GUYS, can we stop normalizing the dadcestâŚlike nooo, makes me so uncomfortable and it keeps popping out everywhere, like why you wanna act like a kid and get fucked by âdadâ? like itâs not even daddy kink itâs straight up just wanting to fuck your dad, HELLO. donât even get me started in the âpet playâ shit, like why you wanna be a dog or cat..i donât get it.
Anyone know some good mark grayson/invincible x reader multi chapter fanfics? For some reason it's difficult to find multi chapter fanfics and I miss reading them. Bonus points if there is angst in it too
"The Emperor's Favourite" is a really good one, it takes place in the comics where an older Mark is emperor of the Viltrum Empire. Basically lonely DILF gets his freak on with a sexy alien warrior (us) Bonus points for MILF Eve đ (they divorced) But very good characterization of them. The author also had a Spider!Reader fic and IT WAS SO GOOD but they deleted all their works đŤŠ
"She Loved You In Every Universe But Mine" is about a reader from an alternate timeline with an evil mark and gets transported into Omni-Mark's timeline where she is his dead girlfriend. LOTS OF ANGST and internal conflicts on both parties.
"And You Know What? Hell Yeah" another person also added this one and I vouch for it.
ChlorineAtom! Gojo x HydrogenAtom! Reader x Hydroxide! Sukuna
Wc: 2k
Synopsis: You and Satoru had everything you both ever wanted in a partner, together, forming the strongest of bonds⌠Or so you thought. That was until a certain base came along to destabilize things <3
Warnings: CRACK!!!, angst, proximity, suggestive, mdni, slighttttt dubcon/noncon (Sukuna steals a smooch lol), yandere! Sukuna if you squint, boyfailure! Gojo lamo, doomed soulmates, tried my best for scientific accuracy some changes made for fiction, Strong Chemicals: Do Not Waft
A/n: Itâs my biochem class and I decide the concept review method
Thank you to @thecutestgrotto and @lunaridae for the dividers!
Life was incredibly rough for ChlorineAtom!Gojo before he met you. Being a lone solute swimming around the walls of his equally measured glass confine came with its challenges. Surrounded by what seemed to be fragments of himself, everywhere, no matter where he went. He could never escape the loneliness, the monotony. It was a dreadful feeling that pooled endlessly within him. Wasting away with no purpose, just a complete vacancy. If his existence had any meaning, he was lost to what it was.Â
However, coming from the top right of the periodic table had its perks, he was one of the strongest halogens around afterall, but what good was that if he was just short of perfection?Â
Seven.Â
He had exactly seven valence electrons in his outer shell. If he were really something to marvel at, he'd have obeyed the octet rule. Only the most stable, noble gasses, had the full eight. What was the point of even trying when he couldnât accomplish anything by his lonesome?
 His power buzzed and crackled with energy, infuriating, but he knew he couldn't act, not yet at least. Despite the solitude and seemingly innumerable minutes to self reflect he was still reactive. Any atom worth their salt knew potential interactions could lead to radioactive decay. Unfortunately heâd have to wait. For what exactly? He didnât quite know yet.
It was just another day merely existing heavily in his sodium chloride solution until suddenly, a radiant light poured in from the heavenly fume hood above, and in came a surge of concentrated sulfuric acid.Â
Without warning, the ground erupted into a feverish flame. It was an immense heat generating a type of energy that made him want to â no, need to move. He couldnât do so in his current state and quickly he sublimated his granulated form to slip into something more entropically favorable. This must be a sign as he began to ascend into the clear plastic tubing. It was during the twisting and turning of travel did he realize-
he wasn't aloneâŚ
There you were. Your body, delicate and gaseous, was ethereally obscured by the pale fog you were emitting.Â
Gorgeous, just beautiful.Â
There was no other way to encapsulate how the light shifted through your fluid motions and reflected off your particles, teasing him, tantalizing him. He dreamt of you condensing your lower half for him.
Unbeknownst to you, Gojo knew youâd be together from the second he saw you. Meanwhile, you were fighting your way through the loops and dips of the apparatus. Having no idea the effect you were having on this haughty halogen.Â
How disorienting! Previously laying dormant in your bottle at peace, when you were rudely thrown into a reaction and forced to vaporize.Â
Perhaps all that outrage would be best to subside. If you were feeling any discomfort, all of that changed irrevocably when you finally met his cerulean voltaic gaze. At once, you both rushed to each other at top speed. You couldnât help it, his acrid bleach-like aroma enveloped you and his partial negative charge was so damn alluring. You just had to have him.Â
Truly it was no surprise you both bonded instantly.Â
  The nature of your connection with Satoru Gojo was inhuman, chemical, to be exact. Your mutual need and desire for one another surpassed all quaint sentient and social systems put into place by âhumansâ and âsocial normsâ. There would be no introductions, no slow dreamy dates, and definitely no extravagant ceremonies that end in tight ties and elaborate dresses pooled on the floor.
Nothing but the way your bodies would be bound to each other. Both inseparable from the moment of contact. Belonging to one another, and both of you wouldn't have it any other way.Â
âNgh â câmon pretty baby just a little more. Youâre doing so good for me. Donât worry about anything else Iâve got you, Iâve got youâ, heâd huff rough and slow, words smoldering your senses as he stuffed your nucleus full of electrons, rutting them in over and over again.Â
Like the true chlorine he is, he never failed on what he promised you. He always held you firm and close, unyielding. You were his treasure, his positivity, cradling you like you were only ever his to behold.Â
He was just so big and oxidative in every way you couldnât help but find sanctuary in his embrace. Despite his size, he never crowded you, never cruelly tugged you too tight. Sure youâd have your fun together, but despite his strength there was tenderness, peace in the proximity.
You were everything he could have ever dreamed of, this was finally it: the god-like titans from above finally bestowed a divine gift to him. No neural tissue aside, heâd be the biggest idiot to ever let you go.
You were afterall, his HydrogenAtom! His perfect compliment. What he lacked in electrons you supplemented him with your single one. Noble gases be damned because your configuration together was sublime. Together you both reached the octet formation.
It made you quite emotional to think about it, what did you ever do to deserve such love, such stability? You always doubted yourself, coming from a place like the top left of the periodic table had other other atoms ostracizing you for only ever having a 1s orbital, calling you worthless and weak. As if you had any control over that. Your petite orbital only made room for two electrons and even then, you could only muster up the strength to carry a measly one, completely incapable of ever filling your valence shell alone.Â
None of it mattered to you anymore.
Especially when Satoru saw you as the atom you were always meant to be.
âHey, look at me glucose,â the little name heâd coined for you reverberated off the translucent flask. Slowly, deliberately, running through your aqueous form, coaxing you to interact. Hesitantly, you turn in his hold to face him. A boyish grin radiates off his face so infectious, that even his eyes seem to be laughing â fondness. âWho cares about how many orbitals you have? Youâre so perfect and you donât even realize the power you have. So can you please stop being mean to my baby, my hydrogen,â you canât even control yourself when you nuzzle yourself deeper into him, the feeling electrifying, perfectly content to stay there forever.Â
How could you not share the only electron you have when he's been exactly the kind of atom you needed? Together you both formed a bond so covalent, polar, and sacred it made even the most charged ions blush. Perched in his hold, you both condensed into a new form, something, highly corrosive, liquid-smooth, HydrochloricAcid!
From that point on, nothing stood in your path together, love so acidic bubbles fluttered around you both in a flurry. Anything that opposed you both would melt and sizzle beneath your mordant gazes, insignificant. Life needed nothing else, just the two of you. Anything else should just blister and disassociate for all you cared.Â
That was until you and Satoru were placed into a new, spacious, larger area. Whatever, you had moved lab equipment so often it never mattered to you. As long as you were with him.Â
You shouldâve noticed something was off when nothing was offered as fodder to burn. That's when it happenedâŚÂ
The expansive fume hood opened with a whirring swoosh, and in seconds, sodium hydroxide splashed into your corrosive home. Instantly the temperature rose uncomfortably. Everything shook violently, blurring your vision and destabilizing everything. Horror spiked through you. You didnât even know the temperature could even get this hot. You couldnât focus, desperately, you tried to attach yourself to Satoru with your electron, your only hope. You cursed yourself silently for only being able to do this much with just a single electron, but you had to try. Panicked and shaky as you were starting to lose your grip on the bond.Â
Your bondâÂ
âDonât worry sweets, Iâm the strongest, remember? Iâm not lettinâ ya go. Ever. Itâll be just the two of us again when this is all over. Iâve got you, even if it's just me holding us together,â his tone was earnest but you could sense the sliver of doubt in his voice. Even he was starting to struggle. It made something sickening and elusive coil up and through your nucleus despite your frantic need for comfort and stability. Â
The battle seemed to have ended before it even started once Hydroxide! Sukuna languidly appeared parting the steaming fizz, and entering like the devil himself.Â
âStrongest huh?â Sukunaâs voice carried a mocking lilt to itâan easiness that came from the confidence of countless chemical reactions won. His presence rattled you. You thought Satoru was large but you couldnât believe the bulky base in front of you. Devouring you whole with just his eyes, wretched grin contorted the planes of his face.Â
âIâd get out of here if I were you, unless you want me to decompose you right here and repel you off? Hm? Makes no difference to me,â Satoruâs smile captured equal aggression, challenging. His eyes were fixed on Sukuna while his grip around you tightened impossibly harder. Â
âTch, all talk for someone who canât even electronegatively attract for shit. Iâm going to enjoy this,â not one to mince words, he lunged, faster than instinct. Winding back an attackâÂ
Malevolent Sodium.
Wordlessly Satoru moves his body to shield yours.Â
Sukuna wasn't aiming for you anyway.
 The impact connects with Satoru and itâs excruciating. Completely bombarded by the sheer force of the attack and he feels the palpable increase of the pH, feeling his own Pka value change. He was already struggling to hold you with the escalating temperature, the vibrations wearing down on him. However, the sodium latched on to him, unexpectedly, and dragged him down, deep under.
Your bond was cleaved.Â
Leaving you exposed and trembling, you try to dive down further into the solution, to find satoru, your love. Sukuna however, doesnât even entertain the thought as he snatches you up in one fluid motion, pressing you firmly onto his liquid form.Â
You couldnât move, your motions, sluggish and heavy. This feeling is spread throughout your incorporeal matter as you are adhered to him. Bound. He took so much more of you than you'd realized. Writhing and struggling, you physically couldnât seem to break free. Is this what strong electronegativity feels like? Why do you feel so full? So complete? Why does it feel so⌠The guilt bites down, snapping you out of it. Â
âNo! You canât do this â get away from me, Iâm with Satoru- Mnh!â you divert your eyes in defiance since the effect he had on you caused your particles to feel insurmountably heavy.   Â
âNone of that protium,â He grabs you almost enough to hurt, forcing you to eye him. Thereâs an intense craving in his scrutiny. His comment addressed you as your simplest form, stripping you completely bare. It shuts you up. âYouâre lucky I tolerate that mouth on you,â leaning in leering, he overwhelms your mouth with his, wet and heavy, memorizing each ridge and groove. When he finally breaks, itâs with a resounding pop. His tongue dragged over his lips in satisfaction.
âYou monster, you brute!â Hot watery tears welled up and began to spill, leaking out into the aqueous solution. Sukuna made no attempt to swipe them away.Â
âThatâs right brat, let it out. Weâre neutralizing the hell out of this pH â youâll learn to take it eventually.â
Deprotonation
It felt like a death sentence to any acid. You were his baby. The only one he ever wanted to bond to for eternity. Now brutally stripped away in an irreversible exergonic reaction.Â
Negative was beyond an understatement to what Satoru was feeling, but that didn't negate the charge that loomed over him. Useless, pathetic, he couldn't even hold on to what mattered the most. Now he lay at the bottom of the beaker, a spectator, bound to an insignificant sodium when all he yearns for is you.Â
In the beginning he believed to be able to fight him off, but as time went on that vile titration that Sukuna came from didn't stop, just slowly settling to a steady drip. Even so, the solution would become undeniably basic, influencing his presence, his hold over you.
Dammit if there was just more of himself out there he could have followed through on his promise.
No.
He will. One day. No matter how long it takes, he will find a way to covalently bond with you again. Anything to feel your bubbly self come back to him. As for now, heâll just have to bang on the sides of the beaker hoping to the gods draped in white coats up above make his presence more abundant. To have you in his embrace and together, youâll be able to neutralize that bastard for good.
Š 2026 All works here made by roasted-retina, you CANNOT reproduce, repost, translate/post anywhere, or feed to any AI platform/create bots
Samantha Eve Wilkins with a civilian!comic book nerd!s/o (could be read as POLY!Markeve too btw)
@tomies-journal since my sibby wanted to be tagged! âĽ
Of course, you know about her powers.
You're the first person who hasn't pressured her or tried to tell her how to use HER OWN powers other than Mark and she loves that about you.
You, Mark and Eve hangout and just listen to music, obvi you and Mark have your noses in comic books, probably Seance dog or something of the sort.
She likes to be helpful!! Like if there's a stain on your shirt or you just don't like the texture, she'll use her powers to fix it!
She's the type of gf to just wanna lay around for a day at least once a week and just,,, play with your hair,, kiss your face and talk to you about her whole week
Ofc with being a hero,, time together is sometimes pretty rare
When Eve and Mark go off on missions you're left on earth just twiddling your thumbs basically
OH OH she would absolutely create a little earpiece for you, just so even if her and Mark are off in space you guys can still talk.
Eve is the type to create a rose from thin air and just leave it on your bed before going off on patrol just as a littol apology for leaving.
If you don't have Eve,usually you'll have Mark!
He's so awkward he'd probably just be like "do you.. want to hang out with me?"
You'll watch an action movie or something
Probably into spiderman, considering he has in fact met him once.
When Eve gets back,, y'all take a shower together.
Yes. Three people in one shower, very crowded and romantic.
Ofc if it's too small Eve can just make it big enough anyway
Eve is clingy!!! She hates being away from you and Mark at all ever in any situation
Hence her making you an earpiece so you ALL can communicate at any time
Which definitely leads to your earpiece pinging at like 4AM,, only for Eve's voice to come through it "You still awake?"
If you weren't, you are now.
And she's knocking on your bedroom window a few seconds later whether you respond or not.
Naturally, Mark is there soon after.
CUDDLE PILE WHILE ALL THREE OF YOU MAKE OUT AND HOLD EACH OTHER!!
They're both handsy btw they love PDA always.
Like they don't gaf whether they're in costume or not their hands are on you.
Mark's favourite show of affection is kissing and hair playing meanwhile Eve's would be,,, hugging, kissing, and just touching any part of you or Mark.
popular!eve wilkins and loser lesbian!reader get paired up for a architecture project! âą 5k words, some religious trauma, reader has a huge crush on eve, fingering (+18) Ë.âŚ
You haven't met anyone in university that didn't know Eve Wilkins. She was a literal dream come true; long, silky ginger hair, gorgeous body, big green eyes and that natural beauty that makes everyone sigh.
And on top of that, she was incredibly nice and friendly with everyone. When you were lucky enough to talk to her, she never breaks eye contact, she smiles at you and she listens.
Again, a dream girl.
Your dream girl, to be fair. Because you, with all the other boys, were crushing on her. How could you not? It felt like someone cast a spell on you to like Eve Wilkins.
The only problem is that you were a girl. And Eve Wilkins was the archetype of a nice straight girl.
You and Eve have three classes together, all dedicated to architecture. She would always sit in the middle of the class, slightly close to the window. You would choose a seat a few rows back so you can stare at her without looking weird.
Was that a little creepy? Maybe. Probably. But again, her silky hair and how she runs a hand through it every once in a while. Her perfect manicured fingers, nails painted in a light pink shade, threading in the hair. It was such a pretty sight.
Most of the time you aren't listening to the teacher. You're either looking at Eve or at the window. So you totally miss the moment where she announced a project and the moment she started saying the pairs for it.
You freeze when she drops into the chair next to you like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
Her perfume hits first, something warm and expensive that smells like vanilla and cherry. Then her hair brushes your shoulder for half a second as she leans in to set her sketchbook down, and your brain short-circuits.
âThose rings are insane,â she says, voice soft but genuinely delighted.
She reaches out without asking, fingertips barely grazing the silver band on your index finger, the one with the tiny crescent moon soldered into it.
"Ah, thank you." You are still processing everything. Was she touching your hand at this moment? Fuck, she was.
She smiles and turns her whole body toward you like youâre the only person in the room. âTheyâre beautiful. You have really good taste.â
Your mouth opens. What comes out is a strangled, high-pitched version of:
âI, um... you donât have to do this. With me. If you want to switch or I can just do my half alone, itâs fine, I donât want to drag you down orââ
Eveâs hand lands lightly on your forearm.
Not hard. Not pitying. Just⌠there.
âWoah,â she says, and her voice drops to something quieter, more serious. âStop.â
You stop breathing.
âI want to do this project with you,â she says. âI literally asked Professor Lang to pair us.â
You blink. Several times. âYou⌠you what?â
She laughs under her breath, a little embarrassed, and tucks a strand of that impossible ginger hair behind her ear.
âI saw your models last semester. The way you layer materials; the brass mesh over the resin, the way you let light bend through it instead of just bouncing off. Itâs⌠different. In a good way. Iâve been wanting to work with you since the mid-term review.â
Your heart is doing something violent against your ribs. âBut you couldâve picked anyone. Literally anyone.â
Eve tilts her head, studying you like you just said something adorable and ridiculous at the same time.
âYeah,â she says softly. âI couldâve. I picked you.â
The silence stretches. Her green eyes havenât left yours once.
You swallow. âWhy?â
She doesnât answer right away. Instead she leans in a fraction closer, until you can count the faint freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose.
âBecause,â she murmurs, âYou look really cool. And I looove cool people.â
Your pulse roars in your ears.
She smiles again, smaller this time, almost privateâand taps the edge of your sketchbook with one perfect fingernail.
âSo. Brutalist library with a public garden roof. You want to start with the structural grid or the light studies?â
You stare at her for another stupid second, brain still lagging several frames behind.
Then you turn your sketchbook toward her.
âLight studies,â you manage. Your voice only shakes a little. âIâve been thinking about how the pergola slats could fracture sunlight across the reading tables. Like⌠stained glass but brutal.â
Eveâs whole face lights up.
âFuck yes,â she breathes. âShow me.â
And just like that, she scoots her chair closer until your knees are almost touching under the table, opens her own sketchbook, and waits for you to start talking.
For the first time in three semesters of architecture school, someone is waiting to hear what you have to say.
And itâs her.
She gave you her phone number after the class. Insisting to meet in your dorm because her home is always a mess. You really didn't ask any questions. But still you tided your room up before she knocked so she has a good impression of you.
"Hiii," she waves at you when you opened the door for her.
The first thing you notice is her hair in the loose braid and the pink tank top with low waisted jeans. Did she always wear something pink or what?
