na’vi. “But- but olo’eyktan-”

He’s looking up at the irritated sky, “I will see no further talking.”

Though there is an easy smile across his face, the elders know not to cross him. Senior in age—only age. 

They bowed their heads and looked away above all because he is their leader, but below that - deep, deeeeeep below what their prides would allow them to ever admit - because they knew he was stronger. The strongest.

The heir born of a blizzard, Satoru of the snow. 

It was said he opened his eyes during the coldest night of that year. Ice-blue. Bitter blue. Like the pools of crystallized water that the Herwi people would dance their celebrations upon - and that night they held the longest celebrations to date. Arms in arms and singing songs. And giving thanks and giving the young his first taste of snow. 

And though the position of olo’eyktan had an aspect of inheritance to it either way, it was undeniable that the world had just borne their future leader.

He’d grown up taller than other Na’vi his age. Stronger. Stormy flurries wherever he stepped, and a blizzard himself. 

There almost seemed to be a gap between him and everyone else.

Gojo had been sixteen when he was officially granted the mantle of ‘The Strongest’ by the clan. It was only about time, and only because of the elders’ reluctance that it’d taken this long.

And now it was impossible to say whether he was more loved or respected as a leader: the more boisterous of the younger Na’vi certainly loved him, the elders couldn’t stand him, the ones of mating age just couldn’t get enough of him. Though it was all for naught.

In all the twenty-eight years that he’d sifted through these snows - in all the ten years since he’d come of age - Gojo hadn’t so much as looked at another with a degree of infatuation.

Not for a lack of propositions- in fact, if you asked his attendants then they’d tell you that Gojo had a surplus of propositions. At least five Na’vi would stroll up the familiar pathway to his underground hut, calling out sing-song wishes to braid his hair, to walk amongst the ice glaciers together, to mend his fur clothes. 

Hopefuls. 

His attendants were ordered to send them all away with a gift from the olo’eyktan and a firm rejection (though, Gojo finds that that certainly didn’t deter them…)

They just didn’t seem to understand why such a suitable young Na’vi seemed to be waiting…watching…for something even he himself didn’t seem to understand. Always turning his blue eyes to the skies, ever since he was a child, always, always-

Gojo stops in his tracks.

One of his arms raises to halt the procession behind him. 

The Na’vi hunters freeze.

The Na’vi hunters let their tails swish.

The txeylan sniff the air.

Gojo’s long pointed ears twitch in every direction before resting in a single direction up ahead - where the belly of the snow seemed to swell with something. Something that the recent snowstorm had swallowed.

“Olo’eyktan…” One of the younger Herwi behind him whispers. “What is it?”

“Mawey. It might be a dead snow beast.” He hisses, though he knew that wasn’t right. It wasn’t uncommon for even the creatures of these terrains to be bested by nature. But something about the figure in the snow was…different from the hounding things they hunted. Much more delicate, much more scrunched in on itself.

Gojo keeps his hand held high in the air and passes on his hunt to the nearby clansmen. Still holding onto his bow and arrows, he edges closer. “Ì’awn- the clan stays here while I investigate.” Leaving no room for a word edgewise.

The wind whips his long hair and kuru as the Na’vi steps closer. And some maddened part of him almost feels that it was as though Eywa, their goddess, herself was trying to get him to stay away.

But an even madder part of him wanted to get closer—needed to get closer.

He was being drawn in.

Making not even a single noise with his padded feet, he’s crouching down before the unmoving figure and using his long skeletal fingers to wipe away those dredges of snow. 

Away from a face—

He gasps.

The rest of the Herwi startles behind him, “What is it- what is it, olo’eyktan?”

“Is it a snow beast? Must we commence the rituals-”

“Cease! Are those fingers it has-”

“Five?”

But Gojo doesn’t answer their queries, instead he’s silently pressing his ear to the swell of the body’s chest and—ba-dump!

Listening to that faint heartbeat.

He’s not sure how this little human was still alive, and he pulls back to look at them- the first he’s ever seen. Gojo has already heard the whispers from other Na’vi clans, of these aliens named mankind whom had settled upon Pandora a few years ago.

He’s heard about humanity’s wits, their machinery, their greed.

He’s heard of the way they’ve hurt his people.

But he’s never seen one up so…close. Were they all this small? How could something so small be so destructive?

Gojo tilts his head down at you and runs one of his cold indexes down the side of your masked face, did they all look so hurt by the cold? He can’t imagine that it didn’t hurt- after all, the only reason that the Herwi had managed to reside in these mountains for hundreds of years was because of its harsh environment. Not human nor animal nor Na’vi wanted to be here—but Gojo always loved this place, as did his people.

He wondered whether it was such passionate love or hate that drew the little human in his arms to climb such peaks. To come this far. 

He can’t help but lean down and scoop the human up into his arms.

“O-olo’eyktan what is the meaning of this-”

“Fnu- shhhh.” Gojo responds in his native language, “She’s resting.”

The olo’eyktan carries the human all the way back the treacherous path to his clan huts.

And every time he looked down, he could see the way that smaller body fell and rose with each faint breath. He could see the flying of human-made coats that did nothing to fight off the cold of Pandora. He could see the pen and notebook stuffed inside it as if they were the most precious treasure of all.

He can see you.

.

.

.

Day #1 in the Herwi village: 

Woke up in what seems to be the healer’s hut, a wide insulated space that is more or less steeped into the underground with a berth of the entrance AS (above snow). Capped dome on top. Walls are composed of wooden planks on the interior flanked by compact ice from the outside, decorated in the thick furs of what appears to be snow beasts. Long book shelves. Kindling lantern of something bioluminescent and emitting heat. Shockingly warm inside. Vents are present but small to prevent an excess of thin air. Separate storage spaces and areas for examination, implications of advanced surgery and medical procedures taking place far beyond what we humans can understand.

Though Herwi healing techniques seem to be similar to that of other Na’vi clans (particularly the Omaticaya) in terms of relation to Eywa and natural resources, it must be noted that Herwi healing makes prominent use of ice for anti-inflammatory and vessel constricting methods.

Sparse presence of herbs and more emphasis on pressure points (for a copy of the Herwi circulatory system diagram see Page 8…), though the olo’eyktan reassures that there are a multitude of flora endemic to the Pandoran heights. 

The olo’eyktan seems particularly eager to give a tour?

With your eyes blinking open…you think you’ve died and gone onto whatever there was afterwards.

It would’ve been just like you to meet your demise during the pursuit of your research- the higher-ups at your laboratory predicted the same thing. The last thing you remember before blacking out was feeling faint - weeks of hiking up this arduous peak and you’d run out of your provisions a few days ago, surviving on only melted ice to fill your belly. At least, until the sudden threat of a snowslide had resulted in you abandoning your tent and bags behind for escape.

From then on it had only been: you, your pen, your notebook with your research, your translator, and your burning passion to find the Herwi.

It was no surprise that you didn’t last long.

But you suppose you just didn’t expect the ‘afterwards’ to be a blue, blue summer sky. 

Oh—how you missed the cloud-frothed ocean of blue down on Earth. It was never quite the same on Pandora, and you’re just beginning to wonder whether heaven was really home-

“Yawne, txen?”

Before your muddled mind realizes that this really wasn’t your sky after all.

What you were looking up into were the eyes of a Na’vi warrior.

He’s leaning his overlarge body above yours, and you’re pressing yourself flatly against a mattress—one that was made of copious amounts of furs and the softest spun wool to make you feel as though you were floating up on the clouds.

But the farther you’re getting, the more he dwarfs you with his curious peering.

Closer.

And the only thing you can do is look up into his handsome blue face- the lightest of blues you’ve ever seen. 

Now, you have to start this off by saying that every single Na’vi you’ve seen was beautiful—every single one of them. 

But you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone like him before: long white hair, blue eyes almost like a Metkayina, and glowing spots scattered like snowflakes across his cheeks. Heavy eyelids. Taller than your average Omaticaya. Perhaps a bit bulkier, as well.

If you tilted your head just past his looming figure then you could take in the tufted fur clothing he wore, slightly more coverage than of Na’vi from the more tropical areas; with patterns of rosettes peaking out wherever his skin was exposed and dotted like a fainter version of a snow leopard’s. From your own planet.

But you were not on your own planet.

Far from it.

You’re realizing with a jolt that he was one of the Herwi clan-

“Are you…” And though you’d dreamed and wished and hoped for this day for so long—right now you find yourself absolutely speechless. “Are you- fuck.”

To which he only beams- “Nga lu rusey- oh, nga lu rusey.” His pearly white teeth are on full display, one little dimple crinkling at the edge of his smile. He just looks so handsome like this that you almost lose your breath- no. It must be the hypothermia that’s getting to you. It must be. And if you didn’t know any better then you’d have said that he almost sounds utterly relieved—“Oe'm lefpom. Txen? Lu nga txen? Tsal pung?”

“I ah…” Mouth dropping open. Shit—your translator!

Before he can say anything more, you’re digging in your coats- or at least attempting to. It doesn’t take long for you to shuffle behind the thick blankets and realize that you weren’t wearing those humanly thin layers you did when climbing up the mountain. Well-fitted for the Earth’s cold, but not for the harsh ever-winters of Pandora.

Instead you were wearing…a thick woolen coat?

Much too large on you- almost comically so. It had sleeves that reached a few feet past your fingertips, draped down to your toes, and enough space that you could hide at least five of you inside it. 

No translator.

No pen. No notebook-

He sees this smaller figure fluttering about worriedly and tilts his head curiously, “‘Upe lu nga fwew?” Before handing you your notebook and pen from a table behind him.

“Pardon? Ah- thank you so much—!” You beam at him, and he beams back. But looking into his blue eyes once more, you feel a sudden sense of helplessness wash over you. “But I’m sorry, I still can’t understand you.”

At this the Na’vi furrows his pale brows - you’re not quite sure whether he knew what you were saying, but he seemed to have picked up on your emotions. Nudging his large face against yours with a purring sound, “Yawne? Oe'd tìng aynga.”

And a part of you somewhat melts- “I said I really can’t- hahah.” You half-heartedly try to push his incessant face away with a laugh, taking particular delight in noting how happily his tail was swishing. Fluffier with more fur than you’ve observed on other types of Na’vi, also covered in pretty rosettes that swayed to and fro.

It’s right now that you wished you had the patience to stay behind and immerse yourself more in the Na’vi language lessons your laboratory had provided. Most scientists didn’t even go out into the field until they were experts - but you were too antsy, too greedy to know. Something seemed to have called you here whether it cost you your life.

Given you’d picked up on some phrases here and there, but it seems that the Herwi had a different accent from the clips played in those listening tests. Slightly softer, slightly more of a whisper.

Like the breath of winter, his words cooled your mask and heated up something entirely different inside of you. “Oe pey ngim krr.”

Before you know it, the Na’vi clasps both your hands in his—and you’re startled by just how large they are, just how cold. You’re analyzing the way his pale fingers hold your own as if it was all that was tender in the world.

Intertwining.

“Ngim krr.” He looks at you with those azure eyes seriously, opening up the palm of your right hand and touching his to yours. Palm against palm. Breath against breath. “Nìt'iluke.” 

You get the feeling that you were missing something very important- “I’m sorry I really wish…I’m so sorry to ask any more of you- I really am. But have you happened to see my translator anywhere?”

“Tìnga’prrnen?” He cocks his head in confusion, trying to mouth the word.

“Erm- yes?” Hoping that he understood you, “My translator—” You emphasize the syllables- “It’s a little device to understand you-”

You’re gesturing between the two of you- and you swear you see the light blue Na’vi pale. “Tìnga’prrnen? Oe?”

“Yes?” You knew that ‘oe’ referred to oneself.

He balks- maybe you were getting through to him? “Nga new ne kanom oe tìnga’prrnen-”

“Skxawng.”

Before he’s suddenly cut off by a hard smack to the back of his head- and you’re looking up just in time to see another Herwi Na’vi enter the hut. The dimorphism between this particular strand of Na’vi wasn’t anything too prominent, you find - both were tall, both were pale, both had long tails and rosettes scattered across their agile bodies.

The only real difference was that the one at your bedside was more rugged, with even more pure-white beads woven into his hair. Though that you could chalk up to their separate duties within the clan.

She walked inside as though she owned the place, throwing her long loose hair behind her shoulder. She doesn’t even flinch as she shuts the other man up—as she brings out a black earpiece from behind her and hands it to you. “I believe this is yours. It was dropped in the rush outside.”

“O-oh!” You’re surprised to find that it was none other than your translating device. Taking it gratefully, “Thank you so so much.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

At your baffled expression - as far as you knew, the Herwi were the last remaining uncontacted clan of Na’vi, with no knowledge of humankind nor their many languages. “I learned your language from my books-” Gesturing around her - you were right to assume that this was her hut, filled to the brim with ointments and books. Mostly of Na’vi origin, but you could spy a few in English and Japanese. “-sent by friends in the Omaticaya. I find your human stories are…quite amusing.”

“I see.” You breathe.

She gestures at herself, “Ieri Shoko of the heart.” Then at the male Na’vi member, “Gojo Satoru of the snow. I apologize for him, he is our olo’eyktan- also the one that found you.”

“So you’re my saviour.” You’re looking towards him- Gojo once more. He catches your eyes and looks away with a pale blue hue dusting his face. “Irayo nga.” Giving your thanks (one of the few phrases you could speak with complete confidence). 

You’re looking towards him- He shudders, “Oe ke ronsem tsonta lu tìnga’prrnen.”

As soon as he’s saying it, Shoko smacks her hand on her forehead- and you wonder what exactly he means. 

So without further ado, you’re fixing the earpiece onto yourself.

“Idiot.” Shoko’s turning back to Gojo, “You know that’s not what she meant?”

Gojo crosses his arms and huffs- “I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind if it’s for her-”

“Not even Eywa could make that happen.”

“Getting preg-”

“Hello?” Testing—and if the way both Na’vi jerk their heads to you in slight surprise is anything to go by, then you’d say that the translator was working rather well. It was less an earpiece that translated and more a device to target that part of your brain that communicated and understood foreign languages.

Allowing you to both understand and speak in the dialect of the Na’vi - an invention by yours truly, of course. You’d (as close as) perfected it just last year for this expedition. “Can you understand me?”

Gojo stares at you with wide blue eyes.

With his pretty lips parted.

With his tail swishing back and forth.

“I see y-”

“We understand you.” Shoko nudges him roughly in the ribs, “I apologize if we’re a bit startled- it’s the first time we’re seeing a human in person.”

“I could’ve guessed that.” You giggle, flickering your eyes over to the starstrack Na’vi. Though you were equally as such. Somehow you speaking in his language just seemed to make him…“But I want to emphasize that I come in peace- I just want to learn as a scientist, not even my laboratory knows exactly where I am. And I intend to keep it that way.”

Shoko crosses her arms and looks gravely at you, “What do you want?”

“To learn. To research you and your people.” You look between them both, “To confirm the existence of the Herwi clan has been a dream of mine for a long time- not for the papers or the accolades, but because I just wanted to know you.”

“And how can we trust you?” Shoko says, getting nudged by Gojo afterwards.

“I won’t reveal anything you don’t want me to.” Determination dripping in your tone, “Not even if they kill me for it.”

They appraise you, and it’s silent for a beat before Shoko looks at Gojo.

And Gojo nods.

Shoko shoots you a barely-there smile, “Well…human, what do you want to know?”

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.

After you woke up, it was after a long talk and almost three or so hours later that you’d gotten up- Shoko and Gojo had both rushed to your side. Waving them off, you’d attempted to shrug off the coat and hand it back to Gojo - long since realizing that it was his - but he’d almost been offended by the gesture.

Refusing. 

He’d kept a hand behind on the small of your back to steady you with every step climbed towards the entrance. And once you were out- you could practically feel the storm freeze around you.

Colder than cold.

The Herwi looked at you with fear.

They stopped in their tracks and didn’t even look to breathe until Gojo had followed right after. And standing beside him like that, you’d been made too aware of the drastic height difference between you two. The average Na’vi was about nine to ten feet tall, though by the look of it the Herwi of the snow were much larger than their oceanic counterparts—slightly thicker, with limbs that were long and covered in sparse fur to protect them from the cold.

The Herwi average was about ten feet, you’re finding.

Though Gojo stood at a proud eleven feet (11’1 as you come to interrogate out of him more precisely later on) and rested his hand gently upon your shoulder. They had faint scars on them that marked him as a warrior, and you could feel the slight callouses send shivers across your coat-swathed body. His tail curled around your thigh.

You don’t think you even came up to his stomach-

“My people…” He announced in booming Na’vi. “-as some of you may know from the hunt today, we have a guest.”

You shift at the stares.

“More importantly, my guest. And we will make her feel welcome like family.”

“Family?” The whispers came.

“But she is one of the sky people…”

“Part of the family is…but if the olo’eyktan says so…”

“I’ve never seen him so casually touchy with someone before-”

“Shhhhhhh!”

“I understand if you are scared, and to those who wish it- you are free to leave and never interact with her while she is here.” Though none of them do move. Fixated. “But to those who aren’t, I urge you to share the beauty of our culture.”

To which you’d gulped before introducing yourself as you had to Shoko and Gojo.

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Day #2 in the Herwi village: 

The governing system of the Herwi is quite reminiscent to that of other clans - made up by a singular olo’eyktan or olo'eykte, accompanied by a tsahìk (though Gojo assures proudly that he is not mated as of writing this), and a council of clan elders that act as an advisory board.

Most decisions are made solely by the wisdom of Gojo himself, though large choices require a vote from the council as well as his people. Such requisites are rare, however, as it seems the olo’eyktan’s impact extends to the non-council people in such a way that they trust him with everything. (For more on the lovely reception and the sheer popularity of Gojo Satoru see Page 11…)

Governing seems to be harmonious if a little quietly tense in regards to certain elders that disagree yet are ultimately obeisant to their olo’eyktan.

This scientist in particular caused a little stir in the Herwi leadership once a research visit was proposed by the olo’eyktan to the rest of the elders. Though initial reactions had been reluctant, after a terse discussion, ultimately six moons had been granted to collect all appropriate research (due to be checked by the elders prior to leaving). No more. No less.

Six moons should be more than enough!

Shoko might have let it slip that it was Gojo who used his privilege as olo’eyktan to convince the council…and he wasn’t too happy that they’d granted you merely six moons (five days if you’re counting the first night there) to stay here. He wanted to gawk at this new human more, you supposed.

But you were so very grateful to each and every one of them either way - even those wizened elders who scowled at you suspiciously wherever you passed. Though even glares seemed sweet when you were living your dream, hm? And it best be believed that you were taking advantage of every single second you had with the clan - every single second.

Because this was exactly what those cigar-smoking higher-ups had laughed at you for. 

They thought you were chasing a myth.

The Herwi people had been so gracious as to offer you an empty hut, despite Gojo’s fervent insisting that you take his and he can simply tough it out in the cold outside-

And the next day you were up early- perhaps a little too early for the olo’eyktan who’d apparently tracked your trail and followed you around for an hour. Before he finally managed to stop you in the middle of your field study - helping out a young Herwi mother take care of her crying toddler, whilst learning about Herwi childcare techniques - and raised his bag full of food.

Breakfast.

You’re smacking your hand against your forehead as you’d completely forgotten - not quite out of the ordinary for when you got too immersed in your work. But it was different when you had someone seeking you out to take care of you…

And so after sharing the abundance of breads and berries and soups (far too much for but the two of you) with the Herwi mother and child, the two of you sit outside her hut and admired the view of the village. The soft half-sun that melted across the capped peaks, a buttery layer of light that was not even half as bright as on Earth.

But somehow gentler.

Gojo’s raising one berry to his lips before- “Ah…” His mouth drops when he takes a glance at you- more accurately, at your masked self. And he’s stopping in his movements, “Excuse me for just a second, beloved.”

“Oh? Of course.”

You watch as he’s standing up and sprinting light-fast towards the edge of a great steaming lake in the horizon. His figure’s crouching down and cupping his hands in the sparkling water, bubbling with fury. Gojo brings it up to his face and whispers a mantra that you couldn’t quite determine. Not from where you were sitting.

Before carefully bringing it right up to you- “Drink, beloved.” 

He gently leans down to let his fingertips meet your mask.

And you’d had no option—you consider it for science, though a part of you knew you didn’t have to linger your lips so much on his cold skin- but you lift your mask up and drink it.

Once the water floods your throat, you knew something was different.

Your lungs quiver.

Once.

Twice.

And you’d found yourself able to breathe—

Breathing on Pandora.

“How did you…” As you gasp, Gojo reaches out and removes the mask off of you completely. He’d let the earpiece stay on, of course, but lightly grazed his cold digits against the shell of your ear and made you shiver. “I don’t even know what to say- thank you. I didn’t even know this was possible—no other Na’vi clan let alone a mere human has discovered a way to let us breathe normally on Pandora.”

“For you. Lake Yapay.” Gojo says, large hand still cupping your face. “It steams great billowing heat in the day, and freezes by night. Here in Herwi, we use its water to expand our lungs during snowstorms.”

And you want to write it down- you know you should, but the pen in your fingers won’t move. Or more accurately, your fingers won’t move.

He continues, “This land is alive and works in mysterious ways. It has worked for you, beloved, as I knew it would.”

“Thank you again, olo’eyktan.”

“Satoru.” He interjects.

“Satoru.”

He smiles as if it meant the world.

And so your feast commences.

“You have to remember to eat.” Gojo says to you as he scoffs down a sweet paste made of ice-blue berries, “How will you brave the winter storms otherwise? Of course, I will protect you—and yet still.”

