TW:smut! cum play (?), cum eating, unprotected sex, pure fucking filth, do tell me if missed any
gojo satoru who doesn‘t want kids but doesn‘t pull out either.
mindlessly, he thrusts into you as if his life depends on it. his eyes are closed, head thrown back with his hands on the small of your back pressing it down, forcing your back to arch.
it hasn‘t been remotely long since your last orgasm, and another one is loading inside you. it’s all caused by the natural arch of his thick cock that keeps hitting your g-spot, causing you become delirious with every passing second.
“‘tooru—” you sweetly moan, tongue already losing it‘s place in your mouth. meanwhile, the white haired man behind you keeps moaning, barely hearing your voice over his as he whines.
“j- just a bit more pretty.” he pants, both hands moving to your waist as his thrusts become rather sloppy and deeper as he shudders with every thrust, feeling your walls tighten around him sweetly.
you shudder, feeling his cock pulse inside you, going deeper with every thrust, his hands clawing at your waist as he chases that sweet release that washes over him in no time.
you both moan so lewdly. his sweet voice leaving past his lips as he stills, dumping his cum inside of you. you stop as well, feeling his liquid inside you. all that stickiness feeling well inside of you, spurting and painting your walls white.
“fuck baby,” he moans.
though he did dump himself inside of you without a care, he doesn‘t want kids, and you don‘t feel prepared yet. you‘re not on birth control, and neither is he.
you sigh in pleasure as you feel him pull out, white cum that belongs to him and you wrapped around his pretty cock. gojo swallows thickly before he grabs your waist and flips you to your stomach.
“alright baby, you know what to do,” he looks up at you, your tired yet smutty eyes meeting his lust filled ones as you nod.
his hand moves to the lower part of your stomach as he watches your cunt with lust in his eyes. you prop yourself on your shoulders as you look down at him between your legs, you smirk lightly before you push.
with one hard push from you and a light pressure from his hand, dribbles of his cum drip from your pussy. you moan, feeling his fingers ghost on the lips of your cunt, opening it to reveal more of you pushing all his seed out of you as best as you possibly can.
and when you feel like can‘t anymore, he‘ll sweetly smile at you, saying “oh don‘t worry, i can help you with that.” then, his long, slender fingers will delve into your pussy.
your throw your head back as his fingers rake the walls of your cunt, bringing the remnants of his cum out of your pussy. and when he sees his middle and ring finger glisten with cum when he takes them out, he‘ll waste no time and put them into his mouth. he does that all while he looks at you, looking lewdly before his fingers go back in.
when he finds that his fingers can no longer pick out anything, he‘ll prop his mouth before you glistening cunt and stick his tongue straight into you. best part is when you‘ll take his hair and push your cunt straight to his mouth. he‘ll smirk, grabbing your thighs and straight up lick you in the inside. he calls this process ’just making sure’ to make sure that there is no more cum in your cunt, to ensure that there will be no babies coming your way.
and when he‘s down with taking all remnants of his white potent seed out of you, he‘ll crawl over to you and dangle his cock before your mouth. of course, you naturally will eat up and lick him. you‘ll eat the mixture of yours and his ecstasy clean.
and when you‘re done, you two will share a cute deep kiss, tasting each other. <3
oh, how can one be so beautiful?gojo satoru asks himself.
his blue eyes are illuminated by the sun rays as he stands there admiring you, though he does not stand further than seven feet away from you. his lips are churned upwards with his fingers holding the bouquet of flowers tight, heart beating faster by the second as he simply watches with joy, adoration, and fascination in his gaze.
he cannot stop himself from admiring the sigh before his ocean eyes.
not once in his twenty-seven years of living did he ever think he would find someone reading a book so intriguing, yet here he is: doing just as he thought he never would.
you look so beautiful to him. figure beneath the trees as the wind compliments the way your hair flows with it, feet laid out with your back pressed against the wooden body of the tree. such a simple sight, yet so breathtaking in his eyes.
as he stands there underneath the spring sun, you finally look up from your book and spot the white haired man who admires you from not-so afar. a smile cannot help but etch on your face as he walks over with his hand running through his hair.
“hello amore,” his voice is like honey, sweet and smooth as he hands you the bouquet of pink roses. “for you.” it cannot be helped that there is a slight blush is on his cheeks as he watches you take the flowers and bring it up to your nose to smell the batch, to him you just look so beautiful even as you do the most mundane action.
“thank you, darling.” you say your thanks before you settle it to your lap and usher him to kneel before you, and he does as asked. when he is there on his knees before you, you lean forward and press a sweet kiss against his lips.
sure, gojo satoru may be the strongest man to ever walk this planet, but when he is with your presence: he is nothing but a man who yearns for your love.
so when he feels your lips against his, it‘s just natural for him to fall at ease and press further as his hand moves to hold your cheek. blue eyes fluttering close as when feels your fingers on his nape. all the butterflies in his stomach erupt as his heart beats erratically for you.
sometime, everybody will love someone, and something in your kiss told gojo satoru, his sometime is now.
Warnings : unrequited love, arranged marriage, manipulation, minor character’s death, and more to add. Read with proper discretion < 3
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
Sooooo, yeah. I’ve been rooting for gojo for a while now and this kinda happened. Your feedbacks really help me through the whole process so please feel free to empty your mind, I’m always receptive. Also, big thank you to @tawus who has been adamant on giving the greatest pieces of advice, ily girl <3
Overall thank you for reading, and I hope you’re enjoying reading as much as I’m enjoying writing the story !!
First written in French, translated by the amazing @deadpanap
↳ Choices we’re bound to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way, maybe should you have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem.
“You know damn well that you don’t have to do this, lil’ sis. The trips, running away from missions, all of that, I like it! You should stop listening to each and every word our parents say” says your eldest, leaning by the doorframe of the room that used to be yours for twenty long years.
“Yuki…I’m not worried about you, they’re in danger too. Every person that’s cross with you would know exactly where to hit, I’m sure that just the name alone -Gojo- would be enough to dissuade them. It’s just a wedding, an alliance, also he doesn’t seem all that terrible; we might hit it off.”
With this, you close your luggage. You hadn’t decided to bring much with you: some clothes, photos of your family and some of your friends. You never had any attachment, living your life as though you were its omniscient narrator: so present yet so far away. That was part of the reason why you couldn’t see this marriage as a drama anymore , you didn’t intend to make any emotional investment. You would promise faithfulness, obedience and descendants to your spouse, in exchange he would offer you protection and safety. It was as though life was offering you a chance to live a fairy tale.
However, the choices that we’re led to make in life don’t always turn out well, and you would have to learn that the hard way. Finally, maybe you should have listened to your sister when she tried to dissuade you from marrying a man that you didn’t know, as charming as he might seem. Maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated your marital responsibilities.
Because after all, the most beautiful tales are those with the most tragic endings.
A CHECKERED FLAG AND BURNING IRON - Chapter One (2.1k)
~ The tale of a Final Girl and life after her starring role, oh, and Gojo’s there too. But for how long will his hand be able to hold on to Her’s when shes forever changed from who he knew, and can he keep up?
~ A Final Girl/Slasher tale, American College AU, Street Racer!Gojo X Outcast/Final Girl!Reader
~ Warnings: Horror/Slasher movie themes and subjects, PTSD, mentions of sexual activity, non-con, kidnapping, bullying, blood, fighting/physical injury
~ Author’s Declaration: The concept of Street Racer! Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Ryomen Sukuna are borrowed with permission from @minouyujisPOST . Also, I have never been to American college and never written horror, so, please forgive me if this is a bit “trope/movie” heavy. This is mostly me writing a love letter/write poetry to my love of horror movies and psychological elements of fiction. Yes, there is a romance plot in this… somewhere… I’m sure you’ll find it. I’m here to have fun and hope you join me on this journey, cause Spooky Season is all year round for me! (And many of the JJK characters ages are played around with to suit the story, I will try to reference their ages or School level/grade) . Slow burn for the first few chapters, please bare with me while I lay the foundations of this spooky house.
CHAPTER ONE – (word count: 2.1K)
You couldn’t stop the shaking of your limbs, your fingers ached as they gripped the foil sheet over your shoulders. Was it cold? Too hot? Your skin and what remains of your clothes are sticky and damp. Your vision blurry and sounds around both too loud and impossible to decipher. You couldn’t focus on the paramedic looking you over and trying to check your vitals and mental capability. All the faces around you twist and fade into beiges, tans, and browns. Blending into their own skins and the forest dark behind you all.
But what you could see clearly, what you could not tear you vision away from, was the part of the forest you came from. A tunnel of focus and burning inside your lungs. Still, it called back to you to return. The sharpness of adrenaline still pounding in your mind, your arms, your legs, and feet. Run. Run? Where?! It doesn’t matter! Just move! HE’s still out there! HE can see you! HE can catch you! You can’t rest! HE’s going to get you again and NEVER let you go! You know what happened to the others! Run away and…!
BANG, BANG, BANG! Shots from a gun, maybe more, echo and sing alongside the strong and fierce barks of dogs, shouting from men you can’t make out. All bringing you back down to a single point. Here, sitting in the back of an ambulance, you didn’t even notice being brought into the all too bright and white cage. The bed beneath you soft as the paramedic lays a hand ever so gently on your shoulder to encourage you back down into the bed. Eyes wide on their hand, but you followed. Still unsure of where you are and what is happening you let your body win. Burning muscles and aching bones crying out for rest, for stillness, for comfort. As you look up above you, tears you though you could no longer cry flow through. “It’s all over now, Kid, you’re okay” is the only thing you finally recognize before your mind gives into the demands of your body. You cry and gasp for air. You don’t know when you had fallen to slumber, but it wasn’t a slumber of your own. It was cold and bitter on your tongue, but you had to let it answer to the call of your body. You were no longer in HIS grasp. It’s safe now. It’s okay now. You’re safe now. You can go home now…
- Two Weeks Earlier -
Your eyes burned and begged for the sweet relief of moisture, your back and rear begged for anything but this seated position in the old thin chair, and your brain begged for death. If this assignment wasn’t going to be the death of you, you’d be surprised and by a lottery ticket. It’s May of your second year of college, you’ve recently turned 20, and there isn’t much of this semester left to go. But three more assignments stand in your way, including this one… If you have to look at one more damned article about how a Human Resources department works (or doesn’t work?), you’re going to go insane. You’ve written more today than you expected to, you had a short class earlier that day about Marketing in the digital age, and nothing social planned for the daytime.
So, you opened your window, put on a lo-fi playlist for studying (You know the one, dear Reader), and forgot about your cup of tea hours ago. At least your sugary iced coffee wasn’t forgotten and it watched you work so hard on your assignment, from its corner on the desk. Second hand, scratches and chipped clear coat. You always kept saying you would sand it and recoat it, promised it even, as this desk has become your solo dorm room’s staple resident (along with your bed, of course). For study, gaming, drawing, crying, dining, painting, make-up application on rare occasions, and a piece of home. Your family home was an hour’s drive away, just far enough from the college city of your state to be safe from too many stressed out, hormone fueled, caffeine addicted young “adults”. But it was still a big enough city to have plenty of opportunity for you, if you chose to settle there one day.
But you had a goal with your childhood friend, Kokichi Muta (You knew his nickname and gamertag most: Mechamaru). He was a tech prodigy, with dreams to join the likes of Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Elon Musk. He craved discovery and development, and he was damn good at it. But such things take time and money. So, with extensive research over the past couple of years from his tech internship right out of High School, he decided the best steps to build up, would be to grow within a successful company, and then start his own cyber security business. This would, hopefully, lay the foundation for a bigger business that would allow him to then grow and pay for what he really craved, research and development of the next big tech break throughs.
You two had always been the odd ones out, which is why you stuck together. You’d seen him grow and build the most amazing things. The two of you working together to win robotics competitions, with him designing and building, and you offering odd points of view that lead him to great inspirations. Which is why he let you do the talking, promoting, scouting for said competitions and contests, and what colours to decorate his creations with. Even though he always hated your design choices. Your argument was to help stand out and adding to the performance. Maybe that’s why your contact name (and emoji) in all his gear is “Clown”. All with love of course. The recognition and success in your team up lead to you both receiving scholarships. Him more than you. So far, he had yet to claim his prize. Stating his impatience for such “useless, wasted time”. He dove in head first, while you weren’t sure where to go. You took up a good job at an electronics retailer for a few years to find yourself out a little. When Kokichi finally had a dream and plans, and asked you to once again be his voice and right-hand man, you got right into it.