"Hey," you say simply. "Uh, come in! I got some ideas written, if you want to hear them."
"Woah, is that a But I'm a Cheerleader poster?"
Eveâs eyes are wide and sparkling as she steps fully inside, backpack still slung over one shoulder, head tilted like sheâs just discovered buried treasure on your wall.
You close the door behind her, heart doing that stupid triple-step it always does when sheâs within ten feet. âYeah. I, uh⌠found it at this weird thrift shop off campus last year.â
She spins to face you, braid swinging, grin so bright it should come with a warning label. âIâve watched that movie like⌠minimum five times. Probably more. I made my roommate in first year watch it with me and she pretended to hate it but I caught her crying at the end.â
You blink. âYou cried?â
âUgly cried,â she says without hesitation, dropping her bag on your desk chair and flopping cross-legged onto the edge of your bed like sheâs been here a hundred times. âThe whole âyou donât have to be fixedâ thing just⌠wrecked me. My parents are very religious, and I spent so long thinking something was wrong with me because I didnât feel the way the pastor said girls were supposed to feel. Then I saw Megan and Graham and it was like⌠oh. Oh. Someone made a whole movie about this exact feeling.â
She stops, suddenly self-conscious, and rubs the back of her neck. âSorry. I just infodumped all over your room.â
âNo, no, keep going,â you say way too fast. You sit on the desk chair across from her, knees pulled up, trying to look casual and probably failing. âI mean⌠same. I watched it the summer before senior year of high school and it felt like someone finally explained why Iâd been walking around feeling like I was defective. Like, the scene where theyâre in conversion therapy doing those stupid exercises? Iâd lived versions of that in my head for years.â
Eve nods slowly, eyes locked on yours again in that unnerving, beautiful way she has. âExactly. And then the ending when they just⌠choose each other anyway. I think about that ending a lot.â
You swallow. âMe too.â
A beat of quiet. Not awkward, exactly. More like the air got heavier in a good way.
She leans forward a little, elbows on her knees. âCan I ask you something kind of personal?â
Your stomach drops through the floor. âSure.â
âAre youâŚ?â She hesitates, then just goes for it. âAre you a lesbian?â
You feel your face heat instantly. Thereâs no point in lying. Sheâs looking right at you, and youâre pretty sure your pupils are doing cartoon-heart things.
âYeah,â you say. âI am.â
Eve studies you for half a second longer.
Then she smiles and says:
âCute.â
One word.
Thatâs it.
Cute.
Your brain flatlines.
Cute?
CUTE?
Youâre suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you. The way her tank top dips just enough to show the delicate gold chain resting against her collarbone. The faint flush on her cheeks that might be from the walk over or might be from this conversation. The way her fingers are playing absently with the frayed hem of her jeans like sheâs nervous too.
You want to die. You also want to frame the word âcuteâ and hang it on your wall next to the poster.
She doesnât seem to notice the internal combustion youâre experiencing. She just keeps talking, like she didnât just detonate your entire nervous system with a single syllable.
âAnyway,â she says, reaching for her sketchbook like nothing happened, âI was thinking about the idea you mentioned last class. What if we made the slats adjustable? Like⌠louvers. So the light changes with the time of day, but also the users could control how much privacy or openness they want in each reading nook. Does that sound stupid?â
You blink hard. Force your mouth to form words. âNo. Thatâs⌠thatâs actually genius. We could tie it to the brutalist thing too. Raw concrete channels for the mechanisms so it feels industrial but still human.â
Her face lights up again. âYes. Yes. And maybe small water features under some of the benches? Not a full fountain, just a trickle so you hear it while you read. White noise but alive.â
Youâre nodding before she even finishes. âIâve got some reference photos of the Salk Institute courtyardâthat hard geometry with the water channel. We could steal that feeling but soften it with the garden.â
She scoots closer on the bed until her knee bumps yours. Doesnât move it away.
âShow me,â she says, voice dropping into that excited hush she gets when sheâs really into an idea.
You grab your laptop, pull up the folder labeled âLIGHT & SHADOWâ (because of course you have a folder labeled LIGHT & SHADOW), and angle the screen so she can see. Your shoulders are almost touching now. Her braid brushes your arm when she leans in.
âGod,â she murmurs, scrolling slowly through the images. âYou take really beautiful reference shots. These are yours, right? Not just pulled off Pinterest?â
âYeah,â you mumble. âI walk around with my camera a lot. Especially early morning when the lightâs stupidly good.â
She glances sideways at you. âYou should shoot the model once we build it. Like⌠documentary style. Before, during, after. Iâd watch that.â
You laugh. âYouâd watch me take bad Canon pictures of foam core?â
âIâd watch you do literally anything,â she says.
Casual.
Like itâs nothing.
Your heart stops, restarts, then immediately redlines.
She doesnât look away. Just keeps that soft, open expression, like sheâs waiting for you to catch up.
You clear your throat. âWe, uh⌠should probably sketch the grid first. Before we get too far into aesthetics.â
She nods, but sheâs smiling like she knows exactly what she just did to you.
âOkay,â she says sweetly. âBut only if you promise to tell me more about why you love that movie so much. I want the full directorâs cut commentary.â
You stare at her.
She bumps your knee with hers again.
âDeal?â she asks.
Your voice comes out hoarse. âDeal.â
She grins, grabs one of your pencils, and starts doodling little adjustable slats in the margin of your sketchbook.
And you sit there thinking:
Cute.
She called you cute.
And now sheâs drawing in your sketchbook and her knee is still touching yours and youâre pretty sure youâre never going to recover from this afternoon.
The project wraps up around 2 a.m. on a Thursday night that technically bleeds into Friday. Youâre both sprawled on your tiny dorm bed because the desk chair became unbearable hours ago, sketch models and half-finished render prints scattered across the comforter like battlefield casualties. The brutalist library with its adjustable-louver roof and whispering water channels is finally done and submitted at 1:47 a.m. via the class portal with thirty seconds to spare.
Eve lets out this long, dramatic exhale and flops backward so her head lands on your pillow, ginger braid half-unraveled now, strands fanning out like spilled sunset.
âWe did it. We actually fucking did it. Iâm never looking at concrete the same way again.â
Youâre sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, laptop still open on your thighs even though the screenâs gone dark. âYeah. Itâs⌠good. Really good. Your section perspectives saved it. The way you drew the light hitting the water, Professor Lang is gonna lose his mind.â
She props herself up on her elbows, grinning. âYou wrote the entire materiality report in, what, forty-five minutes? While I was panicking about font choice? Youâre secretly a machine.â
âIâm secretly terrified of failing,â you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your hoodie sleeve. âDifferent thing.â
Eve laughs, the kind of laugh that makes other people in the dorm hallway pause and wonder whatâs so funny. âYouâre so dramatic. Youâre literally one of the best in the class and you act like youâre about to get deported back to high school.â
You shrug, cheeks warm. âI just⌠donât want to mess it up. Especially not with you.â
She tilts her head, smile softening. âYou didnât mess anything up. We make a stupidly good team. Iâm already dreading next semester when I have to do projects without you.â
Your stomach flips so hard you almost drop the laptop.
She doesnât let the silence settle. She never does. Instead she rolls onto her side, facing you fully, cheek squished against your pillow.
âWhat are you doing after this? Like, right now. Are you gonna crash or are you one of those freaks who pulls an all-nighter and then goes to a 9 a.m. lecture like itâs nothing?â
âI was⌠probably gonna stare at the ceiling until my eyes hurt and then panic about whether we forgot to label the drainage details.â
âPredictable.â She reaches out and flicks your knee lightly with her finger. âWrong answer. Weâre celebrating. You have snacks, right? Everyone has emergency snacks.â
You blink. âUh⌠thereâs some stale Goldfish in the bottom drawer and half a pack of Sour Patch Kids that might be from last semester.â
âElite. Hand them over.â
You lean over, fish them out, pass the bag. She rips it open, pops a gummy in her mouth, then holds one out to you between her fingers.
âOpen.â
You freeze.
She raises an eyebrow, teasing. âDonât make me feed you like a baby bird. Open.â
You part your lips. She places the gummy on your tongue with exaggerated care, fingertips brushing the corner of your mouth for half a second. Your brain briefly ceases to function.
She grins like she knows exactly what she just did. âSee? Celebration achieved.â
You chew slowly, trying to remember how words work. âYouâre⌠really good at this.â
âAt what?â
âMaking everything feel easy. Fun. Iâm usually alone in my room spiraling and you just show up and itâs like⌠party mode.â
Eveâs expression shifts. âI like being around you. Youâre quiet, but not in a boring way. In a⌠thinking way. And when you do talk, itâs always something interesting. I never feel like I have to perform around you.â
You swallow. âI feel like I have to perform around everyone. Especially you.â
âWhy especially me?â
Because youâre you, you want to say. Because youâre beautiful and kind and everyone wants you and Iâm just⌠me.
Instead you mumble, âYouâre popular. And nice. And Iâm⌠not those things.â
She snorts. âPopular? Iâm just loud and I know a lot of peopleâs names. Thatâs not the same. And youâre nice. Youâre so nice itâs actually painful sometimes. You spent twenty minutes explaining shadow studies to that freshman who didn't even know your name.â
You laugh despite yourself. âYeah, don't remind me.â
âSee? Youâre memorable. In the best way.â She shifts closer while she talks, like gravity just decided to help her out. Her knee presses against your thigh now. She doesnât move it.
Youâre suddenly very aware of how small your bed is. How close her face is. How her tank top slipped off one shoulder sometime in the last hour and you can see the faint freckle constellation there.
She keeps talking, voice dropping softer. âYou know what I like most about hanging out with you?â
You shake your head, barely breathing.
âYou donât try to impress me. You just exist. And itâs nice. I spend so much time around people who want something and with you I can just be. No agenda.â
Your throat is tight. âI do want something.â
She stills. Eyes flick to your mouth, then back up. âYeah?â
âI want more of this.â You gesture vaguely between you. âThe talking. Being around you. I just⌠donât know how to ask for it without sounding like a loser.â
Eveâs lips curve. âYouâre not a loser. Youâre cute when youâre nervous, though. Itâs my favorite version of you.â
There it is again. Cute.
Your heart slams so hard youâre sure she can hear it.
She moves again, deliberate this time. Scoots up until sheâs sitting right beside you, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Then she turns her whole body toward you, one hand coming up to rest lightly on the mattress near your knee. The other reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. Her fingers linger there, tracing the shell of your ear so softly itâs almost not there.
You stop breathing entirely.
Sheâs so close now you can see the different shades of green in her eyes: pine and emerald and something almost gold in the lamplight. Her breath smells faintly of Sour Patch Kids and vanilla lip balm.
âHave you ever kissed a girl?â she whispers.
"Uh... no. Not really." You're trembling right now, you can't believe this is happening to you at this moment.
"Have you ever kissed anyone?" she asks again, blinking slowly.
"No..."
Eve lowers her gaze to your bodies, eyes filled with desire and excitement.
"Would you let me your first kiss?"
"Yes!" you say it almost instantly. "Yes, please."
Her smile is instantaneous, bright and relieved. She leans in the last few inches, forehead resting against yours first, like sheâs giving you one final chance to bolt.
You donât.
So she closes the distance.
The kiss is slow. Careful. Like sheâs memorizing you. Her lips are soft and warm. One hand cups your jaw; the other slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair.
You kiss her back, tentative at first, then braver when she makes this pleased sound against your mouth.
When she finally pulls back, her eyes are glassy and her cheeks are flushed.
âHi,â she says, breathless, grinning like an idiot.
âHi,â you manage. Your voice cracks on the single syllable.
She laughs quietly, presses another quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. âYouâre shaking.â
âAm not.â
âYou are.â She takes your hand, laces your fingers together, squeezes. âItâs cute.â
âStop saying that word.â
âNuh uh.â
She kisses you againâdeeper this time, braver. You melt into it. Her hands find your waist, hesitant, then firmer when she sighs into your mouth like sheâs been waiting for this forever. She pulls you closer to her until you are practically straddling her legs.
Her whole body is warm, the mix of heat, taste and sounds making you total mess. At some point, with her hands touching your back, waist and hips, you can't help but let out a needy whimper.
You feel your cheeks burn, and Eve breaks the kiss to just stare at you with a smirk. Her lips are shiny, even more when she licks them to collect all the saliva you left there.
Eveâs smirk softens into something warmer, almost tender, as she watches the flush crawl down your neck. She doesnât laugh at the whimper, she just studies you like youâre the most fascinating thing sheâs ever seen.
âHey,â she murmurs, thumb brushing slow circles over the apple of your cheek. âThat sound you just made? Fucking gorgeous. Donât hide it.â
You duck your head anyway. âI-I didnât mean toââ
âAh-ah-ah.â She catches your chin gently, lifts your face back up so you have to meet her eyes. âI want to hear more of them. A lot more.â
Your breath hitches. Youâre still in her lap, thighs bracketing hers, her hands resting loose and warm on your hips like sheâs giving you permission to bolt at any second. But you donât want to bolt. You want to disappear into her. You just have no idea what comes next.
Eve seems to read it on your face. She leans in, presses the softest kiss to the corner of your jaw, then another just below your ear.
âTalk to me,â she whispers against your skin. âTell me what feels good so far. And what doesnât. No wrong answers.â
You swallow hard. âEverything⌠everything feels good. Too good. Iâm just nervous. Really nervous.â
âYeah?â She pulls back enough to look at you properly, green eyes steady and patient. âThatâs okay. We can go as slow as you need. Or stop. Or just kiss like this for the rest of the night. Whatever you want.â
You shake your head quickly. âI donât want to stop.â
âThat's good. Me neither.â She strokes your sides lightly, thumbs brushing the hem of your hoodie. âCan I take this off? Or is that too fast?â
Your heart jackhammers. âYou can. I mean, if you want.â
âI want,â she says simply. âBut only if you do.â
You nod, lifting your arms like youâre a kid being undressed for bed. She laughs under her breath and peels the hoodie over your head. Cool air hits your skin and you instinctively hunch your shoulders, suddenly hyper-aware of the thin tank top underneath, the way your nipples are already peaked against the fabric from nerves and arousal and the fact that Eve fucking Wilkins is looking at you like this.
She doesnât stare like itâs a performance. She just looks. Appreciative. Hungry, but careful.
âGod,â she breathes. âYouâre so pretty.â
You make a small, disbelieving noise.
âIâm serious.â She traces one finger down the center of your chest, between your breasts, slow enough that you feel every millimeter. âIâve been thinking about this for weeks. Imagining what youâd look like under all those oversized hoodies.â
âWeeks?â Your voice cracks.
âMhm.â She leans in, kisses the hollow of your throat. âSince the first time you explained your light studies in class and I couldnât stop staring at your mouth while you talked.â
You whimper againâquieter this time, but she still hears it. Her teeth graze your pulse point, just enough to make your hips jerk forward involuntarily.
âThere it is,â she murmurs, pleased. âYou like when I use my teeth a little?â
âIâyeah. I think so.â
âNoted.â She does it again, softer, then soothes the spot with her tongue. âWhat else? You can say anything. Or nothing. I can just keep guessing if you want.â
You bury your face in her shoulder for a second, gathering courage. âI like⌠when you talk. Like this. Telling me what youâre doing. Or what you want.â
Eve hums approval against your neck. âYou like being talked through it?â
Heat floods your face. âYeah.â
âFuck, thatâs hot.â She pulls back so she can see you again. âOkay. Then Iâll keep talking. And you tell me if anything feels off. Promise?â
âPromise.â
She kisses you again, tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your thighs clench around her hips. When she breaks it, sheâs breathing harder.
âHands up,â she says quietly.
You obey instantly. She slips your tank top off in one smooth motion, tosses it somewhere behind her. Then she just looks, taking in the way your chest rises and falls too fast, the faint goosebumps everywhere, the way youâre already arching toward her without meaning to.
âCan I touch you here?â Her palm hovers over one breast, not quite making contact.
âPlease.â
She cups you gently at first, thumb brushing over your nipple in a slow circle. You gasp. She does it again, firmer, and your head tips back.
âSensitive,â she notes, voice rough. She leans down, replaces her thumb with her mouth, tongue flicking once, twice, then sucking lightly.
Your hips buck hard. A broken sound spills out of you before you can stop it.
Eve pulls off with a soft pop, looks up at you through her lashes. âToo much?â
âNoâno, keepâkeep going.â
She smiles against your skin. âTell me what you want next.â
You hesitate, then whisper, âYour hand⌠lower.â
She doesnât tease you for it. Just kisses a slow path down your sternum, your stomach, while her fingers trace the waistband of your sweats.
âThese okay to come off?â
You nod frantically.
She hooks her fingers under the elastic, drags them down your thighs along with your underwear in one careful motion. You lift your hips to help, trembling the whole time.
When youâre bare in front of her, she pauses letting her eyes roam.
âJesus,â she mutters. âYouâre beautiful.â
You start to protest out of habit, but she silences you with a look.
âI mean it.â She settles between your legs again, hands sliding up the insides of your thighs, spreading you gently. âAnd Iâm gonna make you feel so good, okay? Just breathe for me.â
You try. Itâs hard when sheâs looking at you like that.
She drags one finger through your folds and groans low in her throat when she feels how wet you already are.
âFuck, baby. All this for me?â
You canât speak. Just nod, hips twitching toward her hand.
She circles your clit once and you jolt like youâve been shocked.
âToo much?â she checks immediately.
âNo! Just sensitive. Really sensitive.â
âOkay. Easy.â She kisses your neck again. âIâll go slow. Tell me if you want more, or less, or different. Anything.â
You manage a shaky, âMore. Please.â
She smiles against your skin, then presses two fingers inside you, letting you adjust. You both moan at the same time.
âGood?â she whispers.
âSo good.â
She curls them slightly, searching, and when she finds that spot your whole body arches.
âThere?â she asks, already knowing.
You can only whimper.
She keeps that rhythm while her thumb brushes your clit in lazy circles. Her other hand strokes your hip, grounding you.
âLook at me,â she says softly.
You force your eyes open. Sheâs watching your face like sheâs memorizing every flicker, every gasp.
âYouâre doing so well,â she murmurs. âLetting me touch you like this. Letting me see you fall apart. So fucking pretty.â
The praise hits harder than her fingers. You clench around her, hips rocking instinctively.
âClose?â she asks.
You nod, frantic.
âTell me when. I want to feel it.â
A few more strokes, her long fingers hitting all the perfect spots, and youâre there.
âEve, Eve, Iâmââ
âIâve got you,â she whispers. âCome for me, baby.â
You shatter around her fingers with a choked cry, thighs shaking, hands fisting the sheets. She doesnât stop, just works you through it slow and gentle until youâre whimpering because of the aftershocks.
When you finally collapse, boneless, she eases her fingers out, kisses your jaw once more, then crawls back up to lie beside you. Pulls you into her arms like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
Youâre still trembling. She strokes your hair, your back, murmuring soft nonsense against your temple.
