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kingkonoha · 15 hours
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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈
⎯⎯ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⎯⎯
♡ — 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄
♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After what happened to you & your son, Satoru couldn’t stop drinking . . .
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: dark content, fem reader, canonverse, amnesia, mentions of death, suicide ideation, violence, mentions of food, drinking, gojo not eating. mention of gojo’s son & the reader struggling with their disabilities. reader wears dress/heels/perfume.
♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 11K
♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Hi everyone, thanks for being patient with me! I doubt many of you remember this story and were waiting for a continuation, but I hope everyone who reads this enjoys this series coming to an end, and thank you for the kind comments on the last part.
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— MONTHS BEFORE THE REUNION —
“I’m going to throw myself off of a building today,” Satoru Gojo thought as he glared down at his uneaten dinner, sitting alone in the booth of a restaurant called Jeezers, a blue and yellow themed sandwich place that hadn’t seen a spec of cosmetic work since the 90’s.
And it wasn’t a drunken idea; there wasn’t any alcoholic beverage that he could blame the unwanted thought on.
But, could he truly call such a thought unwanted?
His body didn’t flinch when the dark image of his planned suicide entered his mind. He didn’t try to push the negative emotion away, tell himself to snap out of it, or immediately try to think of happy things.
Instead, he thought about how he would do it, where he would go, and when.
But, due to his great power, jumping off a roof wouldn’t kill him — what would?
“Do I have to chop off my own head? Is that the only way?” he thought.
Satoru shoved his unappetizing sub sandwich away. The sandwich itself was rather delicious. The employee wasn’t skimpy when it came to the toppings, and for only five bucks, he also was able to get a refillable soda with it.
But the white-haired man didn’t want food.
He wanted his wife and son to come back to life. Or, he wanted alcohol. And to die.
The glass entrance doors chimed as a person walked through them. The generous sandwich maker — and cashier, as the restaurant was understaffed — greeted the hungry customer who casually strolled toward the counter.
“Welcome in!” The young woman said.
“Thanks,” the customer replied.
And, when Satoru heard that voice — as he didn’t bother to look up and see who entered the restaurant — the former teacher sighed heavily.
The sound of footsteps approaching his lonely booth grew louder and louder. As the person came closer, their steps slowed down greatly as if they were approaching a wild animal, expecting it to lash out.
“Gojo?” The call of his name came from his student — a former student — Yuji Itadori. He hadn’t heard his voice in a long time. It sounded a bit deeper, but he still recognized it.
Satoru looked up. Unsurprisingly, Megumi was with Itadori as well, and Gojo’s eyes flickered over to the boy he practically raised himself.
Satoru didn’t bother with faking a smile, nor an overly enthusiastic greeting — one with a touch of a humorous tone — that would capture the personality of the great Satoru Gojo they once knew.
He wasn’t that person anymore. And, now, he didn’t even have the strength to pretend to be.
“Hey,” Satoru mumbled sadly.
At least he was sober right now. If his students had caught him tripping over his own feet, tears falling from his blue eyes as strong alcohol coated his breath, he would never forgive himself.
Much to the depressed man’s dismay, the two sorcerers slid into the other side of the booth.
“We haven’t seen you in a while,” Itadori said, his voice heavy with worry, but kindness as well. “How . . . have you been?”
Satoru took a moment to truly look at them. They were older. When he had last seen them, they were simply young teenagers, but now, their jawlines had sharpened a bit more. Their voices were slightly deeper. They had grown a couple of inches. Megumi was starting to look more and more like his father, while Yuji — who wore his hair pushed back now — started to resemble Sukuna.
Satoru clenched his fist unintentionally.
Sukuna’s finger destroyed his family.
That’s what the higher-ups told him.
Years ago, Satoru could easily tell the difference between Sukuna and Yuji, markings aside. But, now, it was like he was staring right at the King of Curses.
The only difference was that Yuji’s eyes were filled with kindness and concern, not pure evil.
“It’s not him. It’s Yuji. It’s just Yuji. It’s not him. It’s not him,” Satoru repeated in his chaotic mind.
Looking over at Toji — no, it was Megumi — did him no favors, either.
It felt as if Satoru was staring right at his two greatest enemies.
“It’s been a few years,” Megumi blinked, his face solemn. “We didn’t know if they ever locked you up for that little killing spree of yours.”
The dark-haired sorcerer glared at Satoru with eyes that begged for answers, and Satoru could easily tell that he wanted to ask him about the infamous killing spree since the day someone undoubtedly told him the horrific news.
“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Satoru clarified. He fidgeted with the paper wrapping of his untouched sandwich. “I was targeting curses.”
“Yeah?” A frown appeared across Megumi’s face. “But you were clumsy, and you hurt a lot of regular people too.”
“Leave him alone, Fushiguro,” Yuji glanced down at Satoru’s sandwich.
The uneaten dinner, along with the plain misery written all over his face, made it utterly obvious that the sad man was suffering enough.
Suddenly, the welcome bell chimed again as someone entered the restaurant. A pair of shoes clicked against the tile as they approached the counter before halting abruptly. There was a brief pause before their footsteps picked up once again, quicker this time as they changed their direction and made their way over to Satoru's booth.
“Gojo,” The young woman said with shock, as both a question and a statement.
Satoru looked up to see Nobara. Her ginger-brown hair was longer, falling past her shoulders, but not yet reaching her mid-back. She wore an eyepatch over her left eye.
She slid into the booth, sitting beside Satoru, who hesitantly scooted over.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” she looked at him. “How are you? I could kick your butt for leaving us behind, ya know.”
She smiled sadly as she spoke, her tone soft and humorous despite her words.
“I’m sorry.” Satoru’s leg started to shake.
“It’s okay,” Nobara glanced down at Satoru’s sandwich as well. “I get it. I’m just teasing you.”
“So,” Yuji spoke cautiously, thinking over his words before he said them. “What do you do now? Do you live around here?”
The country music playing softly in the background filled the silence for a moment. His former students simply blinked at him, waiting for a response.
“You guys should go to the counter and order your food.” Satoru stared down at the table. “I think they’re closing soon.”
“Gojo . . .” Nobara frowned, her honey brown eye glistening with worry. “Why don’t you come back to the school with us tomorrow? Everyone would love to see you, and . . . maybe you could talk to the higher-ups about becoming a sorcerer again.”
“The world has gone straight to hell without you,” Megumi added, although truly, he knew it was pointless.
The man couldn’t find the strength to have a proper dinner. He definitely wasn’t in any shape to fight curses once again.
“No, but thanks for the offer.” Satoru managed to glance up at the three of them once again, but it pained him to do so. “It was good seeing all of you, though. I better head home now.”
“Already?” Yuji frowned. “C’mon, Gojo. Just talk to us. Please.”
“What’s there to talk about, Yuji?”
“There’s plenty to talk about!” Yuji raised his voice, speaking louder than he intended, but luckily, the restaurant was isolated for the most part aside from an adorable elderly couple sharing a meatball sub, and the cashier, who started to wipe down the sandwich building station.
“If you don’t wanna become a sorcerer again, fine, but we can still help you.” Megumi stared into Satoru’s eyes. The younger sorcerer was secretly more upset than he let on, but Satoru could see the brokenness reflected in Megumi’s eyes as he started to speak. “You won’t eat your sandwich for some reason, so I’m guessing you’re struggling to eat anything at all. You’re not drunk right now, and yet, you still smell like alcohol. I’m willing to bet that you’re not actually trying to get home right now but to that bar down the street. Am I wrong? Not to mention — you look miserable.”
The silence was deafening.
Nobara thought about kicking Megumi under the table, but she didn’t.
“That was rude, Fushiguro,” Yuji mumbled under his breath, looking down at the table as he did so.
“I know, and I’m sorry, I really am, but kindness isn’t going to help him.” Although he was speaking to Yuji, Megumi’s eyes never glanced away from Satoru.
Satoru stared at Megumi with an expression his old student couldn’t recognize. It sent a shiver up his spine.
“Let me out, Nobara,” Satoru mumbled.
The young woman hesitated, flickering her eye between Yuji and Megumi to see what they wanted her to do. But, she truly couldn’t keep him there. What good would that do?
Nobara scooted out of the booth.
“Gojo, please don’t leave, just talk to us, we care about you,” Yuji's plea fell on deaf ears as Satoru started to make his way out of the door.
“We know you miss your family, but this isn’t how you handle it. Don’t leave . . .”
Satoru tuned out the rest of Megumi’s words.
Both Megumi and Yuji started to get up from their seats and follow their former teacher out of the door, but Nobara stopped them.
The look of sadness on her face spoke for her. It told them that there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped.
The two sorcerers sat back down, and the three of them watched as Satoru left the restaurant and made his way down the street to the bar.
— TWO WEEKS AFTER THE REUNION —
SATURDAY
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Ren, happy birthday to you!”
Your boy smiled happily as he leaned over his five-layer chocolate chip cookie cake and blew out his candles. The guests attending his eleventh birthday party all applauded.
“Did you make a wish?” A young girl with dark hair in a ponytail asked.
“Yeah. I made the greatest wish ever.” Ren grinned at his crush from school, a bit embarrassed to tell her what his wish was.
After all, when he blew out the candles, he had hoped that someday, your memories of Satoru would return.
The white-haired man walked up to Ren with a wide grin, wiping away his tears with his thumb. Satoru was wearing a colorful birthday hat, and he looked rather silly, but even so, he was excited to wear it.
“Are you ready to cut the cake?” Satoru grinned. “We can open presents after. How does that sound?”
“Sounds awesome,” Ren smiled back. “This is the coolest birthday I’ve ever had!”
Truth be told, he already had the number one thing he wanted. A dad.
But seeing the enormous pile of gifts in the corner of the venue was insanely cool as well.
The bright smile spreading across your son’s face made you grin too as you watched him interact with his father from a distance.
Satoru had planned Ren’s entire birthday party and didn’t hold back a single dollar when it came to making sure his boy had everything he wanted, from the cake that he started to slice into, to any gift he could ever ask for.
After all, the last birthday Satoru attended was when his boy turned three.
After a day of bowling and arcade games with his friends from school, they all met up with the parents and other adult guests at a local venue.
Blue and black video game themed decorations coated the entire place. His favorite songs blared softly through speakers as everyone ate the food served buffet-style and socialized with one another. During that time, Ren had met several unfamiliar people, such as his dad’s former students.
It might have been Ren’s birthday, but Satoru was just as happy. If the birthday hat wasn’t an obvious sign, then the constant photo-taking was. Every second, he was snapping a picture of his boy. He wanted to take a picture of you too, but he couldn’t build up the courage to ask.
From a short distance away, Satoru stared at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, watching as you chatted with Kento and Yuji.
He wished that he could say that the drinking had stopped once he found you again, that he no longer knew misery once you reentered his life, but that wasn’t true.
He was happy that you and Ren were alive, of course, but you didn’t remember him. And, if you didn’t remember him, then you didn’t love him anymore.
That hurt like hell.
His grief didn’t fade away, it only shifted focus.
But, even so, this was the happiest he had ever been since the great incident, and he managed to go five days without having any sort of alcohol as well.
About five minutes had passed before the conversation between you, Kento, and Yuji had ended. Satoru took that opportunity to approach you with a slice of cookie cake in hand, and with every step, his knees threatened to wobble. Hands almost started to shake.
He was nervous.
In that moment, he felt like his former teenage self who — despite his overly cocky attitude — had to spend months building up the courage to ask you out on a date.
It was the same thing all over again; he was trying to earn your affection.
Because if you couldn’t remember Satoru, then he’d simply have to win your heart all over again.
“Hey,” Satoru greeted, extending his arm as he handed you the paper plate with a slice of cake on it. “I had to fight three kids to get it, but I grabbed you a piece.”
With a soft laugh — one that Satoru missed hearing more than he could ever express — you took the plate from him.
“Thank you.” Grabbing the plastic fork, you took a bite. “And not just for the cake, but for helping out with the entire party. It means a lot.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Smiling shyly, Satoru put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve always spoiled him. I just can’t believe I have the chance to do it again.”
“That reminds me . . .” Suddenly, you turned around and sat the plate of cake down on a nearby table, and faced Satoru once again. “We haven’t had the time to talk about everything, and I’d really like to.”
You and Satoru both sat down at the round table, chairs turned to face one another.
For the past two weeks, conversation between you and him had amounted to nothing more than a few text messages being exchanged, all regarding Ren’s party.
After all, your boy was the only thing you both still had in common. Shared experiences and sweet memories no longer existed, and it wasn’t easy for you to get over your guilt, and for him to get over his heartbreak.
It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t remember him — obviously. But, even so, the sight of his suffering — even though he tried his best to hide it — made a lump form in your throat whenever you thought about the pain your absence had brought. And your return did little to mend it, thanks to your amnesia. It only brought another form of suffering.
“Noa-I mean, Ren . . . has really adapted to his new life pretty well,” you smiled a bit. “Well, his old life, which is now his new life, or . . . you know what I’m trying to say. I heard him call your friend Uncle Kento earlier.”
“I heard that too. Kento couldn’t stop smiling, and he never smiles.”
A beat of silence passed. Even now, while you were both trying to focus on yourselves — on your own relationship with each other — You noticed that Ren was the main topic of the conversation.
“Ren was worried that you wouldn’t like him. Did you know that?”
“What?” Satoru frowned. “Why?”
“His limp,” you said. “He thought that you would be disappointed. He assumed that any father figure that would possibly appear would be upset to have a disabled son, and discovering that his dad was a sorcerer, and the strongest sorcerer at that, well, it just made him worry.”
“He doesn’t have to worry about that. I think he’s perfect.” Satoru glanced down at the floor, smiling to himself softly as he thought about his boy. But, then, he came to the same realization that you did earlier: Ren was the main focus of the conversation yet again.
“We should talk about ourselves, though.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Clearing your throat rather awkwardly, you pointlessly shifted in your seat. You waited for Satoru to say something — anything to kick the sensitive conversation off. He broke his staring contest with the floor and looked into your visible eye.
But he didn’t say anything.
His eyes darted away from yours, and then a second later, he made eye contact yet again.
And, somehow, you knew exactly what that look meant. You couldn’t pinpoint how you knew, not exactly, but you did.
The way he stared at you, looked away, and then glanced back at you . . . it was familiar.
“What’s wrong? I know that look.” You frowned a bit. “You look like you wanna ask me something.”
Satoru smiled sadly.
“How do you remember Ren, but you don’t remember me? We were a family. I was away a lot, but . . .”
The unreasonable guilt gnawed at your insides. You shifted in your seat again.
“I only remember Ren because he was with me every single day after the incident. After some time, old memories with him started to come back.”
“What about memories of the three of us?”
“Sometimes, I can remember another person being there, and I can remember feeling loved and cared for, but I can’t picture a face or remember a voice. It really sucks, and I’m sorry. I just don’t remember you, Satoru.”
Your last sentence snapped his heart into pieces — what wasn’t already shattered, at least.
As you could see the pain reflected in his eyes, you sat up a bit, and tried to make the situation a little bit less heartbreaking as you said, “but I could, eventually. Being around Ren is what jogged my memory of him, so, maybe, in time, being around you will do the same. And I’m willing to make new memories as well, you know what I mean?”
Satoru made a facial expression that you couldn’t recognize. His face was as blank as a fresh canvas.
“All that matters is that you’re both still alive,” he lied, giving a fake smile. “I’m starting to become okay with getting to know you all over again. It’s better than thinking you were dead.”
It wasn’t okay. Not in the slightest. He wanted his wife to remember him. He didn’t want to start his relationship over, as if you were both strangers, under the pressure to recapture a love that was now lost.
“Why would the higher-ups do something like that?” You suddenly asked. “Why would they lie to both of us?”
“I can think of plenty of reasons. But I’ll deal with them later.” Satoru clenched and unclenched his fist. He planned on handling those god-forsaken higher-ups soon enough, but right now, his family was his top priority.
Once again, Satoru made that familiar face. The face that told you he wanted to ask you something.
“What is it?” You questioned, tilting your head just a bit.
Suddenly, Satoru’s hands were sweaty, just like they were when he was a seventeen-year-old lovesick high schooler.
“Do you wanna go out with me? On a date?”
A bright smile spread across your face. You didn’t know it, but it was the same smile you gave him all those years ago when he asked the first time.
“I’d love to.”
Two hours later, Ren’s birthday party came to an end. He was certain that come Monday, his legendary event would be the hot topic at school.
That night, after tucking your son in and kissing him goodnight — although he playfully insisted that he was too old now to be treated like a baby — you left his bedroom and walked into your own, collapsing on your bed with a sigh.
You gave yourself about ten minutes to rest before getting back up to wash a couple of dishes, take a shower, and brush your teeth. And, as you got ready to go to bed, you only thought about one thing: your date with Satoru.