You knew learning Business Administration would not suit your style, but it was a goal when you didn’t have one. And your parents agreed that if Kokichi didn’t quite make it like you two were planning, it was a financially wise career path. Ew. But it made them happy so they would support you and Kokichi promised he’d let you dress however you wanted, and would build you up to have minions to dress proper and do your dark bidding for you, unless there was an important business meeting with normal (read: boring, old, rude) business men that you would have to attend. All this came back to your mind as you were leaning back in your chair and looking at the photo on the wall of you two from one of your high school science fair wins.
A startling chime to your left brought you back down from the clouds and back into that old worn chair. Its contact name of “Dumbass #1” brought a frown to your mouth.
“What do you want, asshole?” you asked to your room. You didn’t want to read the text, but your Mom was always a “It could be important” kind of person and it rubbed off on you.
‘Asshole #1: Hey, ding-dong, try to look nice for once tonight’
You still don’t know how Suguru Geto got your number, you boyfriend swears it wasn’t him, said he wanted you all to himself. For someone who has declared his apparent ‘love’ for you, Satoru Gojo was blind to the way his friends talked to you. Then again, you’ve always hesitated to show him the text messages, fearful it might make you look like a nagging and whiney girlfriend. Hell, it blows your mind how you two are even together.
Satoru Gojo, Junior year of Business Management, courses designed for future CEOs. His family came from old money in finance and big bank business and he was expected to follow the family tradition. He only agreed to finally go to college and follow his Father’s expectations when he was threatened to be cut off. Only a couple of years older than you, but quite the handful of a man child. How he passed with his lack of focus to his education and focus on his number one hobby, you’ll never know.
Ah yes, His first love, cars. Fast cars. Street racing kept him sane and was his only spiritual calling. His garage was filled with five high end machines. Lovingly cared for and somehow, never taken of caught by the cops. You know he’s doing shady shit to keep out of trouble, while also committing trouble. Not a circus you want to get involved in, he can have that to himself.
You’re not sure why he took notice of you late last year, or why he pursued you. You kept to yourself and a select few, didn’t stand out too much, kept tidy, didn’t both much with too many parties or got involved in gossip. You were polite and kind to your class mates, and no one particularly disliked you. You were a bit of a background/filler character. And that suited you, helped keep you focused and relaxed, stress causes early wrinkles and high blood pressure. You’d rather keep those things for your 40’s. Maybe that’s why he took interest. He claims you’re pretty, calm, and keep up with his humour and childish ways. Things he liked about you. But he also uses you to fuel his need for affection and attention too. Stern and cold upbringing and all. So far, you’re the longest relationship he’s ever had. You rejected his advances and requests for a date three times before you gave him a shot. You knew he was a playboy before meeting him. A few classmates would swoon between classes if they passed him, and sing his praises from time to time. Usual popular King of school things you did not want to mess with.
Mind you, he’ll still flirt and ogle at women, and quietly at some men, even when you’re with him. He’ll turn to you like its nothing and demand your focus. You hated it at first, but now it’s just like a mild burn to your pride and self-confidence. From time to time, behind closed doors, he’ll apologise lightly. But it’s better than when you first met him. Early on you were shy to voice your concerns, but you too got better with putting your foot down. In public, he’ll keep his hand on your back, or waist, or in your hand. He’s given quite a bit of lip to those who have tried to get your attention when you’re out. But that little bit of possessiveness helps reassure yourself that he really does only want you. And here you are, after sorting out a light dinner for yourself you returned to your dorm to get ready for a long night out. You had early classes the next day and wanted to sleep, but Gojo was racing tonight and would frequently drag you with him. Dressing up like Gojo’s usual (previous) type of girl was not your thing. Clubbing girls and racing groupies are not your kind of friends or circles.
You’d at least wear a pair of short black heals, and that slimming biker style jacket Gojo bought you the other month. Gave yourself a bit of a Sandy from ‘Grease’ vibes… Oh gawd, you just realised how close you and Gojo are to Danny and Sandy from ‘Grease’. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry in embarrassment. Another chime from your phone, followed by two more in rapid succession, you know only two people who text in fast short bursts.
‘The Boi: Pumpkin! My Sweetheart!!! : D’
‘The Boi: Your shining Prince arrives soon for his fair maiden!!’
‘The Boi: I missed you and I expect kisses TODAY WAS TOO HARD! I HATE NUMBERS’
‘The Boi: Pumpkin? Where are my replies of your never-ending love for me?’
‘You: You better not text and drive, idiot. You can get your attention when you show up <3 I did miss you too’
Another night of racing is going to be killer on your stomach and nervous system, but it was something special he didn’t share with many others. He may have had quite a few women in his car before you, but you’ve been in ALL of his cars and even have driven a few. A light amount of make-up to compliment your eyes, and a deep breath to brace yourself for the bullshit of Gojo’s jealous fan-girls and rude ‘Friends’. Another night in your slice of college life
— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
— this man is literally a menace. if he finds out that you’re in your period, he would totally and utterly piss you off. he never fears death, but deaths do.
he saw you hugging the pillow and gripping the bedsheets due to the pain you’re experiencing at the moment, he went near you abd comforted you. the moment he has his hands on your waist, he laughed, “if i squeeze you like this,” he squeezed your waist, “you’re like a human ketchup,” his voice was so normal, no laughing, just a normal voice.
you slammed the pillow on his face, “if you’re here to piss me off, go sleep in the couch! i ain’t sleeping with a useless boyfriend.” You said in an angry tone.
But in the end, he took care of you, and cuddled you when you were asleep.
— he may be not affectione in the outside due to the endless teasing he got from both of your peers, megumi doesn’t want to be disturbed whenever you two had an alone time. To his luck, your period started on both your your day off from missions. He really takes care of you. It was his duty after all as your loving boyfriend.
“‘gumi..” you lowly said in a soft tone.
he shited his eyes in you, “did tge pain go away?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, “i need cuddles.”
“But the pain y/n-”
“pretty please?”
from the cute voice you had, made him closed his book and cuddled you, “is this better?”
“better than ever, thanks 'gumi..”
“hmm, you’re welcome.”
— we love life and life is yuuji. he’s realkya sweet boyfriend despite getting ruined because if sukuna in him. but besides taht, he really did his best! the time you got your monthly period, he was right there with you, he even cooked you his meatball recipe just make you feel better.
“Mhmm! this really tastes good!” You said while muching the meatball. You took another bite, bht instead, you choked. yuuji immediately grabbed the water bottle and gave it to you.
'i was hoping you could choke and die.’
a dark voice popped ot right under his eye, yuuji slapped it but instead, he was too late and ended up slapping himself. Youblet out a giggle, “sukuna is so bitter, did he have a past lover when he was a human?”
'shut your mouth you lowly human, i have no time when i will slash your head off.’
— no questions needed for him. he was already a husband material what can we say. For the rarest time of his life, he took a day off. knowing him, he was a very hard-working mab who follows the rules and hates overtime. Just like megumi, he has his responsibility as a boyfriend to take care of his lover.
he prepared everything: heat bag, blankets, pillows, favorite snack, and himself. he would massage you scalp until you have fallen asleep. and sometimes, you and him will watch sonething on netflix, whether its your favorite show or the show that you both planned to watch together. even though no words were exchanged throughout the time, his actions are enough to tell you that he really cares for you.
“i love you, kento.
"i love you too.”
— being in a long distance, was quite hard for the both of you. he craves your touch, your whispers, and you overall. but things may have a problem when you had your perioid. he kelt call you, texting you constanly if you’re any feeling better.
He called you many times that you lost count.
“y/n! Make sure to take your vitamins and pain killers okay?”
“I will yuuta, trust me, i’ll be fi— crap crap cramps.”
and that’s whenhe get started to worry about you. “are you okay? Take a rest y/n, oh ny god, sleep, take a rest!”
“Im okay yuuta, don’t worry about me. this literally happens every month,” you reassured him. It was cute of him, worrying about you. Even though you can see him, but he was pouting, “i jut want you yo be safe that’s all”, he replied.
“When you comeback here, we’ll go on dates. promise?”
summary:the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife’s infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you’re chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, royal au, based off of the story from 1001 arabian nights
word count:10.7k+
warnings: dark content, mdni, 18+,mentions of killing, mentions of taking virginity, has the gallows and a noose in it, praise!kink, corruption!kink, cunnilingus, fingering, cum eating
note:for those who don’t know, baba means dad, and aziz/azizammeans my dear in farsi. this story loosely follows 1001 arabian nights, but not completely. i wasn’t gonna sit on my ass and write them all out
also a big, big, thank you to @jadeisthirstingfor beta reading, ty sm bby!!
The palace smelled deeply of rose petals, a scent so distinctly comforting that you couldn’t help but smile giddily as you walked down the vast halls, looking at the different amenities the palace had to offer as you searched for the room you knew your father would be residing in.
The more you walked, the darker the halls got and the less the smell of rose lingered in the air, a warning to stay away from this part of the palace. Though you had no choice but to ignore the prominent warnings, your posture became more frigid as you hummed a tune you had heard in the bazaar to keep yourself busy.
You were well aware of the fact that your father resided right next to the king’s quarters, so as you slowly opened his door to make sure no noise was heard, entering as you noted your father sitting on the edge of his bed, his wrinkly hands enveloping his tethered face as he could barely bring himself up to look at you.
“Baba,” Your heart dropped, running over to his frail body, your hands checking his forehead as your eyes filled with worry, “What’s wrong? Does your back hurt? Oh,” You noted his worn-out hands, “You have to let the king find another vizier,” You kneaded his hand with yours, “You cannot be his helper forever,” You cracked a gentle smile, but instead of his usual banter, he shook his head, still not looking up from his bed as he sniffled.
“Baba?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. Your father never cried. Never. Not when your mother died, not when the old king died, or even when you had managed to ruin his silken clothing. Despite his hardships, he was the man of the household, and he held himself to that standard.
But here, he looked like the shell of a man. His shoulders were hunched, lips pale as he shuddered, pushing your hands off of his back as he weakly stood up.
“Y/n,” He stared at the door, eyes quite dead as he refused to look your way, terrified that if he did he would crumble to his knees and beg for an apology. Even worse, if he looked at you, his resolve would shatter and he’d leave the room as fast as he could, “Azizam,” You watched as a singular tear rolled down his cheek, “You will have to forgive me.”
You shakily rose, brows scrunched up in confusion as you let out a question laugh, walking over to him to see what he was talking about, what had gotten him so shaken up that he used such an endearing nickname he had never used before this day.
“The king has asked for you to spend the evening with him,” He muttered, voice hoarse and raspy as he broke down into tears again.
“He…” Your shaky hands flew to your lips, eyes wide as you stumbled back, “He what?” Your frantic questions went unanswered as your father let more of his endless tears fall, wet lips holding back silent sobs as he turned back.
The king, a dreaded name for those around the palace. You childishly thought that being the daughter of the vizier would somehow spare you of the torture, of the horror that came with going into his quarters at midnight.
He said nothing as he crumpled down to the floor, hands covering his eyes as you stared at the door, the same one you had entered through, and the same one that seemed to mock you as your hands shook at your side.
One evening pleasuring the king meant spending the next morning dead.
—
Servants flocked to the room shortly thereafter.
They paid no attention to the old man as they ushered you outside, their nimble fingers working swiftly as they led you to a completely different room, stripping you bare as you worked mindlessly.
You fell into the large basin, cold water splashing across your body as they worked in silence, some here and there whispering words of pity to one another as they gossiped about your father’s weakened state.
You knew that deep down, sooner or later, this day would come. That one night they will take you to get clean and pretty so that the king can spend his lonely night with a virgin to bed, and by morning have her dead so that she may not betray him.
You could guess why you were giving off no emotions as their hands scraped your body rid of the dirt and dust, rubbing rose petals across your flesh, running water through your hair as they worked quickly and effortlessly.
At this point, you knew they had done this many times to know to be quick with the king’s impatient temper.
You seemed to be like a mindless doll as they carried you out of the tub, staying quiet as one lady braided your hair, gentle as she wove flowers into the crown of your head.
You watched as the other carefully dotted the roses across your cheeks, dipping her finger into the jar of honey as she brought it up, careful not to let any of it to waste as she swiped it across your lips, her eyes filled with deep sorrow as you stared out the windows and into the dark veil of night.
“You look very beautiful, azizam,” The old lady behind you muttered, her kind hands letting go of your hair as she gave your shoulder a gentle pat, “I’m sure your father would be proud of his daughter for serving the nation.
Serving the nation in your one day demise.
“You have not been…” The old lady sighed, looking away as her hands fell to her side, “You have not been bedded yet, yes?”
You slowly shook your head, muttering out a quiet no as she nodded, ushering out all the other ladies as she came to your view, dropping down so that she was level with your knees.
“You are the vizier’s daughter, so you must know,” She stated, her hands holding your cold ones as she pressed a soft kiss to the backside of it, “After you go into his room, he will tell you what he wants. When morning comes, he will have you killed.”