“Well, I sure hope I survive six more nights for my research then, hm?” You joke.

But you hadn’t expected Gojo’s face to darken, for him to shake his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Pardon?”

“Six more nights…” And you hadn’t exactly expected him to be so…invested in your research - you admit that you would benefit more from a longer period of studying the Herwi, but you were ready to take what was given. He looks down at the glaring snow and whispers—more to himself. “It’s not fair. I will correct it.”

“Correct?”

“Oh?” And you look from him to the village straight ahead, “Well, I’d be happy either way, Satoru.”

Just then that little Na’vi you’d been helping to watch over before comes waddling and giggling out of the hut to hold onto you- and you pick her up readily.

Gojo took one look at the two of you and shivered.

Shivered.

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Day #3 in the Herwi village: 

Hunts are an imperative part of the Herwi lifestyle—not only is it how the people are nourished, but it’s a social activity, it’s a coming-of-age activity. 

As aforementioned, hunts are commenced and led by none other than the olo’eyktan. A large group of Herwi warriors shall trek across the icelands in one unit, and it was quite interesting to note that most of the younger hunters are positioned in the middle where they are less likely to get injured during such a trip.

It is in the middle of their hike that Gojo will alert when the group is to split up: Snow beast hunters and snow marine stilts. Divide and conquer seems to be the only strategy that somehow tames such an unforgiving environment, and Herwi marine-hunters seem to be picked from the most patient of warriors. They carve out a hole in the middle of frozen bodies of water (never Lake Yapay, this divine body is never harmed) and each positions themself atop a tall icicle beside it to escape prowling beasts and currents. Crouched and ledged atop one, the sheer core strength and balance is divine once they cast their lines and wait.

On the other side of things, we have the Herwi beast-hunters. Using a large variety of weapons, the most popular is noted to be the bow and arrow - used by the olo’eyktan himself. They stalk in the cold white billows of snow with not even a single shiver, they lay in wait for hours, they tire their prey out.

And nevertheless this scientist found today’s hunt rather interesting…

The third and fourth days had passed by in much the same fashion - except for the slight tweak in your routine that included opening your hut door and finding the olo’eyktan standing there every single morning.

Always with food, always with a smile, always with some interesting niveous flower for you to press into your notebook. Then afterwards the two of you would set out to help you interview the Herwi people of all ages and backgrounds, to take samples, to explore the natural fauna, to even join Gojo on one of his Hunts on the third day. 

They admitted that they didn’t focus on hunting as much as they normally did on that trek, too enamored with this strange little human that had showed up one day and had their olo’eyktan glued to her side.

You interviewed hunters and elders (well, the ones that didn’t ignore you completely or were on the verge of cursing you out until they caught their leader’s eye) until your mouth hurt. And Gojo had taken you into the best spot with natural Pandoran fauna, making you jot down notes until your fingers cramped.

Once the sun was beginning to set and the Na’vi were getting ready to head back to their village for the night, you’re taking the opportunity to interview some of the young hunters. Gojo was off in the distance making up for the slightly lowered hunt by ice-spearing more snow beasts. And you were more than happy not to distract him while he took care of his olo’eyktan duties- after all, the other hunters were nice. Never having seen a human before, they’d been more than happy to answer your questions.

Ribbing each other, guffawing as they answered, placing their hands down on you and ruffling your head from above.

Almost as if you were a plaything- and you admit it was in the name of science, you didn’t mind it too much until a particularly boisterous hunter about Gojo’s age had kept swatting at you no matter how many times you politely moved away. Until he’d caught you on the scruff of your coat and tried to lift you up—

You hear the sound of bones breaking before you realize what it is.

Whipping your head behind you in an instant to see that Gojo was behind the other hunter and pulling his hand hard enough that you hear other Na’vi cry out. 

He lets go of you, of course, and you watch with widened eyes as Gojo then bandages his fellow Na’vi’s arm himself. Though you note that he doesn’t apologize.

Gojo didn’t leave your side for a single second after that.

That night after the dinner by the lake, Gojo walks you to your hut and sleeps outside in the bitter cold- no matter how much you tried to get him to take up the bed inside. He’d insisted.

After mating, he’d said.

You wonder whether your translating device was malfunctioning…

(See Page 26 on Herwi possessiveness…).

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Day #4 in the Herwi village: 

Beads.

A well-known part of Na’vi culture, one of the most recognizable, perhaps. The scientific community has written long and extensively on the importance of bead-sharing in the Omaticaya clan, however, this scientist shall be the first to detail the beauty of how this tradition extends to the Herwi clan.

According to the artisans of this village, beads aren’t fashioned through molten stone or seeds or clay—given the availability of such in this environment. Rather, they’re made with snow.

Never-melting snow.

Yes, the design of hona beads from snow is a practice unique to the Herwi clan. Broken off from the hardest icicles growing at a peak of Mt. Hoet said to touch the sky, not only is it a treacherous passage to get to those specialized bits of ice, but the process of making the beads finds itself just as arduous. These icicles are then welded into delicate beads and dipped into the waters of Lake Yapay at night, letting them soak and then carried to freeze at the highest peak once more.

This process is repeated until the beads are as hard as diamonds on Earth- perhaps even harder. Never-melting. Never-breaking. Never-forgetting. Though not too hard so that the Herwi will be unable to carve unique patterns and symbols special to themself. Rinse. Repeat.

Though the clear meaning of such is ambiguous, it is most certainly a way of showing appreciation - as one would have to love someone very much to do this, no?

It was on your fourth day amongst the Herwi clan that Gojo didn’t show up with a beautiful flower or trinket from the terrain- instead, he’s bounding up to you with a string of beads and knotting it against the side of your face.

Pushing it back and taking you in with it.

Without a question.

“Satoru, did you…” You’re holding the line of beads up to the sunlight and watching the little patterns glimmer. They were slightly frosted and flurried like the smallest of snowglobes, “Did you make this for me?” 

And you swear they had the most intricate design of clouds on them, swirling and tumbling.

“Of course.” He smiles proudly. “Us Herwi are taught how to design our very own hona beads ever since we were children, and as Na’vi coming of age we walk up the path to make the first one for ourselves…as adults we make one for our family or…” Mates.

“And this- god, I need to…write about this but I can’t even imagine how long this would’ve taken.” 

“Four days.” Gojo cocks his head and looks down at you- and that brilliantly confident grin of his plasters across his face once more. “For most it takes four years, but for you I did it in four days.”

“Oh, they’re just amazing.” You run a hand down the ice-cold globules, “Thank you, Satoru.”

He holds your hand as he leads you out into the village.

Gojo tells you that night to wear those very beads to the clan dinner - once a week (at the very least) after a particularly successful Hunt, the Herwi people will get together for a massive feast. You’d heard excited whispers about it from the public you surveyed, and it seems that the olo’eyktan had chosen tonight.

Night had begun to fall, and you were dragged playfully by some younger girls straight to the edge of this vast frozen lake. Past snow-capped huts that stuck out of an even more snow-capped ground like eager heads, and ice-jeweled trees and frozen rivers and pathways lit with bioluminescent algae trapped in lanterns of ice.

It was a world in frost.

Where Na’vi had gathered with their families, their friends, their food—all in an array of tables that circled the crystallized body of water like a wedding ring.

Under the snowy night sky they communed. 

“You are wearing my- I mean your hona beads.” Gojo had beamed as he eventually caught up with you and guided you himself. He led you by hand again - even though you weren’t exactly quite sure why…at least it kept you from being toppled over by the other tall Herwi rushing to snag their own seats. “You look beautiful with them, beloved.”

And you weren’t quite sure what to say- though the bubbling pit at your stomach certainly wanted you to tell him something. Instead you divert the topic, “You hunted today as well, yes? Is there anything here that you hunted?”

To which he looks at you with a rather cocky smile, “Beloved, I have hunted more than half of the feast tonight. Trust that you will enjoy it.”

And you might have joked about him being presumptuous- but you really did enjoy the feast.

Under a star-studded sky and glimmering lanterns that twinkled like the freckles upon Gojo’s face, he led you to the very head table that no other Na’vi dared touch. It was rather obvious that this one was meant for the olo’eyktan himself, but what was curious was when your seat had been placed right next to his.

Perks of being a special guest, you suppose?

Shoko was beside you and shot you an amused smile, before preening for another Herwi next to her with a scar that ran across her face and half-braided hair. 

“Utahime.” Gojo had whispers in your ear, “Shoko’s mate.” 

“Ah- I see!” Pen quivering in your hand, you’re jotting down your observations in your notebook under the table. “Perfect. I’m quite curious about the mating rituals of the Herwi, you see. Do you suppose I’d be able to ask them some questions later on in the night?”

“Don’t ask them questions- ask me.” Gojo huffs. Brows furrowing. Lower lip jutting into a pout.

He leans over and wraps his arm around the back of your chair. Squirming, “O-oh…but you’re not mated yet, are you, Satoru?”

“Nope!”

“Right…” But then how could you ask him about mating if he wasn’t—nevermind.

Because just then the group in charge of cooking for the clan had rounded the tables and begun placing their most savored delicacies on top of them. Meats upon vegetables upon berries that you’d seen growing naturally across the mountainside they lived on. It was steaming hot and everything that you could dream of.

Whether you didn’t like meat, whether you didn’t like vegetables- there was always something there for you.

Most of the richest dishes were allocated around the olo’eyktan and your single table, stuffing the surface to the brim until you had to squeeze next to Gojo for space. Of course, he didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps too busy piling his place with the sweetest treacly milks and frozen desserts that he could reach.

After dinner came the dances.

It happened every night after the community dinner when everyone - full and satisfied by then - would start humming and chanting their ancient hymns. Echoing into the sleepy snow and the ever-young night, someone would pull out two snow beast-skin drums by then. Thumping away to the songs of the snow. 

Children ran off and made snow-prints and snow-fights in the mountains of powder. Family members would begin drowsily feeding each other and insisting they eat more. Others traced their own hona beads and promised they’d make ones for the one they love.

More would punch small holes through the frozen lake and bring the water up to their mouths, of which a sudden blow would make the water freeze and scatter out into the air in twinkling snowflakes. Emulating the stars themselves.

Snow-breathers. 

They’d sing, they’d sound, they’d show off and then…the first mated couple would walk onto the middle of the frozen ice.

Then the second.

The third.

The fourth and the fifth and the sixth-

What a way to end the night, love warming the cold air and couples twirling around each other with their tails intertwined. Usually, you’d be content to clap and attempt to sing along—

But then Gojo stands up- and you almost believe he was ready to leave the table altogether…until he’s reaching his hand out to you.

You.

And you look around in slight surprise- almost as if expecting someone to materialize right beside you and take Gojo’s hand instead. But the only thing you’re getting is Shoko’s approving nod from next to you, before she lets herself be dragged by Utahime onto the frozen lake.

And so you’d danced.

Rather an interesting sight considering the height difference, you admit—but it was beautiful. Gojo scoops you up into his arms with one steadied underneath you, the other holds one of your hands in his. 

So much larger. So much more powerful.

And yet so gentle.

He twirls you around to the music and you laugh at the wind stinging your face.

“Satoru, you’re going to drop me—”

“I should rather die than drop you.”

“But- but what of the other Herwi that will be mistaken?” You ask then, already sensing the envious looks that were thrown your way. 

“There goes my dream of being tsahìk, I’m almost sure of it now-”

“But I haven’t been able to try my luck with the olo’eyktan yet-”

“Oh shush, girl! You seriously think any of us had a chance?”

You look into his handsome face, eyes trained on you despite all the whispers and disturbance amongst his people. Only you. “You won’t be able to find a mate this way.”

Something unreadable in his blue eyes, flickering with fire from the tables and something else entirely. “Perhaps I don’t want one.”

“Well that would be entirely your decision.” You place your hands on his broad shoulders, flexing as they move you around with ease. “But it seems in Herwi tradition, the olo’eyktan is wont to take a mate.”

He raises a white brow, “And who should you believe must be my mate then?”

You didn’t quite know how to answer that.

Averting his eyes- and those of the Na’vi staring at you two. “W-well, Herwi has many fine women and men. Reykol is the best singer.”

“I do not want Reykol.”

“Tìtaron is a good hunter.”

He pulls you closer, “Yes, she is a good hunter. But I am better, and I do not care for Tìtaron.” Reaching up one hand to brush away the snowflakes that had begun dusting your face, “I believe I have already been fated to. Even before I was born, I have already chosen.”

You swallow, “Who, Satoru?”

He only smiles.

“Who?”

But he does not answer, you’re twirled around once more and the moonlight catches your dangling beads.

“Is that…”

“Surely our leader isn’t saying what we think he is saying-”

“But look at him, he looks so…happy.”

You turn your head to catch the fact that most of the Herwi were looking at you, whispering behind their hands. In hindsight, you think that perhaps it was not a coincidence that they ogled you - and particularly the hona beads that you’d been gifted. Not a coincidence at all.

You wore his signature because you were his.

And they all knew you were his.

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Day #5 in the Herwi village (the last day): 

Leaving tomorrow, a perceptive scientist may notice that there is only one thing missing from this comprehensive research into the Herwi clan.

The source of Eywa.

As a deity to all Na’vi people, her influence seeps into the songs and prayers of even the highest terrains on Pandora. Into the healing. Into the well wishes. Into the belief system of a people so accepting and harmonious that their tree of Eywa does not need to be visibly present for her will to be carried out.

But as for where she resides here…

Your fifth and final day was less research and more saying your goodbyes to all the friends you’d made in the Herwi clan. You’d be leaving first thing tomorrow, before the sun even rose, according to the sternest of the elders. 

Gojo hadn’t met you outside your hut that morning, and you’d idled away the time packing and repacking your bag of samples and books. Thrice, before you started to believe that he might not come after all.

But that was alright, ultimately believing that he’d show up later on in the day, you visited all the healers, the hunters, the dancers, and the chefs. The mother and toddler you’d grown close to on your first day here, and even a stray elder that had sought you out to bow goodbye. 

All the young Na’vi and the old Na’vi.

All the Na’vi that had come to not fear you and the Na’vi that had found you endearing at first sight.

They’d warmed up to you since you first came here. They gave you gifts, each of them, and your heart ached as you thought of leaving. 

Goodbyes were always painful - but perhaps one most of all. Gojo.

He still hadn’t met you by the end of your route, and you’d circled the village about twice by the time you were done. He was nowhere to be seen.

It was almost as if he’d disappeared into thin air.

It was with a heavy pit in your stomach that you started to head back to your hut—your last dinner with the Herwi people would be in a few hours. Afterwards, Gojo had previously arranged for you to be accompanied by some of the clan’s best warriors on your trek down. 

You just thought that’d include him.

Perhaps you could sleep it off until the final dinner- and you were shutting the door just behind you…

Before sounds a hurried, hasty knock—

You open the door to see the olo’eyktan of the Herwi tribe.

Panting. Covered in snow.

“My apologies, I have spent the day clearing the pathway for us.” Gojo huffs out, leaning against your door frame with one hand. The other reaching out to you—“Come with me, beloved?”

.

.

.

The Herwi source of Eywa was inside an ice cave.

One that would get blocked when the goddess herself did not wish to be seen, one that Gojo had torn through layers of packed ice to burrow a pathway for the both of you. He’d carried you all the way to the gaping mouth of blue ice and ghost snow.

Closing in on you like arms of rime beckoning you to the tree of Eywa. The Tree of Winter.

The cold embrace of a mother.

One you were still not quite sure whether you were allowed to see—but Gojo knew he wanted you to see. He saw you. 

At the end of the cave was an ice column about eighty feet tall and naturally formulated to look like the winding branches of a tree. Dripping to the ground in phantom white snow, each one delicate and graduating from white to blue. There almost seemed to be a glowing aura about it.

Clear mirrors making up the tree’s vines. Honed tips of the icicles rising from Pandora and stabbing down towards it. The top of the tree reached where the cave roof was hollow, beaming a circle of light from the skies that donned Eywa in innocent pink.

You gasped at the white snowsprites that bounced off of the tree and onto your two bodies. 

Where Gojo stand with his back straight, his meaty thighs spread—pearly white teeth biting down to stop himself from fucking moaning at the feeling of your mouth sliding up n’ down his hot cock.

While you were standing.

You didn’t even have to get on your knees.

His eleven foot figure loomed above you, one hand on the back of your head and the other pumpin’ his furious erection. Your maw slips down his puckered tip and he shivers- bucking ever-so-slightly and hitting the back of your throat dead-on—

And yet he wasn’t even fully bottomed out.

He wasn’t even fully bottomed out.

The sudden realization makes you claw at the sides of his blue skin with a whine- direct vibrations that make the puckered tip lodged inside your mouth twitch. He’s sploshing out even more syrupy pre like he couldn’t stop it.

He’s not even trying and it’s already so much, cascading like a waterfall down the front of your chin.

“Now- hah, now.” One of Gojo’s prolonged fingertips reaches out to smear away the slippery sheen across your face- at least, that’s what you think he’s doing.

But instead you’re feeling him curve his rude digits between your lips and push those dewy droplets inside. Shovelling his cock just a little bit deeper, “S’not good to waste it, beloved. Open your mouth and take it all like a good girl, yes?”

“Mmmpf-” A damn miracle that you could get out that much sound in the first place. You’re pulling off to answer, and Gojo jerks his hips a lil’ to chase your damp mouth. “You’re saying you want me to take it all—?”

He shivers, leopard-like tail twitching. “Yes.”

And right before your very eyes, you can see his shaft throb even bigger. 

Harder. 

The prettiest bluish-pink on his tip, one with a divot that leaks out a line of precum. You’re following it with your dazed eyes- before the next thing you’re seeing is a close-up of it.

Gojo has his massive hand plastered to the back of your scalp and is pushin’ your head in, digging his dripping wet tip against the back of your throat. With a groan, the Na’vi pins you to him and hammers out a few sloppy thrusts of his cock.

Again and again.

Slurp after slurp—

“Gonna take it all- hah- my entire cock inside that pretty mouth, yes?” He’s cocking his head to the side and asking down at you sweetly. And he might look all in control, but Gojo’s voice fucking breaks at the very end of his sentence. 

Right in synchronization with the way you were draggin’ your sizzling tastebuds down the veiny sides of his erection. Just the cutest tongue that was eagerly lapping up everything he was giving—“Doesn’t matter if you’re a lil’ human, you’re gonna take the leader’s biiiiig cock, aren’t you?”

Removing yourself from his thickened tip with a wet pwah! “Y-you’re really serious about the-”

“Yes.” 

And he’d apologize for cutting you off later- hell, he’d grovel at your feet if he has to. But right now all Gojo can think of doing is holding onto the back of your head and strollin’ his thumb down the column of your throat. The olo’eyktan can feel that fat cylindrical intrusion where his cock was pumping in and out- and he’s sliding his fingertip dooooooown that bulge. “Aren’t you a scientist, beloved?”

“Y-yes?”

“Then aren’t you curious about just how far a human can take Na’vi cock?”

“Well…” You blubber out, “I guess so-”

“Then consider it for your research.” With each syllable he’s cutting your breath off by thudding his cockhead against the roof of your mouth. “Then just fucking- haaaaah—” And you’re finding that the pre Na’vi cock exuded was actually rather sweet- almost like honeydew flooding up your mouth n’ being slid all round by the intrusion of his shaft. “-take it.”

“Mmmpf—ngh.” Tears were streaming down your face by now, wetting your cheeks and making the Na’vi wipe them away with his thumb.

“Don’t cryyyyy—” He’s airily calling out, almost nothing like the level-headed Na’vi you’d met before. “Big girls don’t cry. Don’t worry- m’gonna give you all of my cock, beloved.”

“S-Satoru-”

But each of your broken yowls were being bullied back in with his bludgeoning wet tip, bruisin’ away its splitted end anywhere and everywhere. 

He swabs into the tiniest nooks and crannies inside your mouth with his sheer size, leaving your knees utterly weak where you were still standing. He’s holding your head up to his cock- “C’mon- feel.”

You peer up at him in confusion.

“Feel for your research.” Fluttering his long pale lashes down at you, a sultry smile spreads across his lips. “How many loooong thick inches you’re being given. How many veins are filling ya up. How many times I hit the back of yer throat like this-”

A shuddering slam right where you were most tender. “Please-”

“M’helping you with your- fuck, research.” He chuckles down lecherously, “By shutting that smart human mouth of yours up.”

“Fuck-”

“Feel it- just feel.”

He thrusts so hard that his heavy ballsack smacks! against your chin, “Feel the way that lil’ mouth of yours can barely even take me. Feel how fat my balls are with cum just for you. Count them? Wanna calculate the girth?” Until it was stinging a permanent girth on your skin, rubbed raw with impact. “Feel the way I- ngh, bruuuise your throat n’ those sensual lips until anyone that talks to you knows I’ve been here.”  He’s babbling on stupidly by now, eyes falling more n’ more half-lidded by the minute. He’s holding on tightly to your restless head and shoves- “Feel the way I fuck my mate—”

Gojo trails off as if shocking himself, and you’re snapping your teary eyes up to him with a muffled- “What?”

But you don’t know whether it’s on cue, you don’t know whether it’s the startle of being caught- but Gojo’s slamming his cocktip way past the back of your throat and cumming.

Oozing out hot dollops of cum that take over your pretty mouth.

Shaft throbbing furiously. Balls twitching like no other. He throws his head back and squelches straight down your throat, and you can feel the thickness of it plug up your voicebox.