âYou okay?â she asks after a minute.
You nod against her collarbone. âMore than okay.â
She smilesâyou can feel it. âGood. Weâre nowhere near done.â
You laugh, shaky and happy. âYouâre gonna kill me.â
âOnly in the best way.â She kisses your forehead. âRest for a sec. Then itâs your turn to tell me what you want to try next.â
You bury your face in her neck, smiling so wide it hurts.
For once, you donât feel like a nervous, inexperienced loser.
You just feel wanted.
And itâs the best thing youâve ever felt.
a/n: this might be cliche but it's been a long time since i don't write for eve and i missed my gorgeous girl so much
pairings: Poly!SaShiSu x f!Reader
synopsis: even in spite of it all, you crawl home to her.
inspired by Hozier's "Work Song"
tags: angst, (some) fluff, mentions of death, grief/grieving, hurt/comfort
notes: here it is! tysm for everyone who waited so very patiently for this fic, i love you all to bits!! dividers by @uzmacchiato and @kodaswrld. fanart by @neuchimonai on twitter & bluesky.
Hozier project m.list
wc: 2,054
It's a chilly evening for the summertime in Tokyo, and you can feel the cold nipping at the flesh of your exposed arms as you slide the key into the lock of your front door.
Eagerly, you press your weight into the wood after hearing the satisfying click of the deadbolt receding, sighing a breath of relief as the warmth of home floods your being.
Smiling softly to yourself, you move to slip off your shoes, glancing up at the photo that decorates the otherwise plain wall beside the coat rack. It depicts a much younger you alongside much younger versions of your partners, playing a game of chicken on a beach somewhere.
In it, you're sitting atop Shoko's shoulders, hands clasped with Satoru's in an effort to unseat him, while beneath you, Suguru and Shoko are playfully glaring at one another, hands poised in a threat to grab.
It's a fond memory of a happy moment, one taken just a few months after you'd all given up on the whole "just really close friends who happen to kiss sometimes" thing and finally started officially dating.
Your expression softens a bit as you recall that it was Haibara who took that photo of you all - and you swear that you can almost hear his laughter behind the camera even all these years later.
You miss him.
You miss a lot about those days.
Still, you shake off that thought before it can fester into something unmanageable, lining your shoes up beside the only other pair before walking deeper into the home.
The hallway greets you with more snapshots, each frame a breadcrumb trail of who you used to be - who you all were together.
Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko all asleep on your bedroom floor after a long night of cramming for a test the following day.
Shoko trying to teach Satoru reversed curse technique while he shamelessly attempted to cop a feel.
You donning a cone shaped hat labelled 'birthday girl!' while Suguru and Shoko kissed each of your cheeks - Satoru grinning wide and offering the camera a peace sign as he snaps the closest thing to an early 2000s selfie that your old film camera had allowed at the time.
All four of you at some arcade somewhere, your ring finger adorned with a comically large fake ring that Satoru had "proposed" to you with as you and Shoko watched him and Suguru try to beat one another at some ridiculous fighting game.
But, of course, eventually things started to change. The photos began to grow more recent, and as they did, Suguru's absence from them became glaringly apparent.
Still, there were moments of happiness to be found - even in spite of the ache that always seemed to follow their memory.
Like the photo of you, Shoko, and Satoru at the former's med school graduation, each of you with an arm wrapped proudly around her waist as she held up her diploma.
Her hair was longer there than it was in any of the previous pictures. She'd decided to grow it out after Suguru's departure, and you'd never needed to ask her why.
Or in the next image, which depicted you and Satoru brushing your teeth in the bathroom mirror, mouths foamy with toothpaste and eyelids heavy with sleep.
You were pretty sure that your boyfriend had taken that to accompany one of his many good morning texts to your shared girlfriend, who was always up before both you and Satoru (at least on the days where the latter got to sleep at all).
Shoko always said that it was one of her favorites, a reminder of the pair of idiots who made her look forward to coming home each evening.
Still, the next one was probably the one you adored most.
In it, Satoru slept peacefully, his head resting atop your girlfriend's lap. The woman in question held the camera (aka her phone) far above the two of them, a playful and clearly exaggerated frown on her face that seemed to say 'really?'.
There was a book on her chest, propped open to the page she had paused her reading on (most likely having realized that the person she'd been reading to was actually fast asleep).
If you looked close enough, you could just make out the cover - one of many pregnancy and parenting guides that had begun quietly piling up around your apartment back then.
And yet, none of the photos on the walls showed a child. Not a single one.
And eventually, Satoru disappeared too.
In spite of it all though, the beautiful moments persist, unaware of absence or grief.
Like the day that Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara all graduated, you and Shoko stood proud and smiling at their sides.
Or the day that you proposed to her, down on one knee with that ridiculous ring that Satoru had given you all those years ago.
Or the day that the two of you got married - a private little ceremony with very few guests save for the students you loved so dearly and the ashes of those who should have been there with you held in lockets pressed close to your hearts.
But there should have been more.
You wished beyond anything else in the world that there could have been more.
Pets, and babies, and achievements, and black hair, and blue eyes, and love beyond measure.
But still, you at least found that last thing waiting for you in the kitchen.
Shoko stood there, bathed in the gentle candlelight emitted by what had once been Suguru's favorite scent of candle and the soft glow of the bulb above, expression one of adorable concentration as she read over a recipe from the box of organized index cards that sat atop your kitchen counter.
You take a step forward, eager to feel the steady and certain weight of her held in your arms, but falter when you see a door you don't recognize on the wall just opposite of the place she stands.
It looks incredibly out of place, the bright white light that creeps out from under it a stark contrast to the honeyed warmth that the bulb above you gives off.
And even stranger still, your wife doesn't pay it any mind at all.
Nor does she seem to even realize that you're there.
You watch her for a few moments, throat tightening for reasons you don't quite understand before finally, you tear your gaze away and bring it back to the strange door.
It's a plain stark white, sticking out like a sore thumb, and the hardware is a clinical and cold looking steel, a jarring difference from the bronze knobs and hinges that exist within your home.
You don't think you want to step through, some voice in the back of your head insisting that you shouldn't, but in the end you find yourself turning the handle before you've even realized that you moved at all.
And when the door opens, the light is nearly blinding in comparison to the dark warmth of your apartment.
Bright, white, clean in a way that suggests the absence of dirt as a whole, as if this place has never known dust, decay, or any of the other messy things that life guarantees.
Something in you registers this space as some sort of airport, an area made for transitions, but that hardly matters when you notice the two figures sitting on a bench nearby.
They smile at you as if they'd never left, like it had all been some sort of awful nightmare and this was the part where you finally got to wake up.
But you were starting to remember now.
So this time, you knew better.
They make a space for you between them as you approach, gazes full of subtle sorrow and obvious longing.
"Back so soon?"
Suguru teases lightly, fingers gentle as he brushes something wet from your cheek.
His thumb comes away stained red, but neither of you acknowledge it.
Satoru speaks up before you can formulate a response.
âYou should really be more careful,â he says, mirroring Suguruâs teasing. âThis is your third mission-related accident this year.â
He pauses for a moment, blue eyes seeking out yours before he continues,
âIf you miss us, just say that. No need for all the dramatics.â
And, despite the leaden feeling in your chest, you laugh, eyes rolling and smile trembling as your head falls upon his shoulder, fingers linking with Suguru's in the same moment.
"I miss you guys."
The words are barely above a whisper as they're spoken, but you've long since learned that they don't have to be.
This is far from your first time here, and you doubt that it will be your last.
Still, it never really got any easier.
A calm quiet fills the space, the warmth on either side of you a welcome feeling after having gone so long without it.
However, it isn't long before someone speaks up once more.
"You can always stay."
Suguru reminds you, tone laced with sympathy as his hand squeezes yours,
"You can only put this off for so long."
Still, you can tell from his voice alone that he already knows what you'll say next.
Your eyes are full of grief and certainty as they meet his own once more.
"I can't leave her."
Three pairs of eyes look back toward the open doorway all at once, gazing into the life that anchors you.
Shoko is still stood there in the kitchen, back to the counter as she checks the time on her phone, fingers tapping the back of the device in that way they always do when she starts to get anxious.
You wince a bit as you watch her answer a phone call soon after, something dangerously close to panic marring her beautiful features before she suddenly rushes off in the direction of the front door.
"We need each other."
Your words are whispered, lips pulling into a thin line as they're spoken.
"I could never go before she does. Not as long as I can help it."
You feel Satoru press a kiss to your temple, tone uncharacteristically serious as he speaks.
"And if you can't?"
The obvious guilt in his voice makes your heart clench.
He never meant to leave you both behind.
That choice was never his to make.
You feel yourself shake your head in response, slowly raising it from his shoulder as you prepare yourself for yet another painful goodbye.
"I won't let that happen. I can't give myself the option of letting go - not when she's waiting."
You can feel the two men exchange a glance above your head, but they make no attempt to talk you out of your decision. They'd given up on such a feat a long time ago.
Two pairs of soft lips find each of your cheeks, but you don't have it in you to look at either of your partners as you finally move to stand, gaze focused solely on the nearby doorway.
You worry that if you glance back, you'll give in.
There's never anything easy about leaving two thirds of your heart behind, even when you know it's the right thing to do.
They could wait a little longer, and so could you.
As long as it took.
As long as she needed.
There is no closure as you step through the door, no words of comfort shared before your sharp return to reality.
That peace was reserved solely for the end.
You wake up to white walls and a stiff mattress beneath your back.
And still, even despite the less than comfortable accommodations, Shoko's clinic is always a welcome sight.
"You came back."
The voice that comes from your right is familiar and followed shortly by a hand that comes to entwine itself with your own.
You don't have to look to see who it is, but you do anyway, because no matter what, it could never possibly be enough.
Shoko sits at your bedside, deep brown eyes meeting yours, allowing you to see the unspoken devotion that shows plainly within them.
You squeeze her hand then, knowing you made the right choice.
Someday, you would all be together again, and things would be as they should.
I BET ON LOSING DOGS | GOJO SATORU X READER & SASHISU X READER âĽď¸
⥠CHAPTER TWO: my baby, my baby
⥠SYNOPSIS: After Suguru visits you for the first time in nearly a decade, you find yourself adrift and decide to take some time away from your lovers to recuperate from such an event. Unfortunately, Satoru doesn't let you hide for long.
⥠A.N: This is, indeed, a repost, so if it looks familiar, that's why! I decided I'd rather have a xreader-focused sideblog <3
PREVIOUS ⥠AO3 ⥠M.LIST/TAGLIST ⥠NEXT
There are multiple text notifications on your phone after you finish cleaning up. Too many to count from Satoru. Two from Shoko. One from Yuuta-kun. Theyâre all updates and questions about your well-being. It brings a smile to your face, lasting long enough to make your cheeks hurt as you cook a simple breakfast. Simple because you need something light, and thereâs nothing else in your fridgeâthere never is.
White rice and bare miso soupâthe green onions and package of untouched tofu had to be thrown out with how spoiled they were. Despite your precaution, each bite tastes rotten. It seems like Suguru has left you with this affliction once again. You shoot off a few replies as you discard whatâs left, washing the dishes and placing them on a drying rack.
You sit on the couch, closing your eyes, and sink into Suguruâs lingering residuals. He hadnât erased them when he left. An act of cruelty or kindness, you do not know, but the familiar twang of bitterness followed by something mellow soothes a hurt inside of you that he left you with. It was too naive to believe heâd stay for a proper goodbye, but you thought that maybeâwell, it doesnât matter now.
You feel tender like a bruise, the gaping hole that had slowly scabbed over in his absence had been torn asunder. Some time away and alone would be necessary to heal it enough to go on with your life. As much as you want to nuzzle into Shokoâs arms while Satoruâs arms engulf both of you, you know it wonât happen. Those twoâs intimacy is limited to brief fucks and the occasional peck on the cheek or brief clasp of hands. Youâve never gained the courage to ask why itâs stayed that way. Irrationally but perhaps correctly, you believe it has to do with you rather than theâmissingâelephant in the room. Itâs moments like this you miss them both, but perhaps itâs for the best that it isnât a possibility. It would only tip them off that something is wrong. Youâll only be unbalanced for a few days, and then, the encounter will be behind you.
It has to be.
A ring interrupts your inner monologue. Itâs a call from your auxiliary manager, a member of the Gojo clan that Satoru had foisted upon you, one that you had come to begrudgingly accept in the years since her assignment. You answer it as you finally bring yourself to cleanse Suguruâs residuals. A quick slash of your cursed energy easily snuffs out what remains as Minoru-san reminds you of the mission you had signed up for the day before. Sheâs five minutes out, which leaves you just enough time to grab your fresh sheets from the dryer and fix your bedding. Now, everything is reset. If only you could do the same to yourself.
You leave your apartment and enter Minoru-sanâs car, looking over the case file from your tablet as she drives you to the subway station. She informs you that she has already arranged for a rental to be there upon arrival and that there should be very little pushback from the workers of the building the curse is currently residing in. You like how succinct she is, like how she doesnât hold a grudge against you for being forced into this role.
Before Satoru had practically ordered her to exchange careers, she had been a Second Grade sorcerer, and before that, she had been the most likely candidate in his clan to become his bride. Thankfully, she had never cared for that and had known since your first Goodwill Event that Satoru would never deign anyone who wasnât one of his yearmates a second glance, let alone consider marriage. However, you remember she had been irritated at being relegated to such a position when Satoru first poached her. It was only when she realized why she was chosen, her large cursed energy reserves, that her irritation began to fade. Consuming a curseâs energy after depleting too much of your own was a surefire way of running the risk of acting a bit too similar to the curseâdangerous and unhinged. Minoru-sanâs cursed energy is a good counter, which Satoru knew, of course.
Todayâs mission involves an infestation of a few first grades and more lower-grade curses, which would usually be relegated to Satoru, but since heâs busy in Kyoto, itâs been assigned to you. Youâve gone against worse, but, likely, Minoru-sanâs energy alone wonât be enough to overcome what you will absorb from them. It doesnât have to, though; it just needs to help tide you over until your own cursed energy replenishes or you make contact with one of your friends.
The drawback of your cursed technique is the state it leaves you in, always leaving you craving more. No matter what the more takes a form in. Itâs why you struggle with addiction and healthy eating habits. It blindsides you most of the time, but thatâs what the people that surround you are forâto keep you tethered to reality. Having got a taste of Suguruâs has left you with a bad taste in your mouth and an unearthed longing for him. Itâs a dangerous position to be in, so you reach forward and brush your fingers against Minoru-sanâs shoulder and zap a minuscule amount from her. She doesnât even notice, too busy navigating the road, and it soothes you enough to ignore the desire to reach out for him.
The mission is completed within an hour once all is said and done, and youâre itching for a fix or a fight. You canât quite tell, but Minoru-san rushes to you as soon as you dispel the barrier. Your fingertips dig into her tender flesh, a cool sweep of her energy intermingling with your own, and the frenzy fades as easily as it comes.
You give her your thanks, and she says itâs not a problem, that sheâs glad to be of help. Sheâs not quite a friend and more than a coworker or subordinate, but youâre grateful for her companionship regardless of how it began. Others would not be so understanding of being drained dry of their main fighting source, but Minoru-san has never minded or complained. Although she is no longer an active sorcerer, she is still reliable, be it through her continued training or allowing you to steal her cursed energy. Satoru chose well; it warms you from within to know how much effort he put in towards your safety despite your status as a Special Grade.
As she walks beside you back to the rental, Minoru-san calls the hotel that was booked to apprise them of your incoming approach. She always negotiates the highest budget possible for missions like these, so youâre certain that the room she booked for you will be extravagant. You had questioned her once as to why she did so, and she had replied that you deserved nothing but the best, practically deeming you Satoruâs wife and therefore one of the heads of her clan.
Not an incorrect assumption, seeing as you completed half of his paperwork regarding those matters when he was overworked and exhausted, which was often. It had been this way since you were teens, disregarding the period when your relationship had been terribly fraught. Yet, marriage with him wasnât in the cards for you, and not because of your lineage, or lack thereof, but because it would feel unfair to Shoko. You never wanted to diminish her importance to you, even though she had stated that it wouldnât be a bother. The dynamic would change again, though, and that is the last thing that you wanted.
What more are the expectations that would be thrust upon youâchildren. Itâs not that you didnât want them. On the contrary, buried deep within your soul was a fierce desire for them. It had been fed with Megumi and Tsumiki, but Megumi no longer turned to you, and the less said about Tsumikiâs state, the better. You had, naively, thought that Tsumiki wasnât the one to worry about because it was Megumi who was becoming a sorcerer, but how wrong youâd been. A brutal reminder of why having children was a bad idea, but the fantasy that Suguru had implanted in your mind had stoked the flames of yearning into something near uncontrollable.
As a teen, when you let yourself believe in that impossible future, youâd always imagine the four of you living in the clan estate that Satoru had invited you all to during Tanabata in 2006. It wasnât too pretentious, nor was it quaint. The space could be filled, and until it was, your lovers would be enough to take up the empty space.
Satoru would give you a boy and maybe a girl, but ultimately, Suguru would give you an army of little girls to dote upon and love like they deserved. It had been obvious even before his handling of Riko-chan that he had a soft spot for young girls, and now, with the knowledge of how he attained the twins, his preference could not be denied. Of course, it doesnât work like that, something Shoko would remind you of as she performed the necessary checkups, yet you had a feeling youâd get what you want. Slowly but surely, your home would be filled.
Now, that dream has changed drastically because everything else has too. You decide not to linger on what it would look like presently because you feel too raw to examine it. Suguru had plucked at every vulnerable string you possessed, unravelling them and leaving your soul laid bare.
Entering the rental, you notice that there are even more text notifications on your phone, but you donât look at them. Youâll check them before bed or in the morning. They wonât expect an immediate reply anyway because youâre not the best at responding. Your habits will obscure the fact that you are actively avoiding them. Youâll feel bad about deceiving them later, but for now, youâre grateful for the reprieve it brings you.
Still, guilt creeps up on you, and you derail Minoru-sanâs original instruction by asking her to take you to the city proper to attain souvenirs. She nods with a smile and changes route immediately, like this had always been the plan. In your Suguru-induced haze, you had forgotten the typical itinerary for remote missions, which was always to gather an alarming amount of souvenirs and explore the surrounding shops and a museum or two. Youâll have to get more than usual to make up for being absent from the studentâs Goodwill Event.
Minoru-san is keenly observant but doesnât bring attention to your misstep, only tells you whatâs near and will be open for the day, as well as the best shops. Youâll have to get her an exceptional gift when the holidays come around, maybe a vacation. You can always borrow Ijichi-san from Satoru for a week or two, or maybe youâll snag Satoru himself. Of all the people you steal cursed energy from, Satoruâs is your favorite. Overwhelmingly sweet and more than enough to satiate your needs.