“I have heard it’s quick and painless, “ She sighed, giving you a sad smile, “Yet those who have experienced it cannot tell the tale, and so I don’t want you to weigh too deeply on my words, okay aziz?”
The old lady looked down at your hands as she took in a shaky breath, lifting your chin as she patted your cheek carefully.
“The time is almost midnight,” She said and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “He should be expecting us soon.”
—
His quarters were cold, that was the first thing you noticed.
You expected frost to be on the windows, and your breath to be visible in the moonlight, but you could only shudder as you looked around the candle-lit room, wondering when the apparent king was going to make his appearance.
Your shoulders were covered by the robes they had given you, but you still shivered as you took a slow step forward, expecting an echo to follow suit.
You jumped when the door behind you clicked opened, and you looked behind to see his looming shadow behind you, growing slowly as he took steps forward, and you could feel his icy gaze taking you in.
His white hair matched the surroundings, and his eyes, oh his eyes. So blue, such a color seemed to be unknown to humankind. You wanted to reach in and hold his face so you could see if he had diamonds in his sockets, but you knew to restrain yourself, straining your spine as you matched his stare.
You had heard of the king’s attractive outward appearance. Even when he had ordered for his old wife and her concubines to be executed, many of the women of the nation volunteered to fill her place as they never thought a man with such grace could be so cruel.
“My king,” You said with a deep bow, the shawl that loosely covered your shoulders almost slipping off your skin at the movement.
“Are you Y/n?” He asked, his voice deep and rich as he circled you, taking in your hair, the way your face seemed to shine brightly with the help of the candles, and how the robe around your shoulder hung snuggly around your body.
“Yes,” You bit out, swallowing your fear as you turned with him, not wanting the man to see your true emotions.
“You’re the oldest daughter of Ja’far?” His gaze traveled across your frame, settling seconds longer on your lips until they left as they glanced at the window.
“Yes,” You said through clenched teeth, the unsettling blue in his eyes reminding you that you were simply a lamb in the lion’s den.
You watched as he slowly nodded, his jaw set in place as he glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering rose scent that lingered in your neck and wrists.
“I’m Satoru,” He said, though you already knew that, “And I can assure you that these next hours aren’t as you’ve heard,” He mentioned with a tilt in his voice, but that only made your heartbeat more erratically, most likely the opposite of how he wanted you to react.
He worked by taking his gloves off, slender finger after slender finger, and he dropped them somewhere to the side, running a hand through his hair as he turned his back towards you, sighing deeply as he pinched his nose.
He moved to get something behind you, a drink the servants had laid out for him as he took in a heavy sip, his lips tainted red with the wine as he stared at the back of your head.
His hands were slow yet delicate as they found their way up to your hips, and you let out a quiet yelp as you felt his cold fingers tracing the patterns that adorned your robes.
“You’re pretty,” He muttered, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck, making you shiver, almost making you forget where you were as you felt your knees wobble from the weight of your body, “Haven’t seen you before, have I?” And you weakly shook your head, your heart pounding roughly against your ribcage as you felt his lips land on the skin beneath your ear, surprisingly gentle and warm as they kissed and nipped.
“You’re sweet, too,” He observed, and you could have sworn that have only lined your lips with honey, but he seemed intent on his statement, his lips moving more quickly as his hands reached up to the strings that tie your robes together.
And you froze, knowing that if he were to proceed, he’d surely kill you in the morning. And wouldn’t allow yourself to die tomorrow. You could not die to a man who wanted nothing more than to take your humanity and then dispose of you as if you were stale rice. You had a life planned outside of the palace walls, and you knew that deep down, this king could be manipulated in his fragile state of mind.
Your eyes darted around the room, trying to find anything to secure yourself until they landed on a jeweled knife, its handle crusted in rubies and emeralds and your eyes widened slightly with a mad, certainly mad, idea.
It was sharp and cleaned with precision. Sharp and versatile, and you didn’t doubt he had used it in the act of killing.
“That knife!” You sputtered out, stuttering as you stumbled forward out of his grasp, almost hoping you could swallow the words back at the way he snapped his head towards you.
“What?”
“A man once used that exact knife to get through the mountains of Zagros,” You quickly regained yourself, mind running quickly, two sides of yourself debating between doing this or sleeping with the king to quicken your eventual death.
The king stared at the knife for a couple of seconds before looking at you once again, his brows furrowed.
“Excuse me?”
You straightened your shoulders once again, clearing your throat as you tried to regain your confidence.
“A man that went by the name Aghā Ali,” You said, voice barely coming out of your throat as you tried to think of something as quickly as you could in your messed state, “When his daughter fell ill to the plague, he became desperate to find a cure. The village apothecary told him to go to the Zagros mountains and cut the red flowers he’d find in a field,” You nodded your head in the direction of the knife, “And he used a knife just like that one to cut the stem of the flowers when he found them…”
Silence fell in the space between the two of you, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest as millions of ideas running through his crystalline eyes.
“Are you telling me a story?” He asked incredulously, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.
You cleared your throat, trying to shrug it off as you stared back at the knife.
“I’m simply stating that a man once used that knife before to save his daughter.”
“How do you know he used my knife?” He was testing you now, you could easily tell. His lips had curved into an evil smile, a cat’s grin as he took a step closer to you, sensing the fear that still radiated off from your body.
“W-well, not your knife, but one that looked much like that,” You explained, swallowing dryly as you tried for a sweet smile, one that he might like, as you continued.
“His late wife had given it to him as a present, and so he used it wherever he went, for whatever that he could.”
The king didn’t say anything, so you took it as a sign that he wasn’t angry yet.
So you moved, putting on the facade of somebody confident in their story as you slyly moved behind him, causing him to follow your quick feet as you walked over to the table, careful as you picked up the heavy dagger.
It was strange in your hand, and you could tell how uneasy he felt with the weapon in your hand.
So you set it down, nodding as you swallowed your spit once again.
“Ali didn’t know his way around the mountains, so he got lost frequently in search of the flower,” Your fingers traced the rubies, shaking as you turned the knife over, running a pinger across the blade as you winced when it slit your skin, your blood staining it a bright red as you felt his eyes follow you.
“And because he had no map he went off of instinct alone,” You moved around the table, eyes darting to the slick pillows and shawls fit for a king.
“At night, he would lay under the moon and use his knife as a way to cut the animals open so that he could eat them for dinner. The mountains didn’t have anything big such as deer or goat, but he could hunt the occasional rabbits, even duck if he were lucky enough to pass by a lake.” You looked up at him from your lashes to see what he was doing, and much to your surprise he was staring back just as intently.
“The man knew that with each passing day his daughter would be getting sick and sicker, and though she was stronger than his wife in terms of physical strength, the plague took no longer than a month to kill even the strongest of the king’s soldiers, according to the village apothecary.”
Your robes felt heavy on your sides as you moved around the room, feeling the weight of everything slow you down as you tried to quickly think of more things to drag the story on.
“So he continued the track across the mountain, getting weaker by the hour, more tired by the minute and he still could not find the flowers he needed to heal his daughter.”
“Why go through so much?” The king interrupted, clearly annoyed with the way your story was going.
You stammered at the question, brows furrowing as you tried to make sense of it.
“Go through so much?” You repeated, shaking your head, forgetting who you were and where you were as you tilted your head to the side, “ I’m not sure I understand,”
He shook his head, looking at the dagger as he simply shrugged.
“The old man must be withering away in these conditions. If the girl would die in a matter of weeks, why should he push himself to such an extent?”
“Because it’s his daughter,” You quickly argued back, eyes narrowing as the king moved forward, taking off his heavy coats as he sighed in relief at the release of the material.
“And?”
“Well…” You sighed; realizing this must be difficult to explain to this particular man, “He cares for her and he doesn’t like to see his daughter in pain. He’s going through all this hard to make sure that she’ll be alright.” He scoffed as his hands found their way to a bowl, taking out one of the dates as he chewed on it before he spits the seed out.
“That seems like a figment of the imagination,” The king chewed and then swallowed, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he explained, “Fathers don’t care much for their daughters.”
A part of you boiled in outrage at the statement.
“Perhaps some don’t, my king, but that doesn’t mean all fathers carry no ounce of care for their daughters,” He could see your tremor fade off as it soon got replaced with fiery anger.
“No?” He asked coyly, talking out another date as he repeated the same actions.
“No,” You said without letting your voice waver.
“Then why did your father offer you up tonight? Surely he could have picked your other sister if he cared for you that much. Or the servant that’s standing right outside my door. Or maybe even the girl who cleans up the horse shit in the stables. Surely a fathers love my reach beyond that point, no?”
You could feel your resolve crumble as you listened to his words, your heart heavy isn’t the small expanse of your chest as you refused to breathe properly.
Did he simply offer you up as easily as the king was saying? Just like a lamb for slaughter?
“Just as I was saying,” He continued, happy with your obvious shock, “I find it rather hard to believe that Ali would go through the mountains of Zagros to find a flower for his dying daughter.”
He looked pleased with your silent state, watching keenly as you swallowed the thick lump accumulating in your throat. You took in a deep breath, controlling the shake in your voice as you stared at something behind him.
“The old man was relentless,” You continued the story, pretending that your conversation with the king was nothing, and missed the way his face fell for a second, taken back by the way you could compose yourself with clear tears making their way into your waterline, “But the flower was hard to find.”
“One night as the man was cleaning out his rabbit, he stopped when he noticed the rabbit had red petals lining the fur near its lips.”
“And so he cut the stomach to find it full of red petals, the same color as the flower he was so desperately trying to find.”
“The next day he went in search of rabbits with the same fur, and that night he was able to catch another one with the same petals in its stomach.”
“And so the old man followed the trail of rabbits until he one day, miraculously stumbled across a field full of the red flowers.”
“He was eager as he stuffed them in his satchel, memorizing the path he had taken as he passed by the old streams and lines of trees, his bad bursting at the seam with red relates and green stems.”
You stopped, tilting your head to the side as you gave out another yawn, oblivious to the fact that in the minutes you had spent thinking of more to tell, and in the hours you had spent explaining the complexity of the story to the king, the sun had begun peeking its way through the mountains.
“So when he got back home, his daughter told him that she only had a couple of days left to live before the plague got to her,” You didn’t notice how the king had risen from his satin seat, walking slowly over to you as his impatience got the best of him.
“And then?”
You whipped your head around at the sound, heart beating wildly in your chest at his unexpected voice.
“He cut the flowers up and mixed them in with tea, and each day he’d double the amount of the flowers he would use,” Your bodies were close to each other, so close that despite his tall stance you could feel his breath hitting your cheek, his eyes following the rise and fall do your chest.
“Did she not like the tea?” His voice was taunting and you shook your head, trying for the same menacing smile he was giving you.
“No,” You moved away from him, your robes swaying behind you as his gaze traveled across your swift movements, “She loved it. Each day she’d ask for triple the number of flowers instead of double,” Your eyes were trained on the window that pointed to the east.
“But,” You gnawed on your lip, “Ali didn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong,” You could hear him moving from behind you, his feet padded on the ground.
“And why is that?”
Your eyes darted to the window, the way the sun amazingly shone through the stained glass and colored his snow hair a mix of blues and yellows, something that your somber mind never thought you’d see again.
“The sun is coming up, my king,” You noted, your voice catching in the back of your throat as if you couldn’t believe what you were saying. It seemed that he too, couldn’t believe such a thing as he looked behind himself in doubt.
The two of you said nothing as his eyes widened for a second, lips parted in a shock as he looked at you in relative incredulity.
“My king…” You whispered, voice hoarse as you swallowed thickly, praying that your devious plan was working its way to the man, “What should I do?”
The king could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief, eyes narrowing as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as his kind ran with millions of thoughts about what he should do with you.
Never had somebody stalled him for the entirety of the night, let alone made him want to know more about the woman before he had her ordered to be killed. And despite him deep down knowing that this would surely ruin everything he had done to barricade his lonely heart, he shook his head slowly, brows scrunched up in confusion as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know the rest of your story.
“No,” He muttered out to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at you, but it weighed heavily in the expanse of his room, “Come tonight and finish the story.”
And he didn’t need to say it to know that you had managed to get the king hooked.
—
When the door creaked open with the maids once again lamentable at the fact that they’d be leading you to your death, they were surprised to still find your robes adjourning your shoulders, and the look of both dissatisfaction and something more lining the king’s face.
They all stared at him, waiting for the same orders that would tumble out of his mouth every morning, but he just waved them aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered out a quiet, “I expect you to finish tonight,” Before he shrugged his coat back on as he stalked out of the room.
As he moved past the servants, all the ladies stared back at you, mouths hanging open in shock, their hearts pounding in their ears, mirroring yours as the old lady who had bathed you the night before took a tentative step into the bedroom.