So sweet.

So much.

And you’re not sure whether it’s a Na’vi thing or it’s a Gojo thing that he’s cumming so much in one go.

Loooooong miry stripes that trickle down the sides of your mouth- he leans down and pushes them back between your lips with one of his thumbs. Ivory sap constantly leaking down onto your tastebuds, he feels the heady slip n’ slide of his cock against those wads of cum. “Fuh-fuck…”

And then he’s not moving, merely clasping the back of your head and bringing you firmly up against his slender pelvis. 

Your nose rubs against the tufts of white on his abs before you realize that he’d just bottomed-out—just once, like he’d promised. 

And it was enough to send you reeling, feeling the pushback of his swabbin’ tip. Pouring out even more heady liquid every time he was draaaaging down your velvety tongue. 

The tip of your tastebuds flicks his sensitive slit just right and you can feel him pulse deep inside. “Feel me in there?” Gojo’s groaning from above. “Feel how much I ache for you. Feel the volume of my cum- are you counting it?”

“I-I—”

But evidently your half-sob wasn’t enough.

And the Na’vi is reaching down and pinching your nostrils together with his free hand. “Ah ah- focus on your research, beloved.”

And you’re struggling uselessly against his mean action, to which Gojo watches with a predatory gaze at the way you huff n’ sputter. And he has the audacity to snicker-

“I really can throw you around like a ragdoll, huh?”

It’s as if the realization had just struck him and he’s shuddering. 

It almost feels like ages before he’s finally pulling away with a loud plop!

An excess of your cum was leaking out of your maw and threatening to drip onto the floor- “Tch, this is a sacred place, my human.” He’s rasping out—swipin’ up the frothed white cum as if he wasn’t absolutely desecrating you. Pushing those clingy wads between your maw.

He then guides his honed tip to glide across your lips, gluing your lips shut with all his seed.

And Gojo can’t help but admire you- peering up at him with his towering height. All covered in his syrupy slick and speechless, unable to talk even if your voicebox had been left intact.

He smiles, tail swishing happily to and fro. “My human.” Gojo leans all the distance down to kiss you upon your sopping wet lips. “My m- pretty human. My pretty human…”

But you don’t have enough sense at the moment to ponder too long on his little slip-up before he’s bending down close with his hoarse mouth against the shell of your ear.

Making you feel so sensitive.

“-did ya get enough research yet?”

And then he’s good on his other promise: throwing you around like a ragdoll.

Before you know it, Gojo’s thundering down onto his knees upon the frozen floor - taking you right along with him. He grabs his fur coat from a little ways away and makes you rest down on top of it. With ease.

Back flat on the coat. Legs spread high in the air.

Twisted around the back of Gojo’s neck and locked in place-

“Satoru-” You look around the Tree of Winter that only seems to glow even brighter, the snowsprites buzzing. “-are you sure we should be doing this h—oh.”

Gojo doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t have to.

He’s merely unhinging his jaw and letting his loooong pinkish tongue drip out. It was glossy with ravenous saliva, thick at the base, and curved at the tip. The end of it dripped tantalizingly with spittle- almost torturously. 

Achingly needy.

There was an almost feline quality to it that made your thighs clench.

“N-nevermind.”

The only thing you’re managing to get out before Gojo had his tongue stuffed against your wet core and swabbin’ away until you saw white—“M-mmmpf.” His mouth was just so large that he could engulf your pussylips with a single bite, honed canines grazing the outer edge of your cunt while he kisses inwards. “My pretty mate- my tasty mate.”

It’s almost as if he was pussydrunk already.

With just a single slurp of his curvaceous tongue glidin’ up and down your slit, Gojo has his blue eyes rolling to the back of his head and his hips bucking. Wildly. “Why didn’t Eywa tell me that you’d taste so good-”

“Oh my—” Your back arches while his thickened fingertips come between your legs to pinch your puckered pussy into his mouth. Pushing you against him even more - greedy. “Shit, it just feels so-”

Smack!

And without a single warning, Gojo has his roverin’ fingertips slamming down on your pussy. Straight on top of your slit where your clit was hidden, it sends shockwaves of both pain and pleasure up your spine.

You’re gasping and staring down at him-

“Now now, no cursing- be good before Eywa, hm?” That damn hypocrite - and you could see it in that sultry smile of it. Gojo was getting off on the way you’d squirm your cunt restlessly against his face, sighing into the way he starts fucking your pussy once more. “Or else m’not gonna eat this pretty pussy of yours out, ya hear?”

You gape, “That’s not fucking fair-”

Smack!

“What was that, beloved?”

“I said—”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Until Gojo’s leaving your pussy raw and needy, and even then he wasn’t done with you- he has the audacity to purse his plump lips and spit. Spit. Letting the sharp strike of saliva make you shiver—

“What was that?” He asks you in such a breathy tone, such a ruined tone. Gojo spoke like if you told him you needed him right now then he would simply shatter. 

And you can only gulp at the state that he was in - you’ve researched Na’vi during times of high pressure, during battles, during their coming-of-age ceremonies. But never had you met one that simply seemed so…feral. “I-I’ll be good, Satoru.”

He smiles like he’s been wanting to hear those exact words for years.

Fingertips jittering with excitement, he then reaches for your intertwined ankles with his tail. 

Locking them in place, Gojo murmurs. “Good…” Before he’s getting ready to dive straight back into your sweetened cunt once more, “Because you better not run-”

And you don’t get to ask just what might constitute you running from his mouth. His tongue.

You don’t get to ask just what it meant when he looked at you with that dark inkling of something carnal, as if he was about to devour you whole.

You don’t get to ask anything, in fact, and whatever questions were already in your throat burst into a zillion pieces at the feeling of him pushing his tongue inside your hole. Properly.

Not lapping away coquettishly on your outer cunt, not slurpin’ up all your treacly juices.

Gojo had his tastebuds stuffed inside your entrance and was draaaaagging them all across every orifice inside of you. Thrusting his entire length in and out at a rapid pace, you could feel the edge of his chin hitting your base with every movement.

Inside and out.

Inside and out.

But the sheer speed of him wasn’t even the bit makin’ you the most dizzy- see Gojo’s Na’vi tongue was something amazing. Something incredible. 

Just so large and lavish that it was stretching your walls out like never before.

“P-please-” You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything like this- the way that Gojo’s textured tongue would mold against your walls, the way he’d pinpoint even the tiniest orifices with his flexible tip, the way he’d expand and contract his tongue purposefully. Until you saw white. Bucking—“Please it just feels so-”

“Where’d ya think you’re going?”

And the slur in his voice makes you pause- “Wh-what…?”

The last thing you’re managing to get out before Gojo tightens the rude grip of his fingertips on your pussylips. And the other one of his hands holds onto your waist to haul you back down onto his mouth- you hadn’t even realized that you’d been edging away in sensitivity. 

“Didn’t I tell you not to run?” Spankin’ those rugged fingertips of his down on your clit once more. You get the feeling that Gojo’s meanly choosing your clit because he knew that’d make you clench ‘round his tongue even more. “Don’t run. Don’t even move.”

“You’re just so fucking- ngh, big and you expect me not to move?” You wail out in indignity.

“Well, who told you to fuck a Na’vi warrior?” He’s countering, those half-lidded eyes of his twinkling with humor. “Better yet- who told you to fuck the olo’eyktan-”

And you suppose you had no explanation for that.

Especially not even Gojo was pumping his thickened tongue into you so fast that any and all explanations in your throat start to dissolve. Instead being replaced by the most pathetic whines and groans as he keeps fucking your pussy greedily.

As though Gojo was a man parched.

Because your wettened pussy was more refreshing to him than the waters of the lake- and if he could, he’d have his head stuffed between your legs every second of the day. Simply slurpin’ up every dewy droplet that escaped out of you, Gojo catches even those tiniest of wads.

Slipping his looooong tongue inside—you’re driven damn near mad once he slithers his length in and grazes your g-spot.

Hips bucking, eyes snapping open. “H-how did you even manage-”

“Ah ah—” His familiar tut, and soon enough you’re glued back down onto his pretty mouth again. Gojo doesn’t even need to try to ease you pliably back onto his face no matter how much you try to run- but oh, it was just so fun to watch your sultry surprise. The way you only got wetter when he manhandled you. “So this is that cute lil’ g-spot human have, hm? I thought it was just something in Shoko’s anatomy textbooks.”

“You- you read her textbooks…” You ask.

“All day and all night.” Gojo replies with a smirk, his ears twitching as he hears the quickening of your heartbeat. “Only Eywa knows how much I’ve touched myself imagining this.”

“Oh—”

It hits you like a flash of lightning- and so do the sudden swipes of Gojo’s tongue reaching your sweetest spots. Thud-thud-thud-thud he’s ricocheting against your bundle of nerves rapidly, making it echo like your own heartbeat in your ears. Thud-thud-thud-thud—

“Shit-” And suddenly you understand- you thought you understood before? But no, now you understand why Gojo had been telling you not to run away initially.

“Don’t run.” He warns.

Because all you’re feeling are the large stripes he’s licking up your slick walls, and the only thing you can think of doing is bucking. Rutting. Reaching for his lips wildly- though your body moves torturously as if you didn’t know whether you wanted more or to run away—“Shit.” 

“Don’t run.”

But how could you not run from it? How could you not even move when Gojo had your body teased n’ toyed with till absolutely no end?

He was hammerin’ his tongue against your g-spot furiously—and you were sure by now that he has the exact pattern of his tastebuds bruised right on that area. Shapin’ your velvety walls to his tongue, Gojo dives in just so animalistically.

And you can’t help but buck. You can’t help but arch your back. You can’t help but reach your hand out and attempt to grab onto something- anything for dear life. 

Again and again. “Shiiiiit is it even allowed to feel this good-”

But the Na’vi leader merely stops your hands with his own, folding them neatly into his hair. Holding onto his clammy scalp- “As Eywa wills it.” He smiles and your cunt’s just so sensitive by this point that you can feel the exact degree of curvature of his grin. “Which reminds me…”

And for your profanity you’re getting three more direct spanks, “Shit-”

One more.

Before you feel him then twist his fingertips on your throbbing clit and pinch- “Ya reeeeally can’t be a good girl f’me, huh?” Gojo asks you with a smile, though there was a hint of something in his voice that reminded you why exactly he was the olo’eyktan of such a large clan. “Look at you—”

“Sh-shit, that feels so-” But he isn’t listening, and you’re fighting the heels of your feet against his broad back. 

“Look at you.” He’s tightening his tail on your ankles and dragging you back down. He’s spitting down through clenched canines, every single word sending sparks up to your hazy brain. Barely even working by this point, surely. “Swearing. Squirming. Moaning like a slut and trying to escape- as your leader, I should punish you, beloved.”

“No more pussy spanking—” You whine, “Just makes me so sensitive…”

“I’m not talking about pussy spanking, beloved.” To emphasize his point he gives just a light tap on your sensitive nub once more.

It leaves you shaking to wonder just what else he has in store for you- though you don’t have to let your mind grapple in the dark for too long. Because in absolutely no time - just a few more vulgar thrusts of his tongue - you’re feeling the sudden plump intrusion of something slender at your hole.

It certainly couldn’t have been his tongue, because you knew what that ridged texture felt like. 

It certainly couldn’t have been Gojo’s cock, because you’d tasted that and you knew he had a much larger circumference. 

So that left only one option—Gojo had your pussylips spread apart and your entrance gulping up every inch of his fingers. They just looked so stark with their blue color disappearin’ into your hole, and Gojo’s increeeeedible length making you feel so full. 

Two of them were all that were shovelled inside- and yet he was already stretching for your very cervix on his first thrust inside. He scours the spongy end of your pussy then slides back out—in and out, in and out, in and out.

Each time his knobbly joints push against your g-spot and left you crying-

“Feel my fingers inside you?” Gojo rasps ruthlessly, his mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit. Groaning at the way you grow even wetter- Na’vi senses were strong, and he could smell the impending orgasm on you. “Feel the way I reach for your- hah, womb all inside? Feel the way I can fuck a baby in you so easily?”

“Yes-” You answer to them all, “Yes yes yes yes—”

And before you can say anything more, his powerful tail hauls you down. Bashin’ in even deeper with his plush fingertips. “Feel the way I’ve found eeeevery cute spot of yours? Feel the way I know your pussy inside and out?”

“Yes- fuck.” And you don’t even care if you’re ‘punished’ any more for breaking Gojo’s stern rules. Gojo himself was slamming his knuckles red and raw against your cunt, fucking his human’s tight pussy. “Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Feel the way m’making you mine—?”

“Satoru, m’gonna cum-”

“Note it down in your research.”

And then you’re exploding straight into your high - and you know it’s the best you’ve ever had.

Your eyes fall shut and the only thing you’re seeing behind them is pure black with stars of white, pulsing against your bleary vision in time with the furious throbbing at your cunt. Little zaps of pleasure shoot all the way down to the tips of your toes every time he’s moving his maw across your core. Sharp. Sensitive. He’s wedged between your legs and lappin’ up each pulse.

Sluuuuurp—!

Long, aching drags of his tongue. They’re roverin’ over the most sensitive spot of your clit, meanwhile his fingers were glazed in slick n’ fucking you stupid already.

Gojo thrusts you through your high as if he was angry at you. As if he can’t get enough. As if he’s losing his damn mind and you n’ your pussy are the only reasons why-

It takes you only a minute more for your wave of bliss to taper out, fully riding through it. 

And then only another minute more for you go from fucked straight to overstimulated by a few more of his rovering thrusts. He swabs your g-spot once more and you think you’re bawling- “S-Satoru, I’m already done-”

But he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even seem to hear you.

In fact, you couldn’t sworn that he was grabbing onto your right thigh with his free hand and keeping himself plastered even more into your cunt-

“Satoru—!” You’re calling out helplessly, “Satoru, I’m already- ngh, done-”

“Mhmmmm?” Muttering something wet underneath his breath, and you have to strain your ears to actually hear him. Breathy. Panting. “Research- fuck! More…”

“I can’t even- oh.” It was almost dangerous just how potent he was with his mouth and fingers, and before long your thighs were starting to shake with sensitivity. Causing you to grab onto his scalp even tighter and-

“O-oh.”

And accidentally tug on the long braid of white hair thrown over his shoulder—his kuru.

Did that manage to…

Your breath hitches, and you’re reaching out to graze your fingers down his kuru once more-

“Fuh—fuuuuck.” Gojo throws his head back in a voice that almost sounded like a whimper, his slick lips quivering. His skin covering in goosebumps. His erection throbbing from where you could spy him. His entire large body shakes with the zaps of hypersensitivity going down his spine, “D-don’t think you know what you’re getting into, beloved…” His murky breath clouds out in front of him. 

“You sure?” You challenge - what a privilege it was to see him break.

The olo’eyktan grits his teeth—-“I’m warning you…”

But when were you ever one to listen to warnings?

Without thinking much of it, you tighten your hand ‘round his kuru and tug—

And then he’s on you in a split-second.

He’s not even moving- he’s grabbing onto your hips and bodily puuuulling you right back down till your cunt lips kiss his cock. He’s pushing your legs up until your kneecaps hit your tits. He’s hunching his entire body forwards and-

“Sh-shit.” Your eyes widen, “Satoru, did you just-”

“Yes.”

Just you teasing his kuru is enough to make Gojo spuuuurt out in creamy wads of cum once more, coating the outer part of your pussy in a thick layer. It feels hot and wet on top of you, streaming down to drench the coating. Before he’s swervin’ his swollen tip inside and fucking you-

No hesitation. No preparation.

You’re getting what you deserved, and that was to be fucked like an absolute anima by the Na’vi.

“You don’t know what you’ve done.” He’s spitting- straight into your hotly opened mouth. Those sharp canines of Gojo’s nipping at your bottom lip, “You don’t know what you’ve done- you don’t know what you’ve done-”

“Shit, shiiiit—Satoru.” Moaning out his name like a broken record player. He’s bullying out harsh semi-thrusts against your cunt that leave you scrambling for breath- just shovin’ his puckered tip inside, just tasting the inside of your pussy with his cockhead, just trying to fucking fit.

“Sayin’ my name like that and you don’t even fucking—” Before Gojo feels your soppy walls clench tightly ‘round him, and his lips part a little before racing down and spitting on your cunt. “Fucking fit.”

“You say that like it’s so easy-” You sob out. 

He was pistoning his hips into you ferally.

The only thing he was doing was stretchin’ out your cute hole a few times, just so big that you’re being push-push-pushed up the fur coat you were splayed out on-

A hand at your throat.

“Don’t. Fucking. Run.”

And you don’t have the chance to tell him that you weren’t actually running and in fact it was just his roverin’ hips forcing you upwards- but before you could do that, Gojo’s already rendering you speechless with his cock.

He’s grabbing an even tighter restraint of your neck.

He’s manhandling your entire body down like he’s crazed.

He’s juuuuuust barely managing to squeeze in a sultry inch of two of his massive length- the mere sensation of that in itself enough to send your mind bursting into a heap of stars. It was almost numbing on your lower half, to have this much of him fitted inside you.

Stuffed inside you.

Throbbing inside you.

And it seems that the only one more affected by that fact wasn’t you - it was Gojo Satoru himself. Head falling into the crook of your neck. Tail flinching as it now wraps around your right thigh. Mouth parting with an agonized groan.

“F—fuck.” He’s echoing out hollowly into your ear, “Fuck, you’re so fucking…tight.”

Gojo spits out the word as if it was the very reason the olo’eyktan was shattering right about now. And almost on cue, those sopping wet walls of yours clench ‘round his tip and makes the Na’vi yelp—

“Fuck, don’t do that.” He’s shuddering through his sloppy strokes, his split-ended tip filling you up with dewy precum. “Fuck, don’t do that unless you want to be taught what happens when you pull on the kuru of a Herwi like me, little scientist.”

“What happens?” You ask innocently.

“S’why I’m telling you to fucking—oh.”

Just a few more pulsating clenches of your cunt, and Gojo shivers as though he’s being held hostage by your wet walls.

He bears his canines and snarls at you in the way you’d seen Na’vi do when they want to signal, to intimidate, to mate. 

But you stare up at the olo’eyktan of the Herwi clan with determination.

And he’s giving you one final probe-

“I’m going to get you fucking pregnant.”

He breathes out against the shell of your ear, almost like the last whisper of his sanity before Gojo stares into your wide heart-eyes—and he’s reeling his hips back to plunge.

Uncaring how unready your poor entrance was.

Uncaring how your tiny human body shakes underneath his larger one.

His fat cock swipes between your glittery folds and puuuuushes against the instinctual restraint of your hole, all the way until you start to tremble- and he knows he can’t push any more. He knows he can’t break you.

He’s fighting back every sudden primal urge in him that just wants to fuck you all the way inside- and furiously pumps his solid inches back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Keeping a hand always on the top of your stomach for when he’s feeling his hard globular tip push upwards.

Gojo was just so big that he could feel himself sinking in from the outside-

“And that’s not a promise, beloved.” Gojo’s pale brows furrow as his cockhead starts swabbin’ even deeper after each thrust, “That’s not a promise- that’s not even a challenge-”

“Th-then—?” He’s pushing doooown on your overstuffed core and you find it hard to breathe, both pressures from between your legs and from Gojo pushing on your cylindrical tummy bulge was just…

The olo’eyktan grins when he watches his cute lil’ human struggle to take his entire cock, the bluish hue of it spreading apart your thighs. He reels his slender hips back in quite the long drag—before ultimately hammering- “It’s an oath. Before Eywa.”

A divine oath.

Added to the fact that Gojo was slamming his ruddied tip into you with each syllable- and you could never forget about the sheer size difference. The way that it helped him bend over you and fold you in half as though nothing but a lawnchair—your ass was cleanly dangling off the floor with how much Gojo was bending you.

A mating press. The meanest one you’ve ever seen.

You’re hit with the sudden inclination that you weren’t about to walk out of here any time soon.

And Gojo seems to be doing well on that fact- he hadn’t completely bottomed-out yet, but he was still drilling into you with such fervour. Streaking his cum from before across every inch of you, a layer of white that you feel from the inside.

Feverish cocktip swabbin’ all the way at the back of your cervix, full balls smacking your cunt.

Every time he was hurtling his hips forwards, it almost felt as if the ground beneath you was trembling. 

It almost felt as if he was hitting each of your geysering spots without even needing to try. Just so big that the veiny sides of his cock rubbed n’ dubbed up against those orifices unfairly. 

It almost felt as if you were losing it-

“So I think you’ll have a loooot of fuckin’ research, beloved.” Gojo snickers, his tail flicking you playfully. And at this point you’re not even sure what the conversation was about, just knowing that it was the background music to the lecherous thwacking of his hips on yours. 

So hard that you could feel the wads of his high from before glazing your insides. Dripping all the way near the rim of your cunt before being pumped back inside.

He pushes down on top of that bulge once more and watches you whine, “I almost don’t want to, mmm, ask what it’ll be about…”

“Ohhh, y’know—” Gojo trails off airily, something shaky in the back of his tone that sends shivers up your spine. It makes you almost content to know that you’ve gotten him so pussydrunken- but then again you weren’t too far behind. He tilts his head to the side and looks at you through partially closed eyes, smiling. “-human-Na’vi babies.”

And it’s with that that Gojo finally - finally - drills his cock all the way to the hilt.

Bottoming out.

His breath catches at the realization.

Blue eyes widening. Mouth watering.