All in all, itâs a few hours until you reach your original destination. Minoru-sanâs cursed energy has replenished your own, completely indistinguishable from yours, but the kind you absorbed from the curses continues to linger at the edge of your consciousness. It never takes this long for its will to submit to your own, but it must recognize what youâve kept stubbornly hidden in the deepest recesses of your core, a small well of Suguruâs dangerously inviting energy in its purest form, and a prey will always recognize its predator.
Your body is built to house as many foreign energies as you can absorb, but foolishly, you like to keep a few in their original state. Satoruâs is a constant supply within you, but you steal away a portion to hoard away the same way you do Shokoâs and now Suguruâs once again. When he forced you away in 2007, you had almost drained him dry in your despair, and not a drop of his cursed energy was absorbed because you had buried it so deep within. It lasted for three short years before a special grade curse forced you to absorb it as your own.
This time, it will be gone in the blink of an eye if you are not cautious, and you will be helpless to the emptiness it will bring you. There is nothing you can do about that, though; Suguru is set in his ways. For now, you will simply cherish the fact that all of your lovers are never far. You simply have to call them forth, and there they will be. You cradle them gently, tenderly, lovingly, basking in the complexities of their soul as you begin to unwind for the night.
As expected, the hotel room Minoru-san chose for you is ostentatious and expansive, with full amenities, a king-sized bed, and a large bathroom with an enticing tub. It reminds you of something that Satoru would choose for himself. Normally, it would be a nice deviation from your plain apartment, but it only stands to remind you of how alone you truly are. You cannot fill in this emptiness. Only the three separate wells of your loversâ energies ground you.
You run the bath, turning the knob to boiling, before sitting down to separate the souvenirs you bought into different bags for the people they are intended for. Unsurprisingly, Satoruâs is the most filled. Of all the recipients of these gifts, he will be the most appreciative. You love to spoil him even though he has the means to buy whatever he wants, mostly because he knows that when you do, itâs because youâre thinking of him, and you think of him often. You donât do much with your salary anyway, and Shoko is practical the way you are, so the gifts she receives are expensive bottles of alcohol, and youâd much rather spend it on Satoru than yourself.
Youâre finished quickly, but the bath is not even halfway full. In the meantime, you strip and take a quick shower to wash away the specks of gunk you collected as you exorcised the infestation of curses. Thereâs very little, as Minoru-san provided you with sanitary wipes to clean yourself earlier in the day, but you still feel unclean. By the time youâve scrubbed yourself until your skin is red and raw, the bath is at the right level.
Itâs as you're about to step in that your stomach grumbles. Food wonât go down easily, but a drink will. There are a few bottles of sake and wine inside the fridge, but just staring at them turns your stomach. It may be best to steer clear of any alcohol for the foreseeable future, yet another thing Suguru has tainted. Instead, you opt for a can of melon soda. Itâs something Satoru would choose, obnoxiously sweet. You hope it will wash away the bitter taste that persists due to Suguruâs visit.
Your phone rings; the tune is something Satoru chose for himself in your first year, the instrumental theme for Digimon. It brings a small smile to your face to remember the first time he heard it and realized what it was. His face had completely lit up, different from all the times before. Not that they werenât genuine before, but he truly had looked touched. He had talked about it only once before, but he had sounded so passionate about it during the scant time he defended it to Suguru when the other boy stated that PokĂŠmon was superior. That moment stuck with you, so when you were granted a phone, it was his ringtone you picked out first. Itâs that same theme that plays out now. You let it ring, and donât answer.
Cowardly, maybe, but Satoru will just assume that your phone is too far from your person to pick it up. Though youâre not the best with texting, when he calls, you always answer, same with Shoko and Megumi. It wonât stand out from all the other instances. You can just pretend you left it in the rental. Your phone pings repeatedly in quick succession. Like a fool, you instinctively grab it, swiping up and staring at the barrage of messages Satoru has sent you.
satoru <3
22:49;Â i miss u :( itâs been sooooo long. shoko complained about your absence too,,, in her own way, but i swear she did!!
22:49;Â weâre at an izakaya now. itâs so boring without you that iâve resorted to messing with utahime. ughhh sheâs such a bore. i wish you were here. next year iâm not letting you off the hook!
22:50;Â oops shoko thinks you might be sleeping.
22:50;Â are you? hope i didnât wake you up, but i reallyyyy miss you. they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and theyâd be right
22:50;Â shoko says iâm a mess without you but sheâs the same as me so she's barking up the wrong tree. sheâs just as pathetic as i am without you.
22:51;Â i know youâre safe, minoru updated me earlier, but iâd still like to see it with all my six eyes. and shoko probably would like to check up on you too.
22:52; okay gonna stop bothering you if you really are sleeping. love youuuu~ âĄ
Your heart flutters in your chest rapidly, and a smile grows on your face. You canât deny how much joy it brings you to see how much they both love you. Any reminder, no matter how small, sets your heart aflame, even a decade later. However, it only worsens your mood as guilt and shame sour the small interaction. You should know better than to hide away like this; the two of them will find out. Thereâs no way of hiding your fragile mental state, and only one person is capable of eliciting this kind of behavior from you.
The moment Satoru asks a probing question or Shoko cradles your face like youâre something precious, youâll fall apart like a house of cards. Itâs not like this short time away has helped substantially. All itâs done is make you entirely too despondent because this is what he does to you. This is why Satoru never recounts his outings with him and why Shoko never mentions him. Theyâre both so resilient when it comes to his betrayal, while you had gone to him the first chance you could get and only stayed away because it was what he asked of you. Compared to them, you are so weak when it comes to him, and you hate it. Not him, never him, even after all heâs done. You can hate his stupid decisions and idiotic ideals, but you canât bring yourself to hate him.
You leave Satoru on read and put your phone down, sinking further into the now tepid water. If he hears your voice, he will know, and youâre not yet ready for that confrontation. You hardly ever deny him, so he will make note of this. Just one more day of languishing, and you will get over this bout of melancholy. It will weigh less in the morning. Despite that thought, you long to be with him. Satoru, more than anyone, will understand this particular plight, yet that is what stops you in your tracks. There is so very little you can do to help ease his troubles. He doesnât need to bear your problems when the load he carries is far greater than anyone elseâs.
Itâs just unfortunate that while you continue to stew in your misery, you forget that Satoru has been capable of long-distance teleporting for years now.
As you drain the bath, dry yourself, and put on one of the complimentary robes, it seems that Satoru let himself in because there, on the obscenely large bed, is your partner, kicking his feet back and forth on the edge of the bed with a wide smile on his face as he greets you. It only confirms your belief that he doesnât know. Itâs not the time of month when they see each other, and you rid yourself and your apartment of his residuals while eating breakfast after his departure. It had tasted like acrid sludge, just like everything else you've had since then.
Witnessing him like this settles your tumultuous cursed energy, something you hadnât even noticed was a problem until the change took place. He has always been your safety net, and now more than ever, you yearn to spill your heart to him, to bear your soul before him, to allow him complete control. He will know what to do with you. Youâre certain Satoru will be successful in purifying the rot festering within you. He has experience, after all.
A burden shared is a burden halved; Satoru will forgive you for unloading this onto him. He has forgiven much worse things, and really, this is something he is well equipped to handle.
You donât bother flicking the lights on; Satoruâs eyes, alone, will see the truth thatâs laid out on you and within you, and the moonlight should suffice for your measly vision. You need not confess what took place when your body tells it all. Satoruâs usual chatterbox of a mouth comes to a stop, watching you intensely as you untie the robe and let it fall to the floor.
His eyes scan the bruises and hickies and bites Suguru left on you, and you wonder if he recognizes them by familiarity alone. Heâs surely seen the same set of handprints and teeth marks on his own body. Does he admire them the way you do before inevitably healing them and coming back to you? He doesnât keep your marks either, but you keep his. Youâll be keeping Suguruâs too, and you hope the marks you left on Suguru remain when the two men meet up in the next few days.
âFound a new lover, have you?â
âNo. Iâve just reconnected with an old one.â You slip into his lap, Infinity giving way to you immediately as you wrap your arms around his neck, stealing away a portion of his cursed energy by rote as you do so. You rest your forehead against his own, staring into where you know his eyes are. âYouâd know all about that, wouldnât you, Satoru?â
As you tug the bandages off him gently, he stares at you with something you canât name. You wonder what it is he sees when he gazes upon you. Heâs all-seeing, all-knowing, but exactly how omniscient is he?
Can he see the evidence of your attempt to exorcise Suguruâs residuals? The curl of Suguruâs power resting deep within you, besides his own and Shokoâs? The devastation Suguruâs departure has done to your psyche?
Of course, he can, and itâs not because of his Six Eyes.
Satoru knows you, and oh, what a thing it is to be known.
He doesnât judge you, doesnât get angry, or even pity you as his eyes soak up all the information they can. Heâd be a hypocrite if he did, but he would never. He understands the distinct effect Suguru has on you because Satoru is just the same when it comes to him. This specific affliction is something only the two of you share: weak-willed in the face of love.
Still, the blankness he projects leaves you feeling a little disquieted. Itâs unnatural, and you dislike it, so you pull him into a kiss. He tastes as sweet as ever, and what a relief it is to have the bitter rot be replaced by one thatâs saccharine.
There will be time for a heart-to-heart later. For now, though, your bodies will do all the talking.
Satoru is greedy as always, quickly turning what was supposed to be a sweet kiss into something filthy as he uses both tongue and teeth to get you worked up. You feel reluctant to pull back for breath, but your lungs are burning for air. You admire his flushed face when you do. Itâs a much better look on him than his previously unreadable one. Heâs just so pretty, and thereâs nothing you want more in this moment than to witness him looking completely debauched. For that reason alone, you palm his length through his slacks and delight in the way his hips jerk into your heated touch as he lets out a needy moan.
Heâs always so quick to arouse, but then again, so are you. The wet spot youâve left on his pants is evidence of that. He pulls you into another kiss that leaves you with an aftertaste of something sickly sweet. Youâre accustomed to this kind of bite, crave it even, but even so, you find yourself missing Suguruâs specific breed of decay as it's replaced by Satoruâs.
Satoru, in tune with your body as always, spreads his legs wider to accommodate you properly as you straddle one of his thighs, and his hands go back to your hips. He can suffer a little while you chase your peak.
You begin by rocking your hips gently to rub your very wet cunt against his thigh, nails digging into his shoulder. Leaning back just enough to brace yourself on his knee, you pick up pace and intensity. The friction against your clit each time you grind on him feels electrifying, your belly tightening with each drag against the bud of sensitive nerves.
Itâs not going to be enough. Satoruâs been watching you, rapt, impatient to be an active participant, so you lean your chest closer to his mouth. He latches onto one of your breasts, immediately understanding your body language, his teeth sinking into the supple flesh. The added stimulation makes you shiver and moan, clenching your thighs tight around his leg and riding it harder than before.
âYouâhahâcan be rougher, Saâtoâru.â One of your hands tangles in his hair, pushing his face further into your chest. His teeth clamp down harder, and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. A low moan escapes your mouth. âThatâs it,â you say breathlessly as your lover helps you along, fingers running over his bulge teasingly as a reward.
He switches to your other nipple, swirling around it with his tongue before his teeth sink in. You halt in your motions, body stiff as your peak quickly approaches, and Satoru takes that as an incentive to guide your hips back and forth on his thigh. High moans fall from your mouth without permission as his mouth travels to your sensitive neck, lips, teeth, and tongue, trailing everywhere Suguru was the night before.
âSatoru, âm close,â you whine, breath catching as he murmurs your name into the nape of your neckâgives his permission easily. There isnât enough time for games. You yank his head up and slot your lips against his own as your thighs shake around him, cunt pulsing and gushing against his thigh.
He deepens the kiss, and you slump on him as you go boneless. Itâs nice to let him do what he wants as you come down from your high. It only takes a few moments before you pull away, feeling present againâwell, as present as you can be. Thereâs still a part of you that resides with Suguru, and going by the look in Satoruâs eyes as he stares down at you, he knows it too.
You donât let him get a word in as you slink off him and sit before his knees. Your hands unclasp and unzip his slacks, shimmying them and his boxers down and off. Heâs already hard and leaking, a product of all your earlier teasing. You lean forward, one hand curled around his inner thigh and the other one delicately wrapped around the base of his cock as you guide it to your lips.
Once his tip is past your lips, Satoru threads his fingers into your hair and slides more of his length into your mouth. You keep your eyes focused on him, and he does the same, eyes glowing imperceptibly in the dark. He begins to fuck your mouth lazily, shallowly thrusting, as the thumb of the hand not holding you in place strokes your cheek tenderly.
Heâs so gentle, it makes you sick to your stomach. This isnât what you wanted, but itâs what heâs willing to give you. Youâll take it all the same; youâll take all that he gives you happily. You wonât ask for more, nor will you ever deny him, something Satoru is intimately aware of.
âYouâre being so good,â Satoru croons, and the praise shoots right between your legs. You canât help the whine that leaves you involuntarily, which has him coo in response. Condescendingly, probably; not that you care because you had heard the slight hitch of his breath when you took him in deeper. Heâs just as affected as you are. âIs this what you needed, baby?â
You hum an agreement around him, and he groans beautifully. His head is thrown back in pleasure, his neck on full display for you to admire. You want to mark that smooth column of skin, want him to match Suguru in a way he hasnât in a decade, even if you wonât be there to see the look on his face. Maybe you should be, though. Perhaps youâll finally accept the open invitation. Whatâs a little more hurt in the long run? You can take it. You want to take it before itâs too late, and Suguru goes through with his plan andâ
Satoruâs grip on your hair tightens viciously as he withdraws from your mouth, tilting your head up so youâre eye to eye.
âThinking about him, are you?â He asks lightly, but you know itâs anything but.
âSorry, canât help it,â you reply hoarsely, eyes watering.
You really are sorry. Itâs unfair of you to be stuck on Suguru when Satoru is the one before you, when Satoru is the one who always comes back to you, but this is just what he does to you. He swallows you whole, only to spit you out in pieces once heâs done with you. Why do you allow it? Well, everyone has their weaknesses, and Suguru will always be yours.
âI know,â Satoru sighs softly. He leans down and kisses you so softly, you melt into him. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark as his thumb swipes across your bottom lip. âYou need more, donât you?â
âYes. Please. I donât want to think, Satoru,â you beg, uncaring how pathetic you must appear to him. He hasnât seen you at your worstâonly Shoko has had that privilegeâbut close enough that you donât feel the need to hide anymore.
âYou know Iâve always got you.â You do know that, which is why youâre in this position. You know Satoru well enough to realize that he'll come to you if you do something out of the ordinary. You could have run, delayed this moment further, but part of you must have longed for this to happen. For Satoru to do what he does best: take control.
âAll you have to do is be good and do as I say.â
You can do that. You want to do that.
He smiles. âI know, baby.â
Your face heats up. You didnât mean to say that out loud.
Oh well, you think as Satoru brings his cock back to your lips. Itâs still wet with your saliva, and there are beads of pre-cum leaking from his tip. You lick it right up. The taste of him down here pleasantly differs from his cloying mouth. Itâs still a little sweet, but thereâs a bite of pure musk to it that will only get more powerful the more you get.
He lets you set the pace for a few minutes, teasing him with kitten licks and butterfly kisses before wrapping your lips around his tip again and taking him into your mouth. Youâre content to let your mind wander as you focus on pleasing him. Every so often, youâll look up and find him staring at you with a strange intensity each time, as though he is committing you in this moment to memory.
It should be daunting to be under the Six Eyeâs gaze, but it is only tantalizing to you. Satoru is the unknowing supplier of your only remaining addiction: his singular attention. Not just anyone can claim that, and even fewer can claim a place within his heart. Youâve traded away all the drugs thatâll do you harm for one that isnât destructive, only obsessive, in return. A fair trade, all things considered. Satoru gives you an endless supply of adoration, and you revel in it, in him, in his equally damning attachment.
This is one fixation that youâll never have to give up.
Your tongue swipes from underneath as your teeth scrape softly above, and Satoru gasps. Unwittingly, his hand clenches and pulls you further onto his length. You gag at the quick motion, but that doesnât stop Satoru from shoving more of his cock into your mouth. Heâs grown tired of your exploratory pace, but thatâs fine because you were of the same mind.
Itâs nice to be used by Satoru. You donât have to focus on anything but him. All thoughts of Suguru disappear as you follow his every demand. Open wider, he says, so you do, relaxing your throat and allowing him deeper. Keep your eyes on mine, he says, and you do, maintaining eye contact even as his thrusts become rougher. Keep your thighs apart, he says, and you do, aching for any kind of friction despite knowing that any attempt to touch yourself will have consequences.
Satoru fucks into your mouth relentlessly, taking his pleasure while youâre helpless to do anything but moan, suck, and take it. Heâs aggressive with you, just like you wanted. Your jaw aches, but thereâs no stopping Satoru once he gets like this. Thatâs just fine with you; he needs to blow off steam, and you need to be useful. Itâs a win-win situation, even if you feel like youâre getting more out of this than Satoru. Next time, youâll make a day out of it and let him use you properly.
Drool escapes the corners of your lips as he continues to thrust roughly. Your jaw aches, but itâs the nice kind, a sort of badge of honor for how good youâve been for him.
Nothing matters but Satoru, even as tears stream down your face and air becomes scarce, the more erratic his strokes become. You can barely make him out through your blurred vision, but youâre certain thereâs never been a better sight. He is incandescent as he chases his orgasm mindlessly.
Pulling from your mouth just enough to leave the tip in your mouth, he cums with an unbashed moan. It coats the back of your throat, and you swallow it down as best you can. As much as he likes seeing you coated in his cum, he left his cock in your mouth for a reason.
He waits until youâve got it all, until he withdraws from your mouth. Cupping your cheek, he croons, âYou were so good. You took me so well.â He leans down and kisses you, his tongue licking up the remnants of his seed, and you keen into his mouth. He separates from you to say, âCome on up, baby.â
You reach up, and he takes you into his lap, cradling you like something precious as he extends his Infinity to include you. Nothing but Satoru can reach you now, and itâs like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You nuzzle into his chest with your arms wrapped around his neck, as he whispers sweet things into the crown of your head and rubs soothing motions into your skin.
It is pure and utter bliss, being faced with the full brunt of Satoruâs care. The only thing better would be if Shoko were here, but she never joins the two of you anymore. She only slips in when Satoru is finished and hands you off to her. You think it would be nice to be sandwiched between them for a night before you spill your guts to them. Almost immediately, a wave of exhaustion hits you in apprehension of such a conversation.
âIâm tired,â you mumble in his skin, eyes dropping as sleep threatens to take you.