— WEDNESDAY —
Chicken stir fry and fresh vegetables sizzled in the hot skillet on the stove, the tantalizing aroma traveling throughout your cozy two-bedroom apartment. A short distance away, you could hear Ren playing video games in the living room, chatting with someone through his headset.
“We got second place! Good job — even though I had to protect you the entire time,” Ren paused, laughing softly as whoever was on the other end of the headset spoke.
“What? This is the third duo match where you got eliminated before I did. You can kill curses, but you can’t aim?” Ren laughed once again.
You found yourself curious about who your son was talking to. He certainly wasn’t friends with any sorcerers.
Giving your meal one quick stir, you turned the stove heat down to low.
“I gotta go, I think dinner’s almost ready,” Ren said. “Thanks for playing with me. I know you’re really busy, so . . . thanks. Bye.”
Ren took off his headset and turned off his PlayStation 5 — a sleek, white, and big console that Satoru had bought him for his birthday.
As you stepped into the living room, your son smiled up at you.
“Hey Mom,” he laid his dark blue controller on the couch cushion. “This game system is awesome. It’s digital too, so I don’t have to buy physical copies of games anymore.”
“Yeah, I saw that in the directions. That seems pretty cool, huh?” You grinned softly. “Who were you playing with just now?”
“Yuji,” Ren paused. “He likes video games too. We were playing Fortnite. He said I used to always try to take his phone and play games on it when I was a toddler.”
“Oh, really? That doesn’t surprise me.” Raising your eyebrows in surprise, your smile widened. “It was nice of him to play with you, though.”
For the college-aged sorcerer to take time out of his seemingly busy schedule to play video games with your son was kind of him.
“Dinner’s ready. Put your controller away and go wash your hands,” you said.
“Yes ma’am.”
A few minutes later, you and your son were sitting at the small dining table, eating dinner together as he rambled on adorably about his day at school.
“I have about a week or two to finish my science project, but Mrs. Willows paired me up with Mae.” Ren took a bite of his egg roll as he spoke.
“Is something wrong with that? Mae’s lovely. She’s your crush, isn’t she? This could be a great chance to get to know her.” You thought about the way your son blushed as he chatted with the young girl at his birthday party.
You took a sip of your water and noticed that Ren didn’t respond. In fact, he frowned and placed his bitten egg roll back on his plate.
You knew what was wrong without asking.
Aside from the fact that he didn’t want to discuss the topic of crushes and romance with his mother, he was also incredibly insecure. Mae was always kind to him — that much was true. But, at his age, girls often went for the boys who excelled in P.E. class, not the ones who had a limp and couldn’t keep up with the physically demanding sports.
If only he could be more like his father, and his father’s old students — that is what he must have been thinking.
Not only were they strong and powerful, but they went to a school created specifically for sorcerers.
He should have been preparing to attend Jujutsu High in a few years.
He should have been getting trained by his dad to fight curses and save lives.
That’s what he thought.
“I wish I could become a sorcerer,” he mumbled.
“Interesting thought,” your fork gently scraped against your plate as you stirred your food around. “Why do you want to be a sorcerer?”
“So I can fight curses and stuff like Dad used to do.” Ren paused. “You used to be one too.”
“And the fact that I can’t remember that is exactly why you shouldn’t want to be a sorcerer, honey. It’s too dangerous. Your dad quit for a reason.”
“Okay, okay . . . you don’t gotta talk me out of it. I couldn’t become one anyway.” Ren stared down at his plate. “I was just saying it would be kinda awesome to be special like everyone else. Even you’re special.”
You frowned sadly. Seeing your boy’s eyes glisten with sadness as the corners of his lips fell into a frown was simply too much. The sight of it broke your heart.
“Ren, you are special.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”
“No, I’m not.” You stared at the eleven-year-old, trying your hardest to hide how much it hurt to listen to your child’s opinion of himself — both what he expressed through words, and what you knew he was thinking. “You don’t need to be a sorcerer to be special. You don’t need to be great at sports, either. You’re incredibly smart — and I know that because I see your report card — and more importantly, you’re kind too. Not many human beings are as good of a person as you are. Do you know how special you have to be to live in a cruel world like this, and only want to help others? And you’re loved too. Everyone who showed up to your birthday party was there because they adore you, and they don’t care if you have a limp or if you’re not playing sports or killing curses.”
You leaned over, ruffling your son’s head of white hair. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you, do you hear me? I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else sees you. The way I see you.”
Ren smiled softly.
He couldn’t deny that he was loved. The amount of presents he had received for his birthday — which you both struggled to carry into the apartment — was a telltale sign of that. The amount of hugs from teary-eyed strangers who were relieved that he was alive also confirmed that fact.
His friends had also treated him like family.
As he thought about all of it, picking up his fork and gathering a bite of food, he figured that, perhaps, he was worth loving.
“Oh, by the way,” you suddenly spoke up. “I’m closing the coffee shop at three tomorrow, so you don’t go there after school. You can go to your dad’s house if he isn’t busy, or maybe Avery’s. Unless you wanna take the school bus and come home. Up to you.”
“Why?” Ren blinked curiously, but he couldn’t hide his excited grin over potentially getting to see his dad again. Sorry, Avery.
“I have a couple of errands to run. Shopping. Hair appointment. Stuff like that.”
“What for?”
This time, you were the one who couldn’t hide your smile. You took another sip of your water, and calmly — despite the way your heart raced — you said, “I have a date with your dad this weekend, so I need to get ready.”
Both Ren’s smile and eyes widened with unspeakable joy.
While he was overflowing with excitement over his parents going out together, you were filled with nervousness over your upcoming date.
— SATURDAY —
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Satoru Gojo could barely move.
His limbs were unspeakably heavy as if his bones were made out of pure stone.
The bedroom light was too bright. His eyes squinted, but it did nothing to stop his pounding headache.
Kento’s footsteps back and forth from his closet to his dresser — attempting to put together a nice outfit — were too loud.
But Satoru’s negative thoughts were even louder.
“I can’t do this, Nanami.”
Kento stopped walking. He turned his head to face Satoru, frowning.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Trying to get her to fall in love with me. It’s like we’re seventeen years old again, going on our first date. I can’t do it.” The poor man wanted to cry, a lump forming his throat that made it difficult to speak.
“Would you prefer the alternative? Getting drunk in a bar, thinking she’s dead?” Kento grimaced over his own harsh words, thinking that he might have been too harsh. With a sigh, he stepped closer to Satoru’s bed. “Listen, I know it sucks, but at least you’re getting a second chance. Your family came back, Satoru. They came back. And she might not remember you, but at least she’s willing to make new memories. I don’t understand why you’re so nervous.”
“She’s not the same person that she was before the accident, and I’m not the same person either.”
Walking over to the center of the room, the blonde-haired man laid Satoru’s shirt across the ironing board as he listened to the sad guy speak.
“Well, I don’t think you should be worried about that,” Kento said in response as he ran the hot iron over the shirt, smoothing out every wrinkle. “She knows that everything you’ve done, and who you’ve become, was just a result of thinking you lost your family. The Y/N I know would never judge anyone for being depressed over something like that — and she hasn’t changed that much.”
“But I was more than just depressed.” Satoru looked up at Kento as he spoke. “I hurt innocent people. I spent the last seven years of my life in a bar, and all I want right now is a drink. And you’re right, she wouldn’t judge me. But that doesn’t mean she’d want to be with me, either. I just want a drink, just one goddamn drink.”
The sound of gentle steam being released from the iron and the swooshing noise it made as it went across Satoru’s fancy shirt was what filled the silence.
And, during that silence, Kento stared at Satoru with an unreadable facial expression, one that sent a chill up Satoru’s spine.
His best friend was always so intimidating.
“So that’s it, huh?” Kento suddenly spoke. “You got your family back, but you’re still going to drink yourself to death because it didn’t turn out exactly how you wanted it to?”
“You don’t know how it feels to be forgotten by your soulmate.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But I know it’s better than your soulmate being dead. I said it once, and I’ll say it again: you’re getting a second chance. Most people would kill to have their family come back, even if the love of their life had amnesia and their child couldn’t remember them either. And you’re going to throw it all away because-”
“Nanami, she doesn’t know me.” Satoru’s voice quivered. He stared into Kento’s eyes with a glassy, tearful gaze. Unbeknownst to him, he started to dig his nails into his palm hard to hurt himself. Hard enough to draw blood. “She doesn’t remember anything about me. She looks at me like I’m a stranger. Not only that, but all the pain I went through for all of those years was for . . . for nothing because she was alive this entire time and I had no idea. How can you say I got my family back when they don’t remember us ever being a family?”
Kento turned off the iron.
He approached Satoru, kneeled in front of him, and placed his scarred hand over Satoru’s — a hand that was only so scarred from having to pick up more outrageous missions due to Satoru’s absence from the sorcerer world.
“So, let’s say she did remember you, Satoru. What then?”
“What do you mean?”
“What would you have done if she did remember you? Because if I recall, your relationship wasn’t perfect. You were away a lot, and it broke her heart. If she could remember that, then you’d still be in a similar position to the one you’re in now, because either way, your relationship needs some serious work. Do you really want her to remember how long she had to wait each day for you to return home from your work trips? The special events and holidays you missed? Right now, you have a chance to start over. And, who knows? Starting your relationship over might turn out to be easier than trying to repair it ever would have.”
When Kento finished speaking, Satoru looked sad.
Heartbreakingly upset.
The sight of his frowning face and teary eyes made Kento’s heart ache. He was brutally honest, but even so, he spoke to his friend softly. With love and care.
But maybe he was still being a bit too cruel.
“Hey . . .” Kento softened his voice even more and tried to make Satoru look him in the eye, but Satoru avoided his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, and you weren’t a bad husband, just a busy one. You had a lot of responsibilities and I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty about that. I’m sorry, Satoru. This is supposed to be a good day.”
Satoru nodded as a way of saying, “It’s okay.”
Kento sighed.
Standing up, he made his way towards Satoru’s bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it.
Then, he returned to his previous kneeled position in front of him. Gently, he dabbed the fresh scars decorating Satoru’s palm.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” His sudden question broke the silence, but that silence returned rather quickly, as Kento didn’t respond.
Not immediately, at least.
He spent a solid thirty seconds trying to figure out what to way.
“It’s like I said earlier. She knows who you are now and what you’ve done, and that hasn’t deterred her away yet, has it? And for all we know, she could be worried about the same thing too. You’ve both changed, and that’s okay.”
Kento finished cleaning the little blood stains off of Satoru’s pale skin. He removed the towel, and kindly, he said, “Come on. Time to get ready.”
Your knee-length dress was red. It was tighter than the clothes you wore regularly, but not too revealing — the perfect balance of classy and sexy.
Your heels clicked against your floor as you stepped into the bathroom, checking out your hair and makeup one last time.
After spraying a bit of perfume on your wrists and collarbone, it was time to grab your coat and purse, leave your apartment, and meet Satoru at the nice Italian restaurant in town.
Living in a safe, walkable town had its perks, certainly. But with every step you took, you couldn’t help but wonder if Satoru was just as nervous as you.
The sheer panic you felt — it made you want to cancel.
After all, he was handsome. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, even if he was out of practice. He was the father to your boy. He had memories of you that he was looking to recapture or recreate — the pressure of it all didn’t help ease your misplaced guilt.
The incident wasn’t your fault, but even so, that familiar lump formed in your throat and couldn’t be swallowed down.
Your nerves didn’t begin to settle until you walked into the romantic, warmly, yet lowly lit restaurant and spotted Satoru.
When he smiled at you, it felt . . . familiar.
A wave of calmness washed over you, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
As you made your way to your table — Satoru getting up to pull out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was — you were feeling relaxed.
You couldn’t recall any specific memory, but somehow, you remembered that you had done this a hundred times with him.
Dinner began with a complimentary bread basket and nervous compliments being exchanged.
Five minutes in, you smiled softly at your lost lover.
“So, what was our very first date like when we were younger?”
Your question made Satoru smile too. He took a sip of his water, glancing at the white tablecloth as his mind wondered back to the sweet, cherished memory.
“It was similar to this, kinda. We had dinner together. It was an Italian restaurant as well, but it wasn’t nearly as nice. You, uh, you wore red then too. I remember you saying that you wanted Alfredo, but you ordered spaghetti in case you spilled it on your clothes.”
The look of love in his eyes as he spoke about the past made your heart skip a beat.
“Oh, I get it,” you nodded slowly. “Red sauce would blend in with the red clothes. Seems like something I’d say. I can’t believe you can remember something like that.”
“What’s funny is that I was the one who ended up spilling something,” Satoru paused. “I knocked over the bread basket when I was reaching for my drink.”
“Really?“ leaning forward a bit, your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. “For a guy with the four-eyes thing, you’re pretty clumsy.”
“Six Eyes, and I’m not that clumsy. I was just nervous. Even now, years later, you still make me nervous.”
You leaned back in your seat. Your eye glistened with a peculiar kind of sadness — an expression that Satoru didn’t recognize.
“No need to be nervous,” slowly, your beautiful smile faded away. “I’m down one finger and an eye, and this facial scar isn’t doing me any favors. I’m not worth all the effort and worry.”
Satoru stared at you.
A look of insecurity. That was your unfamiliar expression.
He furrowed his brows, the corners of his mouth drawn downward as he put his laminated menu on the table.
“You decided to quit being a sorcerer the minute you found out that you were pregnant with Ren, but before that, you and I went on a mission together to exercise some curses inside of a mall. It wasn’t an easy mission either. I was exhausted, and you were injured. A curse was about to attack you — you had your back turned, trying to treat a civilian’s wound — and I jumped in the way to save your life.” Satoru started to fiddle with the cloth napkin lying next to his menu. “I was fine. I killed the curse. But you were angry with me for getting in harm’s way. You said to me then what you just said now — that you aren’t worth the effort and worry. And that’s not true at all. You’re worth everything to me.”
“You saved my life once?” The sad gaze in your eye softened into a look of pure admiration. “That’s so . . . I mean . . . until recently, my entire life has revolved around my son and my coffee shop. And then you appeared, along with these old friends I can’t remember having, and now I’m always hearing wild stories about me fighting curses and being madly in love with you. It’s crazy.”
You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe another human being loved you this much, in such a romantic way.
The waitress appeared — a kind woman with red hair who jotted down your orders in a tiny notepad. You ordered pasta, and Satoru couldn’t help but smile.
Certain aspects of you have changed forever, but some things still stayed the same.
Once the waitress walked away with your noted order of fettuccine alfredo and his order of ravioli, you shifted in your seat, sighing softly.
“I have another question, and I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while.” Cluelessly, you blinked at Satoru. “What was our marriage like?”
Satoru’s blue eyes shifted away from yours. Truth be told, he considered lying for a moment.
“It was perfect. We were perfect,” he would have said. “I was always there, and we were always happy.”
He could see the satisfied grin on your face now.
But he couldn’t lie to you. If he won your heart back with a string of lies, he would never forgive himself.
The honest truth wasn’t the perfect fairytale love story that you both would have hoped for, but it was good enough, as what really mattered — what was undoubtedly the most important thing — was that you both loved each other deeply.
“We were pretty young when we got married,” Satoru started, staring at you. “We were young when we did everything, actually. Not just getting married, but moving in together and starting a family too. All we knew was that we wanted to be together. We had movie and dinner nights every other Saturday, but it was hard being a husband, father, and sorcerer. I was away often, and you were always worried about whether or not I’d make it home. You wanted me to quit, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t think anything bad would ever happen to me, and I needed to protect non-sorcerers and mentor my students. It got to a point where I started to miss important events, and you weren’t happy with me. I wasn’t happy with myself either. My very last mission was a few weeks before Christmas. You begged me not to go because you said you had a terrible feeling about it. I just thought that you wanted me to stay home for our holiday traditions. We got into a big argument that night, and I left anyway, telling you that I’d be home before Christmas Day. I felt horrible about it, so I finished up my mission quickly and came home about two weeks early to surprise you. That was when the incident happened.”
Your initial silence made Satoru worry. He looked at you, trying to read the look on your face — attempting to stare into your visible eye and take a peek inside of your brain and see what thoughts were circulating in there.
The quietness was deafening. It was almost worse than you saying that you were no longer interested in rekindling your love, because the silence provided no answers. No closure.
Satoru started to involuntarily shake his leg underneath the table. He so desperately wanted a drink.
“Oh. . .” You finally spoke up, but your empty words, ridden with disappointment, offered little relief.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru said softly, briefly staring down at his half-empty water, the dots of condensation among the glass dripping onto the white tablecloth. “I know it’s not . . . I’m probably not what you were hoping for, but I loved you more than anything. Please believe that.”