It feels so different to have your hot innards surrounding him entirely- and fuck, Gojo wasn’t even sure whether a human like you would be able to take all of him. But it seems that you really were made for him, yes? Every curve and edge of you. Every bit of your cunt that he gives an experimental buck into, before pumping inside like a madman-

Pounding you into the smooth ground of the celestial temple.

It feels like you’re being thrust into heaven itself because of the way he was so big, big, big—all the way from the purple-ish tip that was zig-zagging your walls, to the oversized tummy bulge he was fucking into you, to the way he had you folded. Manhandled.

Gojo’s only lasting a few strokes before he’s crushing you to him so hard that it almost hurts- “Right here—right here.” The hand atop your stomach pushes down where his ruby-red tip was kissin’ and kissing at your womb. “You’re gonna have a lot ta research about fucking- ngh, getting bred by the fucking olo’eyktan. A lot to research about carrying my next heir, yeah?”

“Yes…” Arching your back into him.

“And then here—” That very hand now drifts down to the in-betweens of your pussylips and rubs his thumb over your clit. He’s drawing little circles and hearts on top of your sensitive nub that makes you wrack with pleasure, “Yer gonna have to research giving birth to such a biiiig baby, beloved.”

You shiver at the thought, mostly excitement.

And he purrs as he rubs his cheek against the sweaty crown of your head, “But s’okaaaaay- I’ll help you through every step of it, beloved. My mate.” The Na’vi’s staring down at you lovingly, fucking you filthily. “M’gonna breed you all full, okay? You might just have to research more about Na’vi phenotypes- heh.”

You can only nod. “Please…”

And before you can dwell too long on that last particular word—mate—he’s continuing. “And then you don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing- I can take care of eeeeverything. I’ll wash our kid. I’ll dress our kid. I’ll feed our kid. I’ll do everything and anything just please-”

“Y-yes?” Your voice cracks.

And he winks down at you almost mischievously, “Let’s do some research together on when I’ll be able to breed you all full of my cum next, hm?”

And with only a few more vicious thrusts, you’re feeling your second wave of pleasure tonight take over. You knew it’d been bubbling inside your veins for some time now- and right now it almost felt as if that euphoria was overflowing.

Overspilling.

Just like the gushing wads of slick that drivel over the front slit of your cunt and leave you so wet that you feel like a waterpark. Just rhythmic bursts of your high that leave your body loose and limp, shaking a bit every time that Gojo’s cockhead plummets inwards.

Head muddled.

Eyes rolling to the very back of your head.

This might just be the best orgasm of your entire life, and your wave of pleasure is looooong and drawn-out with how many times Gojo thrusts his cock in to fuck you through it. “Shit, Toru—” 

Again and again and again.

Each time hitting the target of your g-spot dead-on and watching as you gush around him even more. 

You were at Gojo’s complete mercy…almost.

Shaking. Your hands find themselves in his hair once more- or more precisely grazing the long length of his kuru. “Satoru.” You’re breathing out as he shivers carnally, “Satoru, I want it- ngh, inside.”

His eyes widen, “Demanding something of the olo’eyktan, are you?”

“Inside, Toru.” Desperate now.

To emphasize, you’re lightly tugging on his kuru and watching as it makes the Na’vi above you shudder. His cock pouring out heaps of precum that only act as a warning for something…more. “F-fuck, better keep this all in until tomorrow-”

At the very least.

You’re honestly not sure if you can keep it all in even now—because then Gojo’s throwing his head back and cumming long and hard. Harder than he ever thinks he has before- his seed dribbles out of him like a gooey waterfall, taking place inside every nook and cranny you have.

Heavy balls clenching almost aggressively as they empty out inside you.

He’s swervin’ each ounce of it inside by dragging his globular tip, that reddened cockhead making you swear you taste Gojo all the way at your throat. 

Flooding.

Your toes curl, it almost feels as though he’s fucking you into a third and fourth high altogether-

“Until tomorrow-” Gojo barks out through his smoky tone, “Until always-” After reaching his high so many times in one night, his sparks of euphoria just rip through him. And you can feel the sheer intensity of it by the way his slippery slick thwacks! against the back of your pussy, hot and heavy. It seems to inflate you from the inside, “Until we have our…fuck.”

And it’s not like Gojo to let up a sentence. Especially one that wavered with emotion.

“Until I have…” He starts again, blue eyes twinkling. “…you.”

Right now he was cupping the side of your face with his left hand- accidentally…or perhaps not…dslodging the translating device from your ear.

And then the Na’vi olo’eyktan leans with his forehead pressing down on top of yours.

Dragging his hand down the side of your head, where his beads for you twinkled in the glow of Eywa’s tree. Breathing out the words—“Oel ngati kameie, muntxa si.”

He looks at you with a slightly sad smile as if he was almost bitterly glad you didn’t understand. Though little did he know…“Oel ngati kameie, Satoru.”

And the look on his face was worth all the time you’d spent poring over Na’vi language books with Shoko these past few days. At least you understood this.

You grin, “I did a bit of research myself.”

He holds you tight, he holds you as if he wanted you two to become one.

More so.

Eventually—after about four or so more rounds, and once you were thoroughly shattered and kept on begging for it, Gojo had swiped his long kuru into his hand and raised it up to you. You yourself didn’t have one, but if there was anything you learned from being with the Herwi people—it’s that love comes in all forms and differences.

You press your lips to his flower-like nerves at the very end of his braid. Immediately, a rush of something between you two and you understand what he meant about being mates.

You feel what Gojo sees.

You feel what Gojo smells.

You feel what Gojo hears.

You feel what Gojo tastes.

You feel what Gojo feels.

You feel complete.

.

.

.

Day #6 in the Herwi village (day after the mating):

The ancient of the Herwi clan were one of the only believers in fated mates, of one who had been destined to walk beside you upon this good planet through Eywa’s will. It was said that life does not flower until one meets one’s fate, not even the skies shall migrate, not even the ice shall melt. 

Two souls bound to meet.

And until then one can only look up, up, up…

This scientist was found in quite the curious position as mate to the olo’eyktan on the morning after.

Re-entering the village, hand-in-hand, it was inevitable that the Herwi people would stare. Not only was it quite past the deadline of six moons given, but each bore resemblance of a mating session that could’ve been spotted a smile away.

Bite marks. Bruises. Slight falter in walking.

Not to mention that it seems word had spread about the…inoccupancy of the Tree of Winter just the night prior. (Additionally for more on Herwi stamina read Page 69…)

Circling back, the stares were rather unabashed. Some gasping. Some ribbing. Some tuts by elders of the clan who then again turned around with a smile.

It was obvious that they had been praying for the olo’eyktan’s happiness for a long, long time.

It must be noted that congratulations were doled out heavily at the communal dinner that night. Food. Dances. Parades.

It must be noted even further that preparations for coronation at the Herwi tsahìk shall be taking place in a week’s time. Who would have thought, a human being a tsahìk? Who would have thought that humans had fated mates as well?

For this scientist’s final note, preparations are already being planned meticulously for the arrival of a new heir to the Gojo name.

And that leaves the scientific community with one last thing, now that fluency in the Na’vi language is on the path to be attained: the glossary.

Tsahìk - Head shaman, high priest, interpreter..

Olo’eyktan - Male clan leader.

Mawey - Calm.

Txeylan - Best friend.

Ì’awn - Stay.

Fnu - Be quiet.

Txen - Awake.

Nga lu rusey- oh, nga lu rusey. - You’re alive- oh, you’re alive.

Oe'm lefpom. Txen? Lu nga txen? Tsal pung? - I’m happy. Awake? You’re awake? Are you injured?

‘Upe lu nga fwew? - What are you looking for?

Yawne? Oe'd tìng aynga. - Beloved? I’d give you anything.

Oe pey ngim krr. - I’ve been waiting a long time.

Tìnga’prrnen - Pregnant.

Tìnga’prrnen? Oe? - Pregnant? Me?

Nga new ne kanom oe tìnga’prrnen. - You want to get me pregnant?

Fì'u - This.

Irayo nga - Thank you.

Oe ke ronsem tsonta lu tìnga’prrnen. - I wouldn’t mind being pregnant.

Lake Yapay - Lake Steam.

Hona beads - Endearing.beads.

Mt. Hoet - Vast.

Kuru - Neural queue.

Oel ngati kameie, muntxa si. - I see you, my mate.

Oel ngati kameie, Satoru. - I see you, Satoru.

A/N. It must be acknowledged that Herwi culture was influenced by some aspects of Inuit culture, as well as some aspects of my own Sinhalese culture! Both such beautiful cultures that I was honored to research more in-depth on. Also this Na'vi vocabulary bank was used, and for longer Na’vi sentences this translator was used and might not be fully accurate ahhh-

Your righteousness pissed him off. Everything about you pissed him off. You were a freak too, weren’t you? Why did you get to thrive, receive fame, love and affection, while people like him and Kenjaku were despised from birth? 

Was it because you were pretty? 

Give him a break. 

With a flick of his wrist, a dart struck your image, embedding itself directly between your eyes. He’d need to replace the picture soon, it was growing laden with holes. 

You wouldn’t be so pretty once he was done with you. How much would the world rally behind you then? Once you looked like nothing more than the monsters that you so ruthlessly struck down night after night? 

He couldn’t wait to execute his plan, to see that look of despair on your face when you figured out what was happening moments too late for you to do anything to stop it. 

But for now he had to be patient. 

The first part of his plan had already played out beautifully. He’d been there that night at the zoo, when the media had made you watch his video. He’d looked on with glee at your momentary hesitation before proclaiming that the video he’d made was a hoax, that the media shouldn’t be paying it or him any attention. 

He’d seen the way that your lips had parted in shock, eyes widening at the sight of his monstrous form. It had stroked his ego, knowing that there was fear running through that pretty head of yours, knowing that all of your thoughts were focussed on him. 

Had he dominated your thoughts after that? Did you spend your nights filled with anxiety at the thought of what action he’d take against you next? 

He sure hoped so. 

If everything went his way, soon your thoughts would be flooded with him. That would make it all the more sweet when he took everything away from you. 

“My lord. Here’s your suit for this evening’s function.” His servant, Uraume stood in the doorway, their head slightly bowed. 

He barely moved at their sudden presence, eyes still fixed on that stupid image of you. He was currently lounging on his bed, enjoying some peace and quiet in his normal body before he’d have to transform into that gross human form of his. Uraume’s appearance was a sign of that time coming to an end. 

Soon he’d have to hide his extra arms and eyes, squeeze into a foolish suit, and act like he was nothing less than human around his stupid co-workers.

“Are we still initiating the plan as discussed?” They asked simply, their tone measured. 

“Of course.” He said. That brought a smile to his face, because today wasn’t just any day at the office for him. “Summon a monster up on the 20th floor when I give you the signal. Then make yourself scarce.” 

Uraume nodded in understanding, hanging the suit on the back of the door before hesitating. Sukuna glanced over at them, four red eyes fixed on the carefully schooled expression on their face. He knew them well enough to understand when they had something to say, even if they were eager to avoid speaking out of turn. 

“Go on.” He encouraged, waving a hand at them. 

“Are you sure about talking to her? The real her?” 

Rising to his feet, Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at his servant. Uraume dipped their head once more, ever careful to show him respect. It was almost annoying, he’d rather they just be straightforward with him. 

“Why wouldn't I be?” He asked. 

Getting to know the real you was a vital part of his plan to have you fall into complete despair - without that the whole thing would be lackluster. Not to mention, there was a part of him that wasn’t sure he even could kill you as Shining Star without pulling off all the stages of his plan beforehand. 

“What if she knows that it's you? Or what if she doesn’t take the bait?” 

“She won’t know it's me.” He scoffed. “She’s too arrogant to think I’d know who she really is. Besides, I’ll charm her so well that such a thought would never even figure into her mind.” 

“And if you don’t?” 

“Don’t what?” 

“Charm her?” 

His expression was a picture of displeasure. He could hardly believe that Uraume would even suggest that such a thing was within the realms of possibility. In his human form he was very conventionally attractive, and he knew that he was a smooth talker. Not only had he been with plenty of women in his life, but there was no way he’d have gotten his stupid job at Limitless if not for his charm. 

Since that was all Gojo thought about when hiring people. 

“Out of the question.” Sukuna said firmly. “I’m charming.” 

“To normal people, yes, but she’s…weird.” 

Uraume had been following you for months now, ever since they’d figured out who you really were. They’d staked out your house night after night, knew your commute to work like the back of their hand, and had watched you duck into some quiet place to transform into Shining Star on numerous occasions. 

What had really struck them following all their recon was how painfully boring your life was. 

It didn’t seem like you had any friends or family. When you weren’t doing your magical girl thing you’d be in your house moping around. You didn’t excel or stand out at your job, you were just there, doing what you needed to do without anyone really recognising you. 

At first they’d thought it might be some kind of an act, but the more they dug into your past, the more it became apparent that there just wasn’t much to tell. You’d lived a typical childhood only for your parents to move overseas when you started university - just after Shining Star had first come into existence. 

Outside of that, the only remotely interesting thing about you were your medical records, which flagged a long stay at the hospital during your teenage years. For what purpose, Uraume wasn’t able to find out, but what did that matter anyway? 

You seemed like you were the type of person who was hellbent on blending in, always alone, unbothered to build relationships with others. 

And that was what had them thinking that maybe Sukuna’s charm wouldn’t work. 

On the contrary, Sukuna believed that was exactly why it would.

Because if you were so closed off, he could only imagine that you were lonely - that you were so desperate for actual love and affection that you’d fall for it hook, line and sinker if he gave you the smallest taste of genuine interest. 

He was counting on it. 

That was the cornerstone of his plan, after all. While the King of Curses would create fear and chaos in your magical girl life, Sukuna would be there to offer you sympathy and comfort in your human one. You’d start to trust him, confide in him amongst all the turmoil that this villain was causing you. 

And then, he’d pull the rug out from underneath you. 

He couldn’t wait to see the look of betrayal and despair on your face. 

“It’ll work.” Sukuna said simply, firmly dismissing Uraume’s line of argument. His grin was sharp as he stared down at his servant, the thrill of the evening’s task building up as excitement in his chest. 

Tonight he’d lay the seeds of your downfall, and you’d be none the wiser. 

 “Have some faith in me. I know exactly what I’m doing.” 

—

Sukuna had known what he was doing. 

Mostly. 

Things had gone entirely to plan at that damn party. He’d waited for an opportunity where you were alone - an opportunity that had come more easily than he’d expected, and he’d turned on the charm and flirted with you. 

Just like he’d been expecting, you’d fallen for his bait. Shiny eyes all wide and creasing with joy from all the attention he was giving you. You were fickle, just like he’d assumed, and getting you to give him your number had taken all of five minutes. 

Pathetic really. 

The other aspect of his plan had worked out just as well. Uraume had summoned that monster as expected, and Sukuna had the glory of confirming what he already knew to be true - you were indeed Shining Star. 

Your odd behaviour had started the second that creature was born into the world. It was amusing to see you scramble and pretend nothing was wrong, even with sweat dripping down your forehead at the agony. But he feigned ignorance all the same - he needed to keep his cover for now. 

Things had admittedly gotten a little dicey when he followed you up to the 20th floor. 

His intent had been to show his face, to gloat at you a little and shake you up before disappearing once more. He wanted to let the suspense get to you, let you quiver with anxiety, turn him into something even scarier than he was - like how Jaws is much scarier before you see the shark properly. 

But something had overcome him when he’d seen you standing there, looking all exhausted like you had any right to be. 

It pissed him off. 

Before he’d even known what was happening he was on top of you, keeping you pinned down firmly beneath him, fingers digging harshly into your soft skin. It made him feel good, powerful, to see you trapped beneath him - all nervous and struggling, focussed solely on him. 

And maybe it was because of how sweet and open you’d been to his advances on the balcony, but he definitely wasn’t expecting you to blast him like that - as if you were trying to kill him outright. 

It was almost rude in his opinion, considering all the effort he was going through to make your death a spectacle - were you really so cold as to just kill him right there and then? No foreplay at all? How narcissistic. 

Ultimately your attempt to kill him had worked in his favour though. It had allowed him to savour that expression of pure terror on your face when he grew his arms back immediately. Clearly that type of regeneration wasn’t something you were capable of and it scared you. 

Good. 

So overall, his evening was great. Perhaps he’d even go as far as to say that it was perfect. All of his plans were falling into place, and Uraume had reported that you’d seemed super shaken up when you’d hurried out of the party. 

And yet, for some reason he wasn’t happy. 

Because something about that evening, about you, the real you, had irked him. 

Maybe it was the way his heart had actually fluttered when you’d turned to look at him on that balcony. Or perhaps it was to do with your mannerisms, the way that you’d come across so unsure and unaccepting of the idea of being flirted with. 

You were nothing like the image that he had of Shining Star. 

Just as pretty. Prettier even. 

But nothing else lined up in the way that it should. The real you was introverted, something of a loner - insecure even. You’d seemed as though compliments were an alien concept to you, as if you didn’t get showered in them every evening. There was a dim quality to your eyes that painted you as someone who was genuinely tired, unhappy with their lot in life but pushing on nonetheless. 

It just didn’t make sense to him. 

Despite all the evidence, it had him questioning that you were even the correct girl. Because how could someone like you be his greatest adversary? How could you be the same woman who imposed her ideals upon others like he’d seen from Shining Star?

He had to convince himself that you were simply a better actress than he’d accounted for. 

Like Uraume had said, it was possible that you were doing everything in your power to seem unextraordinary, to look like you were no one worth a second glance, to keep people at an arms length so that your secret wouldn’t be discovered. 

That was it, right? 

Even if your exhaustion, your apparent lack of purpose in life seemed so convincing, it had to just be an act. 

Your real self was annoying. You were Shining Star and you were annoying. 

You weren’t some pretty girl who made his heart pound with a single glance, it was probably just another one of your magic tricks, some stupid thing that you were doing which could beguile any man. 

He wouldn’t be fooled. 

Really. He wouldn’t. 

The person in control of this situation was him. He was the one who was going to charm you and then pick you apart piece by piece. You were the one that was going to be fooled and that was all there was to it. 

There was no point reading into his own reactions. 

No point in thinking too much about the wet dream that he’d had that night - the image of you on your knees before him, lips wrapped firmly around his cock, uncertain eyes gazing up at him affectionately. It was all just you trying to maliciously get into his head and he wasn’t going to let that happen. 

Because you meant absolutely nothing to him. 

And that was what he kept telling himself when he next met up with you a week later. 

It was a date that he’d set up, reaching out to you via the number that you’d provided him with at that work party. He had to admit that he was a little annoyed that you didn’t make the first move, but Uraume convinced him that it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t the type to actively seek out connection, he’d have to be the one driving things. 

So he made a reservation at some fancy restaurant and invited you along on a date. Just like he’d planned from the very start. 

You’d shown up a little late, dark bags beneath your eyes, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as you apologised profusely to him. You’d mumbled something about your boss keeping you late as you sat down, a statement that had him almost rolling his eyes. He was sure that it wasn’t your day job that had kept you from arriving on time. 

After all, he hadn’t exactly made your week easy. 

With all the mental anguish that you’d caused him, he’d childishly made the decision to unleash some suffering upon you in the short time that you’d been apart. Both he and Uraume had been travelling all over the city, coaxing out monsters in the most inconvenient places, getting great joy out of watching you flit about endlessly putting out the fires he’d started. 

Part of him wanted to show his face to you again, wanted to feel that same rush he’d felt when the two of you had scrapped at the party. But the more you physically saw of the King of Curses, the higher the chances that you’d start to see something off about Sukuna. 

The red eyes were a big giveaway, after all. 

So he’d reluctantly stayed hidden, letting the monsters do his bidding. That was enjoyable enough, especially when he’d raise up eight or nine at one time and your face would fall in dismay at the sight of them all. He loved that pretty look of despair that you’d quickly try to hide, the clear frustration that your night wouldn’t be as easy as you wanted it to be. 

Uraume had raised up a few monsters just as Sukuna had set off for your date. He’d figured that would add to your misery tenfold. He doubted you were the type of person who was okay with letting others down, and he could only assume that you’d feel super guilty showing up late to a date with a guy you liked. 

And if your dejected expression as you sat across from him was anything to go by, he was right on the money with that idea.

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved you off with a wide smile. 

His crimson gaze skimmed over your outfit, his body stirring traitorously as he drank in the view. You’d gone for a simple yet elegant look, donning a black silken dress that stopped just above your knees. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating your curves and allowing his thoughts to run wild for approximately five seconds before he shut them down. 

He hated how pretty you were, both in this form and as Shining Star - it was a great source of infuriation for him.

You were like some kind of siren, gorgeous in a way that would draw him in against his will for some evil purpose. He’d fall for no such sorcery.

But it did make it easier for him to sound sincere when he complimented you.

“I didn’t think you could get any prettier than how you looked out on that balcony but, wow.” He breathed. 

Eyes widening, you froze up at his words, hands tightening around the menu that the waiter had just handed to you. It was almost like you couldn’t quite process it, the cogs taking a moment to start turning again in your brain. 

He still couldn’t believe that mere compliments were so effective on you. You really were starved of affection. 

“Oh I’m-” you paused, taking a deep breath before smiling. “Thank you.” 

He laughed aloud. “Ah, look who learned how to take a compliment.” 

You pouted sweetly, averting your gaze back down to the menu. The place that he’d chosen was fancy, the type of location that you’d only go to for the sake of hosting one of those fancy events that you helped organise. Not the sort of restaurant that you’d generally visit in your free time on account of the price and the fact that you largely lived in social isolation. 