âLet me dress you,â he whispers, and a frown forms on your face at the thought of extricating yourself from him. He chuckles. âIt wonât take long. I promise.â
âOkay,â you acquiesce. âBe quick.â
He untangles you from himself, and you watch as he finds the pajamas you brought to wear for the night, a comically oversized shirt, and a pair of soft cotton shorts. Things youâve stolen from your lovers. You grumble as he pulls you off the bed to dress you, clinging to him the moment heâs finished.
âDone! Now we can go,â Satoru declares.
âGo?â You ask warily.
âTo Shoko, of course!â He chirps.
You tug a strand of his hair. âWhat if sheâs still sleeping?â
He looks down at you fondly. âSheâs not, and even if she were, sheâd wake up for you.â
You donât protest because it would be really nice to see Shoko. You want them both with you, and Satoru must know that. Heâs the best, and you love him so much. Words canât describe how grateful you are, so you merely kiss him softly.
âOkay, letâs go then.â
As he gathers your belongings, you text Minoru-san about your recent change of plans, so she doesnât needlessly worry when she inevitably knocks on the door of your empty hotel room in the morning. Sheâll understand the reason for your absence immediately. This is not the first time Satoru has been too impatient to wait for you to come back to Tokyo, nor will it be the last. It is, however, the first time he has stolen you without warning. He wouldâve taken you to Shoko no matter what you said, and itâs for the best that he did and that you agreed.
Satoru has all your things on one arm while the other wraps around your shoulders and teleports.
As you begin to regain your bearings, you take a step away too quickly and collapse into Satoruâs awaiting arms. Youâre not clumsy when it comes to his teleportation, not anymore, so maybe Suguru truly has thrown you completely off track. What terrible timing; the end of summer is always rush season.
When you glance up, successfully this time, your eyes meet Shokoâs tired ones. The corner of her mouth lifts in an almost smile. Like always, she looks weary, but sheâs still so beautiful. Her beauty is unlike Satoruâs, who will always be a touch too perfect. No, Shokoâs appeal lies in her humanity. Something is charming about her smudged mascara, her untidy hair after a night of drinking, and how she wears her exhaustion like a second skin.
âCome here,â she beckons, and you collapse into her on the bed.
Shoko smells like whiskey and sweat, no lingering antiseptic remains, just the pure scent of her.
âIâve got you,â she whispers into the shell of your ear, her arms enclosing you from behind. Satoru joins you on the other side, holding you just as tight, and sighs, âWe both do.â
âThank you,â you murmur happily.
They hum in acknowledgement, snuggling closer to you. Itâs reminiscent of your school days, of the days when you finally reconciled with Satoru after⌠after. You donât want to think about that right now, not when the two of them are finally in bed with you.
You fall asleep between them, Satoruâs heartbeat against your ear and Shokoâs pressed against your back, certain that in the morning, theyâll still be there.
I BET ON LOSING DOGS | GETO SUGURU X READER & SASHISU X READER âĽď¸
⥠CHAPTER ONE: i always want you when I'm finally fine
⥠SYNOPSIS: It's been a decade or so since you've last seen Suguru, when out of the blue, and when your other partners are away, he decides to visit you.
⥠A.N: This is, indeed, a repost so if it looks familiar, that's why! I decided I'd rather have a xreader-focused sideblog <3
AO3 ⥠M.LIST/TAGLIST ⥠NEXT
âIâm home,â you announce to an empty apartment as you slip off your boots and put on your slippers.
You flick the lights on, highlighting white walls and sparse furniture, and make your way towards the kitchen, to where your bar cart is. It is the only fully furnished thing you own, diligent to keep everything you could possibly want or need in stock. You donât smoke anymore, not since the pact you swore with Shoko four years ago, but youâve simply replaced one vice for another. At least you donât pop pills or do lines anymore. Your suppliers went their different ways, one going rogue and murdering an entire village of non-sorcerers and the other throwing himself in missions and avoiding you like the plague after a bout of shared teenage angst that only two lovesick fools could share.
Quitting cold turkey had been an interesting experience, but Shoko had been there for you. She had seen you at your worst and had nursed you back to health a few times after some extremely idiotic decisions. She hadnât judged you, even though you wished she had. She was so gentle with you in the aftermath of each attempt, forgiving you every time, and you hadnât deserved it, so you swore to yourself that youâd stop being so foolish and had sworn to her that youâd do your best to take as long as you possibly could before joining the endless parade of corpses that eventually ended up in her morgue.
âIdiot,â Shoko had said, unbearably fond, before she whispered a quiet thank you into the crown of your head and laid a kiss there. You would break her heart one day, youâre sure of it. However, itâd only be because of a curse or curse-user and not by your own hand.
The next week after that, Satoru had slid up right next to you, wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and complained about his latest mission like nothing had changed since your school days and not like he hadnât ignored you for an entire year.
To say that it had been a disastrous confrontation would be an understatement; an entire section of the mountains that hid the school had been blown to pieces, decimated by your bottled-up emotions and Satoruâs deflection. It took another year before the two of you could stand to be near each other and civil, and then one more until your friendship had repaired to a status similar enough to the one you both shared during your school years. It was different, of course, because there was a missing piece in your dynamic, a black hole that could never be filled, but that was fine.
Youâre used to it now, a whole ten years after the fact.
How pathetic.
Going through your inventory, you deliberate on your choice for the night. A quiet night in dictates a few glasses of wine, but youâre feeling nostalgic tonight. You donât go for something achingly sweet like something Satoru drank in his youth, or a whiskey cocktail like Shoko has stayed true to since her teen years, but rather you choose warmed kimoto sake. An interesting choice considering the warmth youâve had to deal with during this month.
As you begin to heat it up, you think about your friends.
Shoko and Satoru are off in Kyoto for the Goodwill Event, and while you were invited to join them, it didn't feel right. You werenât a part of the faculty and though you helped some of Satoruâs students a few times, it wasnât enough to warrant a reason to come. Still, you would have liked to see the four of them in action, specifically Yuuta-kun. Kento hadnât gone either, but then, he wouldnât, seeing as he preferred to keep his personal and professional life as separate as possible. Heâs stubborn, but you admire that about him. Youâll never admit it, but he is more brave than youâll ever be, leaving so easily, even if he had returned in the end.
Sometimes, you wish you had turned your back on this society too. Only, you would have stayed gone.
Taking a sip from your now perfectly heated sake, you close your eyes and think of better times. Before you know it, the bottle is finished, and you decide it may be best to shower before forgetting to and getting into bed dirty. It was an entirely too humid day, and youâre still slick with sweat. You turn the lights and burner off. An alarm rings, but you swipe it away. Thirty minutes later, youâre slightly buzzed but clean, dressed in only an oversized band-tee that youâre certain you stole from one of your friends and a pair of panties. Itâs a nice feeling, and youâve had so few of those as of late since the approach of a certain ten year anniversary.
Maybe you should watch one of Tsumikiâs favorite dramas that you used to always indulge her in. No one else would catch her up on them, and itâs been a while since you visited her anyway. Now, you would have something to share with her that wasnât anything curse related. If you were her, youâd hate hearing only of tragedy and misery. Surely, the main couple finally got their act together and became official.
Some more sake sounds like a better idea though. However, as you move further into your apartment, you realize there is a second presence with you, no longer hidden. You flick the lights on, and there on your couch is a splash of color in your otherwise dreary residence.
âItâs been a while, hasnât it?â
Suguru is just about the same as he was all those years ago. Only now, heâs grown into his looks. Heâs no longer so awkward in his body, apparent in the way he sprawls so confidently in his monk attire as he stares up at you with that familiar fox-like smile. His hair is so much longer now, free from the bun he used to prefer. His gauges have grown in size. Heâs wearing Satoruâs house slippers. Itâs odd to reconcile the image you have of him in your mind with the man he now is. Your only thought as you take in all of him is that heâs grown up without you and has become a stranger when once he used to be your everything.
You blink, unable or perhaps unwilling to believe what youâre seeing, yet the vision of the man in front of you doesnât change. It seems unlikely that after all this time, he would choose to visit you like this, so maybe this is just another dream. Itâs been a while since the last one. Walking past him to light the burner once more, you wonder if youâve had too much to drink even as you pour for a second cup.
As you make your way back to your living room, heâs still there, looking at you with that stupid smile still plastered on his face. You place your cup down first before handing him his own, his hands easily enveloping your own as you do.
He feels warm.
Real.
Oh.
Suguru is really here.
âOf course, Iâm here. Did you believe otherwise?â
Ah, you spoke aloud. You may be more than slightly buzzed if youâre this bad already. You sit beside him, your thigh touching his own, and look him straight in the eye as you say, âI never know what to believe when it comes to you.â
His expression falters, and for a moment, heâs the boy you loved, before itâs paved over by that false congeniality you hate. He would have made it big as an actor if he hadnât gone down the path of murderous cult leader, or maybe a politician. Those are certainly more likely to betray you than an actor would. Then again, that profession isnât too far from a cult leader in all actuality.
He takes a sip from his cup, surprise and delight flitting over his features the moment it reaches his tongue. It feels good to break his facade because heâs already breaking all the walls youâve built around your heart by simply being beside you like this; some reciprocity would be nice. You wonder how long itâs been since heâs had this particular drink and brand. It was his favorite once upon time, and you figured that if he threw just about everything else out from his previous life, he must have done the same to this too. Itâs nice to know you still know the core of him even if you donât know the exact happenings of his life.
âHow have you been? You and Satoru have made up now, yes?â
Of course, he would bring that up. It doesnât surprise you that he does, though. For a while, your fight with Satoru had been all anyone could talk about. A destructive fight between the last two loyal Special Grades shortly after the third went rogue? It was a scandal that didnât abate until you and Satoru finally made up, until youâd shown up with him draped all over you, looking very obviously freshly-fucked, at a council meeting.
However, Suguru very well knows that you and Satoru had long made up. You may be foolish but youâre not an idiot. Not anymore. Itâs not hard to determine where your not-quite boyfriend goes once a month like clockwork and why he comes back to you tasting of smoke and misery. Once, very early on, he had asked if you wanted to join him, and you had simply given him a scathing look before leaving his apartment to go to Shokoâs. He never asked again, but you knew that the offer was always open.
Confronting you like this, in your apartment and with no one near, Suguru leaves you no choice but to face him. Maybe he got tired of waiting for you to come to him. For once, you're not the desperate one. Itâs a nice change of pace. Yet, there's always the possibility that heâs here to kill you.
If youâre going to die like this, so be it, but youâd like another drink before you go. A civil conversation would be nice too. You find that youâve missed him dearly, ready to fall back into old habits with an old friend. Shoko will be disappointed in you for not putting up a fight, but if you hadnât had the strength to do it while you helped him with the twins, you definitely couldnât do it now. Satoru will understand though. You only hope heâs kind; youâve had enough of his cruelty.
âYes. Weâre doing well now. As for myself, Iâm the same as always. I donât get up to much these days.â You pause to take a sip to wet your dry mouth. âOh, Iâm almost done with my teaching certificate, but donât tell Satoru. Heâll be a nuisance if he finds out through you. I plan on joining him at Jujutsu Tech next year.â
Satoru hadnât been wrong when he said youâd enjoy it. Itâs fulfilling in a way that exorcising curses isnât, and though youâve always supported him in his endeavor to allow the children of your society to hold onto their youth for as long as possible, itâs different when youâre the one cultivating said youth.
âOho, is that so? Iâm happy for you,â Suguru says, and the thing is, he really does sound genuine. âOf the two of you, I always thought youâd be the one to teach there. You were always so diligent with our kouhai, Haibara-kun specifically.â
Hearing him speak so blatantly about Yuu-kun sends a stab straight through your heart. He had been a good boy, an average sorcerer at the time, but there had been potential for him to grow into a First Grade had he lived. You remember sitting beside his corpse, debating whether you should kill the window who miscalculated the curseâs grade and the elder who let it accumulate power for years before it became a so-called problem and reported it.
It had been Suguru who had convinced you otherwise. Hypocritical of him, considering he went on a murder spree not too long after for the sake of two little girls and his own twisted philosophy.
You had changed after that, even more after the short time you helped Suguru settle with Nanako-chan and Mimiko-chan before essentially being turned away from his new home and the bender you and Satoru went on. After that, you fell into a depressive episode so severe that it almost killed you. Only Shoko knows the extent of how close you were to giving up completely, and it will stay like that. During that time, Satoru had stayed far away from you, Suguru had been busy with handling his newly seized cult and raising the twins, Kento had pulled away from everyone, and Yuu-kun was dead.
You had lost your spark, unwilling to become attached to anyone else who could break your heart so thoroughly. Teaching, which had always been your secret passion, had lost all its luster after everything that took place during that nebulous time period, but children have a way of sneaking into your heart, regardless of any desire to avoid them. It had been Megumi first, the little boy who shadowed Satoru during a few of his easier missions, and later, Tsumiki, his non-sorcerer step-sister who admired your grace and poise when dealing with someone as troublesome as Satoru. Then, it had been sweet Yuuta-kun, who you had personally vouched for after Satoru brought you to meet him for the first time. Now, it was the rest of his classmates who have managed to worm their way right alongside the others.
You canât say youâre fully healed from the heartache of your teenage years, yet youâd like to believe you can move past it enough to live the way you want and have been too cowardly to allow.
âIt simply wasnât in my cards, not until recently. Itâs been nice to help the first years with Satoru, and I want a more active role in their education. Enough about me, though. How have you and the girls been?â
Heâs been watching you with rapt eyes, and you wonder what it is he sees, what youâre giving away to him. He was always the best at reading you, but now that particular gift belongs to Shoko, who knows every dirty little secret that your lovers donât⌠lover and ex-lover.
âThe girls still ask about you, their beloved onee-sama, but theyâre well without you. Speaking of which, I never managed to break them from the habit of calling me Getou-sama. Theyâre stubborn like that, but I like that shared facet of their personalities. Just the other day, they convinced me to abandon a meeting to go to the opening of a highly anticipated bakery. Perhaps Iâve spoiled them too much,â Suguru muses, taking a sip, and you, unconsciously, mirror the movement. He looks back up into your eyes, tilting his head as he asks, âAs for myself, do you really want to know?â
Do you really want to know?
Do you really wish to hear of the people he slaughtered to further his inane goal? To hear about his new family, the cult heâs grown for himself? To hear just how far his insanity has spread?
Not particularly.
You shake your head, and instead, you ask, âIs this how it goes with Satoru each time he goes to you? Talking about nothing but the children before falling into each other?â
Suguru barks a laugh, like youâve told a particularly funny joke, and you jolt at the sound of it. He sounds the same, and itâs breaking your heart. He sets his cup on the table, his hand warm on your cheek as he cradles your face tenderly. If you close your eyes, you can almost pretend youâre two teens falling in love for the first time. Your eyes stay open, mapping the constellation of dying stars found in his own.
âAlways straight to the point with you, huh? I always liked that about you, you know?â
You nod. He had told you as such one time, and you remember everything from back then in startling crystal clear vision. His other hand takes your cup and places it beside his own. Itâs a coupleâs set, once belonging to your parents. No one else has used it alongside you because your friends would never drink sake if given the choice, none but Suguru.
âAnd youâve always danced around it. Why are you here, Suguru?â
He closes his eyes then, perhaps relishing the sound of his name falling from your lips. Your voice almost broke when saying it, unused to saying it when once it was all that could escape you.
âIâve missed you. Isnât that enough of a reason?â He leans his forehead against your own, his breath intermingling with your own. Every one of your senses are filled with him. Itâs a heady combination, the proximity, the intimacy, the familiar musk of decay with an added hint of incense, and it makes you dizzy with desire.
âYouâve had all this time to visit me. Why now?â You couldnât sound more pathetic if you tried, but Suguru was the one to break ten years of contact. Surely, that must make him worse than you.
You know where this is heading, and itâs a bad idea, but youâll just blame it all on Suguru. Heâs the one who came to you, not the other way around. Itâd be rude to turn him away, although youâd be well within your right to do so after what he did last time, but you canât. He is your biggest weak spot, besides Shoko, and everyone knows it, Suguru most of all.
As if knowing he was losing you, he smiles at you, eyes open, with all of his teeth showing. Itâs a distracting sight.
He finally answers, âI was feeling nostalgic.â He must deem that enough of an answer because he breaches the small gap between you and kisses you. You melt into him, allowing him to push you down on the couch as his thighs box you in beneath him. The secondhand taste of him you get from Satoru doesnât compare to the real thing, and neither do your dreams or memories.
âYou must be too, if youâre wearing this old thing,â he says as he takes your shirt offâand oh, itâs one that used to belong to him. He had left everything behind when he defected, and during your worst nights, you wanted something of his, so you snuck into his old dorm room and stole a few items of his clothing. His scent hadnât lingered for long, but you kept everything you stole anyway.
Pushing past the twinge of pain those times illicit, you begin to undress him too. Itâs not enough to simply be this close to him. You need to be skin to skin, mouth to mouth, body to body, until youâre both so tangled up in one another that you become one.
Sometime during stripping him to his underwear and kissing him senseless, he had picked you up because the next thing you know, heâs thrown you on your bed. You imbibed too much, but by now, youâre certain he isnât going to kill you tonight.Â
Not much, you think deliriously when Suguru pulls your panties down, his nose digging into your clit as he licks a stripe up your folds, but heâll give me plenty of little deaths. Satoru would have liked that joke since heâs the one who told you about that term originally, too bad heâs not here to appreciate it. Youâll just have to save it for later.
You donât attempt to keep quiet, couldnât even if you tried, because you know Suguru likes his partners noisy and filthy. Heâs as talented with his tongue as he was when you last saw him, more even, and you donât want to think about why that is. Like this, you can stay in your favorite fantasy, where he stayed yours and Satoruâs and Shokoâs.
Pleasure swells in your belly, slick pooling between your thighs and right into Suguruâs eager mouth. Heâs only playing with you, staying away from your clit as he laps up your arousal. Teases you until youâre molten beneath him. His tongue slides inside of you, and your back arches into his mouth.
âYou taste the way I remember,â he remarks, his breath tickling your clit. You thread your fingers into his hair, forcing him to look into your eyes. His face shines with your slick in the low light, and his eyes are dark as he stares back at you, the black of his pupils eclipsing his pretty irises.
âSuguru, please. I need more.â A moan slips from you unbidden when he slips two thick fingers inside of your aching hole. He curls them upwards, massaging that soft spot that makes the coil in your belly snap and makes you tremble as your orgasm crashes over you. Youâre not there yet, but you will be soon with the way Suguru decides to stop toying with you.
His tongue swirls around your clit before he takes it into his mouth and sucks.
Suguruâs already prepared for the way your hips buck. His grip is bruising as he forces your thrashing body further down onto your bedding, He hasnât let up with his fingers, and he seems content to keep your clit warm and wet in his mouth.
Itâs too much at once, especially since itâs Suguru bringing you to the edge like this. Heâs nothing like your other lovers, and youâve missed this. Youâve missed him. He adds a third finger, and the stretch stings pleasantly. He continues his assault on your clit, alternating between sucking it and using his tongue to play with it.