Suddenly, that soft smile that Satoru once fell in love with reappeared on your face. Reaching across the table, you grabbed ahold of his hand — the one that was fidgeting with the napkin. You ran your thumb across his fingers.
“Satoru, if there’s one thing that my condition has taught me, it’s that the past doesn’t matter as much as we think it does. I just wanted to know because of plain curiosity, okay? I’m interested in our future and the man you are now.”
This time, following a small sigh of relief, Satoru was the one who smiled. It was the grin that you once fell in love with, even if you couldn’t remember ever doing so.
The date was filled with soft laughter, delicious pasta, and heartwarming stories.
You and Satoru sat at the dining table long after your meals were eaten and paid for. As the hours flew by, other couples and families coming and going, you both didn’t leave until the employees started stacking chairs and mopping the floors.
Together, you both walked down the street of your cozy little town, grinning down at your shoes stepping on the fallen orange and brown leaves covering the sidewalk.
“So, where’s Ren? Is he at home or . . . ?” Satoru questioned.
“He’s sleeping over at his friend’s house.” You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “That reminds me. He came up with an idea the other night, and I wanted to run it by you.”
“What is it?”
“A family dinner,” you glanced up at Satoru. “Just us three, sitting around a table, all having a meal together. The whole domestic vibe. What do you think?”
“I’d love that.” With a smile, Satoru started to blush a little.
“Okay, great. I’m thinking seafood, maybe? Hm . . . I don’t know. Kinda don’t feel like dealing with an apartment that smells like shrimp and crab. You know what? I’ll just open a window and spray some Febreze, it’ll be fine. Seafood it is. You’re not allergic, are you?”
Listening to you ramble made Satoru’s heart pound rapidly. It made him want to kiss you and mourn your lost years. But he couldn’t let on the effect that you had on his mind, body, and soul, even if you knew how he felt.
He had to keep all of that inside and remind himself that to you, he wasn’t the love of your life, but a mere friend.
“I’m not allergic. I love seafood, or all kinds of food, really.” Satoru glanced up at the stars for a moment, thinking about how over the last few years, eating was a chore. He went from being a food lover to a man who had to be forced to eat. But now that you reappeared back into his life, so had his love of all things sweet, spicy, and savory.
You brought back the parts of him that were human.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Satoru suddenly spoke up.
“Of course.”
“Have you . . . had any other partners? Since the incident?”
Your shoulder gently bumped against his arm as you both walked. Based on the tone of his voice, he hadn’t asked you that question out of jealousy per se, but curiosity.
“A few, but nothing that lasted very long. Mostly fantasy-obsessed weirdos who just wanted to brag about dating someone who wears an eyepatch, like I’m a fictional character or a damn pirate or something. But, uh, what about you?”
Satoru laughed a bit, but not humorously.
“Nope. I could barely function like a normal human being, let alone be in a relationship.”
He didn’t mean to make that burden of guilt reappear.
Catching a glimpse of you staring at the ground, he opened his mouth to apologize, but you started to speak before he could do so.
“I hate knowing that I caused you so much pain. I should have done something. I should have never let the higher-ups force me to start a new life, or at least, I should have tried to figure out who Ren’s father was. I’m sorry.”
Satoru grabbed your hand. He didn’t think it through — didn’t pause to wonder if such a display of affection was okay, but you didn’t seem to mind. Your warm fingers curled around his.
He couldn’t wait to tell Kento about it.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Satoru stared at you, paying no mind to anything that might have been in front of his walking path. “I picked working for people who would destroy my life at any given chance over my own family. None of this would have happened if I had been home like I should’ve been. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
At this hour, all of the small, local businesses were closed, cute little brown buildings showcasing nothing but darkness when you glanced through their windows as you strolled by.
However, one place was still open.
It was the bar.
Walking past it, you held Satoru’s hand a little tighter.
The white-haired man couldn’t see it, but as he made his way by the entrance doors, the bartender could see his former customer walking by with a small, sober grin.
The bartender smiled to himself as he washed a glass.
He was incredibly happy for that man, and he hoped to never get another dollar from him again.
“So what happens now?” Your sudden question made Satoru hum in response and tilt his head a bit. Continuing, you asked, “Are you going to go back to being a sorcerer?”
“No,” Satoru shook his head. “I passed the torch on to my students a while ago, and I think they’ll be just fine.”
As you both unhappily arrived closer and closer to your apartment, a sad frown appeared on Satoru’s face. He didn’t want the date to end. He wanted to keep walking with you forever.
Letting you go with the promise of seeing you again soon never came easy after the incident.
Your footsteps clicked against the hard ground as you made your way to your front door. With a shy smile, you turned and faced the white-haired man.
“Thanks for walking me home. I’d invite you inside, but it’s getting late, and I have to head to my coffee shop in the morning. I was able to get a few bookshelves put in. Can you believe it?” Digging through your purse for your house keys, you smiled at Satoru. “I just gotta spend my Sunday actually putting books on the shelves now before we open on Monday. Boxes are sitting everywhere right now.”
“I’m happy for you,” Satoru said. He couldn’t help but wonder if this newfound passion for books, coffee, and entrepreneurship came after the incident, or if you were always interested in such things, and he never noticed.
He would have bought you a two-story bookstore and coffee shop years ago if that was the case. Was that always your dream and you kept it hidden from him? Why? Did it have anything to do with having to raise Ren and run the house while Satoru was off fighting curses and training his students?
He wanted to ask — and he almost did, his lips parting a bit — but he knew you wouldn’t remember. You wouldn’t have an answer.
“You should stop by sometime!” Your smile brightened. “Do you like coffee? You seem like the kinda guy who’d like something on the sweeter side . . . a mocha, maybe?”
Satoru couldn’t help but lovingly mimic your bright smile, his eyes flickering from your eye to your lips, and his heart skipped a beat.
Most people would assume that a guy like Satoru hated sweets. Back when he was a sorcerer, others figured that he avoided sweets and sugary things to keep himself as healthy as possible. Truthfully, though, he was the kind of person who would have dessert for every meal if he could. Both because it helped energize his overactive mind, and because he simply had a sweet tooth.
But you knew.
Was it something you remembered, or was it nothing more than a lucky guess?
Satoru couldn’t say. You couldn’t say.
However, no one could deny that your old personality was starting to return while in his presence. You had never known yourself to be the kind of person to ramble on and on, but here you were, spending your night talking so much that your jaw had started to ache.
After one proper evening together, the gorgeous man was bringing out a side of you that you had never known — or, perhaps, had forgotten.
“You could serve me a cup of toilet water and I’d drink it,” Satoru said with a gentle, brief chuckle. “But yeah, I have a sweet tooth.”
“So I was right.” You paused. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
The smile on his face faltered as uncertainty flooded his mind, as he didn’t know how to properly say goodbye. You held hands earlier, and you had hugged once before, but should he initiate one now? Should he shake your hand? No . . . too professional. The last thing he wanted was for your reblossoming relationship to amount to that of a business transaction.
He decided to play it safe. He mumbled a quick goodnight, gave you a soft smile, and started to walk away.
“Wait,” you called out.
With a little hum of confusion, his brows raising slightly, he turned and faced you.
Reaching up, your hands gripped his shoulder, pulling the taller man down a bit before planting a soft kiss on his cheek, which instantly reddened the second your lips came in contact with his soft skin.
“Goodnight,” you mumbled.
When your face was still a whisper away from his own, Satoru kissed your cheek back.
It was a subconscious act — as natural breathing. You’d kiss his cheek, and he’d kiss yours back.
“You used to kiss my cheek all the time.” He pulled away from you, blushing.
“Really?” You wrapped your fingers around your house key, turning towards your door briefly to place it in the lock. Looking back at him as you twisted it, you said, “That’s probably why I wanted to do it now. It just felt right, I guess. I don’t normally kiss my dates on the cheek.”
“Right, well,” Satoru, once again, started to walk away. “Goodnight.”
That night — after soaking in the bathtub and texting Satoru to make sure he got home safely, although you felt silly doing so, being that he was the most powerful man in the world — you rested your head against your pillow and started to drift off to sleep.
In that state, in which it felt as if your mind, body, and soul were stuck somewhere between falling asleep and staying awake, Satoru’s face appeared in your mind.
Only — he was younger.
He wore dark sunglasses, and a dorky smile, cheeks pink as he blushed . . .
“Y/N!” He called out, waving for you to come over and join him where he stood in a shady spot underneath a big tree.
As you approached him, the cocky teenager put his hands in the pockets of his school uniform, trying his hardest to seem cool and calm. But despite his best efforts, he was still a blushing mess.
“Hey,” you greeted politely, smiling up at your tall classmate. “Everything alright? I’m gonna be late for training.”
“Y-Yeah,” he awkwardly cleared his throat following his stutter — which made him wish that the ground would somehow open up and swallow him whole to ease his embarrassment. “I just . . . wanted to say hi. I’m sorry I didn’t call you after our date. Well, I did, but I hung up before you answered because I got nervous. Not-not that I normally get nervous or anything, I’m pretty chill, but it was late and I didn’t know if you wanted to talk, or if you’d think I was weird for calling you after we had just hung out. I’m not weird, I promise. I’m not as cocky as everyone says I am, either. I’m just a normal person. You’re not, though. I-I mean, you’re normal, but you’re really strong and pretty, you know what I mean? So, uh . . . yeah.”
An amused grin appeared on your face. Meanwhile, Satoru’s own face reddened even more with every shaky word he spoke. The gifted sorcerer couldn’t look you in the eye.
“You’re adorable,” you chuckled softly, watching as he fidgeted around, unable to stand still in your presence. “And it’s okay. You make me kinda nervous too.”
Your eye darted away from him. Satoru glanced down at your hand and saw that you were fiddling with the end of your sleeve.
“Do you wanna go out with me again?” Satoru’s words were rushed, rolling off of his tongue and falling from between his lips much quicker than he wanted.
“I’d love to.” Your sweet smile made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. Glancing down at your watch, you said, “I gotta go, but maybe we can have lunch together tomorrow. Diner down the street?”
“Okay, that’s cool,” Satoru couldn’t fight the urge to grin, his cheeks starting to burn. “I’ll see you later.”
You started to walk away, but suddenly, your footsteps came to a halt. Turning back around to face a puzzled Satoru, you approached him once again, motioned for him to lean down, and you planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Bye,” you grinned.
Satoru couldn’t speak. Your lips touching his red, blushy cheek had seized his ability to communicate like a normal human being. His body froze, his throat dried to a crisp, and his overactive mind was incapable of forming a coherent thought.
As he watched you start to walk away, eventually snapping out of his trance, he shouted, “Wait!”
The happy teenager leaned down and quickly kissed your cheek. Then, he ran off to locate his best friend, Suguru Geto, eager to tell the dark-haired boy about the heartwarming interaction he just had with the woman he was certain he’d marry someday.
— THURSDAY —
Less than a week has passed since your wonderful evening with Satoru. During that time, your coffee shop was now a fully operational bookstore as well. You and Satoru stayed in your shop well past closing hours, sipping on beverages and chatting. On Tuesday night, you, him, and Ren enjoyed seafood and board games.
It was wonderful.
Spending time with him often led to dreams when your eye fluttered shut and the moon was shining through your curtains.
However, the dreamlike images of that beautiful man didn’t feel like dreams at all.
And your therapist agreed.
She suggested that, perhaps, they were memories.
But there was only one way to truly differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t.
And that was by asking Satoru. Only he could tell you if the beautiful scenarios that appeared were missing pieces of a life you had forgotten.
That Thursday, the setting sun began to darken the baby blue sky, and faint stars appeared above the school in which a science fair was taking place.
In the big school gym, several students had their artistic projects on display for judges and parents to walk around and admire. Ren and Mae had created a presentation about power and electricity.
He looked so proud as he stood there, pointing at several different wires surrounded by Mae’s detailed drawings of lightning bolts, explaining the scientific process to curious guests.
However, what he was proud of more than anything was his mother and father, who stood behind the group of judges and parents and snapped pictures of him. The young boy would occasionally dart his eyes away from the crowd of strangers admiring his presentation and smile at his parents.
He had two of them.
A mother and a father.
Later on, as the judges gathered to discuss the winners of the science fair, Ren walked off to chat with his group of friends. While everyone had to create a project for a class grade, submitting it to the science fair was completely optional. Only true science-loving geniuses took it that far. Even so, Ren’s friends — the ones who attended his birthday party — all showed up to support him. They didn’t know a thing about science beyond what they could scribble on a ripped sheet of paper and hide under their sleeves during tests, but they knew one thing: they wanted to be there for your boy.
Approaching Satoru with a white paper cup of water, you smiled at him softly.
“Hey, do you have a minute? Can we talk outside?”
“Of course,” Satoru matched your smile with a grin of his own. Even if he was busy, he’d make time for you now. Always.
Walking through the see-through doors and stepping outside into the darkening surroundings was a nostalgic experience. It was an entirely different school, but hearing crickets chirp and seeing families walking home after their own events ended as the falling sun finished off another beautiful day reminded Satoru of your after-class walks from way back when.
He faced you with a look of curiosity.
“What’s up?”
“I was just wondering . . . do you remember what our second date might have been like?”
Satoru’s eyes darted up at the stars for a moment — he remembered, of course.
“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure I remember every date. Why?”
“Just curious,” you lied. The last thing you wanted to do was give him hope that your memory was returning, only for it to turn out to be nothing more than a pointless dream.
“We planned it right when we saw each other in person again after our first date. I was nervous and apologetic about not calling you the night before — either I was nervous or I forgot, I’m not sure — but we went to a nearby diner, one close to the school.”
You shifted your stance a bit, much too excited to stand completely still. Could it have been a coincidence?
“I think I might have remembered that.” As you spoke, Satoru’s eyes widened. “I had a dream — or I thought it was a dream, but it felt too real. We were standing outside of a school, wearing uniforms. We were both still so nervous around each other, but you were rambling a bunch, and . . . I’ve just been having a lot of similar dreams like that lately. To know that they actually might have been memories . . . I can’t believe it.”
“Wh-What else do you remember? What were the other dreams about?”
You went on to describe what you had seen.
Satoru’s eyes started to water as you recalled some of your shared memories. The stars appearing in the sky above seemed brighter.
Although you couldn’t remember everything, for now, it was enough.
“I know it’s not a lot, but those little memories are something I’ll hold onto forever. Some of them came back, and I don’t plan on letting them go anytime soon,” you said. “I might not remember our first kiss or every anniversary, but I’m starting to remember how it felt to love you.”
Satoru’s world stopped. It was a feeling similar to the day he first found you and Ren at that one grocery store.
It was a combination of shock and love running through his veins.
Satoru’s large hands cupped your cheeks. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.
Satoru lost you once. Then, you reappeared. However, kissing you softly, yet passionately in this moment is what led Satoru’s soul to believe that he had finally found you.
Your sweet lips moved against his with a familiar pattern one would only have while kissing their soulmate. Even if your mind had forgotten much, your soul knew. It just knew.
The entrance doors belonging to the school opened and closed. Parents were heading back inside after ending phone calls or smashing their cigarette butts because the awards ceremony was about to start according to their watches.
Sadly, you and Satoru had to pull away, breathlessly, though, and after reuniting for two or three more little kisses.
“I’m starting to get jealous of the old me who used to kiss you like that every day,” your beaming smile was too cute.
“No reason to be jealous, you can still do it every day if you want to,” Satoru’s face was only inches away from yours as he spoke.
“Well, come on, let’s go see if our boy won first place. We can talk about our new every day later,”you said, grabbing ahold of Satoru’s hand.
You led him back into the school, where Ren would later accept his first-place trophy.
As the three of you celebrated his victory — together, as it should be — being a family started to become your new every day.
— TWO YEARS LATER —
White dresses and fancy cakes were on your mind, the old, sweet memory of walking down the aisle, glancing up at your teary-eyed husband, had recently come back to you in great detail.
You could taste the classic vanilla cake flavor on your tongue. Smell the special cologne Satoru wore that day. Feel the swaying rhythm of the song played during your first dance.
Today, as you drove your thirteen-year-old to school with him in the passenger seat — the middle school was too far of a walk compared to the elementary school — you touched the knob of your radio and turned up the music a few notches.
“What song is this?” Ren questioned, listening to the unfamiliar ballad.
“I think it’s a song from my wedding. I’ll have to ask Satoru later.”
Ren smiled. Another potential memory was unlocked.
“I’m also hoping he can take you to get a haircut tomorrow because I gotta-”
“Whaaat? No, Mom, no haircut, okay?”
“Since when do you not like haircuts?” You made a swift right turn as you spoke.
Ren scratched the side of his white hair, feeling his growing strands.