The discomfort showed on your face almost immediately as you skimmed the options, eyes flitting over the prices.

He’d picked this place intentionally, eager to offer a display of power and wealth right from the outset. 

“Get whatever you want, I’m paying.” He said simply, as if it was no big deal. 

But you both knew it was. 

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that!” You replied, flustered. “I can pay for myself-” 

“I insist.” His red eyes shone as he caught your eye, a smug smile fixed on his handsome face. “Working for Gojo has its perks, let me treat you.” 

You blinked a few times, staring back at him uncertainly, almost like you were going to fight back. Seconds later your shoulders were dropping in resignation, mumbling something about how he was too nice as you scoured the menu. 

If only you knew that he was currently being the complete opposite of nice. 

The waiter returned and the two of you made your orders. He noted that you’d chosen the cheapest item on the menu, a revelation that irked him in some way. It was like you were allergic to being selfish, always choosing to take the ground of righteousness. If someone had offered him whatever he wanted, he was sure as hell going to be taking advantage of it. 

Not you though. Not Little Miss Perfect. 

For a while the two of you made small talk. He led most of the conversation, launching into an explanation about his role as Gojo’s Legal Director. His aim was to make you as at ease as possible, create an illusion that he was confiding in you so that you’d feel comfortable to do the same back. 

So he went on and on about his time at Limitless, his neverending list of troubles that Gojo posed to him as a boss, and his hopes and dreams for the future. He lied about most of it, because all of his hopes and dreams revolved around your suffering, but he couldn’t exactly come out and say that. 

It wasn’t until the food had already arrived, steaming on the table before you, that he finally started digging into questions about you. 

“I guess your boss must suck too, huh? Keeping you late and all that.” 

“Yeah…” You murmured with a wry smile, impaling a piece of pasta with your fork. It didn’t seem like a topic you were particularly interested in - knowing your secret, he doubted you cared much about your real job at all. 

“So, what did you have to stay late to do today?” 

He figured he’d been nice enough this evening to allow himself a little bit of fun, apply some gentle pressure to you in the form of forcing you to lie and cover up your identity. 

“Oh, uhh…” You trailed off for a moment, brow creasing. 

It was crystal clear that you were attempting to make something up, caught off guard by the fact that he’d even ask. Like Uraume had said, with your tendency to isolate yourself, it was unlikely that you’d ever really had to lie or explain anything to anyone - there was no one in your life who’d ever grow suspicious of your actions. 

Sukuna was going to take great joy in torturing you over the coming weeks by forcing you to come up with explanations ceaselessly. He wanted to see how easily he could catch you out. 

“They needed some support for a charity event that the responsible business department is hosting.” You said finally. 

“Oh, what’s the charity?” He asked without missing a beat, enjoying himself entirely too much. 

You shrugged. “Hell if I know. Something about supporting financial literacy? I was just pitching in on some logistics stuff they were struggling with.” 

Weren’t you quick? Perhaps you were better at this than he’d thought.

“Right.” He hummed. “I thought you loved engaging with charity work though?”

“Oh I do.” You bit back quickly. “I’m more about health related charities though, places that help with cancer research and stuff.” 

Ah, you’d given that some thought since the last time you’d spoken to him. You were clearly clever enough to anticipate that he was going to ask and prepare a realistic enough response. He supposed that you did have a few brain cells after all. 

“Cancer research? Why?” 

He was straight forward in his questioning, not really thinking much of it. Honestly, he’d only asked because he was eager to catch you out in another lie, to watch you scramble for a response as to why you were ‘working’ with those charities. But the way that you’d winced at his query caught him off guard, as if it was a topic that you didn’t want to discuss rather than a lie you needed to tell. 

“It’s- it's just close to my heart, I guess.” You said finally. The words had come out slowly, as if you were taking your time to articulate what you wanted to say in an effective manner. 

“Close to your heart?” He pressed. 

He told himself that he wanted to know more because it would prove you as a liar, not because he was genuinely interested in what you were hiding, curious about the tiny quiver in your tone. 

“Yeah…” 

You were hesitant, gaze moving down to the table. Tilting his head, he watched you push your food around anxiously, as if avoidance would get him to forget the topic and move on entirely. Even if he wasn’t out to destroy your life he probably wouldn’t have dropped things that easily, but he was aware that if he wanted answers he should take a different tact. 

“Sorry, I feel like I’ve said something to upset you. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You glanced up in surprise, expression softening just a little, wide eyes laden with a hint of what he could only describe as guilt. “No, sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You said quickly, in a clear effort to reassure him. 

It was almost cute, the effort you were making to appease him. Like he’d assumed, you really were desperate for human attention, afraid to let go of a connection that had so forthrightly presented itself to you. 

He wondered idly what else you’d be willing to do for the sake of his attention. How far could he make you humiliate yourself in front of him before he cruelly broke your heart? 

It was an interesting experiment. 

“If you’re sure?” He said, putting on his most sympathetic tone and expression. 

“I’m- yeah- it's just a heavy topic for me, I’m not used to discussing it.” You let out a nervous laugh, lowering your gaze once more. 

“I lost a family member to cancer, so I can relate if that’s what you mean by it being near to your heart.” He said sincerely. 

It was a lie, a brazen one at that. He’d never known his father and he’d run away from his mother at the mere age of eleven. He hoped that awful woman had died from cancer after all she’d put him through, but he’d never know for sure. 

Either way, it felt like the right thing to say to deepen your trust in him. Shared trauma was one hell of a bonding agent, he needed you to believe that you had something in common - for you to believe that he was one of those unique people that truly got you. 

A gross idea from his side, because there was no way in hell that he’d ever be someone who related to someone as unlikeable as you, but he’d commit to anything for the sake of his plan. 

“Oh. I’m really sorry to hear that.” 

Unlike his faux sympathy, he could tell that yours was genuine. Your voice had softened, and you were gazing up at him with compassion. It irked him beyond belief, because he didn’t believe that anyone in the world was genuinely a do-gooder in the way that you liked to present yourself.

It was all fake. You probably only acted so kind because you wanted to feel good about yourself. At the end of the day you still killed Kenjaku, so he could see straight through your false empathy. 

Once you knew who he was there was no doubt in his mind that you’d be rejoicing at the thought of him losing a loved one to cancer. 

You were just as ugly as him on the inside. 

“It was a long time ago.” He said, injecting the appropriate amount of somberness into his tone. “All I’m trying to say is that if you have something like that you wanna talk about, I’m here to listen.” 

God, he felt so gross right now.

“I- uh…” You trailed off for a moment, caught up in your thoughts. You worried your lip between your teeth, as if weighing up how deeply you wanted to share whatever was on your mind. It was as though there was some invisible force holding you back, likely your intense fear of connection that had left you so isolated across the years. 

“Not pushing you.” He interrupted with a practiced smile. “If you don’t want to say anything, it's fine. I was just curious considering my own experience - I thought I might have found a kindred spirit…” 

Now that really drove the knife home. If you’d been more experienced with relationships he probably wouldn’t have said something like that, because it was so blatantly manipulative that it was almost laughable - but he was counting on your lack of social skills to accelerate your attachment to him right now. 

He was going to build a connection and fast - dig his hooks into you so deep today that he could accelerate his plan significantly. 

Plus, he’d love to know if there was someone you loved who was suffering from cancer, because he could no doubt exploit that weakness somehow. 

“Perhaps not quite a kindred spirit, I think our experiences are a little different.” 

Your voice was soft as you averted your gaze again. His shoulders drooped in disappointment, assuming that whatever opportunity he’d been digging at was disappearing before him. 

At least, until you spoke again. 

“I had cancer when I was a teenager. I’m about to celebrate ten years of being all clear, actually.”

He froze, staring at you completely perplexed. 

No, that couldn’t be right, could it?

You were Shining Star, the perfect, righteous, magical girl with the perfect life. The woman who was above it all, the woman who got to pick and choose who was worthy of mercy and who wasn’t. You weren’t some weak little girl who’d had cancer. That just didn’t make sense. 

For a moment, concern bubbled up in his chest at the idea that you might be lying, that you might know exactly who he was and now you were playing him, trying to get him all confused, forcing him to give you sympathy where he knew none was really deserved. 

But there was no way that you could be aware of his identity, it was a total impossibility. 

So why lie? 

Uraume had said that you’d had some extended hospital stay as a child so what you were saying did check out. 

Whatever, what fucking difference did it make? 

While he was caught up assessing his own view of you, he hardly registered the way that you grimaced at his lack of response, eyes moving down to your plate, awkwardly pushing around the food with your fork once more. 

“I don’t usually mention it to people.” You said sheepishly. “I always feel like it ends up with someone being uncomfortable.” 

“No.” He said quickly, realising that he needed to be perfect right now - he could sort his thoughts out later. Uraume would help him put things back in perspective, help alleviate the confusion in his chest at a fairly strong suggestion that you were actually human. “I was just a little surprised, that’s all.” 

You were still just the magical girl that he wanted to destroy. His heart definitely wasn’t fluttering at the look of sheer relief in your eyes at his words. That would be ridiculous. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t expect it, right?” You gestured vaguely to yourself. 

There was no doubt that you were right about that. You were beautiful after all - even through all his hatred there was no denying a basic fact. Your eyes were bright, your skin radiant and soft, your body clearly strong. You were the picture of health, the type of woman who looked like she’d breezed through life. 

It was the illusion that he’d bought into. 

The one he was still clinging onto now, because he hated the uncomfortable itch that settled into his chest at the thought of you all small and frail in a hospital bed. His adversary was someone unfathomably strong, the type of person who would bend to nothing. 

That was what you were to him. 

You weren’t someone who had suffered, someone who had faced the same hardships and trauma that he had. The two of you weren’t alike, you weren’t kindred spirits, there was no common ground. There just couldn’t be. 

Fuck, you really pissed him off. 

“No, I wouldn’t expect it.” He said carefully, trying not to let his turmoil seep into the character he was currently playing. “So you’re all clear now?” 

That would at least bring him some peace. Your life was perfect now. 

Grimacing a little at the question, you gave him a small nod. “Should be, yeah.” 

“Should be?” 

You sighed heavily. “Yeah. It was- my recovery, it was something of a miracle, I suppose?” 

He tilted his head in interest, genuine interest this time.

“A miracle?” He echoed. 

“Mmm.” You placed your cutlery down, fiddling with the sleeve of your dress. “I was terminal. They put me in palliative care and everything. Nothing had been working - it had been years of chemo and hair loss, and I was finally told that I only had weeks to live. I’d been prepared and everything at that point, I was just so fucking tired.” 

You paused for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before glancing up at him. Up until now your eye-contact had been largely avoidant, but now you were staring straight into his crimson irises, displaying a confidence that reflected Shining Star far more convincingly than anything else he’d seen from you. 

“And then, it just disappeared.” 

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“The tumor that had been growing in my esophagus, the same tumor that had spread to my kidneys and liver, it was all suddenly just gone.” 

A miracle indeed. 

“Doctors couldn’t understand it - it was a medical impossibility and yet the evidence was right there in front of them. The cancer was gone from everywhere, there wasn’t a trace of it left in my blood. It was like I’d never been sick at all.” 

Outwardly, he kept a skeptical look as he listened to your story. Internally he was trying to fit this new information into the image of you that he kept in his mind. Uraume had said that you’d come out of hospital a short while before Shining Star had started appearing, which meant your miracle and your alter ego were no doubt connected to each other. 

Although, in what way, he wasn’t quite sure. 

Perhaps you’d always been Shining Star and only uncovered your powers in a moment of need, using your healing powers to destroy the cancer. He supposed that would make you something similar to him, a person who was born different. Someone who was born into so much hatred that their soul merged with that of a monster. 

However, his gut told him that your deal was something else entirely - both your hatred of Kenjaku and the existence of your amulet pointed to that. Your powers weren’t natural, they’d been given to you. You were no monster hybrid, but a beacon of hope and benevolence - you weren’t like him. 

So how had your powers come about? What did they have to do with your miracle? And could they be taken from you just as easily? He’d need to dig a bit more in the future, because the origin of your powers could teach him plenty about more effective ways to permanently kill you. 

Since he still didn’t have a complete answer when it came to that. 

“I’d been through years of pain, years of hospital rooms, pity, and chemo, only to come out of the other side like nothing had happened.” You added, leaning an arm on the table as you stared off into the distance. 

“Well, then your life is perfect right?” He asked, trying to keep the spite out of his tone. “What appeared to be an inevitable end simply disappeared overnight. I suppose that makes you the luckiest person on the planet.” 

He wasn’t sure if his words came across as bitter. What he would’ve given for a miracle at some point in his life - for some respite from the curse that had haunted him from birth.

You gave him a sad smile, taking a long sip from your glass of wine. “I suppose so.” Your voice was soft. “Although I can’t help but wonder about that.” 

He snorted in disbelief. “What? Would it be luckier to have died? Are you about to say some profound thing about the life you’re living not really being worth it?” 

A measured smile remained on your lips, soft eyes sweeping over him. Your attention summoned a warmth in his chest that he didn’t quite understand - the flicker of something akin to a connection. 

He almost wanted to look away, a prickly discomfort crawling up his neck as he held your sad gaze. 

“No. But you’re something of a businessman, aren’t you? Everything comes with a price. So when someone calls me lucky, I can’t help but think they’re likely mistaken. I know that miracle didn’t come to me for free.” 

His eyes widened at the pure resignation in your quiet tone, a sense of quiet despair that had him faltering. There was a hopeless quality to you, an exhaustion that he was more than familiar with - one that betrayed a life of hardship and suffering. 

Instead of the bright and confident hero, Shining Star, the woman sitting before him was tired and vulnerable. You were the type of person who the world had beaten down, left lonely and shattered even despite the miracle that had saved your life.  

He hated the sticky feeling that seized his throat while he thought of what to say, pity coiling in his chest for the last person he should ever feel it towards. 

And it wasn’t just the odd feeling of understanding and sympathy that bothered him.

To anyone else, your comment would’ve been something throwaway, a mere anxiety of a woman who had undergone too much suffering to ever be comfortable that it wouldn’t simply return in greater force. 

To him, your words meant something different. 

The miracle was associated with you becoming a magical girl, and there was a cost. 

Was there more to you than he’d initially thought? He’d always had this view of a woman who had taken up a role of righteousness willingly, not one who had reluctantly taken up the mantle in exchange for some miracle. 

The idea made his chest feel tight. 

“How do you know it wasn’t free?” He pressed. 

“Just a feeling.” You said easily, shutting down his line of questioning. “Either way, these days I like to help people as much as I can. Perhaps I was given a chance to stay on this earth so that I could do good, maybe that’s the price that I pay. Who knows?” 

You knew - that he was sure of. You just weren’t going to tell him. 

Not yet anyway. 

“Mmm. I think I’d just accept the luck and move on, but I guess you’re a better person than me.” He said with an easy laugh. 

You giggled, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “I’m sure that’s not true.” 

“Oh it definitely is.” He teased. “You called it the first time we met - all I do is defend the rights of a morally corrupt company. Meanwhile you’re like some saint or something, causing miracles and whatnot.” He waved his hands in your general direction to emphasise his point. 

“No…” You mumbled shyly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

There was something about the way that your cheeks reddened that he liked. It was infuriating, but his gaze was instantly drawn to it, his ego boosted at the idea that he was having any sort of effect on you. 

That was definitely what his strange feeling was - it was about desiring power and control over your emotions, nothing more. 

It had nothing to do with the way that you stared at him - gazing up at him with an affection and interest that he wasn’t used to. It had nothing to do with the confession that you’d shared with him either, the fact that you’d opened up about something that was clearly hard for you to discuss. 

No, that was pathetic of you to do. 

You were stupid to let him hold all the cards, foolish to confide in a man like him, idiotic to assume that he’d be even slightly moved by the tragic experience that you’d undergone. It was naive to assume that he was trustworthy, that he cared about a single word that came out of your mouth. 

It wasn’t like your vulnerability played on his mind for the rest of his evening, embedding itself into his initial view of you like a dagger, throwing his thoughts of you into total disarray. Because it didn’t matter that you weren’t exactly like he’d imagined, right? 

Even if he did feel a little bit bad for you, it didn’t change anything. Even if his attempt to act like a kindred spirit had backfired in a way that had him actually feeling like one. You still needed to disappear. 

He still needed to stick to the plan. 

You’d killed Kenjaku, you hated people like him, and he couldn’t lose sight of what you were. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

—

He hadn’t planned on sleeping with you that night. 

To be clear, he hadn’t really planned on sleeping with you at all. 

He’d figured that he could make up some lie about waiting for marriage or something, provide you with a reason not to have sex whilst still pushing forward with the development of your relationship. Because why would he fuck someone that he despised? 

Except there he was at the end of the date, standing outside your door, nodding along easily when you asked him if he wanted to come in. 

He wasn’t really sure what had possessed him to end up in the position he was in now. 

To some extent, he was aware that it was because he’d ended up having something of an enjoyable evening with you, even if he didn’t really want to admit that to himself. After the cancer conversation, things had been uncannily easy. For some reason he found that he wasn’t straining at all to keep up his act, making conversation with you and batting back flirtatious remarks with total ease. 

You’d made him genuinely laugh a few times, his heart had raced when your fingers had brushed against his across the table, and at the end of the night you’d sweetly asked if he could accompany you back to your place since there’d been a few crimes in the area.

As if that would pose any risk to you. 

But he went along with it all the same. 

It had been easy to reason with himself at first, tell himself that he needed to grab any chance to deepen his bond with you, and that he couldn’t pass up on an opportunity to snoop around in your house. Perhaps he could uncover some great secret about you, find a way to weaken your power, expose something that he could hold over you in the future. 

Saying yes just made sense for his plan. 

However, justifying his presence in your house was a little bit harder when the two of you were tangled up in your sheets, his cock buried inside you, your nails raking desperately down his back. Your soft eyes were wide with desire, lips parted slightly, body quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts. 

His name was falling from your mouth in desperate gasps, your voice all high-pitched and breathy. He could feel you squeezing around him desperately, sucking him in like your life depended on it. It was pathetic really, the way that you were unravelling beneath him so easily, with no care in the world that the man making you feel this good was the last man who should ever see you in this state. 

Stupid. You were so stupid and careless. 

It would be so easy to kill you right now, to wrap his fingers around your delicate throat and crush your windpipe. But that wasn’t right, he wanted more from you than simply death, he wanted your complete and utter humiliation - he wasn’t about to rush things. 

Besides, he didn’t want to kill you in this form. He’d just be murdering some frail girl who’d miraculously recovered from cancer in her youth. When he finally got around to killing you, he’d do it while you were Shining Star - he’d settle for nothing less. 

Perhaps that was how he was justifying his current state. He was fucking you, not Shining Star, and somehow in his head, that made the whole thing less gross.  

So instead of killing you or stopping, he lost himself in the feeling of your body, his lips bruising your neck with kisses, his fingers brushing over your pebbled nipples, enjoying every little twitch that he elicited from you. It was proof that he held all the power in this exchange, you had what you had because of him, you were totally at his mercy. 

Just like you should be. 

It was because of his desire for total domination that he came inside you, filling you up with his seed and thoroughly leaving his mark behind. He did it because one day that fact would be a humiliation for you. 

Not because he didn’t have the willpower to pull out of your tight heat. 

Not because he liked the way you whimpered his name when you came, shuddering on his cock. 

Definitely not. 

This was all just to sell the illusion, that was all. He wasn’t attracted to you - not even a little bit. There was no way that he’d have ever even given you a second glance if not for the fact that he needed to destroy your whole life. 

This was all just part of his evil plan. 

That was what he told himself when you huddled up in his arms like you belonged there, your naked body heavy with sleep. He hadn’t moved, made no effort to leave or escape. Instead he pulled you close, letting you drift off at his side. 

He told himself that he’d snoop another time, that today had simply been too taxing for him to do anything else. He’d made plenty of progress, the last thing he’d want was for you to catch him snooping with the leaps and bounds that he’d made in your trust today. 

So he fell asleep there in that soft bed that smelt so sweetly of you, his fingers running tenderly along your spine. All to sell the illusion of course - even if you were asleep, how could he be sure that you didn’t have cameras or anything? He could never let his guard down. 

Because he hated you. You were his enemy. He’d betray you and he’d kill you, and he couldn’t care less about how you felt about anything. 

Really, he hated you. 

Really.

a/n: sukuna is so fucking stupid out here calling her an idiot for falling for his charm like the exact same thing would NEVER befall him - buddy, only one of you has an unhealthy obsession and it AIN'T her

hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, can't wait to share more with you all! reblogs and comments are appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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Your righteousness pissed him off. Everything about you pissed him off. You were a freak too, weren’t you? Why did you get to thrive, receive fame, love and affection, while people like him and Kenjaku were despised from birth? 

Was it because you were pretty? 

Give him a break. 

With a flick of his wrist, a dart struck your image, embedding itself directly between your eyes. He’d need to replace the picture soon, it was growing laden with holes. 

You wouldn’t be so pretty once he was done with you. How much would the world rally behind you then? Once you looked like nothing more than the monsters that you so ruthlessly struck down night after night? 

He couldn’t wait to execute his plan, to see that look of despair on your face when you figured out what was happening moments too late for you to do anything to stop it. 

But for now he had to be patient. 

The first part of his plan had already played out beautifully. He’d been there that night at the zoo, when the media had made you watch his video. He’d looked on with glee at your momentary hesitation before proclaiming that the video he’d made was a hoax, that the media shouldn’t be paying it or him any attention. 