Tears prick your eyes, and you fist his hair tightly in your palms, pushing his face deeper into your cunt. Youâre so close, yet you want him to stop because working you from the inside and out is enough to cause your mind to want to stop working.
âSuguru, Suguru, Suguru,â you whine, a litany solely for him on your tongue. He hums happily against you, and itâs enough to cause your body to still for a moment. âSuguru, Iâm gonnaâgonna cum,â you begin to warn him before you shudder all over, thighs trembling, vision narrowing, and cunt spasming around Suguruâs fingers.
He continues to fuck you with his fingers, but his mouth finally leaves your poor, abused clit as he maneuvers himself between your thighs and move your legs to wrap around his midsection. Only now are you aware of the raging hard-on heâs sporting. He leans down to kiss your lips, sharing the taste of your slick with you and breathing your name and sweet nothings into your skin once heâs had his fill of your needy kisses and left enough marks that there won't be a mistake of just exactly who left them there.
Reclining back up, he looks down at your debauched body. His mouth quirks up into a mean grin that makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. âThereâs nothing but thoughts of me in that silly little brain of yours, hm?â
âUh huh. Just Suguru.â Heâs the only thing that matters, all youâve longed for since he kicked you to the curb. Itâs actually pathetic how much he still affects you, how much you continue to let him affect you like this. Youâll get over him one day, but one day isnât tonight. You arenât like Satoru, willing to debase yourself on a monthly basis. Thereâs only so much self-harm you can engage in before spiraling nowadays.
If youâre being honest, itâd probably kill you to leave Suguru or be left behind by him so often. Satoru is regarded as the Strongest for a reason while you, decidedly, arenât.
âSo good. Thatâs how it should always be,â he croons, and you canât help but preen at the compliment. You deserve a reward for being so good. You tell Suguru as such and he laughs, agreeing, and asks what it is you want.
âInside,â you answer immediately. âI want you inside me.â You feel like that statement is missing something, so you tack on a please at the end of the sentence.
âAnything for you,â he murmurs, like a liar. You let him get away with it, just like you do with everything else.
He strokes himself a few times, smearing your slick along his length, and slaps the tip of it against your sensitive clit before lazily rutting against your folds. Heâs thicker than you remember, thicker than Satoru and most of Shokoâs slim fingers combined. You will strain to take him in, but whatâs pleasure without a little pain.
When he finally enters you, your name falls from his lips weakly, mirroring the way you gasp his own as the head of his cock slips in. Your entire body goes taut at the intrusion, your nails digging into the hard planes of his back as he sinks deeper inside you, inch by inch. This time, you donât stop the tears from falling from your eyes, your whining and his ragged breaths filling the room.
âYouâre taking me so well,â Suguru sighs when he's halfway inside of you. âBut it hurts, doesnât it?â You nod weepily. âItâs a good thing I know you can take it.â
Without warning, he shoves the rest in with a single thrust. It burns; youâre stuffed to the brim with him, spine stiff with unexpected pain as your cunt pulses around him. Your chest heaves with each irregular inhale you take. Heâs kind enough to give you a few moments to collect yourself before he begins to rock into you.
Somehow, he doesnât sound winded, even as his thrusts become deeper and harder and your walls cling tighter around him, as he says, âIt takes me back seeing you like this. Do you remember how we used to be? Before you got your act together with Shoko and I got mine with Satoru? We used to fuck, just like this, but you tried to keep quiet while I encouraged you to be loud so they could hear.â
Of course, you remember. Itâs all you ever do. âYou used toâfuck me in Satoruâs room and leaveâbehind the evidence orâor shamelessly finger me during our study sessions withâ with Shoâko.â
The headboard bangs against the wall rhythmically in time with the way Suguru slams his way inside you with each thrust of his hips, the bed creaking on beat.
âIt was good while it lasted. Wasnât it?â His voice breaks.
You unclench your eyes to look up at him with cloudy eyes. His own have the slightest sheen to them, so you cradle the back of his neck, fingers finding purchase in the long silky strands you used to braid every night as you bring his face near yours.
Bodies connected, breathing the same air, sharing the same space, reminiscing the same memories, this is as close as youâre ever going to get with him. Itâs not enough. Heâs going to leave again, and itâll kill you.
All these little deaths you bring me, you wish to say, and still, I crave you. An addict through and through.
Instead, you tell him through tears, âIt was the best.â
And it wasâbut you need to stop living in the past.
He makes it impossible to do that, though, and really, youâd have it no other way. Youâre unsure what youâd do if he became a definitive thing to move past, rather than just pretending to. Death comes for everyone, but you hope it comes for you before it does for Suguru. Same for Satoru and Shoko.
In an ideal world, the four of you would live until you were all grey and wrinkly, but itâs not. You all will never again see eye to eye and live happily together, even the thing you have going on with Satoru and Shoko is shaky. Everything fell apart when Suguru fell apart, but the cracks in the relationship had started forming during the direct aftermath of the Star Plasma Vessel mission.
You kiss him before you say something stupid, something youâll regret, something heâll hold over you like he did the last time you saw him. It starts gentle, but he deepens it, threatening to swallow you whole like youâre just another curse for him to consume. To be with him forever sounds nice; you hope he curses you, so youâre with him always.
He lifts your legs to his shoulders, bending you in half, and his strokes lessen but are no less bruising. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, making a home for himself. If you canât live within him, he can live within you, at least for this short amount of time.
Warmth curls in your belly when he starts kissing, sucking, and biting his way down your jaw to your neck to your decolletage to your chest, proof that he was really here. Itâs not enough. You want something more permanent.
When your body goes taut again, Suguru coos mockingly, âThere we go. Youâre almost there. Come for me, You can do that for me, canât you, sweetheart?â
It's the endearment that does you in, completely throwing you back to another time.
Your vision goes spotty, clenching around him tighter than before and whimpering SuguruSuguruSuguru as he fills your every sense. You continue to clamp down on him even as his pace falters and he cries your name in your ear.
Body going slack, your legs fall back to wrap weakly around his waist as he slides home one last time before he cums inside you. Itâs warm and wet, filling your insides up. He slumps against you, resting his head on your shoulder as you both catch your breath.
When he pulls out, a gush of cum and slick oozes out of you and onto your sheets. Youâll clean it in the morning. He pulls you into his arms, laying you on his chest; your heartbeats are one.
After a beat of silence, you tell him, âIâI missed you too. So much, Suguru.â
He presses his lips against your temple as he hums âI know.â
Your eyelids grow heavy as sleep threatens to consume you, but you keep them open, gazing up at the man you still love despite everything heâs done. He looks so handsome like this, in your bed and staring at you with adoration in his eyes. The only thing that could make this better is if Satoru were here. You would have joined them in their trysts if you knew it would have given you soft moments like this.
Softly, hesitantly, you make a single request. âPlease stay,â
âOf course,â Suguru agrees.
You rest your head on his chest, fingers trailing over his x-marked scar. Theyâre so faint now, but you remember a time when they were fresh and gushing red with blood. His heart beats steadily in tune with yours, a familiar melody to lull you to sleep.
Youâd like one untainted memory of him, but thereâs something youâve been thinking about since the moment you saw him. Itâs been bothering you this whole time, and you need to know. You recognize the look of someone who knew death was in their future. Except, he seemed to accept that potential outcome wholeheartedly while you had only begrudgingly accepted it. This is where you differ. Heâs willing to die to achieve his goals, but you wish to live to see yours though.
It may as well be a confession. You donât want to say goodbye to him. Not ever, but you donât ever get what you want.
Everything becomes hazy.
âDonât cry. Everything will work out one way or another,â Suguru consoles you, and since heâs found his way home inside your ribcage, the knife slips easily into your heart. He kisses your lips softly, swallowing your quiet cries until theyâve all run out.
âSâSuguru,â you whisper, your voice suddenly failing you as it breaks on the name youâve avoided saying for years. You clear your throat, making another request. âKill me if you must, but leave those two out of it. Especially Shoko. Sheâs innocent.â
He looks so sad once youâve said your peace. Itâd be nice if you could read minds. Maybe if you could, you would have noticed he was lying about the deteriorating state of his mind in your third year. Maybe if you cracked his skull open and placed his brain beneath a microscope, all his secrets and thoughts would spill out. Itâs a silly thought. Youâre not a scientist or doctor like Shoko, after all.
âWhy would I kill you? Or Shoko for that matter.â You notice how he deliberately leaves out Satoru. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. âIâm doing this for you, all of you. You deserve to live in a curse-free world where you donât need to be strong. Wouldnât it be nice to settle down without the fear that settles in your gut every time you think about starting a family?â
So cruel to mention your best kept secret, a future you will never haveâcan never allow yourself to have. So gentle it makes you want to curl up and die. Maybe you could take him with you, stop him before he attempts to pull off whatever plan he has brewing. Satoru always says that sorcerers die alone in the end, but you wouldnât be alone. Not when Suguru is right here, and all youâd have to do is drain him dry of his cursed energy and then life vitality. You would be kind, like how you hoped he would be in return. It would be romantic, in a way, to die side by side, arm in arm, body to body, together forever.
âIt would,â you admit, âbut itâs impossible, and you know it.â
He merely hums in response.
A stalemate, but he doesnât leave you.
Youâll take it. Youâll take anything he gives you. Even if itâs heartbreak.
Sleep takes you in its cold embrace after a few minutes of silence, but before it does, you swear you hear Suguru say, âI was foolish to turn you away, but it was for the best. Youâd have died a slow death with me.â
Not like it would have made a difference, youâve been dying a slow death since the moment Yaga-sensei scouted you.
Such is the life of a sorcerer.
-
Heâs gone by morning; youâd almost believe it was a dream.
There'd be no trace that he was even with you if it werenât for the marks he left behind and the mess he made between your thighs.
Youâre undoubtedly a fool for how easily you let him back in, but Suguru has always had a particular knack for making you pliant to his every whim. He managed to knock down every wall youâve built up in the past decade in a single encounter.
Shoko is going to be so disappointed.
You wonder if Satoru feels this used after their hookups. You hope heâs always the one to leave first, so he doesnât ever feel like this. Itâs a terrible feeling that you wouldnât wish on anybody, especially not on Satoru. He deserves good things even if he chases after what many consider to be the most twisted man in recent jujutsu history.
Entering your living room, you find one of the sake cups shattered on the ground. Another broken thing heâs left in his wake.
A/N: Holy shit, Van is posting something?!?!? Yeah. Anyway this isnt proofread so sorry about that. enjoy! also this is my first fic of the year WOO!
Warnings: SMUT MDNI, unprotected piv, handjob, outside alley sex, reader gets harassed by creeps, barfight, logan loves fighting and being a shithead, mentioned reader being a waitress and wearing jeans, the suit stays ON during sex, i forgot how to do these warnings ngl
He stopped just for a drink,
or two,
or three.
It had been a long day, so hell, why not? He deserves it.
The bar in question was your typical hole-in-wall bar. Located just outside the city, had a nice rustic country vibe to it. Rock music played low on the jukebox by the door. The patrons inside looked rough, men who would kill you if you so much looked at them wrong. His kind of people.
He sat at the bar, and the bartender- a rough looking guy, bald, wearing a bikers cut stood behind the bar, drying a glass as Logan went to sit at a stool. He expected the stares, considering he was still wearing the suit- Didn't bring a change of clothes with him and really didn't much care what people thought anyway. The yellow spandex invites challenge, and he's always up for a good fight.
"You one of them superheros? UhâŚWolverine right?"
"Yeah bub, what of it?"
"My kid loves you guys." The bartender smiles, his entire demeanor changing, he sets the glass down. "Think you could sign an autograph? It'd make his whole year."
Logan looks at him in surprise, and then grins. That's new. Normally he gets flack, being a mutant and all. Unlike the Avengers, the X-men don't receive much recognition for helping out and putting their lives in danger. Not that he was in any risk of losing his life.
"Sure. Give me a drink and I'll sign anything."
"Alright! Pick your poison."
"Whiskey, neat. Beam preferable."
The glass clinked against the smooth bar top. He pulls out a bottle of Jim Beam and pours a generous amount, and sliding it across the counter when Logan catches it, and downs it with ease.
"Keep it coming," He says, sliding the glass back to the bartender. He chuckles and pours him another glass.
"Here you go. I got my boys ball cap out in the truck, he ain't gonna believe it when he sees you signed it." The bartender slides another glass over, and leaving the bottle of Beam on the counter so he could refill as he wants.
"Appreciate it." Logan gives him a nod before nursing the glass more slowly this time. It has an oak-like flavor, with a hint of cinnamon that burned on his tongue. He had a shitty day, but the night seems to be turning out pretty good.
Really, all he need to make it perfect, is a good woman on his lap- and a good cigar too.
He heard some doors open and glanced over, and saw something very easy on the eyes coming out from the kitchen. Just what he ordered.
You were holding two trays filled with glasses and baskets of greasy food and carrying it to a group of men huddled in a corner booth. He caught your eye and he could hear your heart skip a beat, which only made him smirk and fed into his ego.
Logan watched you cross the room, watching how your hips rocked and eyeing your ass, pronounced by the snug high-waisted jeans you were sporting. He caught a whiff of your scent, being hidden by the alcohol and food cooking in the kitchen- you smelled heavenly.
You reached the table of men, setting one tray down and handing food out to the men, who seemed to be jeering at you.
"Thanks baby girl, got anything else for me?" One smirked at you, you raised a brow.
"You just ordered fries, and a rum and coke, correct?" You asked as you continued setting drinks down around the table. Clearly you understand the guy was trying to be an annoying flirt, but you played dumb and hoped he'll leave it alone.
"Yeah, but how about a kiss and your number too?"
You scoffed. "Not on the menu." You retort as you finished handing out the food. "Enjoy your meal."
As you turned to go back, one of them reached over and smacked your ass. You gasped, turning around to smack whoever was closest. It wasn't the one who did it, but they all deserved it anyway. The contact of your hand against the jerks face was so loud Logan could almost feel it on his own cheek.
That set off a chain reaction. The man you smacked, stood up. He was dressed leather which looked to be some poor attempt to look tough but rather look he came straight out of BDSM club, and his horseshoe moustache didn't help either.
He stood taller than you, and his brothers seemed to join. Hurling insults at you and cheering on Mr.Horseshoe as he grabbed your arm.
Logan was already there at your side to get involved. "I think you better leave her alone, bub."
Mr.Horseshoe took one look at Logan, still having ahold of your arm and laughed. You looked between them with concern, managing to tug your arm out of his grip and stepping back. Logan took the chance to get in between you and the men.
"Or what? Going to fight me in that silly costume of yours?"
"Better than walking around looking like a wannabe porn star from the 60's."
"You cocky son of a bitch."
The other patrons that had been watching, 3 other men who were all sitting by themselves like Logan, quickly made haste to leave.
The instigator tried to throw a punch that Logan dodged with ease. He kicked the horsestache guy in the stomach, knocking him into his friends. Another jumped at him with another punch but he dodged that easily too.
"That all you got? Kinda sad." Logan jeers as he begins to circle the gang.
You disappeared behind the counter.
There was seven men- but that wasn't an issue for the Wolverine. They tried to pile on him, kicking and punching but it was pathetic. Logan easily knocked two of them out. Another one finally landed a punch on him- only to cry out in pain holding his fist. His friend and him looked at each other, then at Logan and decided to run once they realized their gang wasn't going to win, perhaps realized who he was. Logan could hear their bikes revving up and the engines disappearing onto the highway.
Another lunged at him, Logan grabbed him and dragged him to the counter and lifting him onto his belly and sliding him down the bar-top, creating a mess of glass and alcohol on the floor before he slammed his head onto it and shoved him to the other side. He heard you yelp as you jumped up a foot away where the guy dropped onto the floor.
"Sorry, darling, you okay?"
You opened your mouth to respond, but instead screamed for him to watch out. He was suddenly impacted with a stool that broke into pieces. Logan responded with a punch, and make that three knocked out. He sighed, turning back to the bar to grab his drink only realizing that it was now on the floor.
"Hey, you motherfucker!" The last survivor, Mr.Horseshoe-stache yells out. Just as Logan turned around, he grunts as he felt a blade being shoved into his gut. "How'd you like that, huh tough guy?"
He stepped back, pulling the knife back out with him and smirking as he waits for Logan to keel over. Several men that Logan originally knocked down are beginning to get back up, stumbling to their feet behind Mr.Horseshoe, one starting to chuckle as he realizes what his friend did.
"Tryna play dirty, huh bub?" Logan smirked, the wound in his gut already healed, only leaving the stain of blood on the yellow of his suit. Charles will lecture him for getting it ripped up again- apparently his suits are getting expensive to replace. "We can play dirtyâŚ"
His fists clenched at his sides, and slowly the sharp claws slid out with a snikt! His smile turned sinister at the looks of the men's faces. The blade clattered to the floor, and they took running out of the bar, Logan shouting after them to come back. Logan could hear doors been slammed shut, and the start of the engine. He glanced at the window, the men had all carpooled into one truck, leaving behind several motorcycles, and took off onto the highway.
His claws retracted, brushing dust off himself. That was fun, but not enough. They pussied out too early- now he was pent up with energy. He hates when he can't finish a fight properly. If you even want to call it that.
"Oh my god, are you okay?!"
You came out of the kitchen, and gasped when you saw the blood. "Hold on, I can call an ambulance- I have to get-"
"No need sweetheart." Logan reassures as he walks up to you. "I'm fine, see?" He tugged the ripped suit enough to show you there was no wound.
"Oh IâŚ" You looked at it, processing that the wound was gone and back up at him. "GoodâŚI'm glad you're okay."
"Yeah. Are you?" His hand reached out to your arm, brushing carefully down it.
You nodded. "I'm fine, thank you, I'm so sorry you got involved in that."
"Ain't a problem. Sorry about the mess."
"OhâŚ" You shrugged looking around with a shy smile. "There's been worse. UmâŚ" Your eyes found his hand that still lingered on your arm and stared at it. You must have been watching through the kitchen door windows and saw he was a mutant with the claws. He lifted his fist up.
"Wanna see?"
You opened your mouth to answer but he let the claws slide out slowly. Your mouth fell open in amazement, stepping closer to him, your hand reaching up to touch the claws.
"Careful. They're sharp."
"Very." You smiled, meeting his eyes and dropping your hand. He dropped his, his claws retracting. "You're with the X-men..Right? I think I saw you guys on the news. UmâŚWolverine!"
He smirked. "At your service."
You seemed a bit starstruck, you stepped closer to him. Your heart was pounding, and he could smell something sickeningly sweet in the air. "Well thank you again, IâŚI really don't know how to thank youâŚ" You looked him up and down, eyes landing on his lips. "âŚMisterâŚWolverine."