“I’m trying to grow it out until it looks like Dad’s, so not too long, but a little longer than it is now. Plus, Mae said that she likes longer hair. Oh, and can you take us to the movies Friday? I forgot to ask earlier.”
“Sure,” you agreed with a soft smile.
Your son and Mae had officially been dating for about a year, and it was beyond adorable.
Turning into the drop-off lane in front of the school, you pulled Ren’s packed lunch out of the backseat, along with his backpack. He was a growing boy — a realization that brought both you and Satoru to tears — and, naturally, his stomach was a bottomless pit right now.
“Bye Mom,” Ren started to open his car door but paused. “By the way, I hope you and Dad get remarried soon.”
And with that final thought, he closed the door and limped away.
Three days later, Satoru proposed.
Just like he once did years ago, Kento helped him out with planning the details of a perfect proposal.
It was in a beautiful, forestry area lit up with fairy lights — a gorgeous local walking trail you both strolled down together often.
He got down on one knee. Pulled out a mesmerizing ring. Cheeks red from being nervous, an emotion only you could bring out of the extroverted man.
There was no greater joy than when you wrapped your arms around him after saying yes.
God, he loved you. He loved you, and he loved you.
And, once again, you had promised to spend the rest of your life with him, because, god, you loved him. You loved him, and you loved him.
Satoru kissed you deeply after you accepted his proposal, tears streaming down his face.
“This ring isn’t just an engagement ring.” Satoru’s lips hovered over yours as he whispered, “It’s also a promise ring, too. Because I promise you that I’ll be the husband you deserve this time around. You were always so scared back then of falling in love with someone you could lose, and I’m letting you know now that I’m here, and you’ll never lose me to anything, especially a career path. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
“Don’t worry, the past doesn’t define us as much as we think it does, trust me. You, me, and Ren are going to be just fine, okay?” You ran your thumb across his blushing cheek. He was so beautiful. “Let’s just focus on our future. On our every day.”
Satoru kissed you softly, mumbling a subtle, “Okay.”
He had his worries, but whenever your lips touched his cheek, and his lips touched your cheek, he had a gut feeling that, perhaps, everything would be alright.
— DECADES LATER —
“This color looks pretty, Grandma.”
Your eldest granddaughter gently rubbed one of her favorite lipsticks across your lips. “Brings out your eyes.”
“I only have one, honey, but thank you.”
Softly, she laughed. Growing up, she loved hearing the made-up stories about how you got your eyepatch. You being a pirate on an adventure to save captured mermaids was her favorite tale as a child.
She was Ren’s and Mae’s firstborn, the oldest amongst their three children, and the only girl. Your granddaughter was sweet and kind enough to help you get ready for a family brunch.
Ren, who was in his forties now, stepped through the front door of his lovely home with his wife and two sons.
He walked into the living room and greeted you briefly as he kissed your forehead before heading into the kitchen and sitting down a big brown bag filled with groceries.
Then, several more kisses followed from your fellow cherished family members.
You smiled with pride. Ren was a successful surgeon who married his childhood sweetheart and had created a beautiful family.
Suddenly, you frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Your youngest grandson asked, tilting his head a bit.
“Where’s Satoru?”
You glanced around for your husband. You missed him. Where did he go?
Your granddaughter held your hand.
“He’s in the bathroom, remember? He left a few minutes ago. He’ll be right back.”
You gave an unsatisfied nod.
Memory loss has always been a struggle for your entire life. Be it object permanence as a baby, amnesia as an adult, or plain ‘ole forgetfulness as an elder.
But at least you remembered love.
That much was obvious when Satoru returned to the living room, eyes crinkly as he smiled, and your mood suddenly changed into complete and utter happiness.
“You look pretty,” Satoru ran his hand across your cheek. “That’s lipstick, hm?”
“Brings out my eye,” you joked.
As Satoru took a seat next to you on the couch, Mae shouted from the kitchen, “Hey, come help us.”
Your three grandchildren left the living room to assist their parents, leaving you and Satoru alone to enjoy each other’s company by chatting and watching TV until brunch was ready.
He had his arm wrapped around you, his body heat warming your entire soul. There was no greater joy than being with him.
That night, you and Satoru were snuggled up underneath your thick comforter, facing each other in bed.
“After all these years, you still make me nervous,” Satoru said, staring into your eye, his cheeks becoming the faintest shade of pink.
With a warm smile, you slowly kissed Satoru’s cheek. He kissed yours.
You touched a strand of his gray hair. Then, your lovely, wrinkly fingers graced his cheek, the warm lighting from his bedside table lamp highlighting his aged, beautiful face.
“Thank you . . . for another great day, and for all the memories. I love you, Satoru.”
A little yawn escaped you. As you drifted off to sleep, Satoru mumbled, “I love you too, Y/N.”
In time, you will once again start to lose all of your memories. Slowly, it will all fade as you grow older and get closer to your impending demise. Satoru had grown to accept that expected outcome. However, this time around, if you passed on before the retired sorcerer, he wouldn’t be a sad man stuck in a bar, mourning. He would be at your bedside, holding your hand and kissing your cheek.
Then, he’d wait for the day in which he too would pass on and join you in the place of eternal happiness and rest, where, finally, both of your souls would be at peace after what happened.
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♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!
🏷: @sad-darksoul @sircatchungus @gojossocks @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @star-toruu @yobabymama @s7armin @minmin-minnie @jexx233 @roninishere @dreamsarenicer @starzcoffeelvr @delghoul @buttercupmuffins @dijaicar @tuliptoot @sweet-yzabelle @creative1writings @lympha @malikazz243 @bforbiblio @galagarts @enesitamor @luffysfav @chilichopsticks @misscellaneousisme @1plwushie @blackjou @gfmima @dazedflvr @safiest58ravenclaw @dyna-mights @honestlywtfisgoingon @pnkoo @levin4nami @frogtee @myhomeworksnotdone @ushygushybaby @wooasecret
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puppykento · 17 hours
Note
nyxie poo.... can i request real dad toji please..... you write him so deliciously it makes my toes curl. i love you btw x
a/n: winky !! the loml being my first request omg. i love you more xxx. (i got a bit carried away this is like... a little long for a drabble. oops?)
cw: 18+ content, fem!reader, daddy-daugher incest, dub-con, cam girl reader, p in v, creampie, some slut shaming, spitting, squirting
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Toji is no saint - but he's never pretended to be. He should never have been in your room in the first place, but you kept getting all of this money from god-knows-where, and he had a debt to pay. He had every intention to pay you back (eventually), but he just needed a little cash to tide him over until his next job.
The last thing he expected was to see the tab you left open on your computer. He'd only bumped the mouse trying to search through some of the shit on the top of your desk, only for a site that he was fairly familiar with to come up. That didn't mean he expected to see you on the screen, baring your pussy to the world. Your face wasn't in it, sure, but he hasn't reached that level of 'absent father' not the recognise the bedroom he's literally standing in, so... that was definitely his kid there.
That should have been the end of the whole situation. He should have hastily retreated out of your room while pretending he never saw anything. Should've and would've are two very different things, and before Toji can even register what he's doing, he's sat at your desk and pressing play.
He should feel guilty when he rubs himself raw watching his daughter play with her pretty pussy, but he can hardly feel bad when the sounds coming from your PC are so fucking hot. He stifles a groan as his cum shoots all over his shirt and hand, a frown coming to his face. Shit. He hadn't cum that quickly since he was a teenager.
He stands up quickly and clicks out of the page, making his way to the bathroom to clean up. Looks like he'd have to have a little chat with you later.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
"So, I was in your room earlier." He says as you return home, walking over to join you on the couch. No response. Fucking typical. "Hey, brat. I'm talkin' to you."
"Yeah, I heard. Just trying to figure out how you thought you had any business going into my room." You reply, your brows furrowing as you look at him.
"You always gotta be such a bitch? Shit. I'm tryna have a talk with ya. You're my kid." He bites out, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. You just glower at him, not bothering to reply once again. He lets out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Found your dirty tapes. Think daddy wouldn't start wondering where all your cash came from?"
That manages to get a reaction from you. You look cute like that - your eyes all wide as you gape at him. A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans forward, invading every inch of your personal space. "What? You didn't think your daddy'd find out, huh? Knew I raised a pretty girl, but I didn't think I'd raised such a slut."
"You had no right to-"
"Ah! That's where you're wrong, baby. See, you been hidin' all this money from daddy while he's been slavin' away to make sure you got a roof over your head. Been shovin' those cute little fingers in that cute cunt of yours when daddy coulda been doin' it for you this whole time and takin' a cut."
"Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?" You snap, heat building in your face as he lowers his head slightly, his gaze trailing along your body. He doesn't say anything in reply, instead choosing to grab a fistful of your hair to pull you into a searing kiss.
His lips are greedy and unrelenting, prying yours open enough to push his tongue into your mouth. Your brows furrow as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take control of the kiss as your body goes rigid. His hand slides lower until his thumb grazes against your clothed clit, instantly causing the tension to dissolve from your body. He chuckles as you moan into his mouth, rubbing circles with his thumb as he presses you back against the couch.
"Shit. I really did raise a fuckin' whore. Look at ya, spreading your legs for your own daddy after one kiss." He says as he pulls away from the kiss, a cocky smile spreading across his face. "Gonna fuck that slutty cunt, baby. First time's just gonna be for daddy's eyes, but I'll get ya creaming my cock on that camera soon enough."
His lips smash against yours once more, his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. He fumbles with your clothes, only pulling away from the kiss when necessary until he has you naked. He's not patient enough to undress himself, so he settles for just reaching into his trousers and pulling his cock out. It sits heavily on your thigh, twitching as he kisses his way down your neck.
"Bet you got an easy pussy." He growls, nipping at the skin of your throat. He forces two fingers past your entrace, making your breath hitch. "Wouldn't be surprised if I could slip right in without stretchin' her open."
"Daddy, m'not easy-" Toji curls his fingers just as you try to defend yourself, pressing them against that gummy spot that has you mewling for him and arching your back. He pulls his fingers out, his eyes lowering to watch the way that your hole clenches on air, desperately waiting for something to fill it up.
"Didn't fuckin' ask." He grunts, slapping his cock against your clit until he has you squirming and pleading for him to put it in. "You're just gonna shut up 'n take it."
He presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, gritting his teeth as it catches your entrance. With a deep groan, he presses forward, his thick girth slowly stretching you open. "Fuuuuck. Needy pussy suckin' me right in. Surprised she's so tight, baby. The shit you been recording, I thought you'd be loose."
Toji could barely breath with the way you clenched around him as he bottomed out, his hips flush with the back of your thighs. "Takin' me so fuckin' well, sweetheart. Shame that slutty pussy opened up for other guys, hmm? Daddy woulda loved to be the one to break 'er in."
After a few seconds of stillness to allow you to adjust, he's pulling back until his tip is just ghosting your entrance before he thrusts back in harshly, his cock bullying your cervix and forcing a choked out groan from you. He presses his forehead against yours in what is possibly the most tender gesture your dad's ever given you before he starts pounding you into the cushions of the sofa.
You look so pretty with your legs spread wide for him, the sweetest moans spilling past your lips with every moan. Toji fucked you like his life depended on it, rutting into your cunt desperately. Your lips part, and in a hazy moment where Toji can barely remember his own name, he can't help but lean down and spit directly into your mouth.
"Shit, that's... that's fuckin' hot, Christ." He forces out through gritted teeth as you swallow it on instinct, his thrusts almost violent, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room each time his hips smack against your thighs. "M'close, baby. Y'gotta cum for me, yeah?"
He spits again, this time directly onto your pussy, two fingers coming down to rub his saliva into your clit. Barely takes any time at all before you're arching off the couch, your eyes rolling back into your head as you tighten around his length, gushing all over him. His hips falter for a moment at just how much cum floods him - his hand and stomach getting coated in your release.
"Atta. Fucking. Girl." He grunts, punctuating each word with a particularly deep thrust, his eyes locked onto his shimmering cock as it disappears over and over again in your tight cunt. "Didn't see ya squirt like that in the video. Saved it just for daddy, hmm?"
His thrusts get more sloppy and desperate, his eyes squeezing shut as he lets out a loud groan, his hands moving to grip your hips tight enough they feel like they might bruise. He buries himself to the hilt, letting out a guttural moan as he spills deep inside of you, his cock kicking as he fills you up with rope after rope of cum.
He relishes in the way you whimper at the feeling, at how good you feel squeezing his dick so tight. His thighs tremble as he pulls out, flopping back onto the couch with a groan. He's never met a girl that had taken his breath away like that. Feels like your pussy was made just for him.
"Fuck, baby. No wonder you make bank on those videos." He says after a moment, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He shoots you a grin as he looks at you, his eyes shining with mischief. "You gonna let daddy star in the next one?"
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darlingdarkly · 3 days
Text
New Year, New You Part 9
Johnny MacTavish x f!reader
Personal Trainer AU
4.2 Words
CW: dubcon!, dark fic, dark content, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, explicit language, E rated, NSFW, smut, 18+, mature themes, gaslighting
Part: 1, 8
You awoke, not to the bray of your phone alarm that you’d carefully set before climbing into bed, but to the languid pass of Johnny’s tongue. Like gentle brush strokes they covered the canvas of your inner thighs, drawing ever upward towards the apex of your sex. It was a slow and gentle rise from the depths of slumber, much more pleasant than being violently torn from your deep sleep into the waking world like you’d grown begrudgingly accustomed to.
Your hands slid down from their warm beds and under the covers where they found soft purchase in the length of his Mohawk and skimmed down the shaved sides, fingers cutting through the buzz like snakes through grass. “Johnny.”
He spoke no words, communicating solely through different pitched hums against your skin that sent tingles up your spine, lighting your nerves and slowly setting them aflame. Now that he knew you were awake he tugged at the fabric of your panties on either side of your hips, pulling down one side before the other and marking each bit of freshly gained territory with a kiss like planting his flag to claim it as his.
You slowly open your eyes as he lifts your legs up and over his strong shoulders like tying a bib on before a particularly messy meal. “Johnny, I’ve got to go to work.” You say it even as you know the light letting in through the windows isn’t quite right, it’s much too dark to be eight thirty.
He doesn’t even bother acknowledging your poor excuses with a response. He’s built his breakfast, now he’ll eat and instead just leans forward and lets you feel the flat of his tongue as it slowly runs up your slit, from hole to clit and you can’t help the breathy moan that leaves you, the first of many you’ll sing to give rise to the sun.
He hums against your clit and your head falls back against the pillow, giving up and giving in. It must please him because he finally speaks, though it’s unclear if he’s addressing you or your pussy.
“Sweet little thing.” You don’t so much see as you feel him lean forward and wrap his lips around your clit, gently sucking as his fingers toy at your entrance, pushing just the pad of his finger in and feeling you clench around it, not quite succeeding at pulling it in.
Your hands push his head closer and you feel him smile against you as he takes your hint, one finger slipping in to just the knuckle as he laps up the juices that seep out around it. You moan his name, a slow soft plea that makes his cock twitch as it carries sweetly to his ears.
He works his finger in and out of you slowly, nothing about what he's doing is rushed or urgent, just content to ruin you as thoroughly as he can at his own pace. You arch a little, pushing yourself closer, chasing the sensation, but any movement in the opposite direction, like when he sucked hard on your clit and you tried to scoot back away from the intense sensation was futile. His arms held you steady, no budge, like some kind of giant living Chinese finger trap.
He pulled his finger out and pulled his tongue away from you long enough for you to catch your breath. You could hear him sucking on his finger under the sheets, followed by a moment of silence. He didn’t leave you waiting for long as you felt his tongue on your clit once again followed by an even greater stretch as he pushed two digits into you, drawing out your long high pitched moan with deep, dragging thrusts of his index and middle finger.
Your hands grasped and pulled at his Mohawk as his fingers hit your sweet spot and it only spurred him on as he worked to amplify all of your little noises until you were nearly shouting. He kept on like that, fine tuning his ministrations based on the intensity and pitch of your wails until with a final piercing cry you succumbed to the pleasure. You struggled in his grasp, shaking and pulling away from the last passes of his tongue as he cleaned you up and savored the taste.
You felt the grip of his hands on your hips cease before his head poked up out of the covers on top of you as he rose from the crook of your thighs, your first sight of him grinning and glistening in the pale morning light. He unceremoniously wiped the wetness from his chin and fell like a monolith onto the bed at your side.
He pulled you close, sweeping you into the nook by his side. Cuddled there warm and sated, the tempting embrace of sleep threatened to pull you under once more. His fingers carded through your hair gently and it was beyond you to fight it anymore. You fell willingly into the open arms of morning slumber. Fools gold in the way it draws you in, shining with promise but really only skin deep, its fragile surface easily marred at the faintest sound or shift of light.