He’d seen the way that your lips had parted in shock, eyes widening at the sight of his monstrous form. It had stroked his ego, knowing that there was fear running through that pretty head of yours, knowing that all of your thoughts were focussed on him. 

Had he dominated your thoughts after that? Did you spend your nights filled with anxiety at the thought of what action he’d take against you next? 

He sure hoped so. 

If everything went his way, soon your thoughts would be flooded with him. That would make it all the more sweet when he took everything away from you. 

“My lord. Here’s your suit for this evening’s function.” His servant, Uraume stood in the doorway, their head slightly bowed. 

He barely moved at their sudden presence, eyes still fixed on that stupid image of you. He was currently lounging on his bed, enjoying some peace and quiet in his normal body before he’d have to transform into that gross human form of his. Uraume’s appearance was a sign of that time coming to an end. 

Soon he’d have to hide his extra arms and eyes, squeeze into a foolish suit, and act like he was nothing less than human around his stupid co-workers.

“Are we still initiating the plan as discussed?” They asked simply, their tone measured. 

“Of course.” He said. That brought a smile to his face, because today wasn’t just any day at the office for him. “Summon a monster up on the 20th floor when I give you the signal. Then make yourself scarce.” 

Uraume nodded in understanding, hanging the suit on the back of the door before hesitating. Sukuna glanced over at them, four red eyes fixed on the carefully schooled expression on their face. He knew them well enough to understand when they had something to say, even if they were eager to avoid speaking out of turn. 

“Go on.” He encouraged, waving a hand at them. 

“Are you sure about talking to her? The real her?” 

Rising to his feet, Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at his servant. Uraume dipped their head once more, ever careful to show him respect. It was almost annoying, he’d rather they just be straightforward with him. 

“Why wouldn't I be?” He asked. 

Getting to know the real you was a vital part of his plan to have you fall into complete despair - without that the whole thing would be lackluster. Not to mention, there was a part of him that wasn’t sure he even could kill you as Shining Star without pulling off all the stages of his plan beforehand. 

“What if she knows that it's you? Or what if she doesn’t take the bait?” 

“She won’t know it's me.” He scoffed. “She’s too arrogant to think I’d know who she really is. Besides, I’ll charm her so well that such a thought would never even figure into her mind.” 

“And if you don’t?” 

“Don’t what?” 

“Charm her?” 

His expression was a picture of displeasure. He could hardly believe that Uraume would even suggest that such a thing was within the realms of possibility. In his human form he was very conventionally attractive, and he knew that he was a smooth talker. Not only had he been with plenty of women in his life, but there was no way he’d have gotten his stupid job at Limitless if not for his charm. 

Since that was all Gojo thought about when hiring people. 

“Out of the question.” Sukuna said firmly. “I’m charming.” 

“To normal people, yes, but she’s…weird.” 

Uraume had been following you for months now, ever since they’d figured out who you really were. They’d staked out your house night after night, knew your commute to work like the back of their hand, and had watched you duck into some quiet place to transform into Shining Star on numerous occasions. 

What had really struck them following all their recon was how painfully boring your life was. 

It didn’t seem like you had any friends or family. When you weren’t doing your magical girl thing you’d be in your house moping around. You didn’t excel or stand out at your job, you were just there, doing what you needed to do without anyone really recognising you. 

At first they’d thought it might be some kind of an act, but the more they dug into your past, the more it became apparent that there just wasn’t much to tell. You’d lived a typical childhood only for your parents to move overseas when you started university - just after Shining Star had first come into existence. 

Outside of that, the only remotely interesting thing about you were your medical records, which flagged a long stay at the hospital during your teenage years. For what purpose, Uraume wasn’t able to find out, but what did that matter anyway? 

You seemed like you were the type of person who was hellbent on blending in, always alone, unbothered to build relationships with others. 

And that was what had them thinking that maybe Sukuna’s charm wouldn’t work. 

On the contrary, Sukuna believed that was exactly why it would.

Because if you were so closed off, he could only imagine that you were lonely - that you were so desperate for actual love and affection that you’d fall for it hook, line and sinker if he gave you the smallest taste of genuine interest. 

He was counting on it. 

That was the cornerstone of his plan, after all. While the King of Curses would create fear and chaos in your magical girl life, Sukuna would be there to offer you sympathy and comfort in your human one. You’d start to trust him, confide in him amongst all the turmoil that this villain was causing you. 

And then, he’d pull the rug out from underneath you. 

He couldn’t wait to see the look of betrayal and despair on your face. 

“It’ll work.” Sukuna said simply, firmly dismissing Uraume’s line of argument. His grin was sharp as he stared down at his servant, the thrill of the evening’s task building up as excitement in his chest. 

Tonight he’d lay the seeds of your downfall, and you’d be none the wiser. 

 “Have some faith in me. I know exactly what I’m doing.” 

—

Sukuna had known what he was doing. 

Mostly. 

Things had gone entirely to plan at that damn party. He’d waited for an opportunity where you were alone - an opportunity that had come more easily than he’d expected, and he’d turned on the charm and flirted with you. 

Just like he’d been expecting, you’d fallen for his bait. Shiny eyes all wide and creasing with joy from all the attention he was giving you. You were fickle, just like he’d assumed, and getting you to give him your number had taken all of five minutes. 

Pathetic really. 

The other aspect of his plan had worked out just as well. Uraume had summoned that monster as expected, and Sukuna had the glory of confirming what he already knew to be true - you were indeed Shining Star. 

Your odd behaviour had started the second that creature was born into the world. It was amusing to see you scramble and pretend nothing was wrong, even with sweat dripping down your forehead at the agony. But he feigned ignorance all the same - he needed to keep his cover for now. 

Things had admittedly gotten a little dicey when he followed you up to the 20th floor. 

His intent had been to show his face, to gloat at you a little and shake you up before disappearing once more. He wanted to let the suspense get to you, let you quiver with anxiety, turn him into something even scarier than he was - like how Jaws is much scarier before you see the shark properly. 

But something had overcome him when he’d seen you standing there, looking all exhausted like you had any right to be. 

It pissed him off. 

Before he’d even known what was happening he was on top of you, keeping you pinned down firmly beneath him, fingers digging harshly into your soft skin. It made him feel good, powerful, to see you trapped beneath him - all nervous and struggling, focussed solely on him. 

And maybe it was because of how sweet and open you’d been to his advances on the balcony, but he definitely wasn’t expecting you to blast him like that - as if you were trying to kill him outright. 

It was almost rude in his opinion, considering all the effort he was going through to make your death a spectacle - were you really so cold as to just kill him right there and then? No foreplay at all? How narcissistic. 

Ultimately your attempt to kill him had worked in his favour though. It had allowed him to savour that expression of pure terror on your face when he grew his arms back immediately. Clearly that type of regeneration wasn’t something you were capable of and it scared you. 

Good. 

So overall, his evening was great. Perhaps he’d even go as far as to say that it was perfect. All of his plans were falling into place, and Uraume had reported that you’d seemed super shaken up when you’d hurried out of the party. 

And yet, for some reason he wasn’t happy. 

Because something about that evening, about you, the real you, had irked him. 

Maybe it was the way his heart had actually fluttered when you’d turned to look at him on that balcony. Or perhaps it was to do with your mannerisms, the way that you’d come across so unsure and unaccepting of the idea of being flirted with. 

You were nothing like the image that he had of Shining Star. 

Just as pretty. Prettier even. 

But nothing else lined up in the way that it should. The real you was introverted, something of a loner - insecure even. You’d seemed as though compliments were an alien concept to you, as if you didn’t get showered in them every evening. There was a dim quality to your eyes that painted you as someone who was genuinely tired, unhappy with their lot in life but pushing on nonetheless. 

It just didn’t make sense to him. 

Despite all the evidence, it had him questioning that you were even the correct girl. Because how could someone like you be his greatest adversary? How could you be the same woman who imposed her ideals upon others like he’d seen from Shining Star?

He had to convince himself that you were simply a better actress than he’d accounted for. 

Like Uraume had said, it was possible that you were doing everything in your power to seem unextraordinary, to look like you were no one worth a second glance, to keep people at an arms length so that your secret wouldn’t be discovered. 

That was it, right? 

Even if your exhaustion, your apparent lack of purpose in life seemed so convincing, it had to just be an act. 

Your real self was annoying. You were Shining Star and you were annoying. 

You weren’t some pretty girl who made his heart pound with a single glance, it was probably just another one of your magic tricks, some stupid thing that you were doing which could beguile any man. 

He wouldn’t be fooled. 

Really. He wouldn’t. 

The person in control of this situation was him. He was the one who was going to charm you and then pick you apart piece by piece. You were the one that was going to be fooled and that was all there was to it. 

There was no point reading into his own reactions. 

No point in thinking too much about the wet dream that he’d had that night - the image of you on your knees before him, lips wrapped firmly around his cock, uncertain eyes gazing up at him affectionately. It was all just you trying to maliciously get into his head and he wasn’t going to let that happen. 

Because you meant absolutely nothing to him. 

And that was what he kept telling himself when he next met up with you a week later. 

It was a date that he’d set up, reaching out to you via the number that you’d provided him with at that work party. He had to admit that he was a little annoyed that you didn’t make the first move, but Uraume convinced him that it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t the type to actively seek out connection, he’d have to be the one driving things. 

So he made a reservation at some fancy restaurant and invited you along on a date. Just like he’d planned from the very start. 

You’d shown up a little late, dark bags beneath your eyes, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as you apologised profusely to him. You’d mumbled something about your boss keeping you late as you sat down, a statement that had him almost rolling his eyes. He was sure that it wasn’t your day job that had kept you from arriving on time. 

After all, he hadn’t exactly made your week easy. 

With all the mental anguish that you’d caused him, he’d childishly made the decision to unleash some suffering upon you in the short time that you’d been apart. Both he and Uraume had been travelling all over the city, coaxing out monsters in the most inconvenient places, getting great joy out of watching you flit about endlessly putting out the fires he’d started. 

Part of him wanted to show his face to you again, wanted to feel that same rush he’d felt when the two of you had scrapped at the party. But the more you physically saw of the King of Curses, the higher the chances that you’d start to see something off about Sukuna. 

The red eyes were a big giveaway, after all. 

So he’d reluctantly stayed hidden, letting the monsters do his bidding. That was enjoyable enough, especially when he’d raise up eight or nine at one time and your face would fall in dismay at the sight of them all. He loved that pretty look of despair that you’d quickly try to hide, the clear frustration that your night wouldn’t be as easy as you wanted it to be. 

Uraume had raised up a few monsters just as Sukuna had set off for your date. He’d figured that would add to your misery tenfold. He doubted you were the type of person who was okay with letting others down, and he could only assume that you’d feel super guilty showing up late to a date with a guy you liked. 

And if your dejected expression as you sat across from him was anything to go by, he was right on the money with that idea.

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved you off with a wide smile. 

His crimson gaze skimmed over your outfit, his body stirring traitorously as he drank in the view. You’d gone for a simple yet elegant look, donning a black silken dress that stopped just above your knees. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating your curves and allowing his thoughts to run wild for approximately five seconds before he shut them down. 

He hated how pretty you were, both in this form and as Shining Star - it was a great source of infuriation for him.

You were like some kind of siren, gorgeous in a way that would draw him in against his will for some evil purpose. He’d fall for no such sorcery.

But it did make it easier for him to sound sincere when he complimented you.

“I didn’t think you could get any prettier than how you looked out on that balcony but, wow.” He breathed. 

Eyes widening, you froze up at his words, hands tightening around the menu that the waiter had just handed to you. It was almost like you couldn’t quite process it, the cogs taking a moment to start turning again in your brain. 

He still couldn’t believe that mere compliments were so effective on you. You really were starved of affection. 

“Oh I’m-” you paused, taking a deep breath before smiling. “Thank you.” 

He laughed aloud. “Ah, look who learned how to take a compliment.” 

You pouted sweetly, averting your gaze back down to the menu. The place that he’d chosen was fancy, the type of location that you’d only go to for the sake of hosting one of those fancy events that you helped organise. Not the sort of restaurant that you’d generally visit in your free time on account of the price and the fact that you largely lived in social isolation. 

The discomfort showed on your face almost immediately as you skimmed the options, eyes flitting over the prices.

He’d picked this place intentionally, eager to offer a display of power and wealth right from the outset. 

“Get whatever you want, I’m paying.” He said simply, as if it was no big deal. 

But you both knew it was. 

“Oh, no, I can’t ask you to do that!” You replied, flustered. “I can pay for myself-” 

“I insist.” His red eyes shone as he caught your eye, a smug smile fixed on his handsome face. “Working for Gojo has its perks, let me treat you.” 

You blinked a few times, staring back at him uncertainly, almost like you were going to fight back. Seconds later your shoulders were dropping in resignation, mumbling something about how he was too nice as you scoured the menu. 

If only you knew that he was currently being the complete opposite of nice. 

The waiter returned and the two of you made your orders. He noted that you’d chosen the cheapest item on the menu, a revelation that irked him in some way. It was like you were allergic to being selfish, always choosing to take the ground of righteousness. If someone had offered him whatever he wanted, he was sure as hell going to be taking advantage of it. 

Not you though. Not Little Miss Perfect. 

For a while the two of you made small talk. He led most of the conversation, launching into an explanation about his role as Gojo’s Legal Director. His aim was to make you as at ease as possible, create an illusion that he was confiding in you so that you’d feel comfortable to do the same back. 

So he went on and on about his time at Limitless, his neverending list of troubles that Gojo posed to him as a boss, and his hopes and dreams for the future. He lied about most of it, because all of his hopes and dreams revolved around your suffering, but he couldn’t exactly come out and say that. 

It wasn’t until the food had already arrived, steaming on the table before you, that he finally started digging into questions about you. 

“I guess your boss must suck too, huh? Keeping you late and all that.” 

“Yeah…” You murmured with a wry smile, impaling a piece of pasta with your fork. It didn’t seem like a topic you were particularly interested in - knowing your secret, he doubted you cared much about your real job at all. 

“So, what did you have to stay late to do today?” 

He figured he’d been nice enough this evening to allow himself a little bit of fun, apply some gentle pressure to you in the form of forcing you to lie and cover up your identity. 

“Oh, uhh…” You trailed off for a moment, brow creasing. 

It was crystal clear that you were attempting to make something up, caught off guard by the fact that he’d even ask. Like Uraume had said, with your tendency to isolate yourself, it was unlikely that you’d ever really had to lie or explain anything to anyone - there was no one in your life who’d ever grow suspicious of your actions. 

Sukuna was going to take great joy in torturing you over the coming weeks by forcing you to come up with explanations ceaselessly. He wanted to see how easily he could catch you out. 

“They needed some support for a charity event that the responsible business department is hosting.” You said finally. 

“Oh, what’s the charity?” He asked without missing a beat, enjoying himself entirely too much. 

You shrugged. “Hell if I know. Something about supporting financial literacy? I was just pitching in on some logistics stuff they were struggling with.” 

Weren’t you quick? Perhaps you were better at this than he’d thought.

“Right.” He hummed. “I thought you loved engaging with charity work though?”

“Oh I do.” You bit back quickly. “I’m more about health related charities though, places that help with cancer research and stuff.” 

Ah, you’d given that some thought since the last time you’d spoken to him. You were clearly clever enough to anticipate that he was going to ask and prepare a realistic enough response. He supposed that you did have a few brain cells after all. 

“Cancer research? Why?” 

He was straight forward in his questioning, not really thinking much of it. Honestly, he’d only asked because he was eager to catch you out in another lie, to watch you scramble for a response as to why you were ‘working’ with those charities. But the way that you’d winced at his query caught him off guard, as if it was a topic that you didn’t want to discuss rather than a lie you needed to tell. 

“It’s- it's just close to my heart, I guess.” You said finally. The words had come out slowly, as if you were taking your time to articulate what you wanted to say in an effective manner. 

“Close to your heart?” He pressed. 

He told himself that he wanted to know more because it would prove you as a liar, not because he was genuinely interested in what you were hiding, curious about the tiny quiver in your tone. 

“Yeah…” 

You were hesitant, gaze moving down to the table. Tilting his head, he watched you push your food around anxiously, as if avoidance would get him to forget the topic and move on entirely. Even if he wasn’t out to destroy your life he probably wouldn’t have dropped things that easily, but he was aware that if he wanted answers he should take a different tact. 

“Sorry, I feel like I’ve said something to upset you. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You glanced up in surprise, expression softening just a little, wide eyes laden with a hint of what he could only describe as guilt. “No, sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You said quickly, in a clear effort to reassure him. 

It was almost cute, the effort you were making to appease him. Like he’d assumed, you really were desperate for human attention, afraid to let go of a connection that had so forthrightly presented itself to you. 

He wondered idly what else you’d be willing to do for the sake of his attention. How far could he make you humiliate yourself in front of him before he cruelly broke your heart? 

It was an interesting experiment. 

“If you’re sure?” He said, putting on his most sympathetic tone and expression. 

“I’m- yeah- it's just a heavy topic for me, I’m not used to discussing it.” You let out a nervous laugh, lowering your gaze once more. 

“I lost a family member to cancer, so I can relate if that’s what you mean by it being near to your heart.” He said sincerely. 

It was a lie, a brazen one at that. He’d never known his father and he’d run away from his mother at the mere age of eleven. He hoped that awful woman had died from cancer after all she’d put him through, but he’d never know for sure. 

Either way, it felt like the right thing to say to deepen your trust in him. Shared trauma was one hell of a bonding agent, he needed you to believe that you had something in common - for you to believe that he was one of those unique people that truly got you. 

A gross idea from his side, because there was no way in hell that he’d ever be someone who related to someone as unlikeable as you, but he’d commit to anything for the sake of his plan. 

“Oh. I’m really sorry to hear that.” 

Unlike his faux sympathy, he could tell that yours was genuine. Your voice had softened, and you were gazing up at him with compassion. It irked him beyond belief, because he didn’t believe that anyone in the world was genuinely a do-gooder in the way that you liked to present yourself.

It was all fake. You probably only acted so kind because you wanted to feel good about yourself. At the end of the day you still killed Kenjaku, so he could see straight through your false empathy. 

Once you knew who he was there was no doubt in his mind that you’d be rejoicing at the thought of him losing a loved one to cancer. 

You were just as ugly as him on the inside. 

“It was a long time ago.” He said, injecting the appropriate amount of somberness into his tone. “All I’m trying to say is that if you have something like that you wanna talk about, I’m here to listen.” 

God, he felt so gross right now.

“I- uh…” You trailed off for a moment, caught up in your thoughts. You worried your lip between your teeth, as if weighing up how deeply you wanted to share whatever was on your mind. It was as though there was some invisible force holding you back, likely your intense fear of connection that had left you so isolated across the years. 

“Not pushing you.” He interrupted with a practiced smile. “If you don’t want to say anything, it's fine. I was just curious considering my own experience - I thought I might have found a kindred spirit…” 

Now that really drove the knife home. If you’d been more experienced with relationships he probably wouldn’t have said something like that, because it was so blatantly manipulative that it was almost laughable - but he was counting on your lack of social skills to accelerate your attachment to him right now. 

He was going to build a connection and fast - dig his hooks into you so deep today that he could accelerate his plan significantly. 

Plus, he’d love to know if there was someone you loved who was suffering from cancer, because he could no doubt exploit that weakness somehow. 

“Perhaps not quite a kindred spirit, I think our experiences are a little different.” 

Your voice was soft as you averted your gaze again. His shoulders drooped in disappointment, assuming that whatever opportunity he’d been digging at was disappearing before him. 

At least, until you spoke again. 

“I had cancer when I was a teenager. I’m about to celebrate ten years of being all clear, actually.”

He froze, staring at you completely perplexed. 

No, that couldn’t be right, could it?

You were Shining Star, the perfect, righteous, magical girl with the perfect life. The woman who was above it all, the woman who got to pick and choose who was worthy of mercy and who wasn’t. You weren’t some weak little girl who’d had cancer. That just didn’t make sense. 

For a moment, concern bubbled up in his chest at the idea that you might be lying, that you might know exactly who he was and now you were playing him, trying to get him all confused, forcing him to give you sympathy where he knew none was really deserved. 

But there was no way that you could be aware of his identity, it was a total impossibility. 

So why lie? 

Uraume had said that you’d had some extended hospital stay as a child so what you were saying did check out. 

Whatever, what fucking difference did it make? 

While he was caught up assessing his own view of you, he hardly registered the way that you grimaced at his lack of response, eyes moving down to your plate, awkwardly pushing around the food with your fork once more. 

“I don’t usually mention it to people.” You said sheepishly. “I always feel like it ends up with someone being uncomfortable.” 

“No.” He said quickly, realising that he needed to be perfect right now - he could sort his thoughts out later. Uraume would help him put things back in perspective, help alleviate the confusion in his chest at a fairly strong suggestion that you were actually human. “I was just a little surprised, that’s all.” 

You were still just the magical girl that he wanted to destroy. His heart definitely wasn’t fluttering at the look of sheer relief in your eyes at his words. That would be ridiculous. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t expect it, right?” You gestured vaguely to yourself. 

There was no doubt that you were right about that. You were beautiful after all - even through all his hatred there was no denying a basic fact. Your eyes were bright, your skin radiant and soft, your body clearly strong. You were the picture of health, the type of woman who looked like she’d breezed through life. 

It was the illusion that he’d bought into. 

The one he was still clinging onto now, because he hated the uncomfortable itch that settled into his chest at the thought of you all small and frail in a hospital bed. His adversary was someone unfathomably strong, the type of person who would bend to nothing. 