“Y/n…?” She asked slowly, testing to see how you would react, to see if he had done anything that could have broken both you and the cruel king to such a point, “Is everything alright?”
You stared at her, giving her a slow nod of your head as you couldn’t believe you were able to see the sun rising and hear the laughs of bewilderment that came from the servants behind the old lady.
“Did he say he wants to see her again?” One of the younger girls peeped up, and everyone snapped their heads over to her, the question everybody was wondering finally spoken out loud.
“I think he did,” One of the girls behind her answered, still not believing what they were hearing.
“What did you do?” Another one asked, testing gazes all focused on you, curious, begging to know just what you had done to break the streak of killings.
“I,” You sighed, rubbing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ears, letting out a skeptical laugh, “I just told him a story.”
—
That night, they did the same thing as the previous one.
They stripped you down, this time a bit more gentle as they weren’t much grime to scrub off, but still generous in the amount of fragrance they dabbed all over your body.
“Tonight,” The old lady who you had come to learn was named Nasreen, muttered softly, quiet enough for only you to hear, “Draw out your stories. Make them more interesting than the last,” She whispered into your ear as she led you back towards the king’s quarters, “I have never seen the king so,” She paused looking for the right word, “Forgiving as he was last night. You must have made an impact on him,” Her voice was laced with pride yet worried, “Don’t forget to make him more enthralled tonight than the last, alright?”
You merely nodded, tongue heavy in your mouth as you thought of all the stories you had come up with in the hours leading up to now, that in the hassle of the palace trying to get you prepared for the king you came up with the most fantastical stories you could think of.
“Y/n,” She stopped you right behind the familiar door, “I wish you all the luck,” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, scuffling away as the clock near midnight once again, fearful that if she stayed long enough she’d get too attached to you. And she had learned her lesson before.
Your eyes were trained on the door handle, hands filled with heavy lead as you raised them to the gold knob, giving it a slow twist as it opened easily into the freezing room.
It was dark, just as you remembered it being the previous night. The chilly air wrapped itself unwillingly across your frame, and with each heavy step, you took forward, the more dread-filled itself inside your head.
“Close the door,” His voice called out from the bundle of blankets and pillows that were laid out on the floor. You jumped when you noticed he had been there the entire time, shutting the wood quickly behind you as you shuffled inside.
“My king,” You gave him the customary bow, your heart pounding roughly in your ears as you heard some noise come from his side of the room, the ruffling of fabrics as he stood up, walking his distance towards you.
He said nothing as you lifted your head, his sapphirine eyes meeting yours as they stared boredly ahead, as if he could be more amused, and grunted, muttering something to himself as he walked away, picking up a date from the bowl as he pitted it and munched on it slowly.
“You seem displeased,” He noted, looking at your frigid body, “Are you not comfortable?” His white hair moved as he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out why you seemed so reserved.
You chuckled a bit in surprise, not thinking him to be of the right mind to ask such a question.
“My king,” You started, thinking of the nicest way to phrase what you were going to say next, “Forgive my outward appearance but…” You laughed again, almost to yourself that he could even be confused, “I must admit, I have reason to be drawn away.”
He looked back at you, eyebrow cocked as your fingers picked at each other, your mouth brought in a thin line as you looked around the room, anywhere to escape his heavy gaze.
“If you are not comfortable standing,” He gestured to the space to his side, “There is ample room for you to reside as you finish your story,”
You swallowed thickly, thinking of what would happen if you agreed to his offer. Sitting next to him, in such proximity, could insinuate things that you were trying to hold off for as long as you could.
But your feet were already tired from standing for so long last night, and with the hecticness of the day that followed, you found your body disobeying your rational mind as it slowly brought you over to his residing area.
You could see his sly grin growing at your willingness to come over, and you watched as he moved his slender legs to the side, letting you almost break to the ground as you let out a small groan of pleasure at how soft the fabric lay beneath you.
His eyes widened slightly at the sound, his heart beating rapidly as your lids shut for a second, your face momentarily blissed out as you craved for such relaxation until they snapped back open, remembering just where you were.
“S-so,” You cleared your throat, moving away as far as you could as you rest your back on the wall, “If you so please, I can continue with the story of Aghā Ali.” You paused to see his reaction, and he gave a little nod of his head, allowing for you to continue.
“The flowers he had been told to get from the mountain were useless, and even worse, doing more damage than good. The apothecary who told him to find the flowers was a greedy man who had been in love with Ali’s wife, and now daughter, and could only see them as his own or as dead.” You peeked over to see what the king was doing and was somewhat surprised to see him staring back intently at you.
“In a jealous and insane rage, the apothecary had been poisoning the bread that Ali and his daughter ate, and despite all his best tries, Ali seemed immune to the lethal dosages he was receiving. So, in hopes of trying to get rid of him, he told Ali that the flowers found in the Zagros mountains would be the only cure,” He sat up, supporting his head in his hands as his eyes narrowed.
“Why not kill him?” He asked and you paused, licking your lips as you smiled, glad to have anticipated his question beforehand.
“Because killing Ali would mean that he would no longer be allowed to go to Jannah, and the apothecary was weary of the sins he committed.” His eyes shined a darker shade of blue at your statement.
“Unfortunately for the apothecary, Ali was a bright man and could pick up on the flowers’ dangerous properties. Ali was also aware of the apothecary’s jealous fit and quickly put the two and two together. So, instead of wasting time spending his rage on the apothecary, he decided to wait.” You crossed your ankles together, adjusting your robe as you shivered, the air still cold no matter how much you adjusted your shawl.
“To wait?” He interrupted, lips pursed and brows furrowed in confusion. You got worried that he was losing his interest in your story, but he sat up, his white hair falling as curls on his face, eyes still shimmering blue as he tilted his head, “He decided to wait?”
His childish demeanor not only made you startled, but you could help but let your lips tug into a smile, and you tried to cover it up with a cough as you nodded.
“Ali was a very observant man. He could tell that whenever his daughter ate the bread, the sicker she got. So he waited, feeding her only bone broth and tea, without the flowers, of course,”
“And just as Ali had suspected after he stopped feeding her the bread and the flowers, she got healthier with each passing day. When the apothecary realized that Ali had once again won over his devious plan, he gave up,” You looked over to the jewel-encrusted knife, “And the apothecary slit his throat as a final testimony to his dying will.”
You could see how the king’s eyes widened, his lips parting as he became even more confused.
“That’s it?” He interjected, “He dies?” Bile rose to your throat, terrified that you had only upset the king until you tried to calm yourself down, your plan steady in your head as you raised your hands in a gesture to calm him down.
“For that story, yes, my king, but I also happen to know another story that you might enjoy,” It was a sudden change, but you wanted him to forget who he was for a second, to look past everything so that you could continue.
You could see something happening behind his stoic gaze, how his eyes narrowed once again, trying to sniff out your ingenuity, but you offered him a tender smile, one that held more behind it than he could tell, and the king only sighed, laced with annoyance and anger because of your stranglehold on his curiosity, and he glanced out the window.
“Well, hurry on with it,” He muttered, falling back down as he picked up another date to chew on.
And you grinned widely and didn’t care if he could see.
“My king, I doubt you’ve heard the story of the seven voyages of Sinbad…”
—
And so, the cycle continued.
You found yourself in his quarters night after night, evading death by ending on a cliffhanger that the king could only hear if he extended your death by one more day. Every night, you’d finish the story and start on another, prompting the king to a circle of never-ending stories.
The palace, stalked by your boldness to make the king enamored by your storytelling, began working like clockwork, giving you time to yourself to sleep during the day, as well as time to think up new and enticing stories the king may like.
You could tell he had a knack for adventures, and so you tried to make each one more exciting than the last. He was fond of poems of love and war, though he seemed to prefer stories of erotica more.
He was cruel, and even in the daytime, when you didn’t see much of him, you heard of his doings. While he seemed to be keen on not killing you until you run dry of things to tell, he still ruled with an iron fist, and the woes of the nation were only going unheard.
“Y/n,” The king interrupted you one night, pushing himself up by the elbows as he looked at you in your bundled-up corner, “What do you see?”
Your brows scrunched up in confusion at his question, and you squint to see what he was looking at.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand,” Your fingers fidgeted with one another as the king scoffed and he licked his teeth, weaving his hand through his hair as he motioned for you to come closer to him.
You slowly obliged, crawling over to where he was sitting as you gave yourself some space from his side.
You could notice his features more clearly here when the candle could illuminate his features better. His hair was arctic white, white than the snow that would litter the ground in the colder months. And his skin was pale and easily flushed red, almost as if the man refused to go outside in the summer. And his eyes, you could recall just how entranced they made you when you saw them at first. They seemed so hypnotizing, so surreal, that had this man not sent a chill through your bones, they might have put you under his charms spell.
“In the paintings, what do you see?” His eyes were trained on the wall, and you looked ahead, your mind reeling as you took in the different men and women painted in the photo, and what the artist could have meant when they drew it.
“I see…” You looked a bit longer, tilting your head to the right to get a better view, “A man being seduced by a woman,” You inspected the painting longer, “She seems like a witch of some sorts, maybe an enchantress,” You gnawed on your lip as you took in the background of the mural, “And she’s been able to lure him to his demise, judging by the red on her robes.”
You looked to the side to see what the king was thinking, only to him glancing at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you quickly looked away.
“I don’t see where you got the seducing aspect,” He admitted, and he shifted his weight onto his other hand.
Your brows furrowed at how he could miss such an obvious message. You raised your hand, pointing out to the woman as he followed the direction, “You see how her wrist is turned as she’s greeting him? Normally, you’d see people who try to romance one another have opening gestures, but she’d be more closed off and alluring. She dressed in red with minimal jewelry, which can mean that the man prefers somebody dressed down rather than inviting.” You explain and the king let out a small chuckle.
“You got all that from how her wrists were turned?” Your cheeks heated up once again as his eyes twinkle at your obvious embarrassment, and you looked away, shrugging as his smile only grew.
“Many of the artists I know explain the little details to me,” You muttered, “And you asked how I interpreted the piece. You got my answer,” He wanted to coo at the way your lips pouted, at how much less tense you seemed to be over time, and just how alluring you seemed to be when you childishly scooted away from him.
“You know artists?” He asked, perplexed by the outside life you shared and he knew little of it.
“Of course,” You nodded, “The bazaar is full of them. If I have time I walk around aimlessly, for the fun of it. You meet many interesting people where you’d least expect them,” You rubbed your nose, your eyelids growing heavier as the night continued.
“The bazaar,” He repeated to himself, and you glanced over to see him looking longingly at the painting, “I used to be quite the fanatic of the bustling streets.”
“You don’t go anymore?” You asked and he shook his head. Had he not been adorned in royal clothing and his title so glaringly obvious, you would have felt as though you were having a simple conversation with a friend, not the tyrant king everybody had come to fear.
“They’ve become a rather dark staple for me,” He admitted, “I can’t say I’m most eager to go back.”
You scoffed, your shoulder shoving his as his eyes widened in surprise by your out-of-character move.
“Everything has become a dark staple for you, my king. You cannot expect to outlive your past if everything you see reminds you of it,” Even sitting, he towered over you, and he had to crane his neck to stare at you in the eyes.
“There are some things I prefer to remember,” He gritted out, his lips turned into an unpleasant snarl as his eyes darkened, clouded by memories.
“I’m not saying you should forget, my king,” You toned your voice down in hopes of calming him down, “I’m saying that you move on.”
He scoffed, cheeks tinted a fiery red as he puffed his cheeks out, his stance now defensive as he turned his head away from you.
“What should you know?”He bit out, rolling his eyes at the thought of somebody like you understanding the utter betrayal he had gone through. The feeling of his heart being ripped apart piece by piece until everything in him stopped functioning because his entire world had come crumbling down.
“Idon’t know,” You told him, your voice soft as if carrying itself to his fragile mind, “But heartbreak is an unstoppable force, my king, and you cannot stop it from ruining your state of being. But it’s better if you move on and be-”
“I can’t move on!” He instantly roared, his voice shaking as he whipped around towards you, his shadow great in size as it dwarfed you in its presence, “Can’t you see that?” His voice wobbled for a second, and in his shaking glare, you could see his eyes water, how they seemed to dim in their crystalline glow as his lips shook.
You raised a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back as he easily complied, and you sighed, pushing some hair out of your forehead as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Your wife is dead, my king. You had her killed. She cannot haunt you any more than in thoughts,” You could hear his sniffles, how he shook when he took in a breath.
“I can’t move on,” He repeated thickly, “It hurts so much,”
“The pain is bare, my king,” You said slowly, “But what you have caused in its wake is destruction. You cannot think yourself to be healing in the act of death.”