Despite this, you awoke, seemingly much later, this time like you had initially expected to. You reached for your phone on the nightstand and rubbed your eyes as you silenced the alarm and checked the time. The room was bright but the bed beside you was cold. You suddenly realized you had no idea what his schedule looked like. His little early morning snack could have been his way of saying good morning and goodbye and you suddenly felt guilty you hadn’t spoken to him more, too lost in the haze to be considerate.
It wasn’t until you got out of bed and made your way towards the door that the smell became evident. You gently pulled the door just open enough to stick your head out and see him, his back was to you as he stood in front of the stove in his boxers and nothing else. You stood watching him as he flipped something in a pan, his shoulder blades flexing and shifting, the subtle movements in the back of his triceps ascended from spry flicks of his wrist.
You caught yourself ogling him and pulled back, gently shutting the door and grabbing your bag from its place just inside the closet. You stepped into the bathroom and began to strip, pulling off your nightclothes and turning on the stream. You stepped under and began to bathe as your mind drifted towards the day ahead, as much as you’d like to ruminate in the memories of the last twenty four hours you had a day of work ahead, the vacation was over.
But it soon became less about the work and more about seeing Nancy again. Of course she’d want to know what happened, probably had a story of her own to tell, at the very least you’d get a recount of the evening's events from her point of view. You wondered how helpful it’d be in figuring out who was behind your drugging and the theft of your ID, a long shot but maybe she saw something.
You were startled from your thoughts by Johnny’s voice beyond the shower. “Morning, lass. How’d ye sleep?” It never failed to surprise you just how quiet and sneaky he could be. “Ahh! Jesus Johnny, you scared me.”
He snickered and you saw him through the frosted glass pane of the shower door as he stepped fully into the room and up to it, the outline of him becoming clearer as he drew near til it was blurry but opaque.
“Didnae mean to scare ye, ah’m cookin’ breakfast but ye already ken, heard ye peek your head out tha’ door.”
Your eyes widen behind the glass. So he had heard you, you were almost certain you hadn’t made any noise, how attuned was he? You apologize, though you aren’t really sure why or for what.
“S’ok lass, ye were only curious. Though ah am a bit disappointed ye did nae come get me before ye jumped in fer a shower. Could’ave helped ye wash yer back.” You shiver at the implications, head suddenly filled with images of him and you naked, wet and entwined.
“Johnny-“
“Still could ye know. S’not too late tae make ye late fer work.”
Your hand drifts towards the door, you could. And you have half a mind to let him but then remember he’s cooking. “Johnny, but the food.”
When he speaks next his voice is thick and strained and it sounds like the last of his self control is the only thing standing between you and him, that and the thin, frosted pane of glass and you see his own hand drift towards it, ready to rid himself of the last physical blockade. “Donnae give ah fuck. Ah’ll let it burn, let tha’ whole place go up in flames just tae have ye again.”
Maybe it’s the candid quality of his words, complete honesty and lacking any kind of filter, he’d never been bashful before that’s for sure. But while you’d known him to say things just to rile you this felt different somehow, a genuineness that felt like he was itching for you to dare him but was completely prepared to make true on the promise. As crazy and irrational as the statement was, you believed him.
The words make an almost unbearable need puddle in your stomach and you have to actively seek the will to resist it. The only thing truly stopping you is the thought of facing a crew of burly firefighters in perhaps nothing more than a bath towel. You swallow thickly and then refuse him, promising to be out in a minute. He doesn’t say anything or move for a moment and you wonder if maybe he’s considering stepping in with you anyway. An executive decision you knew you’d find mighty hard to resist if made, you find yourself considering facing the firefighters stark naked if he’d be there beside you.
Before you can fully consider the possibilities he turns and leaves making you bite your lip and curse for cockblocking yourself. Frustrated and undeniably horny, the trancelike quality of the shower had dissipated and so you quickly washed off and stepped out. Toweling yourself dry before dressing up for work and going to meet him for breakfast.
When you entered the kitchen you were momentarily glad you’d turned down his offer as the smell of breakfast wafted to your nose but when he’d come back into the kitchen out of the tucked aside pantry and his hungry eyes met yours, you realized your little escapade this morning had been all you focused and you knew he had more on his mind than food.
You made a mental note to make it up to him later and sat down at the place he’d set for you. He sat across from you, grinning and gorgeous with his elbows propped up all improper on the counter. As you both dove into your meal he asked you about work and what you had planned for the day.
You told him while you probably weren’t swamped, you still no doubt had some catching up to do and you’d wanted to make some time, maybe have lunch again, with Nancy to talk to her about what had happened. He visibly paused at Nancy’s mention and it made you look up curiously. He looked, just for a brief second, deeply troubled. But then as soon as it’d dawned it disappeared like it never had been and he changed the subject to his work.
Going into detail about what he had planned at the gym. As you cleared your plate something he said made your ears prick up. “And I’ve got a new regimen in mind fer our next session. Ah’m gonna start havin’ ye do laps ‘round the pool at the gym, work on yer cardio in a different way an’ work some of those muscles ye jus’ cannae get tae any other way. Ye can swim, can’t ye lass?”
You set your fork down and looked across the counter at him. “Johnny, I can’t do that.”
He looked up from his plate for a moment, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth. “Ye cannae swim?”
You shook your head and furrowed your brows. “What? No. Yes, I can swim. I meant I can’t go back to the gym.. I can’t afford it.” You had to drop his gaze on the last sentence, so he really must’ve been asleep last night when you fessed up. You had expected nothing but maybe awkward silence to fill the space behind the confession, but he just laughed instead, making you regain eye contact as you looked up at him, curiously.
“Let me worry about that hen, I’ve got-“ You immediately cut him off. “No, Johnny. You’ve done enough, I can’t possibly ask you to do that on top of everything else.”
“Donnae worry, lass. I’ve already got it all sorted. Jus’ let Johnny handle it.” You gave him a wary look but he traded it with one firm and set, there was to be no more argument over the subject so you dropped it.
You both finish breakfast and you get up to start on dishes even though he protests, you insist upon contributing in some way and he heads into the bedroom to get dressed while you work. When he comes out he’s wearing black athletic shorts and a tight, form fitting blue tee. He looks good, real good and you curse yourself for the second time for not taking him up on his shower offer.
“Ready to go?” A good question but one that was rhetorical, it didn’t really matter, you had to go to work so you nodded and smiled as he ushered you towards the door. The ride to your office was short and sweet and when you pulled on the handle to let yourself out you found it locked. You turned towards Johnny to ask him to unlock it only to be pulled into a slow, soft kiss. It was gentle and un-urgent but melting in its intensity, he pulled away reluctantly and you realized you didn’t really want to get out of the truck, could have been just as content to let him pull away from the curb and call in sick two days in a row.
Instead you waited for him to unlock your door before stepping out onto the sidewalk and heading into the building. He waited for you to get into the elevator before pulling away and you wondered just how your life had managed to change so drastically in the last two days, hell the whole year had gone totally tits up in regards to the woman you’d been when you stepped out of the building following what should have been an ordinary Christmas party. It was like you’d slipped into someone else’s shoes, they were more like the shoes of a married woman instead of the chronically single one you’d been.
The elevator doors slid open and you walked casually to your cubicle as you always had, there were no raised heads, no hushed murmurs from your co-workers, Nancy wasn’t even at your desk like you had assumed she would be, but why would she have been? It’s not like this was the first time you’d called in sick after a disastrous night out. So you sat down and got to work and when lunch rolled around it was you who approached her and invited her out for a bite to eat.
It wasn’t until you’d been seated and your orders taken that you spilled the shorthand version of the events of the last twenty four hours to her, her eyes widening in response as your tale grew and grew in length and absurdity. When you were finished she gave her two cents.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry.” An apology hadn’t been what you were expecting and when she put her hands to her face and looked like the waterworks might start at any moment you reached a hand out to her and began to backpedal.
“Nancy, no. It’s ok. It’s not your fault!” But she was already shaking her head. “Of course it was! If I’d have been paying more attention, if I’d have been right there with you instead of preoccupied all night this never would have happened. I’m the one who convinced you to go out in the first place. Oh god, I feel so awful!”
“Nancy, please. Really, it's ok. You never could have known, and nothing bad happened to me. I’m fine, see?” You smiled at her to make your point as she wiped her eyes with her napkin. “So he found you outside? Thank god he just happened to be there, did he see anyone? Any shady guys around you?”
You shook your head no. “And they stole your wallet? Oh my god, what are you gonna do?”
“Well for the time being I’m staying with Johnny. I guess I’ll have to move out of my place, I don’t wanna have to constantly look over my shoulder all the time. I still have a half a year before the lease is up and in the meantime I’ll start looking for somewhere else to stay. I don’t know how I’m gonna afford it, but I’ll figure something out.”
Nancy reached across the table top and squeezed your hand. “I am so sorry.” You assured her it was alright and tried to lighten the mood by regaling her with your tale of yesterday, how the two of you had spent the day together and how nice it was, how courteous and attentive Johnny had been and the more you gushed the better you began to feel about the whole ordeal.
Nancy had cheered up by the end of the tale and you found yourself looking back over it fondly, even a bit in disbelief as you both regarded how lucky you had been that he’d turned up when he had. But with it all out you still had some questions. “Nancy, I need you to try and remember what happened last night. I can’t and I need to know if you saw anything out of the ordinary. Did I talk to anybody? Dance with anybody? I can’t remember a thing.”
She thought it over a minute but ultimately shook her head. She explained that you’d arrived, had a few shots together that she’d ordered, gone out on the floor to dance and then that’s where you’d met the twins. The mention of the twins rang a bell but nothing definitive came to the surface. She’d explained they’d come up to the pair of you on the dance floor and came onto both of you, you hadn’t been interested but she was rather taken by Ian, even exchanging numbers before she’d left the club that night. Then she went on to explain that it couldn’t possibly have been either of them as they’d been with her the whole rest of the night and your twin had been glued to some redhead he’d met by the bar.
You still couldn’t remember any of it but she offered to text Ian and see if he or Andrew remembered anything that could help. You declined, you doubted they’d seen anything anyway, especially if you’d turned down your twins advances like she said you had and moved onto another girl. It was probably a hopeless situation you’d never find the answers for. Your lunch break was over and you both headed back to the office to finish the day's work.
You spent the rest of it kind of doddling around at your desk, starting reports but leaving them half finished and thinking about your situation. Your watch pinged and you looked down to see a text from Johnny saying he’d be there to pick you up in five and realized the day was over. With a sigh of relief you began to shut your computer down for the evening and cleaning up your desk. You stepped out of the elevator minutes later and saw Johnny’s truck parked on the curb. He got out and opened the passenger door for you again, stopping you before you could climb in to wrap you up in his arms in a crushing bear hug, the strength of which there was no escape until he finally relented and released his hold, catching curious glances from some of your coworkers to your embarrassment.
You shuffled into the passenger seat and waited for him to climb in and pull away from the building before breathing out a sigh of relief. “How was yer day, bonnie?” You set your purse down at your feet.
“Un-productive. Both work and situation wise. He looked interested but not surprised. “Yeah? I’m sorry, hen. Nancy didnae see anythin’ then?”
You stared out the window and missed the long curious gaze he threw your way before averting his eyes back to the road, after a minute you spoke. “I don’t know what to do, Johnny. I don’t think I’ll ever truly know what happened to me that night and I don’t think I’ll ever know who did it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
His hand settled on your thigh and you turned away from the window to meet his gaze. “Dinnae worry, lass. I’ll keep ye safe, I swear it. Ye can stay with me as long as ye’d like, ye’ll never ever have tae go home again, I’ve already got it alllll figured out hen.”
And the way he says it, the total confidence in his voice has alarm bells ringing in the back of your brain. “Johnny, what are you talking about?”
“S’already taken care of. I’ve hired a few movers tae pack her stuff and bring it over tae my place tomorrow afternoon. Ye’ll never have tae set foot in yer apartment ever again.” Your eyes widen, he’d arranged to have all your stuff moved to his place? Without talking to you about it? At all?
“Johnny, what the fuck?!” He doesn’t even look the least bit stunned. “S’fine, lass. I ken ye couldnae jus’ leave all yer belongings behind, Ye’ll be all settled in in no time an’ there’s plenty of space fer ye tae put yer stuff where ever ye’d like. We’ll make a whole day of it, jus’ you an’ me. Donnae be fashed, hen. Johnny’s got it all taken care of. Ye wouldnae want tae let this guy see ye movin yer stuff out, he’d jus’ follow ye tae mah place and ken yer livin’ there an’ then he could follow us tae yer work an’ get ya while I’m nae there tae stop him. S’better this way.”
Before you can register any of it fully he’s pulling the truck off the road and coming to a stop. You look out the window and realize you’re not back at his place, you’re currently parked in front of the gym.
“Johnny, what are we doing?” He pulls your gym bag out of the backseat and sets it down on your lap. “I told ye I’d find a way tae get yer subscription reinstated an’ ah did. Come on.” For once he doesn’t open the door for you and you step out, gym bag in hand and follow him into the building. It looks the same, the lobby still packed with people coming and going. He has you go up to the kiosk to sign in while he walks further into the building for something.
You can hardly believe you’re back here, signing in and getting ready to work out again, you thought when you left that it’d be the last time. You type your info into the tablet but no matches come up. You double check the spelling of your name but it’s all there correctly, you figure they must have deleted your profile when your trial ran out and you’d have to make a new one. You were about to start the process when Johnny came back. “What are ye doin’ hen?”
“My names not in the system, they must’ve deleted my profile, I’m just gonna make a new one.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Lemme see tha’.” You hand him the little stylus and he checks back over your work before tapping a few buttons and typing something in. You lean over to see what he’s done.
“What’d you do?” He just flashes you a sly smile and explains. “Had tae change yer name tae get ye reinstated. Yer good tae go now, lass. Jus’ remember yer under this name when ye sign in from now on.”
You take a peek at the screen as it flashes the words you’ve seen a couple dozen times before, only this time slightly different.
“Thank you for signing in! We hope you have a very productive workout Mrs. MacTavish!”
You turn to look at Johnny but all he has for you is that same toothy grin, wolfish and sly. “Ready fer yer next session?”
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bakubunny · 3 days
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*insert sound effect of bell ringing as i skip into bunny’s bakery*
HAPPY 2.5k HUN! well deserved! :3
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I’d like to order two slices of pie. pretty please.
1. bnha, izuku, lemon meringue
2. jjk, megumi, blueberry
i have no specifications, surprise me. i’ll eat anything you serve <333
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hi starr!! okay so, in truth, i put yours off a bit because between us and our moots, a lot of izu has been written. i wanted to discuss something i hadn’t before, and it took me a while to get an idea i liked. megumi on the other hand… i feel as though i don’t know him well, but i’ll give it a shot. i hope you enjoy and that you feel better soon, love! thanks so much. i’m glad you’re here. <3
tw: dark content (megumi), yandere behavior
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name: midoriya izuku
order: lemon meringue pie
lemon meringue: the first time pro bf!izuku overheard you getting off, his knees almost buckled. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, your pretty mewls behind closed doors made his cheeks hot and his heart swell. he had to stop himself from busting in the room immediately; he didn’t want to freak you out or make you think he’d overheard you intentionally. but hearing the sweet, breathless coos of his name when he wasn’t even in the room made him tremble. he was confident he’d fallen in love with you all over again. whether or not he decides to knock gently and give you what you’re craving or listen quietly, i’ll let you decide.
name: fushiguro megumi
order: blueberry pie
blueberry: yandere!megumi is a silently obsessive type. dreams about keeping you all to himself, locked up in his basement, but he knows better than to try that. he knows more about you than he should, and somehow obtained a lock of your hair that he has stored neatly for safe keeping. you knew each other in high school when his obsession started. it’s lasted several years past graduation, and even though you work independently from each other for the most part, he keeps up on every detail of your life. he has to act as though everything you’re telling him is new information when you have coffee and catch up or work together on something.
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bunny’s bakery (closed)
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yuujipaws · 2 days
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⌗︙your stepdad toji does what . . .ᐣ
ᯓ★ synopsis 概要 : little things toji does to get closer to you. or even inside of you.
ᯓ★ content warnings 警告 : stepcest, panty stealing & sniffing, drugging, p in v, and somnophilia.
「 minors do not interact 」
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ᯓ perv stepdad toji who watches you as you fold laundry, bending down to grab another piece of clothing out of the dryer, shirt lifting to reveal what’s hidden beneath.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who doesn’t mind when you don’t wear pants around the house, admiring the view when your mother isn’t looking.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who asks you to help him give the dog a bath, just to watch you get your clothes wet, wearing nothing underneath.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who sneaks into your room while you’re not home to rummage through your dirty laundry, picking out a pair of panties to keep.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who stuffs his face into these stolen panties when he’s alone, hand wrapped around his cock, daydreaming of you.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who promises to watch after you while your mother is away visiting family, only to put sleeping pills in your cocoa before bed.