That was what you were to him. 

You weren’t someone who had suffered, someone who had faced the same hardships and trauma that he had. The two of you weren’t alike, you weren’t kindred spirits, there was no common ground. There just couldn’t be. 

Fuck, you really pissed him off. 

“No, I wouldn’t expect it.” He said carefully, trying not to let his turmoil seep into the character he was currently playing. “So you’re all clear now?” 

That would at least bring him some peace. Your life was perfect now. 

Grimacing a little at the question, you gave him a small nod. “Should be, yeah.” 

“Should be?” 

You sighed heavily. “Yeah. It was- my recovery, it was something of a miracle, I suppose?” 

He tilted his head in interest, genuine interest this time.

“A miracle?” He echoed. 

“Mmm.” You placed your cutlery down, fiddling with the sleeve of your dress. “I was terminal. They put me in palliative care and everything. Nothing had been working - it had been years of chemo and hair loss, and I was finally told that I only had weeks to live. I’d been prepared and everything at that point, I was just so fucking tired.” 

You paused for a moment, sucking in a deep breath before glancing up at him. Up until now your eye-contact had been largely avoidant, but now you were staring straight into his crimson irises, displaying a confidence that reflected Shining Star far more convincingly than anything else he’d seen from you. 

“And then, it just disappeared.” 

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“The tumor that had been growing in my esophagus, the same tumor that had spread to my kidneys and liver, it was all suddenly just gone.” 

A miracle indeed. 

“Doctors couldn’t understand it - it was a medical impossibility and yet the evidence was right there in front of them. The cancer was gone from everywhere, there wasn’t a trace of it left in my blood. It was like I’d never been sick at all.” 

Outwardly, he kept a skeptical look as he listened to your story. Internally he was trying to fit this new information into the image of you that he kept in his mind. Uraume had said that you’d come out of hospital a short while before Shining Star had started appearing, which meant your miracle and your alter ego were no doubt connected to each other. 

Although, in what way, he wasn’t quite sure. 

Perhaps you’d always been Shining Star and only uncovered your powers in a moment of need, using your healing powers to destroy the cancer. He supposed that would make you something similar to him, a person who was born different. Someone who was born into so much hatred that their soul merged with that of a monster. 

However, his gut told him that your deal was something else entirely - both your hatred of Kenjaku and the existence of your amulet pointed to that. Your powers weren’t natural, they’d been given to you. You were no monster hybrid, but a beacon of hope and benevolence - you weren’t like him. 

So how had your powers come about? What did they have to do with your miracle? And could they be taken from you just as easily? He’d need to dig a bit more in the future, because the origin of your powers could teach him plenty about more effective ways to permanently kill you. 

Since he still didn’t have a complete answer when it came to that. 

“I’d been through years of pain, years of hospital rooms, pity, and chemo, only to come out of the other side like nothing had happened.” You added, leaning an arm on the table as you stared off into the distance. 

“Well, then your life is perfect right?” He asked, trying to keep the spite out of his tone. “What appeared to be an inevitable end simply disappeared overnight. I suppose that makes you the luckiest person on the planet.” 

He wasn’t sure if his words came across as bitter. What he would’ve given for a miracle at some point in his life - for some respite from the curse that had haunted him from birth.

You gave him a sad smile, taking a long sip from your glass of wine. “I suppose so.” Your voice was soft. “Although I can’t help but wonder about that.” 

He snorted in disbelief. “What? Would it be luckier to have died? Are you about to say some profound thing about the life you’re living not really being worth it?” 

A measured smile remained on your lips, soft eyes sweeping over him. Your attention summoned a warmth in his chest that he didn’t quite understand - the flicker of something akin to a connection. 

He almost wanted to look away, a prickly discomfort crawling up his neck as he held your sad gaze. 

“No. But you’re something of a businessman, aren’t you? Everything comes with a price. So when someone calls me lucky, I can’t help but think they’re likely mistaken. I know that miracle didn’t come to me for free.” 

His eyes widened at the pure resignation in your quiet tone, a sense of quiet despair that had him faltering. There was a hopeless quality to you, an exhaustion that he was more than familiar with - one that betrayed a life of hardship and suffering. 

Instead of the bright and confident hero, Shining Star, the woman sitting before him was tired and vulnerable. You were the type of person who the world had beaten down, left lonely and shattered even despite the miracle that had saved your life.  

He hated the sticky feeling that seized his throat while he thought of what to say, pity coiling in his chest for the last person he should ever feel it towards. 

And it wasn’t just the odd feeling of understanding and sympathy that bothered him.

To anyone else, your comment would’ve been something throwaway, a mere anxiety of a woman who had undergone too much suffering to ever be comfortable that it wouldn’t simply return in greater force. 

To him, your words meant something different. 

The miracle was associated with you becoming a magical girl, and there was a cost. 

Was there more to you than he’d initially thought? He’d always had this view of a woman who had taken up a role of righteousness willingly, not one who had reluctantly taken up the mantle in exchange for some miracle. 

The idea made his chest feel tight. 

“How do you know it wasn’t free?” He pressed. 

“Just a feeling.” You said easily, shutting down his line of questioning. “Either way, these days I like to help people as much as I can. Perhaps I was given a chance to stay on this earth so that I could do good, maybe that’s the price that I pay. Who knows?” 

You knew - that he was sure of. You just weren’t going to tell him. 

Not yet anyway. 

“Mmm. I think I’d just accept the luck and move on, but I guess you’re a better person than me.” He said with an easy laugh. 

You giggled, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “I’m sure that’s not true.” 

“Oh it definitely is.” He teased. “You called it the first time we met - all I do is defend the rights of a morally corrupt company. Meanwhile you’re like some saint or something, causing miracles and whatnot.” He waved his hands in your general direction to emphasise his point. 

“No…” You mumbled shyly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

There was something about the way that your cheeks reddened that he liked. It was infuriating, but his gaze was instantly drawn to it, his ego boosted at the idea that he was having any sort of effect on you. 

That was definitely what his strange feeling was - it was about desiring power and control over your emotions, nothing more. 

It had nothing to do with the way that you stared at him - gazing up at him with an affection and interest that he wasn’t used to. It had nothing to do with the confession that you’d shared with him either, the fact that you’d opened up about something that was clearly hard for you to discuss. 

No, that was pathetic of you to do. 

You were stupid to let him hold all the cards, foolish to confide in a man like him, idiotic to assume that he’d be even slightly moved by the tragic experience that you’d undergone. It was naive to assume that he was trustworthy, that he cared about a single word that came out of your mouth. 

It wasn’t like your vulnerability played on his mind for the rest of his evening, embedding itself into his initial view of you like a dagger, throwing his thoughts of you into total disarray. Because it didn’t matter that you weren’t exactly like he’d imagined, right? 

Even if he did feel a little bit bad for you, it didn’t change anything. Even if his attempt to act like a kindred spirit had backfired in a way that had him actually feeling like one. You still needed to disappear. 

He still needed to stick to the plan. 

You’d killed Kenjaku, you hated people like him, and he couldn’t lose sight of what you were. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

—

He hadn’t planned on sleeping with you that night. 

To be clear, he hadn’t really planned on sleeping with you at all. 

He’d figured that he could make up some lie about waiting for marriage or something, provide you with a reason not to have sex whilst still pushing forward with the development of your relationship. Because why would he fuck someone that he despised? 

Except there he was at the end of the date, standing outside your door, nodding along easily when you asked him if he wanted to come in. 

He wasn’t really sure what had possessed him to end up in the position he was in now. 

To some extent, he was aware that it was because he’d ended up having something of an enjoyable evening with you, even if he didn’t really want to admit that to himself. After the cancer conversation, things had been uncannily easy. For some reason he found that he wasn’t straining at all to keep up his act, making conversation with you and batting back flirtatious remarks with total ease. 

You’d made him genuinely laugh a few times, his heart had raced when your fingers had brushed against his across the table, and at the end of the night you’d sweetly asked if he could accompany you back to your place since there’d been a few crimes in the area.

As if that would pose any risk to you. 

But he went along with it all the same. 

It had been easy to reason with himself at first, tell himself that he needed to grab any chance to deepen his bond with you, and that he couldn’t pass up on an opportunity to snoop around in your house. Perhaps he could uncover some great secret about you, find a way to weaken your power, expose something that he could hold over you in the future. 

Saying yes just made sense for his plan. 

However, justifying his presence in your house was a little bit harder when the two of you were tangled up in your sheets, his cock buried inside you, your nails raking desperately down his back. Your soft eyes were wide with desire, lips parted slightly, body quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts. 

His name was falling from your mouth in desperate gasps, your voice all high-pitched and breathy. He could feel you squeezing around him desperately, sucking him in like your life depended on it. It was pathetic really, the way that you were unravelling beneath him so easily, with no care in the world that the man making you feel this good was the last man who should ever see you in this state. 

Stupid. You were so stupid and careless. 

It would be so easy to kill you right now, to wrap his fingers around your delicate throat and crush your windpipe. But that wasn’t right, he wanted more from you than simply death, he wanted your complete and utter humiliation - he wasn’t about to rush things. 

Besides, he didn’t want to kill you in this form. He’d just be murdering some frail girl who’d miraculously recovered from cancer in her youth. When he finally got around to killing you, he’d do it while you were Shining Star - he’d settle for nothing less. 

Perhaps that was how he was justifying his current state. He was fucking you, not Shining Star, and somehow in his head, that made the whole thing less gross.  

So instead of killing you or stopping, he lost himself in the feeling of your body, his lips bruising your neck with kisses, his fingers brushing over your pebbled nipples, enjoying every little twitch that he elicited from you. It was proof that he held all the power in this exchange, you had what you had because of him, you were totally at his mercy. 

Just like you should be. 

It was because of his desire for total domination that he came inside you, filling you up with his seed and thoroughly leaving his mark behind. He did it because one day that fact would be a humiliation for you. 

Not because he didn’t have the willpower to pull out of your tight heat. 

Not because he liked the way you whimpered his name when you came, shuddering on his cock. 

Definitely not. 

This was all just to sell the illusion, that was all. He wasn’t attracted to you - not even a little bit. There was no way that he’d have ever even given you a second glance if not for the fact that he needed to destroy your whole life. 

This was all just part of his evil plan. 

That was what he told himself when you huddled up in his arms like you belonged there, your naked body heavy with sleep. He hadn’t moved, made no effort to leave or escape. Instead he pulled you close, letting you drift off at his side. 

He told himself that he’d snoop another time, that today had simply been too taxing for him to do anything else. He’d made plenty of progress, the last thing he’d want was for you to catch him snooping with the leaps and bounds that he’d made in your trust today. 

So he fell asleep there in that soft bed that smelt so sweetly of you, his fingers running tenderly along your spine. All to sell the illusion of course - even if you were asleep, how could he be sure that you didn’t have cameras or anything? He could never let his guard down. 

Because he hated you. You were his enemy. He’d betray you and he’d kill you, and he couldn’t care less about how you felt about anything. 

Really, he hated you. 

Really.

a/n: sukuna is so fucking stupid out here calling her an idiot for falling for his charm like the exact same thing would NEVER befall him - buddy, only one of you has an unhealthy obsession and it AIN'T her

hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, can't wait to share more with you all! reblogs and comments are appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

taglist (open): @starmapz @feyrinnn @riri-1234 @cherrycokeline @4shrimps @dogggggggblog-kaye @winkii @keikeisuke @feyrasworld @sukubusss @motel6killer @yeagersss @gegeeeeeeeeeeex @autwizzy @adettee @himezoro @juiceboxluvr @sugrfairie @lmaogottazayn @pwd54gr54 @maya2848 @irislostinyouriris @anothergojostan @bam-boozledx @360seas @plaguecxlt @leave-rae-alone @daburasdoll @nicerthanu @monic19 @ankotaiyakii @aiive @indiewritesxoxo @throwmethroughawindow @wackywhip @seellove @kariatenoh @hashahasha @r0vena @dawnsoblivion @luvleixo @venettahaven @powerhayakawaa @dollienanaaa @justfiq @kaagrwl @yourfavkaur @martianzmars @jjkfannn34 @jiannazescape

There’d been an insane wave of incidents lately, all consisting of several monsters appearing at once, which used to be a rarity. You were almost convinced that there was someone behind the attacks, some villain with powers like yours, but at this point you couldn’t be bothered to dig into it. 

If there was some greater evil you were certain that they’d make themselves known to you at some point. Why expend the energy chasing them down? 

Playing with the golden amulet around your neck, you considered taking it off - transforming back into your normal form and sneaking out some side exit. It was a tempting thought, but one you knew you weren’t going to follow through on - if someone saw you, the normal you, coming out of an off-limits area then suspicions would be aroused and your cover would be blown. 

That was the last thing you wanted. 

The only time you could get some peace was when you weren’t wearing the damn amulet - when you were anonymous. 

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the exit and stepped out to face the crowds. Plastering on a big smile as if your anxiety wasn’t spiking at the cheers and flashes of cameras. It was apparent that the media weren’t the only ones there to see you, your heart sinking at the sight of the general public, fans of yours, holding up signs and wearing your merchandise. 

God, you hated it. 

If you’d wanted to be treated like an idol, you would’ve chosen that career path. 

You’d had no choice in becoming a magical girl. 

“Shining Star! Shining Star! Will you sign my shirt?” 

Shining Star. That’s what the media had called you when you’d first started out as a magical girl. You’d had no real say in the matter - hadn’t been ready with another name for your alter ego back then, so it just kind of stuck. 

Not ideal, but better than them knowing your real name. 

You waved off your fans with an apologetic smile, gesturing over to the media. Generally, the reporters didn’t like it when the public were around and wasting your time, so you’d often use them as a scapegoat to avoid interacting with those who wanted signatures from you. There was a ripple of ‘awws’ from the crowd, but no real vitriol. 

They all knew it was a longshot. 

Unlike actual idols it wasn’t like you did fanmeets or anything like that - you were illusive and private, only ever sighted at the scene of a monster or villain attack. They knew not to expect too much, but they loved you all the same. 

Or, they loved Shining Star. 

If your real identity was ever uncovered you were sure that they wouldn’t love you. 

All they wanted was someone extraordinary, some kind of untouchable deity who could keep their city safe from danger with a rainbow sword and blasts of light from her hands. You weren’t a human to them. 

Hell, you barely looked human with your amulet on, with your hair and eyes losing their normal colour and obtaining this weird effect where the hue would change depending on the light, as if you were made out of crystals or something.

Golden star markings would appear on your cheeks, your normal clothes would fade away in favour of a short, flowy white dress with a metal star sitting between your breasts, and your hair would suddenly decide to defy gravity, always floating up in some stupid way once the transformation was complete. 

In your mind you looked like a child’s drawing of a magical girl, an image that wasn’t helped by the way that your sword would shimmer with all the colours of the rainbow, as if  conceptualised by a five year old with a new set of coloured crayons. 

It certainly wasn’t the look that you’d have chosen for yourself. 

But that didn’t stop people going wild for it. 

You could see plenty of people with makeshift cosplays in the crowd, with their colourful plastic swords and dyed hair, all falling short of the uniquely weird atmosphere that your form gave off. 

If only you could pass your burden onto them, let them take the amulet, since they all seemed so desperate to be you. 

“Shining Star. What happened in there tonight?” 

This journalist was one that you knew. She was a pretty woman with long brown hair and a scar across her face. She tended to be one of the kinder reporters, one that treated you like you were human. It was always a relief to see her over the ones that wanted to see you fail - the ones who scrutinised all of your actions. 

“It seems that a few monsters found their way into the zoo. Since it happened after the park had closed, there were no casualties and the situation was resolved quickly.” 

Your words were honest, but didn’t quite tell the whole story - that was the line you always walked with the media. They couldn’t know that monsters were born out of discontent, that the creatures roaming the zoo hadn’t found their way in, but had rather been born there. 

In this case they had been created from the despair of the mistreated animals inhabiting the park. 

That wasn’t odd in itself. You were familiar with monsters and the hotspots for their appearances. What was odd was the sheer number that had popped up all at once, hence your suspicion that someone was actively speeding up the rate at which despair and discontent would gather in an area. 

Either way, it wasn’t a problem for tonight. 

A barrage of questions kept coming your way: 

“Is the zoo safe to reopen?” 

“Why are we seeing an increase in supernatural events?” 

“How do we know you aren’t setting up these incidents in the first place to make yourself look like a hero?” 

It was nothing that you hadn’t heard before, and you answered each query as politely as you could, a wide smile fixed on your face, as if anxiety wasn’t swirling in your chest at each attempt to pry into you and your actions. 

A holiday would be nice. You hadn’t had a break in years. Not like it was a realistic option - as long as you were the only magical girl in the city you couldn’t drop the ball for even a second. You were stuck on duty until you either passed away or someone else came along to help. 

And there hadn’t been someone else like you in years now. 

“Can you share your thoughts on the King of Curses?” 

You frowned at that question, tilting your head at the young reporter. That wasn’t a query that you’d heard before. 

Who the hell was the King of Curses? What a stupid name - you wondered if the media had come up with that or if it was a self-chosen alias. Genuinely embarrassing if someone was actually going around calling themselves that. 

“The King of Curses?” You asked, keeping a pleasant, interested smile on your face. 

“You haven’t seen the video?” 

There was a ripple of agreement and surprise amongst the reporters at your confusion, like this was some well-known thing that you’d been ignoring. And to be fair, it could be. Between your magical girl work and your actual life you didn’t have much time to catch up on social media and the like. 

As long as your head wasn’t pounding in agony, signalling the existence of a monster, you weren’t all that tuned in with the general goings on of the world. 

“No. What video?” 

It took less than ten seconds for a reporter to pull YouTube up on their phone, pressing on a video posted by the King of Curses, and holding the screen up for you to see. You supposed that confirmed that this guy really was just calling himself that. 

Lame.

The clip revealed a hulking figure clad in a dark robe, sitting at a table and staring directly at the camera. It was hard to make out any of his features, his face cast in shadow save for four blazing red eyes breaking through the darkness. 

“To the annoyance known as Shining Star, I have a message for you.”

His voice was calm, the tone a little distorted by some sort of voice modifier. Between that and his obscured appearance, you could only assume that he didn’t want to be identified - though, considering his advanced size, you imagined that he wouldn’t be hard to pick out in a crowd even if you didn’t have all his features down. 

“I’ve watched you run around this city like a fool for years, waving your stupid sword, playing at being some sort of hero. It's humiliating. I’ve seen you prance about like you’re god’s gift to this world, lecture people on righteousness like you’re the authority on the matter. You aren’t.”

God, what was this guy’s problem? 

You frowned at the screen, a little frustrated because between all the bad points he was making a couple of good ones - you did look stupid prancing around with your ridiculous sword. But you certainly didn’t think you were god’s gift to the world or anything like that - who was he to assume the way you thought? 

“You don’t understand anything about the world. I can tell. You just think you’re special because of your cute little magic tricks - you think you're worthy of attention because of them. You claim to fight for the people but you reek of privilege, of a life without hardship. You’re just a stupid little girl, and I’m tired of seeing you thrive unchecked.”

A life without hardship? You fucking hated this guy. 

“Someone needs to put you in your rightful place, and I’ll be the man to do it.”

A gasp left your lips as he shifted a little. Two burly forearms moved to rest on the table, hands coming up to support his chin. His bicep was easily bigger than your head, which was threatening in itself, but that wasn’t what really frightened you. 

The thing that genuinely struck fear into your heart was the way that he raised a second pair of arms as he spoke - bringing them up above his head in a casual stretch as if they were meant to be there. 

Was he like you? 

Was he just a human with the ability to transform? 

Or was he a new breed of monster with advanced intelligence? 

You weren’t quite sure which one would be worse. 

“You’ll be hearing from me very soon, girl. You don’t need to do anything, keep living your foolish little life as normal. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” 

And just like that the video cut to black, the reflection of your stunned expression showing in the darkness of the phone screen. You really wished that you hadn’t seen this for the first time in front of dozens of reporters who were all so clearly analysing the minutiae of your reaction. 

Schooling your expression, you looked up at the reporter who’d asked the initial question. “The King of Curses? Give me a break. The whole thing is clearly a hoax - if there was any weight behind any of that he wouldn’t be hiding behind a camera. It's all visual effects and fearmongering.” 

Your voice was confident, and you added in a shrug at the end to sound all nonchalant about the whole thing. Internally you were freaking out, because while this whole thing could be a hoax, something deep in your chest told you that it wasn’t. 

For this man to show up just when you’d been sensing that a villain had been behind things recently? Yeah, he was probably the real deal. And for him to have such a personal grudge against you was far from ideal. Your previous brushes with villains had been with those that wanted to bring destruction upon the world and would stop at nothing to get it. 

A desire to specifically destroy you was much more chilling. 

But offering a reaction to this man would be foolish, especially when it was so clear that he was watching all your actions. You’d stay cool and unbothered - that was always the best approach, that was what had kept you alive over the years. 

“You shouldn’t give this guy any screentime.” You continued. “It's not worth spreading negativity over - all he wants is attention.” 

The reporter nodded, and you tried to hold back a sigh as the other reporters started clamoring for further responses from you, completely disregarding your advice as they launched hundreds of questions your way speculating over the man’s identity, and what you were going to do about the situation. 

But you kept your smile up regardless. Just like always. 

You were their shining star after all. 

It took more than an hour for you to get home after that - politely standing by and answering questions until they were satisfied. 

God, you were sick of it. 