Your back hit the brick of the building as Logan's lips crashed onto yours. You could barely catch your breath with the way he kissed you. Eager and rough, his tongue licked into your mouth, teeth nipping at your lips.
His hands run over your body, one moving down to cup your ass, the other sliding up your shirt to cup your breast. His thumb circled over your nipple. You giggled against his lips, your own hands had been their exploring as well, feeling the muscular mass hidden underneath the suit, before reaching down to his belt. You fiddled with it for a minute until you pulled away from him.
"Okay, how do you undo this?" You ask. He chuckles, his hands letting go of you to reach down and undo the belt himself, tugging the spandex down enough so his cock could come free- He doesn't wear briefs in the suit.
You gasped at the sight, eyes widening at his girth.
"Like what you see?"
You looked up at him and bit your bottom lip with a nod. He reached for your hand, bringing it to wrap around his cock. "Don't be shy then darling, don't you want to thank me?"
It made you laugh, as you leaned forward to kiss him again. Your hand began stroking his thick cock and he moaned into your mouth.
This was exactly what he needed to get out his pent up energy.
You continued making out as you stroked up, reaching the head of his cock and swirling your thumb around his tip, gathering pre-cum on the pad of your thumb. You let go, bringing it up to your lips to taste as you looked into the whites of his mask- they hid his eyes, but you could tell by how his smile grew he enjoyed what he was seeing.
"Taste good?"
"Very." You grinned. He growled, hands reaching to untie your apron, and unbuttoning your jeans. You helped him pull them off,along with your panties, and kicking off your shoes as you step out of the denim and leaving them on the ground.
"I'd give you a better taste, but I want to get to the best part. You don't mind do ya?" Heat pooled in your core as you nodded. You leaned up to kiss him again, and he picked you up and lifting you up against his hips and pressed you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around him, arms around his neck to keep him close.
With one arm around your waist to hold you up, his other hand grabbed his cock and lead it to your core. He slipped through your folds, lubing himself up with your arousal, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit.
You gasped, following by a moan. Your grasp on him grew tighter.
"You want it?" He grunted, you nodded quickly. "Say it,"
"I want it, I want your cock. I want you to fuck me." You whimpered, hips beginning to move against his on their own accord. "Please-"
He didn't waste another second, his tip pushing into your weeping hole.
"Oh!" You let out a pant, as he slowly pushed inside deeper. Your head tipped back against the brick wall. Your walls fluttered around him,
"Fuck, you feel good, darling." He groaned as he sunk further inside you. He leaned into you, lips finding your neck and his teeth grazing over your skin. He latched himself onto your neck, sucking more hickeys into the skin to distract himself from cumming inside too soon. He let both you and himself adjust to the feeling, before carefully pulling out and thrusting back in.
His cock stretched you open so perfectly. You were tight as first, but relaxed as he let go of his clamp on your neck to coo into your ear with dirty words. With each thrust you wanted him harder, deeper, whimpering and begging him to do so as he returned to bite down on your neck causing you to cry out. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth afraid of anyone hearing you. The bar was still empty when you brought him back here, but that didn't mean no one has come in since.
One arm looped under your knee and lifted you further up on his hip. The change in position sent a new wave of pleasure through you, since now the head of his cock was brushing over that sensitive spot inside. You clung to him, with every thrust brought you closer to your finish, and your undoing.
"Oh fuck-" You moaned. "Please, just use me-"
You words made something snap in him. He pulled out, setting you down and turning you around. He pushed you against the wall, his hands settling on your hips and he pushed himself inside again. You cried out, bracing your hands on the rough brick wall, but he grabbed your arms and pulled them back, used them as leverage as he began fucking you at a rough pace.
You didn't last much longer, you gushed over him as you came. He moaned, his own legs shaking as he felt you get tight around him, your arousal was soaking him- but he didn't stop. You felt so damn good, and he wanted to savor every second. He released your arms as he leaned over you, one braced on your hip. The other, his hand dipping between your thighs and finding your clit.
"How about another one, sweetness?" He purrs in your ear. "You have such a nice little pussy, I want to treat her good."
His words sent shock up your spine, but you squeezed him tight in response. "Please," You moaned, your hands- now free from his grasp of your arms braced against the brick wall again. You turned your head to get a look at him, meeting his eyes and deciding you weren't going to look away. The mask hides them well, but you felt like you could read him.
He seemed to read your mind and smirked. A hand reached up to grabbed your jaw to keep you looking at him. His other hand still circling your clit. He was so deep now, barely pulling out as he grinds into you. Your walls became tight around him again, and your mouth fell open as you came for a second time. He kept you quiet by kissing you again and shoving his tongue against yours, moaning as you trembled and pulsed around his cock.
He pulled out just as he came, your hand reached down to stroke his cock and milk him of everything he got as he spilled over your hand and himself. He grunts as you push him into over-stimulation, and you let go to lick your hand clean with a seductive smile.
After, he helped you get dressed, tugging your jeans back up, and even kneeling down to help you with your shoes while you fixed your shirt and apron.
"A superhero and a gentleman, what a treat." You smiled. He smirked as he stood back up. "Hope that was satisfactory enough thanksâŚ"
"AbsolutelyâŚ" His hand reached up to cup your cheek, a thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
"Are you going to leave?" You asked, "Cause if Bill isn't back from wherever he disappeared to he will be soon and he'll call the cops when he sees what it looks like in there. Don't want your superhero reputation getting tarnished."
"I'm a mutant sweetheart, to the world I'm already a menace."
You gave him a sad smile.
"I'll walk you back in." He says, his hand beckoning to the back door.
He kept a hand on your lower back as you walked through the kitchen and back out into the bar.
"You sure you don't want me to help clean up? I caused it anyway." He kicks some glass into a small pile.
"No, that's alright, it won't take long." You smiled, "but thanks." You leaned over to kiss his cheek. He begins to walk away but you speak up again "-and uh, Wolverine?"
"Hm?"
"Don't be a stranger, okay?" You smiled shyly. He grinned. His hand reached up to tip your chin up. Without another word he turns but stops as he reaches the door.
You looked up while sweeping to the sound of Bills voice as he stepped inside the bar, a ball cap in hand. "I just ran out to grab Jr's cap that was at home. I was gone for 20 minutes?!"
His arms outstretched in surprise as he takes in the glass on the floor and counter top. Before you could answer, you heard a groan as one of the men from earlier appeared from behind the counter. Apparently forgotten by his comrades, and apparently you and Wolverine forgot too.
"What just happened?" He asks rubbing his head. You and Bill shared a look. You shrugged.
"Oh, uh, Wolverine left this." You stepped over the mess you already swept up and handed him a napkin with an autograph. "For your boy."
Bill took it and looked at it, then back up at you in confusion. You smiled and went back to work, not mentioning the other napkin in your back pocket with a phone number, a heart, and the letter L written on it.
Iâm a huge Jason Todd apologist but omg it genuinely mustâve been the scariest day of Timâs life when some random grown ass man showed up with a Party City Robin costume and started beating his ahh. I donât know if thatâs still canon or not but itâs so embarrassing to the point where I just say it was retconned if anyone brings up that damn speedo and those fairy boots. Istg 99% of being a Red Hood fan is just plugging your ears and going lalala
Like dude take that shit OFF RIGHT FUCKING NOW I beg you.
pairing: whitetiger!satoru x houseleader!reader x oldflame!suguru
đŽ the path between spring and winter strays between a love as old as time and eyes that refuse to recognize what the soul yearns for. but you tip and crash the pliant lines of fate. now, you can see that there are definite benefits to taming the tiger.
wc: 16k
warnings: initially anal, fingering, rimming, heavy voyeurism on reader's end, orgasm control, power dynamics/corruption. later on, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, suguru eats satoru's cum out of you (yeah.), breeding kink, gentle dom suguru and whiny sub satoru (AS ALWAYS!) + satoru cums practically untouched btw, NO dp sadly (i got lazy), HIGH praise, heated homoerotic dynamic
a/n: sorry when i picked out the colors i saw green and blue and it didn't clock to met that. dreamnotfound. does anyone get it. am i just weird. fuck me in the ass anyways HUUUUUUGE THANK YOU TO @nanamitaaa for writing the most DELICIOUS smut i have read in so long and my wifey juju who betaread for me and helped me fix up grammatical inconsistences (love you my wifey)
ALSO. if you didn't know this is inspired by the bl manwha "taming the tiger" by brothers without a tomorrow. it's SO good and it actually has plot! i read it and immediately thought of satosugu and then realized that reader x satosugu in this dynamic is honestly peak. mita and juju thought so too, so now you have this!
general attendance (taglist): @nanamitaaa @cupidstrace @dazedlavender @yukiloverz @indiewritesxoxo
find the rest of varied venom here!
find the rest of my works here!!
dividers by sisterlucifergraphics on tumblr !!!
Nobody dared to touch that which was yours.
âThe child of the woman who slit my throat is crying, yes?â
As if on cue, the newborn boyâs shriek split the air.
For a woman whose sole purpose was to provide an heir to the house, the sound sent a chill down your spine. You didnât let it show on your face, though, as you let the tip of the sword drag on the dirt.
Comfort was a luxury your fatherâs concubine could afford no longer. Since his passing, the woman had mysteriously grown with child, most alarmingly the son of your father. Just the sight irked you. More so were the rumors that the child was not even his to begin with.
And if her son was to take the throne from you, he would have to do it with his mother dead.
The woman laid strewn upon heaps of hay, stained with her blood. Her lips were cracked. And for once, you were glad you werenât able to have children. Glad that your one purpose might have caused you death, and you had narrowly escaped its hands at the behest of the entire nationâs scorn.
âI had thought that Father passing before the child was a blessing from the heavens,â you mused. âNow I see it for what it truly isâa curse, as the woman who cut my neck can never be repaid in kind.â
The ladies in the corner, cowering, lowered their heads in shame, refusing to meet your eyes. The baby wriggled from where he was choked in blankets next to the still body of his mother, shrill cries ripped from his throat.
âMy lady?â someone called out, voice small.
The sword clattered to the ground as you knelt, curling your fingers under the small bundle. âSmall. Yet this little thing has made true the wish I held for so many years of my life. To think, this newborn was the one to kill that woman instead of meâŚâ
You smiled and pressed your lips softly to his wet, wrinkled skin. The baby made a soft, keening sound before relaxing in your arms.
âYou took my revenge for me.â
The sun rose. The moon wept.
And yet with each day that passed, your brother grew more ill and frail. With the possibility of an heir expelled by you, the servants of the house turned to gossip about the fate of your sickly brother.
âYou still have not managed to find any blood?â
Your advisor bowed at the waist, quivering. Pathetic. âMy apologies, my lady. It is justâŚâ
âIâve been told the butchers are not procuring goods today, either.â You pressed the tip of the pipe to your teeth. âWhy?â
âThe butchers live in a small village within the mountains,â he explained timidly, âbut Iâm told one of them has recently passed. When one dies, the butchers halt their slaughtering, as they believe that bad luck can become attached to the meatââ
âAdvisor,â you cut in, leaning forward, âif you die, that would be the end of your family line. Correct?â
There was only a split second of shock written on his face before he fell to his knees, crouched into a bow with a squeak.
âPlease forgive me, my lady!â he pleaded. âIt will not happen again!â
You glared down at his cowering form before turning back to the entrance of the ancestral home. âMy brother requires his medicine urgently. If I leave this to your hand, something like this could happen again. Lead me to the butchersâ village before the dayâs end.â
You could sense his reluctance washing off of the pale man in waves, evident even as the horse beneath you trodded the path of the forest. Indeed, the village was shrouded in the mountains.
It would be serene if not for the feeling of eyes watching you.
âMy lady,â he began quietly, âmust you accompany us?â
You glanced off to the side. âIs there a problem?â
âItâs justâŚâ he hesitated. âIâve heard the tigerâs son lives in this village.â
âTigerâs son?â
A butcher girl gave birth to a childâa healthy baby boy, with no father. The son grew to be so strong, they said he could even carry entire cows by himself.
The man stressed his eyes. Like the azure of tigers.
âYou may think all butchers look strange,â he continued, âbut on top of his foreign features, they say his eyes are the deepest pools of water, so deep you could find yourself lost in them, if they caught you alone at night.â
It was almost dreamy, the lilt of his voice.
âA tiger, hm?â you mused. âVery well. I have yet to go on a spring hunt, so the timing is perfect.â
âPardon, my lady?â the man replied, snapping out of his trance.
âLetâs hunt a tiger.â
You left your little party of worried bodyguards in the shallow part of the forest, where you promised you would return before the sun had abandoned you. Your advisor was not pleased.
That hadnât stopped the tip of your head, inclined to a few wary butchers standing at the log post at the head of the village.
âIâm looking for the man they call the tigerâs son?â you asked.
âOh, you cannot possibly meanââ
âSeems likeââ
One of the men dipped his head, beard curling to the nape of his neck. âMy lady, why do you seek him? Even if you call, he does not come out at nightââ
âYou fool, how dare you?â his companion scolded. âHow can he refuse when her honorable ladyship calls?â
âApologies, my lady,â he mumbled. âHis eyes have a way of crossing travelers at night, and heâs gotten into trouble for it quite a bit around the town.â
âShow me the way.â
The pitiful stack of wood lumped together could not be an excuse for a house. No, it could not. But the men stopped in front of the shameful shack, careful to keep a distance.
âYou have a guest!â one of them shouted into the silent night. âStrongest!â
Strongest. What a peculiar name, and what a peculiar way to live.
âAre you there?â the bearded man called, âcome out, please.â
But only silence met their pleas.
The moon began to bathe the rolling hills in a pale glow.
âThis is a shame,â you said softly, walking up to the bearded man. There was no fear in his eyes as he held your gaze. Pitying. âI absolutely loathe being lied to.â
Your sword never missed its target. The man fell to his knees, clutching his eye. Groveling suited the peasants. They had spoken to you in such an ill manner, so what more did they deserve?
âSo tell me the truth. There isnât anybody here.â
âN-No,â the other man attempted, swallowing hard as the tip of your blade grazed his bobbing throat, âthis is where the tigerâs son lives!â
âReally?â The side of your mouth curved. âLet us try this then.â
You walked straight up to the rotting wood, to the scent of something vaguely threatening, something irritating building in the air. You shook off the wafting scent and leaned in close, lips nearly brushing the splintered door.
âListen, strongest,â you drawled, dripping in mockery, âevery time I call your name, one of these villagers will die. It started with an eye, and it will end with lives. I do not hesitate.â
No response.
You returned to the man, shivering at the edge of the yard, lifting your sword.
âStrongest.â
There was a moment of silence. You could have chopped the manâs head off.
The door creaked open.
âWhy are you looking for me, my lady?â
That voice from the shadows with the strangest eyes youâd ever seen sent a heat pooling in your stomach, a strange feeling lapping at your chest.
The man in the doorway wore nothing over his exposed chest, merely rags at his arms and billowing around his thighs. The planes of his muscles tilted into pale moonlight as you blinked, mouth dry, suddenly at a loss for words.
He was not. Those eyes met yours once more, cerulean and shimmering with a depth even the universe could not begin to comprehend.
âI am a nobody to you,â he continued, voice quiet.
âBow your head, and l-lower your eyes,â the man behind you barked, still trembling at the contact of your sword to his neck.
A laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it.
The man on the ground stilled, sitting up. âMy lady?â A bag of coins fell against his chest.
âI will take him.â
âPardon?â
âIâm looking for a personal slaughterer, one who would live at my estate, of course,â you explained. âIt is not very entertaining, but you would be provided for, and if you need, I shall offer payment.â
The man in the doorway blinked, milky tresses teetering on the edge of silver brushing against solid wood.
âYou see, I despise the ordinary.â You smiled. âBut Iâve taken a liking to you.â
âMy lady, you must be hungry. Please eat before the food goes cold.â
Papers shuffled between your fingers, slender ink strokes spelling out a tale as old as timeâtrivial gossip of the rival houses. The world did nothing, if not talk and talk and talk.
âWhat of my brother?â you asked instead, flitting to the next page.
âThe young master has taken his medicine with a share of the porridge and is resting.â
You gave a small nod. âIt seems the butcher is doing his job properly.â
The advisor ducked his head. âIndeed. Thanks to him, we have the blood medicine on a regular basis.â He paused for a moment. âWould you⌠like to see the young master?â
âNo.â Your response was immediate. âI do not want him catching something from me.â
Your poor, sickly brother. Touching, if not for the simple fact that his life was the edge upon which you danced a ballad of your houseâs fate. And it rested in the crimson droplets that only animals could provide. With their sacrifice, he lived to breathe another day.
âIf that is allââ
âWhat is he doing?â you interrupted, eyes straying to the field where a lone figure stood near the well, hunched over the edge. The tigerâs son.
Water trickled from his body, rippling over his shining skin as he leaned over to grab another bucketful. White wisps of hair remained plastered to his neck, twisting and writhing like snakes with every elegant movement.
âHe was covered in blood,â your advisor explained, âso I told him to wash himself before coming to see you.â
âIs that so? The water is quite cold this time of year, yes?â You trailed his actions with your eyes. âBut it seems he does not feel it.â
You had already decided on a name for him. The moment your eyes met his, the sense of enlightenment, of knowingâlike he could read your soul just from a single cursory glance.
Satoru. The enlightened one. It felt proper, as if it had always been so.
Would he understand, now, if you called for him?
âSatoru,â you attempted, his name falling from your lips and drifting across the still yard. The world seemed, not to hold its breath, but to release it, carrying your words to him.
The man lifted his head, turned in your direction. He was so bold to even meet your eyes, electric windows to the very sky.
âYes, my lady?â he asked, across the quiet.
âCome here.â
He did not falter in his movements, graceful as he crossed the breadth of the field in less than a moment to arrive at your feet. Satoru hesitated at the foot of your arbor, choosing instead to kneel at the foot of the wood.
âNo.â You waved a hand, dismissing the advisor. He lingered near the edge, eyes flitting between the two of you. âUp here, Satoru.â
The man swallowed tightly at the sound, blinking for just a moment before he crept up to sit right in front of you. Water dripped from his very being, clinging to the corners of his eyelashes and pooling at the slant of his chest.
âPardon, but my ladyââ your advisor began.
âNo.â You turned back to Satoru, eyes sharp. âOh, my. Youâre dripping everywhere, do you see?â
The man bit his lip, lowering his gaze, cheeks burning with shame. He managed an apology through his frantic swiping at the ground.
You watched him for a moment. How cute.
âLeave it,â you said instead. âHere, eat.â
There was always a dazzling array of foodsâseared meat, steaming rice, fresh fruit and sauces dripping from every ounce of it. Satoru was hungryâthat, much like everything else, was apparent in his eyes.
But he stilled, hesitating, turning his head from you to the food.
âYou want me⌠to eat this?â he asked.