ᯓ perv stepdad toji who waits until you’re asleep to violate you, snapping pictures of your most private parts before fucking them senseless, all while you’re asleep.
© yujipaws 2024. please do not copy or modify.
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kel-lance · 2 days
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Team Bonding: JJK Students x Reader x Sukuna Part 2
- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.
- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college. 
- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event. 
- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/
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“Anyone want to come and hold the camera? Sukuna tosses the phone and gets right to it. He slaps your ass and grinds into your softer parts. His weight on your back, taking out the air from your lungs, it kind of was easing the pain in your face.
No I gotta get out of here I can’t have intrusive thought right now.
He picks your head up and makes you look at your friends again. You’ve never seen them so angry, or was it disgust? You knew it was hopeless if they’re not willing to risk getting to safety if they can’t trust you to handle this.
You were adaptable, like you said, it was another part of you reversed curse technique. You were healing your own wounds as he inflicted more. Each strike was messing up your concentration, and no one other than yuta knew how hard that was for you right now.
Sukuna raises his fist again and you brace for it. He smiles and said, “Good, someone get this on camera, now.” You were now faced with two phones in your face.
“Make sure you get her face or I’ll hurt her real bad.” Yuta grits his teeth and looks down. This was too weird, really out of character for everyone to be powerless, essentially you. Pinkie snaps in his direction. “Hey, you did this”
His body shifts back upright, his weight mounting onto his legs, crushing yours that’re pinned underneath. You couldn’t move, not like he wouldv’e let you, but it sure didn’t help you to expect the punch under your shoulder blade. Then the other, and the other all around the same spots.
You couldn’t see with the tears coming to your eyes, much less think without the air you just had whacked out of you. He was just punching into your ribs, your lungs, his eyes sparkling as your head cringed in pain and arms thrashed like a bug under his foot.
He stops when you’re starting to respond less. He turns to the rest of them, “You didn’t listen. Don’t make me do it again I can’t wait any longer.”
You think your rib’s broken, or at least your organs are bruised up. You could probably fix it in a second, but you missed your chance. Sukuna slices open your forearm and sticks his fingers inside, wriggling them, making you lose control.
“AHHHHHHHH” You belted. “AAAAAAHhhHHHHHHHH” Your pitch hitching as he slid his digits down, slicing you opening further.
“Cmon. I’f you give up now-“
You grab at his hand stopping him from strumming at your veins and rip him out. Immediately you use your RTC on and focus your breathing. Your view only on fixing the gash, youre energy was a mess, your hands and rest of you were convulsing. You wanted to look up, in case another assault was planned but you could only see sukuna.
You wanted to look out further, but you could see that they were giving you a face you’ve never seen before.
They don’t feel bad do they? Were they scared for you? You were the best choice of this inane situation, and being perfectly honest, everything still works, you should be fine, No, you. were. fine.
Sukuna licks his lips and laughs at you. “You can’t look at your underclassmen? Won’t you tell them you’re alright?” One palm now on your bruised back, holding you down to the ground while the other starts squeezing at the fat of your ass.
You just continue to heal as fast as you can, multitasking with your bones and organs while he’s distracted. He grabs at the bottom, cupping you in his hand and grasping it as much as he could above your leggings. You could only focus on slowing your breathing again, but that doesn’t help with the confusing pain yet distracting pleasure on different ends of your body.
You heave, hard and heavy, tired as this was a lot of work. It really hast been that long has it? Gojo really left 30 minutes ago? He slaps your ass and they wince for you. Slapping you a few more times, he then goes between your thighs and traces over you from hole to clit. ‘Wuh-”
“Everyone take a picture!” Sukuna tells the others. His hand pinning you down is pressing you further into the floor while his other freed your ass from its restriction. He pulled with such force your hips lifted, causing your ass to bounce when he let go.
“Hm? Not bad at all.”
You could feel it again, except it was harder, bigger, what the hell you could probably tell since he was taller, his build seemed pretty great, and he has a nice face, though it looks devilish right now, you couldn’t help but hate him. It was still your first meet. Every instance of hearing about him made Kugi sad or react in some way, Megs has seen it a few too many times to say much but you knew.
You don’t know if you’d be able to separate him from who he was from who he is now.
“This had gone too fucking far!”
“What the fuck are we going to do?”
“Y/n we’re sorry we’re gonna wait for Gojo.”
“It’s so risky. Can you endure this?”
Sukuna laughs “I SAID that was the lesson today! She’s doing well, I might just keep her after this.”
He covers your mouth and tells you to bite down. He shoves himself inside you, tearing through your walls, forcing his length further with each exasperated rut, you could only freeze up as he kept climbing in you.
Your eyes shot out to nothing. “No way. No fucking way. I want to die this isn’t real I want to die I want to kill him and then die!!!” You tense up, reacting to each thrust as there’s something invading your core, trapping you under him with just his sex. You twitched around, this cramping coming to you as his other head assaulted you from the inside.
You close your eyes, tears forming as your body reacts. The memories of how you decided to become the way you were now, showing everyone you were strong. You were never going to let that happen again, now that you can take almost anything down, there couldn’t be an instance of something like this happening.
It was because it was Yuuji. No, this was because of Gojo sensei. Where was he? The day he decided run late or even have you in charge for the whole day instead of half, what ever it was, this should be on his head. You knew he was careless but he was the one who voughed for Itadori.
Sukuna sighs as he’s adjusting to your heat and restriction. He looks up at everyone else, letting go of your arms as they can see the dead shock on your face.
“Yn?”
You don’t respond.
“Hey they’re asking for you. Show them more.” He slides himself out of you, leaving you gaping from the cockwarming he needed. He picks you up by the back of your shirt, tearing it off along with your sports bra.
“Now that you all know how serious I am,” he puts you in front oh him, playing with your chest and digs his face in your neck, roughly eating away at you. He lifts your leg and shows you off to everyone.
You try to gain control again, out of embarrassment. This was stupid! You were hot!! You knew that!! But you never would just expose yourself to your friends! Your legs quivered and tried to close as you could only stand on your toes.
“Ah ah ah…” he cracked you open, took his two fingers, and spread you outward.
With that you just start crying. The embarrassment, helplessness, and general change in everything made it all so confusing. It happened so fast, the first moment that yuuji got hit in the face that now not even 10 minutes later Sukuna started harassing everyone.
It was worse that looking out finally, everyone had their phones out. If they weren’t looking their phones were facing you, if they were the looks on their faces contorted. They didn’t want to stand there, they couldn’t believe their senior would ever be put in this position, that they would be part of it either.
You could tell some of them were flustered. Everyone just didn’t know what to do. Megumi glowering through his phone. You think if he sees it in real life he might just call moraga. You told him never do that unless he was dying.
Nobara covering her face, her heart breaking as her mentor told her of their past. She kept getting upset whenever Yuuji was brought up, now he’s back but at a cost. She wanted to throw up but she could only cry while watching.
Maki, toge, they scowled. Arms raised to record in case anyone else were to miss a moment, in case they needed some content for sukuna to be satisfied. Maki grit at her teeth, her eyes ripped through you and dig into sukuna who only winked at her.
Toge, usually cool calm collected and even goofy, just seemed helpless too. His brows furrowed but he couldn’t tell what the next move could be. It looked like he was still figuring out a way to stop this. You just wanted it to be over.
Lastly Yuta, holding his device up, his eyes screaming he was sorry for before. Before? Oh your back? And your lungs and all that? You had them under control. You wounds slightly open and partly all fixed, you were still broken in terms of physicality, but mentally there was still a little bit to fight for.
With you spread he starts to play with your sensative parts. He slaps a your thighs and pulls you closer, running his large fingers between your folds and shoving his fingers in.
“You’re like a puppet!” He turns. “Watch what I can make it do.” He rubs his fingers inside you quickly, thrusting hard and invading every crevice you own, he curls his fingers deep inside causing you to whimper.
You hitched your breath and felt a quick jolt of pleasure come from your core. The noise surprised you, but more so surprised your peers.
They were used to you barking orders, laughing at them when you knocked them down, watched as you recovered yourself from everyone’s hits, it was always lighthearted fun, or just brutal attacks from you. This was the main factor that this was real to them. Seeing you cry, not looking at them like you always do, telling them how you feel through your eyes.
It was a talent of yours. You could read people, and you could let others read you right back, not by your actions. That would be too easy for an enemy. Any of your mates knew your signatures, a look could have them burst out laughing or gives them a split second of a warning before you went in. This was a look they’ve never seen before.
“What can we do to make you stop this?” Yuta gritted. “You can’t do this forever.”
His warning didn’t loosen sukunas grip, he instead maneuvered you to line above him. Your legs folded to your chest as the pink dude holds you up, in a standing nelson. “Don’t worry, this vessel can’t last long, so we’ll build a tolerance.” He drops you onto his hard cock, the gravity helping him pierce you further and further, it felt like forever was filling you up.
You couldn’t hide your face, you couldn’t move anything else for the matter. You just squeeze your eyes shut and try to bite your tongue. You didn’t want them hearing you anymore. They could see but there’s no way you could show them this side.
Sukunas hand let go, letting the gravity fully envelope him, and holding you up by the throat. He grunts as he moves you up and down by the neck, playing with his strength and the weight to move you around however he wanted.
“While I have my breaks, she won’t.” He means you. “Before I go, your homework will be capturing the beginning, during, and the end results of you playing with her. I don’t can’t if you share, I don’t care if she’s even awake, you will keep my pet company.” His voice rasped in your ears. What the fuck was he talking about?
He picks you up and drops you on his cock again, you barely being able to think because the pain has all numbed out by now. You could barely anything else, given that you used a ton of energy on your wounds already. Every minute passing by was close to a blackout, but you couldn’t be careless and leave them now.
His head grinds and pokes through your cervix, you’re pissed that the cramps you know that will come from such a brutal beating. “I don’t care what order you do it in.” He’s getting rougher, your face was a mess now, tears, snot, drool, blood, it was all making you lose it. The discomfort, the mess, the humiliation, you felt scared. No, that’s not what that is.
“I don’t care if you even clean up after each other, just pass her on.” He lifts and plunges you down again, like a toy or a doll now, moving you, using you with ease. It was something you’ve thought of before, someone larger using you like a human fleshlight. The terrible, abusing thoughts you grew to endure from your past rape. When you were completely powerless.
Sorcery doesn’t come easily to kids. But now you were supposed to protect everyone. You basically taught them this was how to save you.
The cold air stinging your skin as you all hid in the shade, rather that’s where he dragged y’all. “Remember what I said.” He thrusts into you now, holding you tightly, you’re trying still to stifle your noises but he grabs your face, forcing your mouth open letting everything come out.
“My idea is to keep this from the Brat. For as long as we can go on for. Maybe even until you stupid humans die.” He laughed, you feel his deep voice echo through you. You hold onto his arms, digging your nails into his arms as the only control you had over the sensations.
“If he figures it out, he’ll break, and then I’ll take over.“ He growls into your ear. “Get ready.”
He lets you go, pushing you onto the floor. You’re at their feet now, in front of everyone. Not just a few feet away before, you were now right at anyone’s ankles.
Sukuna slaps your ass again, pulling it back towards his hips before he started to rut into you again. As deep as he could, it hurt so bad as he bullied his dick into you, trying to create a new hole from the inside. But with a soft gasp, he released himself inside of you. The hot liquid being the first to coat your bruised walls.
As he let out sighs of relief, you started letting out cries again, somewhat being able to understand what just happened. Your brain was trying its best to figure out how to help you in this moment, there was so much pressure, you just…
“Look at that!” Sukuna slips his way out, unblocking your bladder. You couldn’t even stop it, the fear and anger and everything just came out with your squirting orgasm. The world in front of you disappeared, your friends faces blurred, having finally your senses just melt away as you spasmed.
“I didn’t have to do much and we both end up cumming. Your friend is a born slut, she’s perfect for my ‘assignment’. ” You legs now dripping with your own juice, and his/yuuji’s seed slowly slopped itself out, adding to the mess.
He leaves you on the ground, catching your breath before laying in exhaustion. You couldn’t do anything else, your legs would give and your head was already so fucked up. “I’ll be popping in randomly, so have everything ready. I shouldn’t have to repeat myself do I?”
Sukuna starts dressing himself again, just tucking himself back into his pants as he planned this to be quick. “Any questions?”
The heavy energy coming from the group ahead. They’re standing with their hearts in their throats, having just watched, recorded, photographed, basically taking part of this sick situation. You look at the girls, they’re more than ready to kill. The initial shock became more than rage, as what was this for other than to humiliate another strong woman.
The boys, they were hard. The guilt in yuta and toges eyes while trying to look away from what they just saw. A confused feeling overcoming them. Megumi now crying that his body also reacted. His fingers drawing blood from how hard he clenched his hands.
Kuna stood behind you, and picked up yuujis phone again. You didn’t know what could even happen next, so you let go, slipping into sleep as you hear clicking.
I'll probably have to edit this later but im working on mafia au (that's got 12 parts ive gotten planned out rn, this one i have 4 more chapters plenned out, and i have a few more fics with 5+ chapters plnned out. but i also got other stuff going on so thanks for reading <3
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benkeibear · 3 days
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Toji punishing you by stuffing his favorite fleshlight into your cunt. He's still fucking you but you don't feel a single thing, whining pathetically and begging him to touch you.
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svuguru · 2 months
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Somno with stepdaddy Toji 🍬
Toji gazes down at you fondly as you shift in your sleep, your eyes screwed shut and your teeth sunken into your lower lip. Your short shorts are pulled up high thanks to your crazy sleeping, your tank top lifted up to your chest and exposing just a peak of your tit.
A faint, "fuck," falls from Toji's lips before he lowers himself down to his knees, placing his hands on your waist and gently pulling you closer to him. His eyes are glued to your sleeping form as he carefully hooks two fingers to the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your warm thighs.
Toji groans at the sight of your damp panties after spreading your legs, reaching for his hard, strained cock and palming at it intensely. He leans down between your thighs, a breath escaping his lips before he licks a stripe up the wet area on your panties. His eyes roll back and he quickly peels your panties off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your dripping pussy.
"Havin' a wet dream, huh, princess? Dirty girl," Toji grunts into the heat of your pussy, your walls clenching around nothing as you whimper. You throw your head to the side, sinking it into the supple pillow and your hair is spread all around the sheets. He takes two fingers again and drags them across your soaking cunt, swirling them around before slowly slipping them into your tight hole.
Just at the feeling of his fingers inside of you has his cock aching inside of his pants, silently humping the mattress as he curse under his breath. You squirm and shift in your sleep, murmuring a soft, "daddy...", drawing out a quiet laugh from Toji.
"All wet for daddy, huh?" He knits his eyebrows together, "shit, take it for daddy..." The way you suck Toji's fingers in like a vice has him imagining just how tight and warm you'd be when you actually do take his dick, how you'd struggle to fit all of him in and how you'd look up at him with teary, doe eyes, repeating how you need him and how you want him, begging him to hit it raw with no barrier between you and your stepdaddy.
Toji starts thrusting his wrist, sliding his finger in and out of your sopping hole, your juices coating his digits. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Toji's greedy eyes and you gasp.
"Mhh... Daddy..? What are you doing?" You slur sleepily, eyes droopy. Toji only leans down again to plant a kiss to your clit, his soft breaths muffled by the bundle of nerves.
"Shh, baby, shh... Take it for daddy, yeah? For daddy, do it for me."
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moechies · 3 months
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tw dark content heavy infantilization, smut
boys who baby you so much it's so suffocating </3
・゚✧ boys who wake you up in the morning with soft kisses against your pantie covered cunt, tracing the outline of your squishy lips and drawing hearts on your clit <3
・゚✧ boys who kiss n suck on your tits so gently that it's not enough, slightly warning you with a light squeeze to your wrists when you keep on squirming, 'i know sweet girl, s just a bit more.'
・゚✧ boys who endlessly finger you, telling you that it's because he's prepping you for his overwhelming cock.. when you're borderline begging n begging for him but he just won't give it to you!
・゚✧ and finally, boys who barely slide their thick tip inside your sweet hole, just to get off on only that! he thinks little girls like you aren't made to take such big cocks, n makes you cry for him to push in deeper. but he denies it, saying, ‘you aren't ready baby.. this is for the best..’
౨ৎ mahito, oikawa tooru, tendou satori, nagi seishirou, meguru bachira, ran haitani, draken ryuguji <3
(n more i cannot think rn ahahahwjw bye)
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yuujispinkhair · 5 months
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Death's Bride
Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.
Halloween Masterlist 2023
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut Word Count: 14k Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.
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It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.
You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.
You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.