Keys clattering on the counter, you didn’t even bother turning on the lights before throwing yourself down on the sofa. A soft groan fell from your lips as you tossed your amulet to the floor, mind still swimming with the video that you’d been shown earlier that night. 

It felt good to transform back into yourself. 

Being in your magical girl form always felt a little unpleasant, like you were wearing someone else’s skin, the world appearing far too bright through those un-natural eyes. 

Going back to your own body felt like taking off an uncomfortable bra at the end of a long day. Even with the aches and pains that your mortal body would encounter whenever you’d turn back, it was still more pleasant to be in your own skin. 

If you had it your way you’d never transform again.

If only that was an option. 

After several years of this job you were just so tired of it. All you wanted these days was for things to be easy - for you to be able to show up and cut up a few monsters before heading home. The last thing you wanted was an actual villain on your hands. Especially not one that had a special interest in making your life a misery. 

The last big villain that you’d encountered had been a nightmare, and back then you hadn’t been the only magical girl around to help deal with him.

A soft meow sounded from the floor, and you reluctantly sat up to meet the big golden eyes of your cat. Her tail was flicking with irritation, letting out another meow in an attempt to voice her irritation with you. She was never best pleased with your unpredictable schedule, her meal times often shifted about to accommodate you. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled, pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing a pouch of cat food from the cupboard. Knees straining in protest, you crouched down to empty the food into her bowl, petting her soft fur as she instantly got to feasting. 

She was a sweet thing, the only real constant in your life at the moment. You’d found her at the scene of a monster appearance - just a kitten when you’d stumbled across her in some alleyway, hissing at a disgusting monster formed out of sewer junk. 

It had felt wrong to leave her there shivering in the cold after you’d dispatched of the monster - so you brought her home with you. There was nothing wrong with having a bit of company after all. 

Even if she was demanding as hell. 

You ran your fingers absentmindedly through her fur as she ate, wondering if you should make some food for yourself before heading to bed. It was almost midnight, and you hadn’t managed to grab anything between finishing work and heading over to the crisis at the zoo. 

But you knew that your cupboards were empty, and you didn’t have the energy to pop to the convenience store, so you’d have to opt for going to sleep hungry. It wasn’t like that was an unusual occurrence for you these days. 

You were just way too burnt out to get everything done lately. 

And with that villain’s words haunting your brain as you tried to get to sleep that night, all you could think about was how much you just wanted to catch a break. 

For once in your life, maybe life could take pity on you and send something good your way. 

—

A few weeks had passed since the incident at the zoo, and for the most part you’d started to relax again. There had been no more videos, no more strange incidents of multiple monster appearances. For the most part things had returned to relative normality for you. 

Instead of considering the fact that was weird in itself, you opted to choose peace. 

Maybe the video was just a hoax - no point in worrying over nothing. Although your subconscious didn’t seem to quite agree with you, throwing nightmare after nightmare your way, always focussed on him, on those four unwavering red eyes staring back at you in the darkness. 

Fortunately, you were so busy with things in your real life right now that you didn’t have the time to give too much thought to any issues in your magical girl one, brushing your night terrors aside and fully focussing on your day job. 

For the last few weeks at work you’d been rushed off your feet with preparations for a big event your company was holding to celebrate some new partnership with a massive organisation known as Limitless. You weren’t even sure what they did, dabbling with pharmaceuticals or something of the like - frankly you couldn’t care less. 

All that mattered to you was that the party was perfect, and that all the corporate bigwigs were happy. 

And so far, everything was going swimmingly. 

The celebrations were well underway and everyone was drinking and mingling, gorging themselves on the incredible buffet. You were doing your best to make yourself scarce, which wasn’t exactly a challenge - in your normal form you weren’t anything special. Some might say that you’d lived a painfully average existence outside of that damn amulet.

You had a normal family, achieved average grades at school, and promptly got the most soul-sucking boring corporate job imaginable. Not to say that was a bad thing - you’d never really wanted anything more than a normal life, it was why you’d been so vigilant at keeping your identity hidden. 

If everyone knew you, the real you, both your normal life and magical girl life would change. 

Was it so much to ask for you to stay normal in one of them? 

Deciding that the event attendees were sufficiently satisfied, you opted to slip out unnoticed - heading onto the balcony with a glass of champagne in hand. It was quiet out there, a couple of party-goers spread out across the platform, none of them paying you any mind. You made your way over to the glass barrier, resting your arms on it as you stared out at Tokyo. 

You hoped that no monsters rose up tonight. It would be nice to have a quiet evening - head back home early and catch up on some TV. You’d been hearing good things about Pluribus, it sure would be nice to have some time to actually watch it. 

“Not enjoying the party?” 

You glanced up in surprise, turning to see the most handsome man you’d ever encountered. He was tall and muscular, with soft pink hair pushed back from his forehead. An easy smile lit up his tattooed face, his maroon eyes fixed on you with interest. 

For a moment, you glanced around to see if he was talking to someone else, heart fluttering at the realisation that his gaze was, in fact, on you. 

“Uh- no- it's not really my thing.” You giggled nervously, internally scolding yourself for the way you stuttered. 

“No?” His voice was deep, the sound of it sending goosebumps up your arms. “But I heard you were the one who organised it?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, a curiosity that caught you off guard. 

Considering that he was a stranger, likely someone working for that Limitless company, you weren’t even sure how he’d found that out. It wasn’t like you ever got any recognition for the work you put into these things - as an events manager it was a given that you’d throw a good party, it was your entire job. 

As if sensing your confusion, his smile widened. “My boss demanded to know who was in charge of the organisation of the party - wanted to make sure you got some thanks.” He explained. 

“Your boss?” 

“Gojo Satoru.” 

Ah, just the CEO of Limitless. 

“Right. So you’re here to thank me?” You asked cautiously. 

If Gojo was his boss, he was clearly someone important. Probably one of the Limitless executives or something of the like. 

“Mmm.” He hummed, deep red eyes trailing up your form. “That’s why I came over, yeah. Wasn’t expecting you to be the prettiest woman in this whole place though.” 

Your lips parted with surprise at his bold flattery, heart fluttering in your chest. You weren’t accustomed to the way he was looking at you right now - it had been a long time since you’d even been on a first date, let-alone had someone stare at you with such open desire. 

“Oh- uh- I’m probably not.” You said before you could really think about it. 

For a moment, he looked thoroughly caught off guard, before easing into laughter. “Never received a compliment before?” 

Feeling flustered you scrambled for a response, thrown off balance by his teasing. “No- I-”

“You’re meant to say thank you.” 

The smug grin on his face was infuriatingly handsome, his eyes all bright and sparkling with amusement. Were you dreaming right now? Was this your idea of the perfect man that your subconscious had cruelly cooked up for you? Because this entire thing seemed far too good to be true. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, shyly averting your gaze back over to the view of the city, nervous under the pressure of his attention. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to understand how stifling his presence was, taking a few steps forward and leaning against the railing beside you. His arm brushed against yours as he took in the view, and that meagre contact alone had your skin burning. 

Sure, it had been a long time since you’d experienced human contact, but you needed to get a grip. Especially considering how unaffected he seemed, an unreadable expression on his tattooed face.

“So if this isn’t your type of thing, why do you even do this job?” 

You scoffed. “Why does anyone do a job? For money.” 

“Yeah but surely you could do something that is your thing that also pays money.” He said, as if working a job you didn’t like was some kind of alien concept to him. 

“Maybe.” You said with a shrug. “But doing a stupid corporate job helps me pay the bills - pursuing art or whatever probably wouldn’t. So here I am.” 

He frowned, looking down at you with interest. “Is that your thing then? Doing art?” 

Honestly, you weren’t really sure what your thing was. You’d dabbled in plenty of hobbies in your life, but never really managed to stick to one. The magical girl life was to thank for that - you rarely had free time, and when you did, you were far too tired to do anything of real worth. 

“No, I just- I don’t know. I don’t have a thing.” 

“That’s a lie.” He said, his tone a little colder than it had been before. For a moment, you felt an odd chill run through you, his sharp gaze striking unease into your chest. But the moment was gone as soon as it arrived, his features softening. “Everyone has a thing. So what’s yours?”

For a moment you faltered. You felt like you were tongue-tied, unable to clear your brain enough to think of a satisfying answer outside of the truth. But no matter how beguiling he was, or how much he made your heart flutter, you’d hold onto your secrets for now. 

So you diverted instead. 

“That’s a heavy question. I don’t even know your name and you want to know my purpose in life?” 

He let out a deep chuckle. “It's Sukuna. Now will you tell me?” 

You rolled your eyes, a small smile growing on your lips at how ridiculous he was. You had to admit that you were enjoying his company. After so much time distancing yourself from people, it felt nice to have someone show an interest in you. 

And if the way he’d shifted closer to you was anything to go by, he was definitely interested in you. 

“Wow, you don’t even want to know my name first?” You teased. 

“Already do. I was sent out here to thank you, remember? Do you really think I wouldn’t have found out your name first?” 

“Oh. Right.” You mumbled, feeling a little rude that you hadn’t asked him for his immediately. 

“So, let's hear it?” He prompted. “What’s your thing?”

There was an eagerness in those crimson eyes that had your stomach flipping, the playful nudge of his arm against yours leaving your skin laden with goosebumps.

“I guess I’m still figuring it out.” You said honestly. “Tried a lot of things but nothing ever feels right. I’m always just so damn tired from everything that I never feel like I have the time to explore all the things I want to, so instead I’m just frozen in this life.” 

You weren’t sure if that was a satisfactory answer to him, his gaze still firmly fixed on you, as if he was expecting more. Perhaps searching for a hint of falsity in your expression. But moments later he relented with a sigh. 

“Does this job really keep you that busy? Too tired to do anything else?” 

No. But you couldn’t exactly explain what was taking up most of your time. 

“Well, I do a lot of charity work too.” You said, almost proud of yourself for that half-truth. 

“Charity work?” 

He was smirking, expression one of pure disbelief, as if you weren’t the type of person he imagined to be doing such a thing. If only he knew how much of your life was taken up by charity work.

“Yeah, it's nice to give back - you know?”

He snorted. “No, I really wouldn’t know.” 

You pouted, not entirely surprised. The clothes that he was wearing denoted him as a rich man, someone who clearly held a lot of power in a room. Based on his role at Limitless you couldn’t imagine him to have the strongest moral compass when it came to stuff like that. 

And to be honest, you weren’t sure you could blame him. 

Having toiled away for the greater good for the last ten years, you wished you could turn a blind eye. If it weren’t for the consequences spelled out in your magical girl contract, you’d probably be in the exact same boat as him right now. 

Thankless jobs were thankless, and eventually it would wear down those with even the brightest souls. 

“Yeah, if you work directly for Gojo then you’ve got one of those evil jobs for real.” You said, taking note of the way that his smirk never faltered, hanging on your every word, as if he liked you prodding at him like this. 

It was infuriatingly attractive. 

Go on, tell me.” You continued. “What’s your thing? Your great purpose? Peddling drugs to people who can’t afford them?” 

“I’m in the legal department, so no.” He said with a chuckle. “Good try though.” 

“Oh, so just defending the company from any poor soul who had their life ruined by Limitless.”

“Ah, you got me.” He said easily, putting his hands up in surrender. It was obvious that he was messing with you, clearly not the least bit insecure about his role. “You’re right, my thing is being an awful person.” 

You pouted at the way he was playing with you, refusing to allow you to put him in a box in the same way he was trying to figure you out. It was a little annoying that he was doing a better job than you, coming across as far more adept at whatever this interaction was. 

Flirting, you supposed. 

“Maybe, if you gave me your number, you could help turn me into a better one.” 

Your lips parted in disbelief at how smoothly that line came out. He looked absolutely ecstatic as he waited for your response, all too pleased with himself. It was a shame to admit that the words actually worked on you, even if you did your best to keep up a facade of disappointment, rolling your eyes dramatically. 

“Who says I want to go out of my way to change a man?” 

“I thought you loved charity work, surely you wouldn’t turn down a man in need?” 

You giggled at the way he was blinking down at you all innocently, fully aware that his intentions were anything but pure. It was a charm that certainly worked on you, and you figured what the hell. You’d been devoid of anything romantic for a long time now, you weren’t going to pass up an opportunity that had fallen directly in your lap. 

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you unlocked it and passed it over to him, watching him add his number to your contacts and shoot himself a quick text. A warm smile settled on his lips as he handed it back to you. 

“Thanks.” He pulled out his own phone, most likely to check for the text, only to let out a deep sigh. “Sorry, I gotta go back in. My idiot boss needs me.” 

From what you’d heard of Gojo Satoru, he was something of a ridiculous man - you'd heard many people from your own company refer to him as an attention-seeking baby. It didn’t come as a surprise that he’d be demanding to those who worked for him. 

“No worries. I was planning on heading home soon anyway.” 

“Mmm, I’ll text you.” He said, pointing at his phone as he pulled away. “Would love to hear more about this charity work of yours.” 

“Sure.” You said nonchalantly. “Catch you later.”

“Enjoy your night.” He said softly, his red gaze lingering on your form for a few moments. The way that he so brazenly checked you out had your cheeks flushing, the deep husky tone of his voice leaving your stomach twisting with desire. 

Yeah you really needed to get a grip. 

“Thanks, hope you do-” 

A piercing pain shot through your head, cutting you off mid-sentence. You desperately tried to avoid keeling over in pain as your head throbbed insistently, a blinding pain pulsing behind your eyes. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d experienced this - it was the telltale warning of a nearby monster. You’d never felt it come on so strong so quickly though - for the feeling to be this intense the monster would have to be practically on top of you. 

“Something wrong?” Sukuna asked, appraising you with a furrowed brow as he stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder and help you straighten up. 

“No, sorry- cramp.” You offered weakly. 

You weren’t really paying attention to him right now, scanning around you desperately. Something was nearby, and you couldn’t transform right now, not until you got Sukuna away from you. 

“Are you sure? You look really pale.” 

“I’m all good, really. Probably just too much to drink on an empty stomach.” You promised, offering him a convincing smile. Right now you could barely see him, your vision swimming. You needed to get the amulet on as quickly as possible, the pain would only get worse the longer you delayed. 

But right now Sukuna seemed thoroughly unconvinced, red eyes focussing on the way you were trembling, barely containing the agony you were in. “If you want I-” 

“I’m just gonna head home.” You cut him off, the ringing in your ears growing to an unbearable level. You were doing your best to play it off like you were fine, even if you wanted to start tearing at your skin in discomfort. 

Your actions here were two-fold. Not only did you not want him to know that you were secretly the city’s hero, you also didn’t want him to think you were a total weirdo when he’d just been flirting with you. 

It would be nice to go on a date and you didn’t want to ruin your chances. 

He frowned at you, staring down at you with an unreadable expression before relenting with a heavy sigh. 

“Get home safe. I’ll catch you later.” 

—

By the time you broke free from Sukuna, the pain had grown to an almost unmanageable intensity. You made your way back into the party and stumbled into a stairwell, transforming immediately. It was only then that you were able to catch your breath properly, the searing agony in your head ebbing ever so slightly. 

The monster was in this building - that much was clear. 

Your body was essentially a compass to hone in on the beasts, always knowing just where you needed to go to find one. And this monster in particular seemed to be a few floors up. Thank god it hadn’t shown up in the centre of the actual party. 

That would’ve been a nightmare for you in your real life. 

By the time you made it up to the right part of the building, you found that the place was mostly deserted. The party was being held in the function room of a fancy hotel, and this floor seemed to be exclusively guest rooms. But based on the construction equipment and overwhelming silence, it didn’t seem like it was currently open to the public. 

That was a relief - it would make your job significantly easier. You could keep things quiet. 

Keeping your guard up, you moved through each room slowly, eager to keep any monsters unaware of your presence. You found yourself blessing your own luck as you rounded a corner to see the star of tonight’s show. It was a large, green, pig-like beast, sitting down on the floor of a guest room, gorging itself on a tray of food. 

The monster’s back was to you, completely unaware of any threat - just as you’d like it to be. 

You struck with elite precision, darting forward and striking your blade straight through the wretched thing's neck, wishing you could cover your ears with the way that it squealed desperately, writhing at the oozing wound. 

Over the years you’d learned your craft well, and you gave him no opportunity to recover. A burst of light emitted from your weapon, sending a shockwave through the creature’s body, sending it slumping to the ground. Its cries continued for a few seconds longer before it turned to dust beneath you. 

Deciding not to let your guard down just yet, you moved past the pile of dust to search the rest of the floor, frowning when you discovered no other monsters. There were plenty of times when your job was easy, but this one felt almost suspiciously so - especially considering how strong the pain in your head had been. 

Usually the feeling corresponded to the strength of the monster, and this guy was nothing special. 

But who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? It was pointless to go out looking for trouble. If the universe wanted to throw you a bone, then so be it. 

Unfortunately, all of your hopes surrounding an easy night were quickly shattered when you were tackled down to the floor. 

A gasp fell from your lips at the sheer weight pinning you down, a massive hand wrapping around both of your wrists, pinning your arms up above your head. Panic gripped your throat at the realisation that you were trapped, the fear only growing as you stared up at the assailant, coming face to face with a hulking figure.

You’d thought it was a monster at first, another one of those pigs. 

The reality was much worse. 

Those eyes, the four eyes that had crept into your nightmares for weeks, were staring back at you evenly. 

All you could think about was how much bigger he was in person, his massive frame dwarfing yours as he settled his weight down on you. Even in this close proximity you still couldn’t see him properly, with a black hood thrown over his head, and a dark mask covering the lower half of his face. 

All you could make out were those shining eyes, which seemed so much more intense in person - a much deeper shade of red. You realised quickly at this new angle of him that his eyes were odd, with two of them sitting at a raised point on his face, as if the skin beneath them had been distorted and twisted. 

“You got here quicker than I expected.” His tone was clearly mocking, but all you could focus on was the way that his voice sounded a little odd, as if he was still using some sort of voice modifier. 

Did his real voice sound stupid or something? Was it an insecurity that he didn’t want you to mock?

It was apparent that he was waiting for a reply, but you offered him nothing, glancing up at where your sword had fallen from your grasp, just out of reach of your pinned hands. His eyes flicked over to the weapon, letting out a sigh as he swiped it away with one of his arms. 

One of his four terrifyingly big arms. 

“You won’t be needing that. I’m just here for a short visit.” 

He leant forward, a free hand moving to your chin, cupping it almost tenderly as he forced you to gaze up at him. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath through his mask fanning softly against your face. 

“Did you like my video?” 

“Haven’t seen it.” 

“Liar.” 

You tried not to tremble as his nose brushed softly against yours, a gesture that felt the furthest thing from romantic as fear built up in your chest. You struggled desperately against his hands, confused at the oddly exhausted nature of your body, like your power was being sucked from you with every passing second. 

“Saw you reacting to it live. Just a hoax, huh? How do you like me in the flesh?” 

Breathing steadily, you worked hard to centre yourself, to ignore the things he was saying. You could feel your power swirling manically in your chest - you’d never been good at channeling it without your sword in hand, but for now you’d just have to figure it out. 

“I meant it, you know. I’ll put you in your place.” 

One of his fingers trailed softly along your cheek, revulsion prickling at your sensitive skin. But you stayed focused all the same. For this to work you had to be calm, there was no point in panicking, it would just put you in a worse position. 

“Consider this a greeting. I know that I can’t kill you right now, you’re annoying like that, because of this damn thing.” His hand moved to your amulet, playing with it for a second before dropping it back down against your bare skin. 

You knew that it had burnt him. That was what the piece of jewelry did to anyone who wasn’t you. But he did a good job of concealing any pain that he was in, simply drawing back his hand and continuing with his little speech. 

“But I’ll do it. Step by step, I’ll unpick your whole life. I’ll weaken you, I’ll reveal your identity, I’ll unleash hell upon the city you love, and then I’ll kill you. And it’ll be beautiful. Imagine a world without you in it.” 

Weaken you? Reveal your identity? A shiver passed through you at the idea of him having a way to do such a thing. He shouldn’t know anything about you or the way that your powers worked. There was no way for him to know. 

And yet he sounded so certain.

Either way, you weren’t going to give him the chance.

The power that you’d been gathering felt tangible now, heat building up in your arms and chest, burning your skin, desperate to escape. It wouldn’t be controlled, perhaps it would even damage you, but you weren’t taking any chances. 

With a raspy cry, you released the energy, your power emitting from your body as a blinding white light, one that had you squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep your vision intact. By the time the light disappeared, the villain’s weight had left your body. 

For a few hopeful seconds you wondered if he’d been obliterated into dust. Until you noticed him standing on the other side of the room, his eyes narrowed with displeasure, two of his arms missing and dripping with blood. 

“See? This is why I fucking hate you.” He hissed. 

Closing his eyes for a second he took a deep breath, and in an instant his missing arms regenerated, as if they’d never been gone in the first place. It was a little daunting, because even though you had regenerative properties as a magical girl, they functioned at nowhere near the speed he’d just displayed. 

“I’ll get you back for that. I’ll get you back for everything.”

What the hell did that mean? It wasn’t like you knew this guy. 

Right?

“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me but I’m not going anywhere.” You said firmly.

No matter what, you weren’t about to let yourself be pushed around - you weren’t that pathetic. It was clear that he didn’t have the power to kill you yet, which meant you probably had the power to defeat him. 

There was no way that you’d let him get in your head or intimidate you. 

He chuckled, his whole body shaking with laughter as he fixed his gaze on you. “It's cute that you think so, but I’ll make you eat those words. See you soon.”