You had feared you had said too much, but he only looked at you, hiccups leaving his mouth as his head fell onto your shoulder, and felt his tears wetly stain your robes.
“You don’t deserve this,” He said, “They didn’t deserve it,” He groaned into your coat as if realization was finally dawning on him.
“I’m sorry,” He wept out, and at this moment he was no longer a king, but a weak man who had his share of the world.He muttered it out over and over again until his cries and his apologies filled the air in the royal room.
You didn’t know who he was apologizing to. To you, to the women, he had killed, to himself, or to the man he killed when he began his endless cycle of murder.
“Satoru?” You tried for the first time, his name foreign on your tongue you felt his shaking stop, his wet lips breaths away from your skin that was revealed as he accidentally tugged on your robes.
“Stay,” He whispered into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moved around, shuffling so that he was off of your body, yet somehow he managed to bring you onto his lap, “I don’t care for a story,” He muttered as he looked up at you, “Sleep here tonight,” His large hands steadied themselves on your hips, gentle as you slowly nodded, his lips wet as they traced the skin near yours, soft and caring, a far cry from how you thought they’d be.
“But…” You were worried that he’d be tired of you by morning, realizing that you’re not what he bargained for, but the king shook his head, almost as if he could read your thoughts.
“I just want you to stay, nothing more,” He muttered against your skin, your fingers subconsciously rubbing his hair as he sighed contently at the feeling.
“Okay,” You muttered out, your lash fluttering against your cheek as you nodded, feeling his lips curl into a small smile as you relaxed into his hold, his arm doing all the work as they held you to his chest, cradling you to his body as if you were his only lifeline.
You knew that it was the king that was holding you as if you were his only support, that without you to hold at this moment he would sink into the floor below your bodies and disappear forever.
—
When morning came you felt a heavy arm wrap itself around your waist, and your eyes groggily opened as you felt little puffs of air hitting your neck, and you turned around to find the king fast asleep.
You moved away a bit, and felt his hand dip from your body, and didn’t see his eyes snap open to see you rising, your hair messed up, eyes groggy but still beautiful as he could only stare at the way the sun illuminated your soft skin.
“Mornin’,” He muttered, not used to waking up to a woman without feeling the ache of the night before, but the way you laughed softly at his tired state brought him back to reality.
“Good morning,” You replied, rubbing your eyes as you yawned, a gentle smile making its way up to your face as you watched him turn onto his back, his eyes still heavy from sleep as you giggled.
“I need some water,” You muttered and he cracked an eye open, getting ready to stand up until you pushed him back down, “I’ll be right back,” You corrected and he grumbled something out, blue eyes shutting anyways as sleep took a hold of the king once again.
You rubbed your eyes one last time before you stood up, groaning quietly as you stretched your legs, making note of the fact that you had never slept so comfortably before as you made your way to the door.
The hallways were lit with candles, and you quietly shut the door behind you as you tiptoed your way out, looking around to find two of the palace guards standing outside, already anticipating you from the way they instantly looked at your frame.
You had never seen them before, and while you were familiar with the guards that usually stood outside, these seemed more menacing than usual.
“Good morning,” You said sheepishly, trying to move past one of them when he blocked the way.
“Um,” You scratched your head, looking around to see if there was anybody familiar, “I’m sorry, but I need a pitcher of water for the king’s room if you’ll let me…” You went to outstep the guard but the second one now blocked your path.
You looked up at them in confusion, your lips pursed together as you laughed uncomfortably.
“May I leave, please?” You tried for another laugh, but their faces remained stoic.
You had never seen them before, and you doubted they knew you judging by the way their faces remained unchanged. Their swords were perched on their hips, and their gazes never altered.
“Come with us, miss,” The first guard said, his voice deep as he took a sudden grip on your elbow, rough as he pulled you away without letting you walk.
“W-wait, excuse me, I just need some water,” You quickly explained but they said nothing as they led you down the hall, their face never changing as you tried to wrangle out of their tight grips.
“Sirs! Please!” They said nothing as you thrashed around, their hands only holding you with a more bruising force as you tried to break free, “I only need a pitcher, that’s all,” Your eyes were frantic, heart in your throat as you tried to think of anything you had done to warrant such behavior.
“They’re always so fuckin’ rowdy,” One of them muttered to the other, obvious displeasure on his face as his fingers tightened around your arm.
You tried to think of what he was referring to when your eyes widened in understanding.
“The king knows me!” You shouted, “He’s asked for me not to be killed!” You tried to explain but the guards only laughed, and you felt your chest fall as they led you down a passage you had never been through before.
“I’m Y/n!” you explained, but they had no idea who you were, “I’m a friend of the kings!” But you didn’t even know if the king would call you that. You told him stories to keep him entertained and you out of the execution chambers, but these guards snorted at your statement.
With their strength, they had practically lifted you off the ground, and no matter how much you kicked your legs and screamed for them to let you, they seemed intent on leading you to wherever you were headed.
A voice in the back of your head already knew where.
“Please!” You shouted, your eyes tearing up, “Ask the king, he knows me!” And one of the guards behind you decided that he had had enough of your shouting, and used his unused hand to slap it roughly over your mouth, muffling your screams.
Your breathing got shallower and rougher the more you tried to break free, and the darker the hallways got the more your body weakened, and you felt yourself grow limp in their holds as they stopped in front of an iron door.
One reached into his pockets as he brought out some keys, flipping through them until he found the right one. He jammed it in the hole and the door swung open, revealing the horror that you had guessed would be inside.
An array of gallows sat in the middle, the ground littered with dried blood as you screamed again.
“I-I’m his storyteller!” You explain hurriedly, but the guards don’t seem to mind as they bring you closer to the noose, “I tell the king stories!” That got one of the guards to laugh, and you whimpered as the noose came closer into view.
“Ask the king, p-please!” You cried out, tears wetting your eyes as your voice caught in the back of your throat, “I tell him stories! I’m a friend of his!”
It meant nothing to the guards as they heaved you up onto the wooden pedestal, grasping your hands behind your back as they tied it over and over with scratchy rope, their hands rough as they pushed you forward, wrapping some dirtied cloth around your mouth to silence your screams.
You felt your tears collect on the cloth, and you felt lightheaded as one of the men began securing the noose around your throat.
“Stand on the trapdoor,” One of the men gruffed out but you hurriedly shook your head, trying to tell them that you weren’t who they thought you to be.
Tired of your antics, the man shoved your forward, and you stumbled and your eyes widened as the noose tightened around your neck, your breath lodging itself in the little crevices of your lungs.
You watched as the men walked over to the front, their hands outstretched to pull the lever as they stopped when they heard a loud crash happen outside the door.
Three sets of eyes snapped to the iron working as it slammed open, revealing a panting king as he stared widely inside the room, wasting no time as guards poured in, the maids that usually came to collect you in the morning puffing out air as they sighed in relief, relieved to find you alive.
“What the fuck is happening?” Satoru shouted out, his eyes raging as he saw you atop the gallows, cheeks stained with tears, mouth covered, a noose around your neck as he felt his breathing momentarily stop, “Y/n?” His eyes widened in shock as he saw the noose around your neck, your cheeks glistening with tears as your screams were muffled.
His eyes snapped over to the two guards, their expressions comedic had they not been seconds away from killing you.
The king was quick in his movements as he rushed towards you, quick as he climbed the gallow, his slender fingers nimble as they worked the noose off of your neck, and then quick to tug down the tear-stained cloth that covered your mouth.
His eyes were feverish as they searched you, his hands on either side of your face as he checked for injuries.
“Are you,” His voice wavered for a second as you stared back up at him, both of your hearts pounding at the same pace as he tried to catch his breath, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
All of the guards and servants watched in fascination as their ruthless king fell apart, his hands shaking as you smiled gently, shaking your head no to his hurried question.
“I,” Your throat was hoarse, and you realized what had led to this mess in the first place, “I just want some water,” You sheepishly admitted to Gojo’s frantic stare, and could see his resolve crack as he gave you a quick laugh, cradling your head gently as he led you out of the execution chambers and back into the forgiving bright light of the hallways.
—
The following night, the servants were extra careful as they prepared you for the king.
Their hands were more forgiving as they scrubbed the dirt off of your body, and their fingers kind as they slathered lotion upon your neck. Their smiles were caring as they rubbed rose petals across your wrists, and their words were hushed as though not to disturb you.
They could tell without asking questions that you weren’t how you usually were and didn’t doubt that going back into the king’s chambers would be more nerve-wracking than ever.
The robes they had dressed you in were softer than usual, and they kept it low with the fragrance as though not to give you a headache after everything you had gone through in the past couple of hours.
“Y/n,” Nasreen gently shook your shoulders to wake you out of your trance, “It’s time to go.”
And so you silently followed her on the familiar path to his room, your head heavy with pain as she knocked once, and then twice on the door.
It swung open after a couple of seconds to reveal the king in a disheveled state, his hair in disarray, eyes darker than usual as he seized you up, opening the door a bit wider so that you could come inside.
It shut quickly behind you, and you didn’t have time to turn around to say goodbye to the old lady before the king, Satoru, had led you inside.
The air was heavy as the two of you refused to look the other in the eye, unsaid guilt present in your stances as you went to open your mouth.
“My king, if you’d so wish, I can contin-” You didn’t have any time to prepare for the way his body threw itself at yours, a heavyweight pushing itself into your chest until you were roughly backed into the wall, his hand the only thing saving your head from bumping harshly into it.
His lips were hungry, ravenous, as they searched yours. They were agile and quick, not giving you time to breathe as his hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head ever so carefully so that he could gain better access to you.
You felt your tongues and teeth clash with one another, and despite your inexperience, you tried to match his quick pace. Any logical reasoning flew out of your head as his soft lips traveled upward, kissing your cheek, your forehead, and anything he could to remind himself that you were alive.
Your eyes opened as you felt him move downwards, his mouth hot against the column of your throat as he nipped at the skin gently, his teeth somehow gentle in their way as though not to hurt the fragile skin.
He’d press chaste kisses anywhere he could, his hands secure on your waist as the king looked up at you, and for the first time since your arrangement, you saw real fear in his sapphire eyes.
“Thought I lost’ya,” He muttered into your skin, his hands grasping onto the fabric of your robes as he tried to tug them off, “Thought I fuckin’ lost’ya forever,” His voice shook with raw emotion as your hands flew to his hair, bringing him back up as his hands worked at the knots that secured your robes together.
“It’s gonna,” You sighed as the cool hair hit your naked skin, your nipples pebbling up as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me, my king,” You tired fo a joke but the words died down on your tongue as he latched onto one of your breasts, his hands occupying the other one as he kneaded it.
“Don’t joke about that,” He murmured against you, your nipples glistening with spit as he detached himself from you, “Don’t ever wanna think about it,” He whispered, and your eyes fluttered shut as his slender fingers worked their way down to tracing the skin on your stomach, and you almost sealed as they traveled down dangerously to the apex of your thighs.
He fell to his knees, a true sight to behold as his hair ruffled, your hands clawing into his white locks as you weakly held him in place.
His tongue was hot as it licked at your skin, slow as it neared the area where you were sure was burning up and wasted no time as he slid a finger past your folds, into the slickness of your cunt, and you groaned audibly at the feeling.
It was much different from your fingers, and he was skilled as he added another, your eyes and teeth clenching at the stretch.
“Yer doin’ fuckin’ amazin’,” He muttered in awe at the way you sucked him in, at how wet his fingers became from just a couple of seconds fingering you, “Yer so fuckin’ tight -shit - h-haven’t you ever been…” And he trailed off when you looked away in embarrassment, and his lips parted in understanding as you covered your mouth to silence your whines.
“Oh darlin’,” He muttered, moving away from your pussy as he came back up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as your eyes watched his every move, “Have you never been touched before?” And even he seemed to forget that he only wanted virgins, yet you could weakly nod, your skin flushing as he hungrily looked at it.
He’s going to ruinyou.
“Well you’re just fuckin’ drippin’,” He said thickly, showing you his fingers as you looked away in embarrassment, but he quietly cooed, sleeping his fingers down your mouth, your eyes widening as you close your lips around them, brows furrowing at the odd taste.
“Sweet as shit, darlin’, better than any of the honey they’ve been rubbin’ on ya,” He muttered, his fingers working quickly as they went in and out quickly, his other thumb rubbing your clit as your eyes rolled back at the heavenly feeling.
“T-toru,” You whined thrashing around in his hold, “F-fuck it feels s-so good,” You hiccupped, your voice weak as you could rarely phrase things together. It was a far cry from how you usually wear, but the man was slowly tearing you apart.
His eyes widened in admiration at how sweetly his name rolled off your tongue, his ministration quickening in pace as he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He muttered against your skin, his fingers wet with your nectar as you cried into your hand, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening at his relentless movements.