A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.
It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.
The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.
The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.
You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.
He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.
He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.
And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.
Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.
He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.
His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.
There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.
And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.
He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.
And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.
"Are you here to collect souls?"
Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.
His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,
"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."
His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.
But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.
Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.
But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.
"No!"
Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.
"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"
Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.
Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.
He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.
"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."
You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,
"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"
Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.
"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."
Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.
He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.
And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.
"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"
He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.
"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"
His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.
But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.
"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."
He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.
"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"
You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,
"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"
More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,
"You're a fearless one. I like that."
His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.
"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."
You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.
You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.
Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.
But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.
The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.
He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.
You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.
"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."
His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.
Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.
The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.
But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,
"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."
His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.
Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.
You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.
How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.
If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.
By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.
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You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.
In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.
But not today.
You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.
That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.
You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.
You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.
There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.
And, suddenly, you remember everything.
The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.
Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.
And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.
And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.
At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.
He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.
There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.
He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.
And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.
He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.
"Ah, I see you are awake."
"What... what did you do to me?"
The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.
He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.
"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."
You nod firmly,
"Yes, yes, of course I remember."
"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,
"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"
Oh.
You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.
"But why am I... naked?"
"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."
So you were right. This is his bed.
"Why am I in your bed?"
He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.
"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"
You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.
You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,
"Yes, my Lord."
"Sukuna."
You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.
"What?"
"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."
He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,
"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."
He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.
You gulp hard.
How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.
But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.
He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.
You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,
"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."
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A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.
Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.
From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.
He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.
"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."
You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.
Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.
You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.
You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.
It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.
It is lonely here.
Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.
It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.
You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.
A statement that makes a shudder run through you.
You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.
But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.
And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.
You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.
"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"
His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.
"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."
You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.
You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.
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The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.
But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.
It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.
You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."
You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.
The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.
The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.
A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.
It's gruesome. Hopeless.
You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.
A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.
You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.
But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.
This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.
Death's throne.
This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.
A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.
You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.
Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,
"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."
You shake your head frantically.
"No! No, there will be no need for that!"
He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.
"Such a pity."
But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.
You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.
You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.
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You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.
It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,
"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."
And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.
You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.
The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.
"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."
The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.
When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.
You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.
No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?
You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.
You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.
He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.
"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."
There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.
He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.
You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.
He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.
He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.
His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.
There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.
You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.
You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.
And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.
You are a good bride.
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You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.
Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.
"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"
Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.
"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."
"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."
Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.
"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"
It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?
Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,
"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."
Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,
"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."
It makes sense.
You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.
It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.
That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.
It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.
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You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.
You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.
A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.
He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.
Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.
He is beautiful and terrifying.
You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.
Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.
As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.
When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.
His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.
When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,
"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."
You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.
One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.
You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.
When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.
His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,
"You're a good little bride."
You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.
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Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.
You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.
Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.
He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.
He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.
You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.
His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.
"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"
The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?
You look nervously at him,
"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"
He blinks at you and shrugs.
"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"
You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.
"I never learned how to read."
Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,
"Follow me."
He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.
You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.
It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.
"Sit."
Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.
You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.
"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."
Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?
At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.
Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.
He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.
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Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.
On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.
It is something he demanded from you.
"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."
At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.
But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.
By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.
There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.
It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.
He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.
He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.
In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.
Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.
Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.
Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.
You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.
A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.
You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.
This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.
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When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.
You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.
Almost.
But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.
And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.
You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.
You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.
You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.
He smirks at you,
"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."
You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.
Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.
When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.
Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.
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"Sukuna, look!"
You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.
You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.
You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.
Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,
"Why... why did you do this?"
His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.
"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"
He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.
Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?
It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.
"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"
"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"
"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"
You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,
"Forgive me, my Lord."
"I told you not to call me that."
You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.
Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.
You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?
You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.
That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.
You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.
"Don't run from me, brat."
A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.
"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"
"I never said that."
"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."
You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.
You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!
Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.
Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.
But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.
"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."
His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.
"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"
His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.
His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.
"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."
You blink at him in utter astonishment.
"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"
He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.
"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."
He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.
"But... But I.."
"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."
Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him. 
You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.
"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."
This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.
"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"
You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.
"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."
Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.
"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."
A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.
You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,
"Will you sing for me again?"
You smile at him and nod gently.
He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.
You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.
You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.
And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.
You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.
He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity. 
Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.
But Sukuna is unrelenting,
"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."
A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.
He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently. 
"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."
He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.
You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.
He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,
"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."
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"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"
Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.
He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.
You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.
"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."
Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,
"My bride is not only brave but also smart."
You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.
"Sukuna?"
"Yes, my love?"
"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."
His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I did."
"Is that what you want?"
"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."
"Then I will do so."
There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.
You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.
One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.
You are Death's Bride.
You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.
And he lets you.
He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!
I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!
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vivinomi · 5 months
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— bully!gojo x fem!reader x bully!geto x bully!shoko
c/w: noncon, foursome?, groping, sexual assault & harassment, bullying, fingering, slight fingering inside anus, nipple play, corruption kink, inexperienced & innocent reader (let me know what I'm missing)
a/n: this is the first part :D more parts coming soon! tho i'm quite busy this week and next week so this is gonna take long and this fic was inspired by bully satosugu fic
masterlist ✨
pt2 :)
1.5k w.c
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You should have known, you should know not to walk to other territories, it’s your fault for not paying attention to this college hierarchy – the one who has a lot of power gets the higher position in this college, they get respected and gained a lot of followers. By power means that they have to be strong, smart, pretty or popular. They can do whatever they want, it doesn’t matter if it’s legal or illegal as long as they don’t get caught.
Now, here you are, surrounded by a group of men grinning from ear to ear as they stare at your cute innocent face. In the college hierarchy, you’re one of the lowest of the lowest. Why? Because you’re a nerd, avid reader, interested in science, math and psychology stuff. But what makes you the most inferior is that you’re so shy, timid and aloof, you’re so naive to the point where Nanami and Haibara have to protect you from all those evil disgusting guys, mainly Nanami who did the job. You see good in every person including your good-for-nothing stepmother.
“What are you doing here all alone cutie?”, one of the guys mutters while brushing his finger with your soft hair. You clench your books tightly, hugging yourself as fear overtakes your body, steadying your breath. You’re nervous and scared, this never happened to you before and you didn’t know the danger you’re walking into. You’re about to speak until you feel a hand grabs onto your ass which makes you squirm. “Dang her ass is big”, the other guy said while groping your bum so inappropriately, making all the guys glance at you with hungry eyes.
“P-Please stop…”, you beg as you try to move away from the guy but then their faces turn into fear and quickly withdraw from you, the guy who’s fondling your ass just now, retreats and stands up straight, looking to his front like a soldier waiting for their captain’s order. You release your breath that you’ve been holding for a long and sigh in relief. It seems that their leader is here, you hope the leader will let you go or worse give you a warning.
You look up, wanting to take a peek at their leader and that’s where your blood runs cold. Your heartbeat quickens along with your nervous system's secreted adrenaline, telling you to run, but you couldn’t as you are frozen in space.
“Ohhhh y/n! What are you doing here??”, Gojo chimes and runs towards you like a happy child, wanting to hug you.
“Satoru, stop hogging her. Our poor y/n will be scared”, Geto frowns, looking at his best friend’s behaviour.
“Let him. I like to see her reaction”, Shoko huffs as she lets out a puff of smoke, smirking at you.
Gojo, Geto and Shoko were the reason you were living in hell during your school year. You didn’t remember anything good during your childhood. It started when you enrolled in your elementary school, Gojo would torment you by pulling harmless pranks like putting a big bug inside your bag, throwing a bucket of water at you and name-calling you. While Geto and Shoko just watched and laughed at your red face, they thought it was funny. At first, it was but then after a few pranks, you got tired of it. Gojo’s harassment escalated until Geto and Shoko joined in. Geto would ‘borrow’ your pencils, color pencils and brushes and claim them as his, there was another time when he secretly stole your stuff and manipulated you, saying that it was his. Whilst Shoko would make you do all of her homework and class cleaning duty.
When middle school started, you wished to not be in the same class as them but you’re unlucky and what’s worse was that you sat with them, in a group of four. All the teachers and classmates called the four of you cute for having a friend group and always being together. But what they didn’t know was that the harassment you experienced.
Then high school life started and that was your worst era, your body started to mature and their hormones started to act up, they assaulted you. They groped and touched your body oh so inappropriately every day except one day, you had to move away due to your father remarried another woman. You were happy because you couldn’t meet them anymore and be free from their torment forever… or so you thought.
Gojo happily jumps and embraces you into a tight hug and tosses your books aside, which causes you to tremble, your mouth dry along your throat. “Miss ya so much”, he murmurs, his hot breath fanning into your ear as he secretly slides his hand through your body just to grope your ass which makes you squeak in discomfort.
“G-Gojo… please-”
“Hmm?”, he slants to the right and twists his brow at how hard you try to push him away, he feels betrayed, why are you not happy seeing him? You should be jolly, he misses you a lot. “Come on we’re close enough. Call me Satoru”, he frowns. Uh oh it’s bad when Gojo is frowning, you remember that one time you made him upset because you purposely didn’t attend his 16th birthday party. That was the first and last.
“Satoru, I- ah.”, you slip out a moan as you feel big and long fingers caress your clothed slit, it was Geto’s.
“Miss your smell”, Geto sniffs your hair, completely enamoured with your smell while continuing rubbing your pussy. “And it’s been so long, sweetie”.
“Wow! Your tits are getting big!”, Shoko said as she drops her cigarette to the dirty floor and grabs both of your boobs and gives them a harsh squeeze.
“Ouch! S-stop!”, your plead fell on deaf ears as they continue to harass you the way they wanted. It’s too much, Gojo groping your ass, Geto playing with your slit and Shoko is busy with your boobs. The people that surrounded you are now gone as Shoko ordered them to leave so that they can have a little fun reunion with you.
“Please… Let me go”, you beg and hold onto Gojo’s shoulder as a support since your legs are shaking vigorously because of how fast Geto’s fingers are and Shoko rubs your hardened nipple through your cute blouse.
“No no no. It’s been so long since we last saw you. Might as well enjoy this reunion”, Geto speaks in a hushed tone, rubbing your cunt and drawing circles on your clit.
“No… not here-”
“Silly girl. This is our territory. No one will catch us”, Gojo murmurs as he’s already recovered from his mood swing and licks your neck, biting on it to leave a few marks.
“But even if they find us, you still like it don’t you”. You’re about to ask what Geto means by that and suddenly he slides your panty to the side and slowly inserts his middle and ring fingers inside your cunt. It’s so wet that it makes it easier for him to slide it in. You moan loudly, never experiencing this foreign feeling as your wall clenched onto his fingers for dear life.
“Suguru- stop!”
“Awww is our little y/n being shy??”, Shoko coos, sliding her hand under your blouse and caressing your erect nipple. “You enjoy being touched huh?”, she smirks.
“No- ah! Please!”, your eyes watered as you could feel the orgasm reaching you whenever Geto touched your sweet spot making a wet squeaking sound. Geto grins as he continues to finger the abused spot, creating a loud moan coming from your mouth and how you shake your head – trying to deny your orgasm, you didn’t want to show them the enjoyment you felt. Suddenly, you felt Gojo’s fingers slide under your skirt and insert his middle finger inside your ass hole and that’s where you lose it.
You moan as your orgasm came crashing and your juices drip from your pussy to your panty and thighs. Huffing and breathing heavily, trying to regain your consciousness – you never feel this way because you’re too innocent and scared of touching your own pussy. You once read that if you masturbate a lot, it will cause a lot of harmful effects on your body, so you didn’t do it.
Your legs give up after your first orgasm experienced and fall forward, but Gojo gladly catches you. “Tired hmm?”, his blue cerulean eyes shine brightly as he flashes a smile that makes your stomach churn. He gently kisses the top of your head as you look at him with drowsy eyes.
You regretted it, you regret walking into their boundaries and met your childhood bullies, and now they will never let you go. They will use you like a toy, like how it used to be. If only you could turn back time a few minutes ago, this wouldn’t happened and they would never have known your existance but now it’s too late. This is the first day of experiencing hell again.
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kingkonoha · 8 days
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ALONE || SATORU G.
♡ — SUMMARY: Yuji goes to Satoru for relationship advice, not knowing that the only love his teacher has ever known has been lost forever.
♡ — CONTENT: angst, mentions of reader’s death/dying during childbirth.
♡ — WC: 1.1k
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“Are you busy?”
Yuji’s worrisome voice caught Satoru’s attention. The white-haired man, who sat on an outdoor bench, lost in thought, curiously looked up at the teenager standing in front of him.
“Hm?” Satoru paused. “Nope, I’m not busy at all. Something wrong?”
When Yuji didn’t answer immediately — his brown eyes glaring at the concrete ground as a telltale sign that something was bothering him — Satoru nodded at the empty spot on the bench, inviting him to sit.
Without hesitation, Yuji sat down and slumped over.
“I’m having girl problems.”
“Oh?” Satoru raised his eyebrows. “Do you need pads or-”
“Hey! Not like that,” with a frown, Yuji buried his face in his hands, the tips of his ears turning red from utter embarrassment.
Coming to his teacher for advice in general was humiliating enough for him, but he couldn’t imagine that anyone else would have been able to help him out.
Satoru was one of the very few people he knew who seemed to think about life outside of being a jujutsu sorcerer and could potentially offer him some advice.
“There’s a girl I’m interested in. I really like her, ya know? But I’m not sure how I should ask her out. I wanted to go see Human Earthworm 3 with her, but Nobara said that most girls aren’t into stuff like that. But if I ask her to see a chick flick, then what if she gets mad at me for assuming she’d wanna see that stuff because she’s a girl? But if I ask her to pick a movie, then it might seem like I’m putting pressure on her to make all the important decisions because I don’t care enough or something. What should I do?”
Satoru smiled softly. Looking at his dear student was like looking at his own reflection. Years ago, he too was a teenager, frustrated and flustered over a girl.
“Well, there are a bunch of movies that aren’t chick flicks or creepy films that you could take her to see. You could suggest three films and have her pick one. That way, it shows that you care, but you don’t make the mistake of assuming what she’d like. Also, I’d recommend going to dinner after the movie instead of before, that way you both have something to talk about.”
Yuji glanced up at his blindfolded teacher and blinked, taking in the valuable advice.
“Right! Good idea!” Breaking out into a smile, Yuji said, “I knew I made the right decision by asking you!”
“You sure did. I’m an expert, you know.”
Yuji laughed softly. Suddenly, the upturned corners of his mouth slowly fell into a frown, and his eyebrows furrowed as a thought crossed his mind.
“Hey,” Yuji turned his head to face Satoru, his eyes squinting from the afternoon sunlight. “You’re not really an expert, are you? I’ve never seen you with anyone before. Are you in a secret relationship or something? What goin’ on?”
A gentle, sad smile graced Satoru’s face, his voice soft and tender as he spoke. “Nope, I’m all alone.”
“Oh.” Yuji dropped his gaze to his red shoes. “Wait a minute, what about that one lady you went to go see?”
“What lady?”
“Uh . . .” Scratching his cheek awkwardly, the teenager mumbled, “I kinda overheard you telling Nanamin that you were gonna buy flowers on your way to see . . . uh . . . I think her name was Y/N. That was about a week ago. What about her?”
Typically, Satoru wasn’t the sort of person to find himself at a loss for words. But, right now, his mind, body, and soul seemed to have disconnected, caused by a broken spirit.
He was quiet only for a moment, but it was long enough for Yuji to innocently look up at him with great concern.
A lump formed in Satoru’s throat, but he spoke anyway.
If there was one thing he excelled at, it was being able to function through his pain. He had years of experience with that sort of thing.
“You misunderstood. That’s what you get for eavesdropping,” Satoru suddenly removed his blindfold, ignoring the ache in his head when he did so. He brought the soft black fabric to his lips, and gently kissed it. You had given it to him. “Y/N was someone I was in love with. I met her when I was around your age. She died five years ago, and I was getting flowers before heading to her grave.”
“Oh man, that sucks. I’m really sorry,” A flash of guilt washed over Yuji’s innocent face. “I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s fine,” Satoru interrupted, locking eyes with his student. “It’s not like it’s a big secret or anything.”
The soft buzz of insects bouncing around in the nearby grass filled the silence as the sky darkened, the sun kissing the world goodbye. Satoru’s eyes flickered down to Yuji’s fidgeting hands, his fingers toying with the sleeve of his hoodie as he stared at the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Satoru questioned. He knew his student all too well and could tell that the younger boy was biting his tongue, quite both figuratively and literally.
“I was just wondering . . . how did she die? If that’s an okay thing to ask. You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t wanna. But I won’t lie, I’m curious, ya know?”