“Ugh, Toru, please,” You cried out, your fat tears rolling down your cheek as you couldn’t contain your wanton moans anymore, “Fa-faster!” You were begging, your fingers curling into his hair as he grinned at your unraveling.
More quickly than not, you felt your vision go white, the not snapping as your climax came, the sweet orgasm washing over you as you almost went limp. Had his arms not been supporting you up, you would have crumbled. You could feel yourself spasm around his fingers, but he was slow as he pulled them away, his tongue flushing outwards as he licked them tentatively, moaning at how sweet your essence was as it coated his mouth.
He watched as you went to pull your robes over your body, naively thinking you were done, but Satoru pushed your hands back, shaking his head as his smile menacingly grew.
“I’m not done yet sweetheart,” He moved up as he kissed your lips, your release flooding your taste buds as his spit mixed with yours, and you moaned into his mouth, not used to such a euphoric feeling, “Gods, Y/n, I’m just gettin’ started.”
—
You woke up to your legs aching and throat hoarse from more than just crying.
Your eyes were blinded momentarily by the sun, but you felt a heavyweight stern across your chest, and you looked down to see Satoru’s long arm covering your bare breasts.
Your cheeks heated up as flashes of last night came to you, and suddenly you could barely think straight, shuffling around so much that it woke the very king up.
He was slow as he tried to remember where he was, but a flash of your hair and your awkward smile made him grin charmingly, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you deeper into the warmth of his chest.
“Did I wake you?” You asked quietly into his skin, causing him to shiver as the way your shy hand reached up to hold onto his naked hips, to hold him as if he were a staple into your lifeline.
“I was already awake,” he muttered into your cheek, kissing at the mark he had made the previous night, “You’re a beauty when you sleep,” He admitted and you duke your head deeper into his chest at his words.
“My king,” You blinked, swallowing thickly as you looked up at him, terrified to find a monster but instead finding a devoted man, his eyes deep as they stared back down, caring as his lips pursed at the title.
“Satoru,” he muttered, “Don’t call me king,” His fingers played with your hair, his white hair wild as you giggled softly.
“Alright,Satoru,” Your nose nudged at his bicep, “I have a confession to make.” You saw him glance down at you in momentary worry but your eyes twinkle in a playful, childish manner, and he grinned right back.
“I have no more stories to tell you,” You whispered, “They’re all done.”
Satoru said nothing for a couple of minutes as his soft breathing filled the air around you two, and your heart stopped for a second before he let out a loud laugh, joyful and juvenile as his eyes crinkled, his ars pulling you deeper into his body if possible as he littered your face with kisses, hugging you as though you were going to whisk away at any moment.
“I was wondering when you’d run out darlin’,” He exclaimed, pressing a light kiss to your lips as he looked down at you adoringly, “Because it’s time I return that favor,” He moved your hair out of your face as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “I doubt you’ve heard the wondrous story of the woman who somehow stole my heart.“
POV Reader x Gojo Satoru - You hold the mission file in your shaking hands reading the name over and over again…Gojo Satoru Ten long years and not a word, no sign He took away your fears and worries, after all even back then he was already the strongest. It wasn’t just his stupid pride or overconfidence.
His kisses addictive, his touch intoxcicating sending shivers down your spine. That scent that defined him. It would put you in a daze as soon as you breathed it in, reaching your anxiety riddled brain. Hmmm and his voice, every little noise that escaped was her undoing…Oh and those damn eyes of his. He was an instrument of pure torture but then he had jsut left. No sign, not a single word, he just left. And your world crumbled…ten years you have moved on, found someone good for you. No you wouldn’t let him come back and ruin it all over again. You close the file like closing the chapter of your life with a hurt sigh. You need a drink. A strong one
Better late than never! Here is a little drabble for Satoru’s birthday
Wc: 981
Warnings: unprotected sex, praise kink, Satoru being sexy, minors not allowed!
Satoru x Reader: Birthday Surprise
You waited patiently for Satoru to get home, laying on your shared bed wrapped up like a pretty present for him to open on his special day. Suddenly Satoru appeared hovering above you a lustful smirk stretching across his handsome face.
“Well hello beautiful!” Satoru cooed as he gently landed on top of you pinning you beneath him.
“Well hello Satoru, are you ready to open your gift?” You said in a sultry voice.
He nodded as he took your hands and tied them to the headboard. “Oh I am so ready!” Satoru said joyfully as he started to untie the silky purple ribbon that you tied around yourself. He smirked as he gently ran his hands down your body.
“M-Master.” You wined out as he held you down. You could feel your panties becoming soaked.
“That’s a good girl moan for me.”
“Y-yes Master! Ohhhhh!” You moaned again as he pushed his growing erection between your legs. You moaned quietly as he humped you.
“Such a good little girl, I love the way you look right now beneath me as I watch you becoming a hot mess.” He cooed as he picked up the pace of humping you. “I wonder how much longer you can last before you go completely crazy?” He whispered into your ear as he sensually choked you.
You laid there a incoherent drooling mess as he humped you wildly. “Ma-Masterrrrrr!” You whimpered beneath him.
“Yes my Pet? Are you enjoying this?” He asked you.
“Y-yesssss M-Masterrrrr!” You moaned again.
“Good.” He got off of you and rolled you onto your side he placed his arm around your waist as he cupped your pussy with his giant hand gently smacking it making your juices leak all over his palm. “Mmmmm princess you’re so wet!” He cooed as you wiggled in his grip. “I don’t even have to do anything to you and you’re a puddle in my arms.“
Satoru loved how he had easy access to your neck now, he leaned in to kiss your nape the sweet spot, making you moan louder and louder. He looked down, the sight of his hard cock rubbing against your soaked panties encouraged him to hold your hips even tighter as he grinded on you more, little whimpers escaped your lips. “Look who’s losing it.” He cooed as he squeezed one of your breasts.
“I think I want to finish unwrapping my present now.” He whispered into your ear as he rolled you onto your back. He reached down and carefully untied the ribbon, savoring every moment. His beautiful ocean blue orbs scanning your perfect breasts. “You’re so beautiful my Pet.” He smiled as he gently gripped your breast rolling your nipple between his fingers. He leaned in and bit your collar bone sending shivers down your spine. He traced his lips down your torso nibbling your soft skin making you moan out. He soon made his way between your legs biting your thighs marking you. He smiled as he caressed your folds making your juices leak all over his hand. “My, my, my we have certainly made a mess of you (Y/N)… Shall I clean you up my Pet?”
“Yes Masterrrrrr please do your worst to meeeee.” You wailed out as he pushed his palm against your wetness.
“Very well my Pet since you asked so nicely.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him, he dove right into your core instantly making you orgasm. “So quick to cum my love, I must be driving you up a wall right now.”
You looked up at Satoru through half-lidded eyes your lips slightly parted nodding your head in agreement.
Satoru chuckled. “Yup I turned you into a puddle you can’t even speak right now.” He went back down and began to lick up all the juices, swirling his tongue he made you squirt into his mouth. “I’m making such a mess of you I love it.” He cooed as he came up and pressed his cock against your entrance before grinding his hips up and down over your slit.
He couldn’t hold back anymore, the wetness of your core soaking his shaft just invited him to ruin you. "Is my sweet pet ready to let me take her?” He asked.
“Y-yes M-Ma-Master.” You moaned out.
Satoru smirked at you. “Mmmmmm I am so excited right now!” He leaned in and kissed you passionately holding you close as he entered you. Slowly he started to thrust.
You clung to his back for dear life as he pumped in and out going harder with every thrust. “Ohhhhhh Sa-to-ruuuu.” You moaned out as your walls clenched around his member sucking his cock in you came.
“That’s it baby girl cum for me…. I want you screaming my name!” He leaned in moaning into your ear as he grabbed your hips pounding you harder and harder
“Oh fuckkkkk Sa-Sa-Satoruuuuu p-please d-don’t stopppppp!” You screamed as he hit your g spot perfectly.
He slowed his pace savoring every thrust. “Princess I love the way you feel on me…. You take him in like a good girl.” He looked down to watch him disappear inside you, a huge smirk plastered to his face. “(Y/N)…. I love you soooooo fucking muchhhhhh.” Satoru moaned into your ear.
“Ohhhhh Satoruuuu I love you tooooo babyyyy!” You moaned out.
“Ahhhhh baby your tight pussy is ruining me…. I’m gonna cum!” Satoru moaned out as he came deep inside you painting your walls white with his seed.
You grabbed his face attacking his lips with a kiss. “Happy birthday my love!”
Satoru smirked as his cock twitched inside you becoming hard once more. “Oh yes indeed it’s a happy birthday! I am far from done with you my little present!” He leaned into your ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
|| Hello again my beloved readers. I know it has been an awful long time since I last published a chapter but I hope this is a nice surprise for you all. Once again thank you for your patience and support. As per usual comments and shares and always more than appreciated.
Warnings: Geto’s past arch, gore blood, violence, betrayal. Strong language, cursing,
Suguru’s Flash Back
The smell of copper and salt mixed in the air in a nauseating wave, a pale and strong body laid on the bed, slowly bleeding to death. A woman, equally pale, with a small pixy face framed by blank strands stood next to him with a manically joyous expression while watching her victim slowly fading away.
“Did you enjoy it Geto-sama?” She asked with the same angelic tone he was used to hear her call his name in the throes of passion.
“Was it as good as you expected?” another sour laugh teasingly echoed on his ears.
He couldn’t move. All he could do was be at her mercy, resting on a pool of his own sacred blood with a stake piercing his herculean chest, deep enough to keep him still but not precise enough to destroy his immortal un-beating heart. He wasn’t certain whether his lover planned it so to torture him or if it had been just dumb luck.
One wrong move and he would die instantly.
Fixating her with his amber gaze he managed to spurt
“Why….?” Barely a whisper came out.
“Why?” scoffed the woman, practically bending over while laughing.
“Why?!!!” questioned scandalized as if he didn’t know the monstrosities, he had committed against her and all of humankind just by existing.
“You dare ask…. Why?” an inclement slap crossed Suguru’s face
“You are a monster! A repulsive…. Blood sucking…. Walking corpse! You kill indiscriminately without any hesitation! Who could ever…?” she paused as if the very notion was preposterous “Who could ever love…. Something as disgusting as you?” Suguru knew he was in this situation because he owed her something, at least she believed he did. He knew once she attacked him in his slumber it was over for him.
She never loved him… she never cared. It had all been part of a perfectly constructed façade, presented to him on a very ironic silver platter.
“Your kind should have never existed! YOU! You should have never existed. And yet here you are!! Feasting and fucking! As if you had the right to do it! As if you were a person! As if…. You owed the world!”
Silent resignation was all he could offer in exchange. What was the point in denying it? She was right.
“Kaoru…” he attempted one last time “I am sorry…” he whispered weakly, coughing up blood that marred his attractive face.
“YOU ARE NOT SORRY! YOU ARE NOT SORRY FOR THE MURDERS YOU HAVE COMMITED! WHAT YOU REALLY ARE SORRY ABOUT IS THAT I STOPPED YOU! YOU ARE SORRY THAT I… A MERE HUMAN IS GOING TO KILL YOU!” Screamed the woman hysterically once more.
Breathing heavily after her outburst, Kaoru tried to collect herself once more before delivering the final blow “Goodbye my love” her poisonous farewell did nothing but wound him further. He had been a fool and now he was going to pay the ultimate price.
Closing his eyes, Geto prepared himself to embrace death, but the fatal blow never came.
The sound of gurgling and a warm shower of blood covered him instead… her sweet essence spilled and stained his entire body. Her black eyes crystallized watching him with hatred and surprise when she finally hit the floor wondering where she went wrong.
Looking behind her, Suguru knew the reason.
There he stood. Tall, imponent and cold… his very own blood brother covered in crimson after slitting Kaoru’s throat open to save him.
End Suguru’s Flash Back
Amber eyes shot open, the next thing he knew he was standing next to his bed holding his katana.
A dream… a dreadful memory that reminded him the reason why his kind should never trust humans…. His brother had once saved his life and now he needed to repay that favor.
Miss L/N would be receiving a visit this very evening, he couldn’t let this go on for much longer.
“I guess we will finally put to the test who you really are Y/N L/N”
FLASH BACK - The Evening Before Satoru Showed up wounded at your place
… “NO!” a pair of piercing blue eyes remained impassive with their answer.
“Hear me out! You owe me at least that much!” insisted his companion.
“No! I am not going to do this! She does not deserve this! Y/N has not given me any reasons to doubt her loyalty! I went through the whole P.I. Investigation because you insisted! There was not a stone left unturned! You made sure of it yourself Suguru!” added Satoru running his hands through his messy white locks.
Gojo understood perfectly where all this concern was coming from, but… it was misplaced. He could feel it in his veins… literally.
The raven-haired vampire sighs and rolls his eyes. His blood sibling was too stubborn, thinking with his dick would get him killed one of these days.
“You are far too infatuated with that monkey to see this for what it is! If she is as ‘trustworthy’ as you say she is, then this would be the perfect chance to put it to the test!”
Amber met sapphire in a silent battle of wills. There was no changing Geto’s mind. Sighing, Satoru finally capitulated and replied
“Fine… but I will be the one setting the scenario! You are not to interfere unless I say so!” Suguru smirked showing off his razor-sharp incisors with delight. “You will not regret it…”
“Oh, but I already am regretting it… I assure you brother… She harbors me no ill will… But when she finds out that I was behind all this shit-show she will! And with reason”.
“Trust me!” Suguru insisted “No human is that good…”
“She is! … Be ready to be proved wrong, brother” smirked Satoru.
“Oh, I am ready!… Are you?” asked Geto holding a pair of silver chains while wearing a pair of protective leather gloves “This is not going to be nice”.
“Yeah… no shit Sherlock…” Gojo hisses “let’s just get on with it”
END FLASH BACK
Present
After Satoru and you fell asleep in your home Geto decided it was time to set the plan B in motion. After returning to the Gojo Estate, he called for one of the lackeys on payroll. Some new hire werewolf bodyguard.
“You are to break into her house… find Satoru and attempt killing him” ordered in a perfectly collected tone of voice while holding a rag to his bleeding nose. The morning bleeds were an inconvenience he would have to endure to continue with his plan.
Day time was not benevolent to vampires, it was unnatural for them to remain awake, so they bled from their nose and ears. It was a necessary evil to make sure this plan worked out exactly as he wanted it.
“B… but boss… Master Gojo…” started protesting the very terrified man when Geto hissed drilling his amber gaze through his eyes. In a movement to fast for the lackey to register Suguru had him pressed against the wall.
“You would never be able to kill my brother, you scum… but you will put all your might to try and prove that woman is nothing but a traitorous whore!”
“y…. yes master” agreed the man after he was released onto the floor.
“Take the body camera with you… You are dismissed”
Around 9am you woke up feeling cold and constricted. Satoru had you perfectly trapped into his marble like limbs. His cool body perfectly molded to every one of your curves as if rejecting the slightest gap between you two. Detangling yourself from a vampire who also happens to be dead for the day was an effort, but you finally did it after some struggle.
After showering and brushing your teeth you went to the kitchen looking for food. You were careful to close and lock the door behind you, shielding the sleeping vampire from the harmful day light. The events from last night still reeled in your mind, Satoru was in danger. You couldn’t be certain he was safe or that he was not followed.
You were bordering on paranoia, but you would rather err on the side of caution than risk Satoru’s life.
You walked around your house closing curtains, moving some furniture, overall blocking as much of the day light as possible just in case you needed to relocate Satoru.
“Fuck…” you whispered while heading into your office, opening the top drawer of your desk, and pulling out a heavy rectangular case. “Never thought I would actually need this… but here we are” Anything that came after Satoru during the morning hours wouldn’t be a vampire so a regular gun would suffice to protect Satoru and yourself.
Your studio and home were located on the first floor. Which meant multiple access points. You had to make sure you were able to shield your lover in case someone broke in. Luckily, your room was the very last at the end of the hall therefore there was a long stretch to go if someone attempted to get to Satoru. You locked all the doors and windows, placing a few items nearby to alert you of any intruders, a glass here a vase there. The noise of it breaking would alert you in time to stop any intruders and protect the vampire in your bed.
Sighing, you realized you were underqualified for this kind of job and yet you couldn’t come not to care. Satoru… was special to you. Whether it was the effect of your blood bond or something else, you cared deeply about him. The fact he had searched for refuge and comfort in you in his most vulnerable moment didn’t go unnoticed. He trusted you and you would not betray him when he needed you the most.
Taking a seat in front of the main door while sitting on a chair made you feel as if you were in a movie. Just when you were about to give up and write yourself off as a mental case a vase by the living room window broke when it got smashed on the floor. Cocking the gun, holding it with both hands you moved to the origin of the disturbance “Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing in my house?” you asked pointing the gun at the strange man who now looked at you with an amused expression
“Doll… do you even know how to use that?” the bearded stranger asked chuckling. Arching a brow, you shoot the floor right next to his foot startling the man.
“… I missed” you added in a sarcastic tone.
“Where is the vampire?” he asked in a snarl that sounded less than human, it made you flinch. You did not hesitate and instead shot his kneecap incapacitating him.
“You fucking! f…. fuck! Little bitch!” screamed the man in pain trying to reach inside his jacket “I wouldn’t fucking do that if I were you… Next one will be straight between the eyes…” you said as firmly as you could. The adrenaline rushing through your veins making you shake slightly.
“Who sent you?” you asked once more.
“As If I was gonna tell you… bitch!” his answer made you chuckle, a part of you realized then that you were scared… terrified even but you couldn’t back down, not now.
“You might not want to tell me but there is just so much shit I can shoot before you bleed to death… your choice” you reminded him pointing the gun to his other knee making the man pale.
But before you shot him again a pale hand stopped you taking the gun from your hands. Satoru stood behind you looking paler than normal and with a blood trail running down his nose “Sansa…. What the fuck are you doing in my woman’s house?” asked the silver haired vampire making you frown. He knew the intruder.
“M…Master Geto sent me here” replied the man at once.
“I see… well… get your ass out of here before I end you myself….”
The thug nodded and got up on his good leg.
“One more thing before you go Sansa…” started Satoru.
“If I ever hear you address my woman in such a vulgar manner again, I will rip off your tongue along with the rest of your entrails… you got that?” the man nodded and as fast as he could he left, using the same window he entered through.
“What the fuck is going on? Who is Geto? Why did he send someone to hurt you?”
You fired question after question while helping your lover back to your room
“Shouldn’t we take you somewhere else? They know where you are now!” you added frantically. All your thoughts were stopped when Satoru started laughing while laying down on the bed. “Did you really shot and threatened to torture some stranger who broke in your house to protect me?” Well… now that he said it that way…. It sounded a lot worse.
Satoru merely relaxed on your bed with a dreamy expression while twirling a long finger through one of your h/c locks with the most besotted expression you have ever seen on him. You frowned and pulled back, uncertain if he was delirious because of all the blood he lost last night or just confused because it was daytime.
“I am serious Satoru! We don’t have time for games! We must find a way to get you out of here!”
He chuckled and shaking his head forced you to lay down with him. Making you rest your head on his chest you cringed and straightened your posture when you felt your cheek getting smeared with blood “Why are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” you asked.
“I am fine… I got the bleeds; it happens to us vampires… when we are not asleep during the daytime” explained in a steady but sleepy tone
“Are you sure you are safe?” you insisted “Yes… I am…” sighs happily “Now stop worrying and let me sleep… I’ll explain everything tonight…” kissing your forehead he praised you “You did very well Y/N… I am lucky to have you…” and with that he fell asleep.
For some reason his words did nothing to dissuade you from worrying about what just had taken place in your home. There was something off… you could feel it. Satoru had been careful enough not to say anything that could spike an alert in your bond. After he was asleep once more you left the bed to go clean yourself and the mess left behind in the living room.
You had to analyze what you had in your hands…
First, Satoru showed up wounded and bleeding as if he had been captured and tortured last night, you fed him and then offered him shelter. The next morning some weird dude broke into your home but… Satoru seemed to know the man and to be in control of him as well. There was something awfully convenient and suspicious about it all. Satoru was hiding something, and you were going to find out exactly what it was.
The intruder said that Master Geto had sent him, and Satoru seemed familiar with who that person was. Perhaps you should wait for your lover to wake up for the night because he was in it for a treat.
In the darkness of his chambers Suguru watched speechless the footage of the body cam his lackey had attached to his chest.
There you were.
Already pointing a gun at the intruder in your house that seemed oddly submerged in darkness in the middle of the day. As if you had been waiting for someone to come after Satoru. Your fierceness and lack of hesitation to defend his blood brother had been…. Unexpected.
Honestly, he thought it would be the usual spiel where you were taken hostage and in exchange for sparing your life you gave up Satoru’s, preferring to sacrifice the monster rather than your life… How wrong had he been!
But who exactly are you? No woman could be this loyal and protective over no child of the night. Instead of gallivanting around like a moron, you had set everything up for a potential ambush so you could protect… Satoru.
“Impossible…” whispered the dark-haired vampire retreating to his resting place. Laying down he groaned.
“Fine… it seems your kitten wins this round brother… but that only means I will get to meet her in person” after speaking his mind out loud he allowed the morning to take his consciousness with it.
Blue orbs became suddenly aware in the dark. The first thing that came to his mind were thoughts of you. First, you were not by his side and yet you were not that far. A surge of acid and conflicted emotions coming from your studio along with some hard rock music told him that you were not in a good mood.
You were angry, confused…. Uncertainty laced his tongue bitterly mixed with the fragrant aroma of your scent permeating the air.
Resigning himself, Satoru took an unnecessary deep breath and stood up so he could go find you.
You were a very intelligent woman; you must have come to the logical conclusion that something was amiss; Gojo had no other choice but to face you now. Quietly opening the doors to your working area, he saw you there in your element. Completely unhinged, divested from your usually cool and collected persona in favor of your rage to take shape in the canvas you frantically traced and abused with your tools.
Merely wearing an oversized dressing shirt that didn’t cover your s/c legs. You were once again a vision of perfection. The fire in your eyes matched the violent rhythm of your blood pulsating violently through your veins as you worked.
When the song playing on the speakers was over Satoru stopped the music on the stereo next to him. Immediately, you turned around and frowned. After blowing a stray stand of your gorgeous h/c hair from your eyes you said, “You have a lot of explaining to do… and you better not lie to me this time!” you demanded breathing heavily from the physical exertion of your art.
“Y/N…” he started in a calm tone “We are safe…. Nothing is wrong… I promise you… everything is alright” Everything was alright of course, taking in count it had been Suguru and himself the ones to stage this charade.
“I need you to have an open mind and try to understand what I am about to explain to you…” taking your hands he led you to sit on the windowsill with him.
“Being a vampire is not as simple nor as fancy as it might seem at first sight. It takes a lot more to remain alive through the centuries… We must be extremely careful about who… we trust…” started the man looking into your eyes almost cautiously “I…. I needed to know that I can trust you with my life…”.
Narrowing your eyes that zeroed on his face like a predator staring at her prey you asked “What do you mean by that? I can’t deal with all the vagueness, so just speak!” Satoru was startled you were so straight forward. He needed to remind himself you were never just a pretty face.
“I staged the attack from last night to make it look like I was wounded to death….” He confessed without hesitation as if he had simply told you about the weather.
You didn’t say a word after that, not even a pip. Slowly, you detangled your hands from his making Satoru uncomfortable about the distance you were trying to place between the both of you. The mix of betrayal and anger that came from you in waves filled his chest making his stomach plumet in anticipation “Y/….” He couldn’t even finish saying your name before you raised a hand to stop him. He knew exactly what you were about to do.
Faster than your human eyes could track he moved behind you and wrapped one of his arms around your waist while the other covered your mouth pressing you firmly against his chest “Do not kick me out of your house love… that’s not very nice from you. I asked you to be understanding, I need you to calm down so we can talk about it”.
You fought and kicked with all your limited human strength, all with the full intent of kicking him the hell out of your home, in the end you were hurting yourself more than him battling against in his herculean hold “Stop! Stop it! Y/N! I don’t want to hurt you! Stop struggling!” he snarled concerned when he heard one of your joins pop due to the effort. He froze but chose not to let go “Either you stop and talk to me, or I will command you to listen to me…” He menaced making you stop for a moment. Another one of his terrifying skills had been revealed.
He hated resourcing to such low strategies, but he was concerned you would end up seriously injuring yourself trying to harm him. But then you went completely limp in his arms, you didn’t move a single muscle, with your eyes fixed in front of you looking at nothing in particular, a single tear ran down your cheek making Satoru panic. Did he hurt you without noticing?
Fussing all over you he moved in front to cup your face between his hands “Are you not well? Are you hurt?” his concern seemed almost genuine… almost.
“It’s impressive… how you almost seem to care” you voice once sweet and warm was now cold and dispassionate Looking at you horrified the vampire continued “I… DO care about you, A LOT which is why I want you to understand my reasons for doing what I did”.
You pulled back slowly, hesitantly, certain he would stop you, but he did not. Satoru realized he fucked up. The look in your eyes, there was no fear but disappointment and hurt instead in those beautiful orbs he had learned to adore in such a short time.
“You don’t care about me… you don’t even think about me like a person… You think about me like a possession and object to satisfy you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe you could have talked to me about what you wanted to know?”