Satoru hummed, thinking about how death was a peculiar topic that the kind sorcerer was wholesomely interested in.
“Childbirth.”
“What?” Yuji’s spikey strands of hair shifted as he whipped his head in Satoru’s direction, eyes widening. “Seriously? That’s . . . I thought . . .”
“You thought she might have died in battle?” Satoru placed his blindfold back on, not to ease his aching eyes, but so Yuji wouldn’t see the tears starting to brim in his reddened waterline. “Sometimes we forget that sorcerers can die in other situations as well, don’t we?”
“Yeah.” Yuji didn’t know if it was okay to ask another question or not. Satoru spoke with misery coating his words. But curiosity was a thirst that couldn’t be easily quenched. “What was she like?”
A heartbroken smile graced Satoru’s face.
“Well, she was shyer than most. Kind. A good person. It was pretty funny, because she could kill curses and take down enemies, but she was always too nervous to ask for oat milk instead of whole milk in her lattes whenever we’d go to a local coffee shop. And she was lactose intolerant too, but still wouldn’t ask. She was a hugger, but really only towards me. Couldn’t stand pollen. Loved watching TV and reading short romance stories about fictional characters. She was so . . . I loved her more than I can express with words.” Satoru had to clear his throat. “I wish I could say she died peacefully, but she looked scared. Died right in front of me . . . trying to deliver my kid.”
Satoru thought about your teary, bloodshot eyes, shining with fear as you held on to him while lying helplessly in a hospital bed.
He was stroking your hair, telling you that everything would be okay when the light left your gaze, and suddenly, you were nothing more than a corpse.
Yuji was silent, but Satoru knew what his next question would have been: did the child survive?
“My kid didn’t make it either.”
“I’m sorry,” Yuji mumbled. “I wish I could fix it. I wish there was something I could do. But . . . I hope you find love again someday.”
“I don’t.” As Satoru spoke, a single tear fell. “If it’s not with her, I don’t want it. I’d rather be alone.”
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🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @insomniacbehaviour @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @thewondrousdreamer @levisfavoriteteashop @preciousamethyst @irisveinn @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace
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osachiyo · 8 months
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❝You will be mine forever until you perish.❞ ✧ ೃ༄
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—300 (meant to be 200) FOLLOWERS EVENT!
—PAIRING ✰ ZHONGLI x FEM!READER
—CONTENT WARNINGS ✰ explicit smut,noncon, yandere tendencies, mentions of kidnapping, baby trapping, delusional zhongli, unprotected sex, spanking, etc.
—WORDCOUNT ✰ 1.5k
—CHARACTER CHOSEN BY ✰ @lxverss
—EVENT MASTERLIST & RULES ✰
. . . . MINORS DO NOT INTERACT . . . .
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Zhongli's gloved hand came down to your ass harshly for the 18th time tonight, making you bite his thigh in pain. He only chuckled darkly at your feeble attempt of hurting him. His hand slowly smoothes down the skin of your ass, the plump flesh jiggling in his big hand as he admires the reddish tint his brutal hits left behind. The handprints evident on your plump behind. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears but fucking god did it hurt.
Your muffled cry could be heard when his hand came down on your ass again, the impact stinging even more this time. He shushed your pitiful noises with a mocking smirk, making the tears in your lashline finally fall down your swollen cheeks. "Does it hurt, darling?" He asked with faux sympathy, making you even more enraged. You wanted to scream at him, pull on his hair for ruining your life like this. But you stayed silent, clutching onto him for dear life as he hummed. "Just one more to go, my love. Your punishment will be over soon enough." You grit your teeth in anger. Punishment for what? Trying to escape from this hellhole of a prison he has kept you in? Tears flowed freely down your chin in frustration, soaking his pants. You hated him. Despised this man who took you away from your family, from your normal life. But you hated the fact that you were aroused right now. Aroused from being forcibly bent over his knee and hit by none other than your captor. You felt the shame burn in your tear soaked cheeks, which only made the bulge pressing into your lower tummy harder, bigger.
This time the hit wasn't just on your ass, he smacked the back of your thighs which he knew were sensitive, worsening the pain. You almost jumped out of his lap from the mere force, a broken sob leaves your throat as he only coos at you, praising you for being a good girl for him. He lifted you up and settled you down on the bed, on your tummy because your ass was swollen from the hits. He rubbed your cheeks, even spreading them a little to sneak a view of your pussy and god were you soaked. He smiled, rubbing a finger up and down your pretty folds as you try to squirm away from him but his firm grip is holding you in place. "You act like you dislike it, dear. But can you tell me why you're absolutely leaking down here, hm?" He spoke softly whilst gently rubbing your clit as if to make up for the harsh behaviour only a moment ago. You buried your face further into the silk covered pillow, lips wobbling as you try not to moan from him playing with your greedy cunt. Your mind was telling at you to kick him away, disgust filling your senses. But your body on the other hand was enjoying what the man did to it, much to your dismay.
He raised your hips up, your swollen ass now sticking out in the air while your face was still buried in the pillow. You whined softly when Zhongli kicked your legs open, forcing his leg between them. The rough material of his pants grinding on your already leaking cunt, a damp spot forming on his sleek pants while you writhed in a confusing mixture of rage and pleasure. He pulled back suddenly, lowering himself, now face level with your leaking cunt as you squirm in discomfort. He gently pats your lower back, as if you comfort you. The thought makes you want to scoff. He puffed a warm breath right on your pussy, making you clench around nothing as you feel your eyes tear up again. You were nothing but a slave now. Nothing but his property. Not like you can right back either, as it was a contract between the two of you. Your train of thought cut off as Zhongli kicked a fat stripe up your cunt with his dragon-like tongue, a gasp escaping your mouth. He groaned into your pussy, mumbling something about how good you taste. The vibrations of his voice make you shiver, more of your slick soaking his chin as he laps up what your cunt offers him. The sweet, sweet honey like fluid dripping out of you with each lick and suck, it has him impossibly hard. If you weren't too distracted by how fucking good his long tongue feels shoved in your sensitive core, you'd notice how the way he was humping the bed right now. The tip of his cock leaking with precum as he gets addicted to your divine taste. He pulled his tongue out, fat fingers now replacing the muscle as he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, making you claw the sheets as a broken moan escapes your throat. The rough leather wrapped around his fingers adding a addictive friction in your tight heat, all while he sucks on your pretty little clit so fucking nicely.
"Cum for me, won't you? I know you will. You're my good little girl, aren't you?" He chuckled, his voice a few octaves lower as thick desire coats every word that flows out of his sinful mouth. You don't answer, that earns you a harsh slap against your clit, making you cry out in sudden pain. "Answer, pet."
You chant his name over and over again, pleas and sobs of "y-yes! 'm cummin' so hard! Don't stop-" your eyes rolled back as he sped up the pace of his fingers, curling them just right to make you gush all over his fingers and tongue, even soaking the lower half of his face as he laps up all you have to offer. He helps you ride out your orgasm as you collapse against the sheets, huffing in exhaustion. But you knew he wasn't done yet. Not by the way you could hear his belt hitting the floor as he flipped you on your back, a growl erupting in his chest as he pushed your legs back, your thighs squishing against your pretty breasts, the position making it slightly hard to breath.
He tapped the blunt and swollen head of his cock against your clit one, two, three times before finally pushing in with a pop! You both groan in unison, the thick head splitting you apart. You panted out like a bitch in heat when he started dragging his cock slowly in your cunt, pushing in slowly. As much as he liked to see you in pain, he knew he’s fucking huge. So he had to go slow to not tear your pussy apart. He stared intensely at your cunt opening right up for him, taking his cock like a champ. He rubbed delicate circles on your clit with his thumb, trying to distract you from the scorching hot pain of his cock splitting you in half. He let out a low growl when he finally pushed himself all in your cunt, burying his cock to the hilt. Fat tear droplets that once clung to your lash line now fell on the silken sheets as you clutch the pillow as tight as you can. You hiccuped when he pulled back, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming into you again. You could feel every ridge and vein on his throbbing shaft, bumping against your sweet spot oh so effortlessly while all you can do is writhe and whine below him. It didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, now slamming into your can with such intensity it had you seeing stars. His finger still skilfully stimulating your hardened clit as he grinned wickedly, his canines showing and eyes glowing a golden hue.
Your eyes widened when you felt his cock getting even bigger in you, stretching your velvety walls beyond their limits as you squirted all over his cock, your slick covering his lower abdomen and thighs, the glossy substance rubbing down his fat balls as he groaned at the sight, pushing all of his body weight on you. “Fuck- take my cum, darling, Gonna make you such a sweet mommy. You want that, don’t you? All fucked and swollen with my- ah shit- all fucked and swollen with my kids… yeah? Take my cum- take it. You’ll be mine forever until you perish! ” He babbled, growling as he dove down to bite your neck hard, drawing blood as he filled you up with his seed.
Once you both came down from your highs, he plopped next to you, shoving a pillow underneath your legs to keep all of his sticky release inside of you. But alas, there was just so much of it that it dribbled out from your pussy, soaking the sheets even more, if possible. Zhongli only sighed, patting your head and kissing your temple as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
He was right.
You were going to be his forever.
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—AUTHORS NOTE ✰ you can request the next character for this event in my inbox anytime! thanks for reading y’all! Please comment on this post if you want to be added in the tag list for this series!
—TAGLIST ✰ @luvyein
©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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theroyalyandere · 10 months
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smutty yandere dilf! emperor? 😍😍 reader is like a servant or something jsjsjsjs
yandere!dilf!emperor x female!servant!reader smutty 18+
cw: dark content, child neglect, alcohol abuse, breeding, inappropriate touching, jealousy, torture, dub-con, mentions of pregnancy and lactation
a/n: to people who see this post, don't like? then don't read
imagine attending as a servant to the emperor who was taken by grief with the lost of his wife
you notice how he drowns himself in alcohol leaving his work to the butlers and other lords
even neglecting his only child, who you can see was sadden by the situation of losing their mother then their father to drinking
the emperor was too drunk to pay attention to you, although you are mostly the one who takes care of him because you tolerate anything that comes into your way
whether he throws a fit or vomit all over, you chose to endure it because of necessity
whenever you have time for yourself, you often find the young child of the emperor all alone, playing by the gardens or at their mother's empty room
the servants and guards attending to the child or passing by would look at the child with pity in their eyes thinking they are going to be doomed for life
having enough of seeing the sad prince/princess, you took it upon yourself to take care of them
you approached the child who was wary but eventually warmed up to you
days went by and the young prince/princess would often follow you like a duckling to it's mother
you adore the little kid and everyone can see it, the smile coming from the prince/princess was enough to make anyone's day bright
the news of his own child being fond of another person reached the ears of the emperor
he was in the middle of throwing a fit when you did not attend to him
the poor guard assigned to him had to inform him how you are currently attending to the his child which explains why you are late
he got a little sober and asked to show where you are
he soon dressed a little more decently albeit still smelling like alcohol and his appearance messy, he still went to find you
the guard lead the way until the emperor comes into a view where you are playing with the prince/princess along with a couple of servants
he watches at how loud his child's laughter are and the glow of your face
he feels his heart beat as if he has fallen in love again
you were nudge and turn to look at the emperor gracing you with his presence
you immediately stop tickling the young child and bow to him
words of apology came out of your lips profusely, stumbling over your words as you look down fearing for the worst
he only asked you to stand up and inspects you
your doe eyed stare makes his insides turn into mush
the young prince/princess turning to you pulling your hand to play again
the emperor looks down at his child who hid behind you from being unfamiliar with their very own father
he kneels down at the level of his child, it pains him how terrible he must've been for neglecting the sweet child his dead wife left behind
he apologizes for his behavior and promises to be on his best
the emperor saw how the little boy/girl would look up to you asking for approval to which you gave them a nod
the kid reluctantly agrees
he then turns to you apologizing and thanking you for taking care of the little one
since that day, it changed the way he looks at you
there's constantly a guard by your side especially when you are with the young child
the emperor keeps an eye on you at times
monitoring your routine
sending gifts and goods to your way
his obsession worsens day by day
he would slowly began to show interest with you
the emperor would drop his bad habits hoping you would see him in a different light
he does want to change but he can't the itching of his mind and hands to be on you
he quits alcohol and now you are his new addiction
he spends more time joining you and his only child
to sneakily get closer to you, learning about your interests and background
it makes him fall deeper in-love with you
his advances would become obvious to everyone, everyone except you
too focused on your duties to even noticed the emperor following you like a puppy
he grew even more jealous and would often take people secretly to torture
the next time you encounter those people, they would only scurry away than interact with you which places you in an odd position
he tunes it up even more through 'accidental' touches
he figures that he loves it when he's close to you, inhaling your scent almost delicious enough to taste you
he's hoping to get more so he permanently assigned you to him when you are not spending time with his child
his company intimidates you as you always feel his heated gaze
eyes scanning down from your head to toe, licking his lips while doing so
the emperor would often cage you in his arms or simply grabbing you by the waist
you get surprised everytime he does
when he couldn't handle it anymore he pins you in place and asks if you can't see how much he's pining for you
you shake your head no and he grins
"I will show you how much I want you to be mine."
he starts kissing you, making you whimper in the process
he makes you wrap your arms around him
kissing you so roughly almost taking your breath away
he rips your dress off making you yelp but he does not break the kiss
the emperor's hands would reach over to rub his palms over your skin
his touch leaves a trail of goosebumps and you feel heated
he breaks of the kiss and his lips travel south to suckle on your nipples
he plays with your breasts, teasing them and pinching them
he chuckles as he hears your whines
"patience, wouldn't be lovely if your lovely breasts swell with milk after I filled you with child?"
his words surprises you, making you worry but your mind is overtaken by lust
"yes please my emperor."
you say sultrily successfully seducing him with a sentence alone
he gets you and him naked
he feels how wet you are for him but decides that it isn't enough for him to let you accomodate to his size
so he scissors your walls with his fingers, rubbing and thrusting until his palms feel your clit
you whine and thrash around as you feel pleasure all over
back arching as he sings praises for how you're doing so well for him
you take the pleasure he gives you and soon comes undone with his hands
he pulls his hands out of your sore pussy, then brings his slick coated fingers to your lips
"open your mouth and suck it."
you comply and suck and lick slick of your release on his fingers
you taste your arousal making you clench your thighs which does not go unnoticed by him
he positions his body between your legs, grabbing you to feel you even closer
he looks down at you with lust
thrusting into you without warning
he groans at the tightness surrounding him almost rendering him motionless with how you squeeze his cock
he starts to thrust slow then suddenly went fast
you moan loudly as he fucks you hard
eyes rolling back to the back of your head
your brain shutting off from the stimulation you are receiving
he rams his cock into you with no mercy, overstimulating your clit in the process
he groans out that he is going to cum he rubs your clit with his thumb
fucking you even harder as you squeal
he thrusts so fast until he cums with a loud groan by your ear
you have your second orgasm with him filling your womb with his seed
he pulls out to see how his cum drips, he pushes it back with a thumb letting you moan a little softly
He cuddles you and you snuggle right back
You immediately fall asleep with exhaustion
he whispers in your ear that you are going to be his and his only
the emperor is determined to make you take the seat of the queen to raise his children and be his wife
he wants you to swell up with his kids marking you as his
for now he let's you rest and those plans with be continued for another day
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bakubunny · 1 day
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tamaki bnha blueberry!! maybe like daddy kink?
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hi dear! i tried dming you on this to get some clarification because i don’t consider daddy kink by itself to be dark content. that being said, i hope you enjoy. <3
tw: dark content, implied age play/fauxcest, daddy kink
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name: amajiki tamaki
order: blueberry pie
blueberry: tamaki isn’t as timid as he seems; he hides a lot under the surface because he’s afraid of failure. how does that play out the first time yan!tamaki hears your sniffly cries for “daddy” when he’s teased you too long? he snaps. he needs complete control moving forward and forces you to be helplessly dependent on him. there’s gaslighting and manipulation that goes far beyond “no cumming without daddy’s help.” no, he’ll swap your toothbrush heads with ones that won’t fit, so you have to ask him for help getting it on. but when he comes in to save the day, somehow it works on the first try. you can’t put on your own shoes. you can try velcro ones if you’re lucky, but he’s got an extra pair that secures properly while he gives you velcro shoes with both wrong sides. if you’re being really obstinate, tamaki won’t even let you take a piss without his help. he’s going to wipe your ass, and that’s if he’s feeling generous.
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bunny’s bakery (closed)
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d10nyx · 7 days
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over again
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names
a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.
word count: 1.6k words
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14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.
Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.
Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.
You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.
It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.
But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.
“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.
“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.
“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.
“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”
He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.
“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.
You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.
You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.
“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”
A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.
You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.
“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.
“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.
“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.
“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”
His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.
“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.
Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.
Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.
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