Not giving him a chance to defend himself you continued “Furthermore… if you did not trust me from the beginning… Why even bothering is asking me to be your… “you chuckled derisively “Your blood bag?”. You pulled away from him as if he disgusted you and, in his heart, he knew he deserved your resentment. He wanted to explain to you more about himself and his brother, maybe if he could make you understand that their lives have been in danger more than once in the past you would be able to put his transgressions past you and give him another chance.
“Y/N… Please listen to me… I know it is difficult to understand but it was necessary”
Maybe you two were too different to even begin to understand why Gojo had gone so far out of his way to try and what? Test you? Try to prove that you were willing to give up your life for him? It seemed cruel that he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove that more than just a quick fuck and a feed… you could be his friend.
“Get out of my house now” you whispered looking down to the floor, refusing to look him in those merciless blue eyes you have grown fond. Once again, the force of the compulsion expelled Satoru out of your home but this time, he didn’t fight it.
a/n: to the anon who asked for this, if you’re still here, the emoji is all yours. first fic of the year and it’s angst..it’s kinda rusty but i reallyliked this concept. this took me forever to finish. i am so sorry. the ugliness of my writing does not reflect the beauty of this man.
tags: angst, soulmate au (red string of fate), not proofread, flirty gojo, male reader, manga spoilers, past satosugu.
wc: 2.2k
He has been, and always will be, an extension of his own wickedness. Despite the many lives he lives— at home, he is Satoru. At work, in public, he is Gojo. To his students, he is their Sensei. Eventually, the lines begin to blur into an alarming shade of red. Burning, scarlet and untouchable, invisible strands of thread travel through the alleyways of Kawasaki City.
At home, he is Satoru. The notorious heartbreaker, the ‘soulmate’ to many— he has the red strings to prove it. He stares into his reflection, pulling at the pale skin encasing his soul. It feels forlorn, his body is not his own. The distorted image of himself stares back at him, cerulean eyes wide and sunken, completely unblinking. He tries to put on a smile, figurative chains pulling at his cheeks and leaving indents that mock him endlessly.
At home, he is Satoru. With gangly limbs and unruly hair. His blindfold, tussled between white bundles, remains over his eyes as he brushes his teeth. The bristles swipe over his gums, across each tooth, and metallic blood finds itself enamored with his toothpaste. He spares a second glance at his reflection.
He’s never felt so tired in his life.
In public, he is Gojo. He steps into the crisp, winter air with festive bags draped over his strong arms. Railings are decorated with a frozen chrysalis, and Gojo catches sight of himself. His pale skin is flushed, a blotchy shade of pink that clashes with the rest of his face. Even then, he smiles through his black, cloth mask before picking up a phone call. He is respected— respectable, as a man, because of his ability to masquerade, he supposes.
In public, he is Gojo. No one bats an eye as he flirts, slinging his winter coat over his shoulder as he opens a door for the prettiest person he can see within a five mile radius. He responds to flushed “thank you”s with a cunning smile and a gentle wink, later sliding passed with his hand ghosting over soft waists.
He’s never felt so tired in his life.
To his students, he is their Sensei. Idealized, omniscient, indomitable. His abilities are uncanny, the weight of Six Eyes diminished and underestimated— because Gojo, Satoru, a mentor at Tokyo Jujitsu High, a special grade sorcerer, is the perfect fit. His Six Eyes tell him he’s unbounded, but his soul knows otherwise. Tinted red strings tie themselves to each of his fingers, each tighter than the rest— but only one burns brightest.
Invisible strands of thread travel through the alleyways of Kawasaki City, tying Satoru down to an unreachable, desolate, cliff. Undisclosed loneliness gnaws at his abdomen, and chips away at his liver until it grows back the following morning. He wonders who feeds on his very being, who tugs at the strings tied down to his long, cadaverous fingers.
Snow falls onto wet concrete, January air nipping at your fingertips. It’s a fruitless effort, huffing into your palms as your brisk stride carries you through a damp alleyway. Despite the many lives you live— you’ve always been honest. Some part of you, you suppose, will always be left upon your sleeve. whether you spend sleepless nights trying to mend that or not. The day flies past you in a blur, stuck on autopilot, until you realize you’ve smacked your hand against the register.
Before you could succumb to the rabid evil of your mind, a new customer drops a nauseatingly sweet treat onto the worn conveyor belt. The arrangement of sweets seem to be leftovers from the store’s bakery, wrapped delicately with bows and intricate wrapping paper. Your arms ache with fatigue, though you’re still grateful for the distraction.
The cash register mocks you with your very own reflection, and as the sweet is pulled forward, you catch yourself frowning at the dull depiction of you. The distorted image of yourself stares back at you, tired eyes sunken in and exhausted. You try to put on a smile, eyes flickering up to meet the tall man with an insatiable sweet tooth.
You’ve never felt more tired in your life.
A mosaic of effervescent, electrifying, hues of blue cluster in your vision, indescribable shades blurring together. Hauntingly— painstakingly, beautiful.
Then, almost immediately, you’re overwhelmingly warm and gaping in unfiltered awe. His grin is just as bright as his eyes, your heart buffering before you can register your facial expression. Looking up to the stranger in front of you, you exhale breathlessly and shove the sweets into the recyclable bag.
His eyes are blue; sunset lit and sparkling with shades that remain nameless to this day. His hair is the cleanest tinge of white you’ve ever seen, brighter than the snow blanketing the rooftops and streetlights. His glossy, rosy, lips curl into a cunning grin.
You’re quick to ring him up, clenching your jaw as your fingers struggle to separate each end of the plastic bag. With the man hovering directly parallel to you, an anxious tremor racks your body. At this angle, shadows meet to frame him perfectly. The curve of his face, the slope of his Adam’s apple, his silhouette blanketed by a ray of sunlight that peeks through desolate clouds.
“Is that— Will that be all for today?” You clear your throat, leaning against the register stand with fabricated confidence. You watch him readjust his sunglasses, his plump lips jutting out as he thinks over his purchases. Despite the coy display, his long fingers slide out of his pocket with one languid motion. He pulls out a card, shiny and gleaming with wealth you could never begin to comprehend. Not while you work 9-5, anyway.
“Well, when you put it like that it’s kind of embarrassing!” He huffs dramatically, waving the card between two manicured fingers. He taps it against his bottom lip once, then twice, and leans over the register— seemingly taller by the second. With zero comprehension of personal space, he tilts his gaze down from your lips to the cash register pin-pad. His breath smells of mint and chocolate chips, but it’s the smell of his expensive cologne that curves your judgement. For a moment, you consider what it’d be like— being wrapped up in his honey-smooth scent. His voice lowers to a whisper as he tilts his head, “Don’tcha think?”
“Uhm,” You mumble, hushed. There’s an impenetrable force compelling you to step forward, bask yourself in his congenial warmth, despite only having seen him a handful of times here and there. You’re breathless, completely discarding the question all together as you watch him fix his posture. Somehow, he seems even taller, as if his legs have no end. “Excuse me?”
His omniscient grin wavers, only slightly, and if you weren’t studying his expression with intense care you’re not sure you would’ve noticed it. His eyes, blanketed by dark shades, trail down to his hand, across your bicep, and back to your ring finger. His smile tightens, but he clears his throat to speak nonetheless.
“[Name], is it?” His saccharine smile twinkles as he changes the subject, blue eyes rereading your name tag. “You hit your hand awfully hard just a second ago. I don’t usually flirt with boys, but…”
His hand travels to meet yours, gentle and soft despite rugged scars that litter his palm. With Six Eyes he can see it all much too clear— a blazing red string that ties himself down to you. But this has to be some sort of dream—it’s all too sudden, all too real. His fingers cascade across the tendons of your hand, where you’ll be sure to bruise later. He inhales sharply, intense crimson spreading throughout his warm fingertips, with heavy cotton in his head. Selfishly enough, he hopes the forming bruise will be the only thing connecting his soul to yours.
Oh..” You respond, swiping his card with trembling hands. “It’s nothing, really.”
You take in the sight of Gojo (you’d learned his name a few nights ago) under streetlights, his glossy irises bouncing yellow hues off it’s surface. He holds onto your hands like he’s known you forever, leading you down the cold streets of Kawasaki City. Lilliputian sheets of black ice blanket the open street— which remains unusually quiet for the late evening. His stride never wavers, despite stepping on ice several times. His gaze is shielded, but his shoulders remain dropped and weary, and you can’t help but wonder about his story. You hope to have the chance to discover who he really is, behind those glasses, but your thoughts collide before you can sort yourself out.
His reciprocated gaze is full of fascination, uncharacteristically speechless and— wounded. Almost like he’s watching himself in the reflection of your eyes, his lips split into a bittersweet grin. There with you physically, his mind seems to have drifted off elsewhere. The whirlwind of emotions welling up in his head jostles him with whiplash..the image through his eyes seems hypnagogic, almost like he’s looking right through you.
“Satoru?” You ask, expelling his name much too warm for his liking.
Hearing his name repeated so sweetly, like it had been so long ago, makes a heavy lump of bile form in his throat. This moment he’s sharing with you— it belongs to someone else. Tears form at the corner of his eyes, and Satoru blinks rapidly behind his disguise. Holding hands under the pale moonlight, keeping the other warm with residual body heat… This moment belongs to happiness. Happiness, found in long, dark hair and eggplant eyes. Found in smug remarks and tangled hair bands. In Suguru.
And you..you are not Suguru.
“Hm?” He inhales sharply through his nose, an even sharper crack exuding from his lips. Your gaze follows his movement, frantic and confused as he pulls himself free from whatever internal conflict just flickered across his face. He traces something you can’t quite comprehend, moving alongside it as if there’s an invisible line that’s caught in knots and tangled past reconstruction connected to your fingertips. He shakes his head, a rancorous snigger escaping past his shiny lips. “Oh, nothing! I was just thinking…”
“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Is what you thought you’d hear— somehow, somewhere, beneath a vast kaleidoscope of blue hues.. you found yourself selfish enough to hope for more. It was fate that brought him to you, a diverging path of the unknown haunting your loneliest nightmares. And you’re delighted, delighted to have met Satoru. With striking eyes and unruly hair— large palms and a contagious laugh. To you, despite only knowing him for a short amount of time, that was happiness.
Knowing it’s not reciprocated, even in the quietest part of your mind…
“…Anyway,” Satoru carries on with the insatiable need to satisfy his use of phrases. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the man’s desire to fill silence is almost deafening, as if the moment he stops speaking he’ll burn from the inside out. Like a short fuse, ready to burst at any moment. “It’s getting pretty late.”
There’s a collective pause between the two of you, a silent orchestra of contemplation as the night grows colder.
“Did I do something wrong?” You ask, and his demeanor shifts, much colder than before, as he stuffs his hands into his coat pocket. The lingering idea of being an afterthought, a rebound, threatens to tear you apart from the inside out. You laugh, bitter and distorted enough to sound like a strangled cry.
And, ironically enough, misfortune held your hand through it all. Gracing you with this man; a sorcerer, a mentor, a respected name, it breaks your heart. You didn’t know him like the back of your hand, but no matter where you went, he was there. To pick up the pieces, to apply the bandaids over your scraped knees when you pushed yourself too hard.
Believe it or not, when you were with him, you felt whole.
“What? Of course not!” He promised himself he’d be better. He’d love despite the strings tying him down to countless others. Despite the string pulling him toward an empty, nevertheless marked, grave. Alongside his best friend he’d bury his doubts, his soul crushing anxiety that came with yielding Six Eyes. “I was just thinking about where we should eat!”
Being the strongest man in the world can be so, so lonely.
He promised himself he’d be better. The first few times the desk seated next to him was empty, he told himself it was nothing. Because of this, his own selfishness, he lost what could have been. And for that reason, and that reason alone, Satoru will always be the weakest man in the world.
He promised himself he’d be better. The first few times he ran into you at the grocery store, he told himself it was nothing. The red strings connecting him to high school sweethearts and some of his closer acquaintances were nothing. The matted and tangled strings that seemed to never stop growing…were nothing.
And the universe’s divine hands must be incomparably cruel, because from nothing comes everything.
His shoulder bumps against yours as he smiles at you, January air jostling you about, but somehow missing the teacher completely. Lingering tension evaporates into the air as you nod in acknowledgment before hooking your arm around Gojo’s.
At home, he is Satoru. The notorious heartbreaker, the ‘soulmate’ to many— he has the red strings to prove it. He stares into his reflection, pulling at the pale skin encasing his soul. It feels forlorn, his body is not his own. The distorted image of himself stares back at him, cerulean eyes wide and sunken, completely unblinking. He tries to put on a smile, figurative chains pulling at his cheeks and leaving indents that mock him endlessly.