âMy lady, expensive food like thatââ
This time, your advisor was smart enough to cut himself off, hissing at the sharp sting of withering coals upon his foot as you tipped your pipe the other way.
âHavenât I told you how much I despise noise, especially during my meals?â you seethed, although your anger was quiet and subtle and just as horrifying, judging by the horror that struck his eyes. âLeave.â
The man scurried off in a flash of silk and fear.
You gestured to the quickly cooling food. âEat.â
Never before had you seen a man eat so quickly. He scarfed the food down like the world would end just a moment later, just to rub at his chest after a few such bites. It was charming, the way his eyes kept flying back to you.
âI see you have a big appetite,â you mused. âI think we shall need more.â
âWill you not eat, my lady?â he asked, hands folding at the crux of his thighs.
âMe?â you echoed, fazed. âWhatever are you worrying about me for?â
âBecauseâŚâ You caught his throat bobbing. âYou look pale.â
The remark had come scarring and searing from your step-mother, and then your father, and everyone else who dared to question you. But coming from him, it sounded more like a tender question. Almost⌠caring.
Almost like the glint of concerned mauve and inky hair in the sunlight.
It was enough to make you laugh, slipping your fingers against the bridge of your nose. âOf course. It shouldnât amuse me that the only person in this entire estate to truly care for my well being is the lowly simpleton.â
Satoru simply blinked at you and cocked his head.
You shook your head. âDo not worry about me. You eat, first.â
âYour father would like to take another one of mine as a concubine,â you said flatly to the woman sitting across from you. âHow does he still have the energy to get up to such things?â
âHe is ridiculously healthy,â she replied with a slight shrug.
Only one woman was permitted to be so casual with you, and that would be your childhood friend, Shoko Ieiri. Well, one of them.
âSay, I heard youâve taken in a butcher,â she continued, raising an eyebrow. âVery unlike you.â
âSatoru?â you asked, the name slipping out from under your tongue.
âSatoru?â she echoed, a laugh following soon after. âThat is his name? How unusual.â
âI named him,â you muttered. âThey called him âStrongestâ for lack of a name, so I gifted him one.â
Shoko was a meticulous woman. When she set her sights on something, it was most often found dead in her fingers. So you could see the intricate strings of her mind weaving the thought she wouldnât dare say aloudâwhat possessed you to name a man?
Instead, she replied, âSo you are keeping men, now, as pets?â
âIt is none of yourââ
âYou like him so much, but you know, he is an orphan,â she said softly, more concerned than mocking. âHow do you think he survived this long? Iâve heard heâs known for burying his head in the skirts of lonely widows.â
The third time youâve heard such nonsense, and it was beginning to sound like anything but nonsense. Still, if he was good at it, perhaps you could make use of such skillsâŚ
âYou are the third person to tell me this, Shoko,â you said.
âThey have all told you the same thing, my lady.â
âBut do you know what else they say?â You leaned in closer. âThey say that I have taken him as a concubine. That we engage in sexual intercourse.â
Shokoâs lips parted. âAssuredly not. Who would dareââ
âJust chatter behind my back,â you replied, âbut what do you think?â
âThink⌠of what?â
âOf my taking a concubine.â
Shoko spared a sultry grin. âAh, have you taken a liking to me? Iâd be honoredââ
âCrazy woman,â you cut in, but you were smiling as well. True, no one was able to lift your spirits as high as the girl you spent your childhood with.
Footsteps pattered outside of the room. His silhouette and its twin shadow took up nearly the entire plastered window.
âCome in, Satoru,â you said.
âYou called, my lady?â he said politely, dipping his head to the lady in front of you even as her eyes widened, darting to you in a silent, I apologize for everything I said before, as I completely understand your thoughts now.
âI can see why women go mad for him,â she said thoughtfully as soon as her thorough examination of him was done. The poor man, he stood through it all rigid, eyes fixed on you like an anchor through choppy waves.
âDo you like him?â you asked.
The corner of her mouth turned upwards. âAre you letting me borrow him?â
âIt seems like I may have another use for him, so why not let you teach him?â You shrugged.
Her laugh was like tinkling glass. âAh, a butcher concubine. How exotic. How old are you?â
Satoruâs eyes had not left yours for a moment. âTwenty-two.â
Shoko tipped her head in your direction. âThen I shall send for him when the preparations are finished.â
On occasion, you allowed yourself to be interrupted while tending your garden. If the situation presented itself to be important, then you would let your fingertips run across the fine petals and calm yourself.
If not, you would take the insolent brat and toss them in a river.
This time, your robe was already slipping from your shoulders as you prepared to rest, yet your eyes were not nearly tired enough from the day. Perhaps if you stared at vibrant bursts of color, you would findâ
â⌠My lady.â Satoruâs voice, for such a large man, was awfully small.
âCome in,â you said softly, continuing as soon as he was knelt behind you, âand what bothers you now?â
Satoru averted his eyes. âThat woman⌠from today. Ah⌠am I meant toâŚâ
You turned. âThatâs right. Are you against it?â
He lowered his head. âThat isâŚâ
âThere are rumors, of you,â you replied. âI am simply taking advantage of them. Making full use of what is mine. Why? Does this bother you?â
âI am⌠unsure,â he admitted suddenly. âI have never⌠done anything further thanâŚâ
âIs there truly a difference?â you asked, knowing well enough that there was a difference to the light in his eyes.
âBack thenâŚâ he paused, âI did what I had to because I was hungry and needed to survive.â His hands trembled on the carpet, eyes fixed on his further whitening knuckles.
âBut now your stomach is full?â you finished, stepped forward. He lifted his gaze just enough to graze the skin of your ankles. âOh, what to do. I already promised, hm?â
Kneeling in front of him, you traced the unsteadiness of the column of his throat, his thighs shifting, pants tenting. His eyes were sinful, indeed, wandering over you fitted in loose robes and far too much exposed skin.
âTo think you say you are unsure even as your eyes are anything but,â you continued, pulling at the neckline of your robe to let the skin of your collarbone shift against the silk. âI think you are lying to me. You should know somethingâI donât like when people lie to me, Satoru.â
The pink of his tongue ran across his lips. âSince you are so pretty, my ladyââ
You bit back a laugh, instead choosing to let the mocking smile drip across your lips as you pulled yourself back to your feet. âI was right, after all.â
âPardon?â he whispered, breathless like you had taken the air from him.
âYou get excited looking at women,â you replied simply, âand that is enough for now.â Your fingers curled around his chin, forcing him to look upwards into your eyes. âI found you because I have an excellent eye for people.â
The tip of your thumb tugged at his lip. He opened, obedient, eyes half-lidded as you let your finger roam around the pad of his tongue, the ridges of his teeth.
âHow could I not use you?â you mused, although it was more to yourself. âIt would be a waste of such a fine creature, no?â
You leaned forward, tugging him closer, voice pitched feather-soft.
âTomorrow, after spending the night with her, come see me. If you like, you can have me too.â
That haze in his glassy eyes was unmistakable.
âYes, my lady.â
âThe preparations are complete,â Shoko lilted. âTonight, we shall find out if your little pet is capable of living up to your standards.â
âSince when were you aware of my standards?â
âSince you brought home strange butchers without my permission,â she replied.
âRemind me again why I keep you around?â you teased.
âWho else would look after you as well as I do?â Shoko grinned. âNow, let us be on our way.â
In some strange, twisted game, you would never have to tell her what you were planning. It was as if you could see your own thoughts reflected in endless fields of fertile soil, the seed of your ideas planted in your presence.
So, in keeping, she knew that you were about to head to the market to watch Satoru with your advisor as they bought and fitted appropriate clothes for tonight.
Shoko offered to come along, no doubt to ogle at Satoru as he tried on different fabrics. You couldnât stop her, as the thrum of her blood was almost as exciting as yours.
More out of sorts, the merchant your advisor had stopped atâby chance, perhapsâwas shaking his head and muttering.
âNo, no. We do not sell to butchers,â he growled, accent heavy under his words. âDo you want to get arrested? Who would waste precious silk like this on a butcher?â
Your advisor scowled. âNow, see here, donât you know whatââ
âWho, you ask?â
It was almost endearing, the way Satoru perked at the sound of your voice, twisting to see the origin of the sword whose holsterâs edge was currently pricked at the merchantâs neck.
âSo if a butcher wears silk clothes,â you continued, tilting the blade up, âheâll be arrested and taken to the governmentâs office?â
âM-My ladyââ
âHim, getting arrested, or you dying by my sword.â The glint of the eerie sunlight and your eyes shone in tandem. âWhich do you think is faster?â
The man swallowed.
âStop worrying over senseless things and get to work,â you purred, âbefore I come back here and finish the job myself.â
âU-Understood,â the man stammered, shuffling back to his stall.
âMy lady, I insisted thatââ
You cut your advisor off with a hand. âNonsense. I do not need others to do what I am perfectly capable of doing myself.â
Satoruâs eyes dipped lower, to the fabric spilling from your hands. âMy lady?â
âDo you like it?â You held it up to his skin, admiring the brush of silk against smoother skin, the vibrancy of his eyes. âIt suits you, Satoru.â
âMe?â
âWho else?â You pressed a palm to his chest. âYes. Or tell me if something else is to your likingââ
âNo,â he interrupted, proceeding to flush, âit is perfect, my lady.â
âYou think so?â You draped the silk over his shoulder. âNot too heavy?â
âIt is light,â he replied simply.
The light of his own eyes sparkled back at you. Darker, still, than Shokoâs light gaze fixed on the two of you.
âSay, the way your peasant looks at you is cute,â she brought up on the walk across the bridge. âI do not know why you would name such a beautiful man Satoru, of all things. You should have named him⌠butterfly, or something.â
âButterfly?â you mocked. âWatch your mouth. You know how I am.â
âAlright, alright,â she relented, drifting past you. âYou will still let me borrow him, yes?â
âI shall think of it.â You smiled at her open mouth.
But the highlight of your day was found upon the glinting of your sword as you sharpened it. Sparks flickered between your skin, but your vessel would never harm you. It was your only source of compassion, of worry, of care.
Lately, you found yourself wondering if you had found yourself another source. A living, breathing source, with a warm body and a soft smile and hair like splintered moonlight.
âMy lady, may I enter?â His voice was always so careful, as if he feared raising it would result in shattering the silverware stacked in precarious towers around you.
âYou may.â You ran a finger along the flat edge of the blade, satisfied at the sheen, at the sheer beauty.
You were no less satisfied when you finally laid eyes on Satoruâs waiting form, kneeled in front of you. His hair, captured in milky ringlets atop his head. Eyes boring into yours, alight with liquid gold.
âVery nice,â you said, finally. His body relaxed, slightly. âI think Shoko will like you very much. I was unable to have your clothing ready for tonight, but they will be ready the next time.â
âWill I not be undressed when I⌠commence, my lady?â
You stood. âYes, well, you cannot keep greeting guests⌠half-naked, Satoru.â
He did not look embarrassed. Only slightly worried.
You reached out to grasp his chin, running your finger along his bottom lip. He parted his lips, as if on silent command, but you shook your head.
âSatoru, youâll do well tonight for me, yes?â
âYes.â There was no worry nor hesitation in his answer.
You smiled. âThen come find me when you are finished.â
A golden ribbon of tea unfurled from the kettle, steaming as it pooled in your cup. Not much longer until the silence of the night would settle in your mind.
A knock rattled the thin frame of the door. âM-My lady? Are you awake?â
âNo use asking when that surely would have woken me,â you mused, setting the kettle aside. âCome in.â
You hadnât regarded his state when he stumbled inside. You were focused on trying to set the temperature of the tea to a warmth that would surely calm his nerves. You had hoped Shoko had satisfied him, to some level.
But there was nothing but longing in his eyes as he knelt, nearly crawling up to where you were seated, fingers brushing against the fabric of your robe.
âMy ladyâŚâ he whispered, then again, âmy lady.â
âYes?â you asked, fiddling with the cup.
âPlease,â he nearly whined, forcing you to finally spare him a glance.
A robe of his own was half-undone, sweat beading at his brow. His frame shook with every shallow, unsteady breath he took, eyes heavy as they ran over yours.
You glanced downwards, to the prominent bulge against his stomach.
âImpatient, are you? Well, a promise is a promise.â
You expected nothing from a manâto rip off your clothes and push himself into you, to use you, simply put. But Satoru was nothing like any other man.
He dipped to his knees, unsteady as his trembling fingers untied the knot of your robe. Once it fell away, a gasp parted his lips as he leaned forward.
âMy lady?â His fingers reached out, brushing against the scar on your neck. A crimson reminder that no matter how far you ran, how safe you felt, there would always be a target on your back.
Your lips pursed. âNever mind that.â
âAre you⌠okay?â he whispered.
You found it in yourself to laugh, short and cruel. âIt comes as a shock, even the second time. The only person to ask me of my scar happens to be the one peasant I choose to bed.â
âMy lady⌠I did not meanâŚâ Satoru cut himself off, instead choosing to grasp your fingers and lead them to his hair.
You threaded, then tugged, experimentally. The beginnings of a sweet sound coiled in the back of his throat as he began to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the damp fabric covering your pussy.
Satoru hooked his fingers into the curves of the fabric and pulled down, blinking with bleary eyes at the sight of your swollen and glistening folds. His eyes flickered to yours, burning, before he buried his face between your thighs, laying waste to your dripping cunt.
When you guided him upwards, he rolled his tongue over your clit, flicking it back and forth, wringing more sweet nectar. Slender fingers dug into the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh as he let you pull him harder against his greedy mouth, grinding against his face.
His tongue chased the building pressure unfurling rapidly in your lower belly, a ribbon of pleasure spooling from your entrance, parting with the flat of his tongue then delving inside, plunging into your tight heat with a guttural moan.
Satoru stroked along your walls, his nose pressed tight against your clit. The obscene sound of his mouth working at your cunt filled the room, mingling with the shallowness of the night.
âI take it,â you managed through heavy breaths, âthat Shoko did not satisfy you?â
Satoru shook his head, still between your thighs, refusing to part to reply.
He lapped at your clit, suckling the sensitive nub, pulling the arch of your body before you could even think to stop him. Your thighs trembled around his head as he pressed the broad side of his tongue deeper into your fluttering walls.
It took him a moment, of your overstimulation and prying him away, for him to lean back, running his tongue over his lips. His eyes stayed fixed in a trance on your drooling pussy, almost in a daze as his own fingers moved to unravel the strings of his robe.
And perhaps the lack, thereof, of a male concubine was why your lips parted at the sight. His erect cock was tufted with snowy hair at the base, flush against his stomach. Even while leaking with beads of precum from the mushroom tip, he merely leaned forward, muffling a soft moan in your skin.
âMy ladyâŚâ he whispered. âI⌠I cannot.â
âCannot⌠what, Satoru?â
âI-Inside⌠I have neverâŚâ As he swallowed, his skin seared where you brushed his cheek, pulled his gaze back to meet yours. âI am afraid.â
âYou need not do anything you do not want to,â you crooned, tucking strands of fallen moonlight behind his ear.
âBut I would like you to feel good,â he mumbled, lips curling into a pout as if he was angry with himself for just the thought of fearing this.
You could not blame him any more than you could blame yourself.
So instead, you guided his body against yours, lifting your hips so that his hands were pressed against the back of the apex of where your upper and lower thighs met. Without complaint, Satoru settled between your thighs, cock slipping easily between your slick folds, thick head nudging against your swollen lips.
Almost instinctively, he started to rut against you, his hips rolling and rocking as he dragged himself along your slit. His sensitive tip caught on your clit with each gentle thrust, forcing his eyelids to flutter shut, hiding those pretty blues from you.
âNo,â you said softly, âopen your eyes.â
The corners of his lips quivered as he gazed back down at you, fingers that were previously resting on your hips reaching down to spread your folds and expose your clit so that the curve of his prominent vein fit nicely against it.Â
âOh, my ladyâhahâyou will be my end,â he whimpered, muscles flexing like there were restrains holding him back. âI think⌠I am addicted.â
Rolling your hips, you pressed harder against the hot, swollen weight of him grinding between your thighs, chasing the flash of electricity akin to his eyes when the crown of his cock skimmed your clit.
Those buzzing irises were caught on the sight of his cock sliding in and out of the tight press of your thighs, even as his fingers padded at the plush, gently trying to pry you apart.
âMy lady, y-you cannotââ Satoru cut himself off, pressing his teeth against his bottom lip before immediately continuing, âdon't stop, please don't stop.â
âDo you know what Shoko said, this evening?â you said, a teasing smile dancing over your lips.
âW-What did the ladyânghâsay to you?â he managed in reply, although it was clear his thoughts were entirely elsewhere.
âShe said âbutterflyâ is a more fitting name for you.â
Satoru stilled the pace of his hips, brows pulling together. âBut⌠I have grown attached to the name you have gifted me, my lady.â
âIs that right,â you mused, âSatoru?â
He swallowed, continuing the steady drag of his hips, kissing against yours where pale skin met the apex of your stomach. His body was much closer, the distance too little to bridge the soft whine that fell past his lips.
âOnce⌠once more, please, my lady?â
âSatoru,â you whispered, repeating it like a promise, âSatoru, Satoru.â
It only took that, and a moment in his mind before his cock twitched between your thighs, pearly trails streaking over your body. Thereâs a pause as he took a breath before flushing madly, bringing his fingers to his mouth, shame piercing his words.
âI apologize, I made a mess,â he managed, ears pink, eyes feverish.
âThen clean it up,â you breathed, cradling his body as he lowered his tongue without a question, lapping at your skin, at his cum forming translucent pools.
âThank you,â he whispered, âthank you so much, my lady... I needed you so badly it almost hurt.â He pressed a kiss to the swell of your stomach as your fingers wove into his hair.
âYou have clients, Satoru,â you tried to say, but he silenced you with a broad stripe of his tongue to your hardened nipples, sealing his lips over the peak for but a moment. âOr would you prefer to just be mine, forever?â
Against the heel of your foot, his cock stirred once more. You grinned.
I need water. It must have slipped out between lush moans and praise, however many rounds later. You had lost track, and your mind was too hazy to even think of attempting to keep count.
âMy lady?â he asked, stilling the pace of his hips.
âWho said you could stop?â you slurred, batting at his shoulder.
âMy lady, are you thirsty?â
âHaaââs fine, continue,â you mumbled, buzzing from a pleasure now dulling between your thighs. You grasped at his arm even as he glanced around the room.
âI shall fetch you water, my lady. I will be right back.â
So you laid your head back, fanning at your face, fingers creeping above your stomach. You didnât bother touching, for you already knew no matter how much you tried, you were absolutely ruined for his touch, and his touch only.
It seemed the same could be said back.
You had heard the clatter, soft yet noticeable, right outside your door the moment they tried breaking in. You didnât anticipate any interception from Satoru, at least not this early on.
âMy lady,â his voice came through the door, muffled yet strained, startling you. âPlease cover yourself.â
You threw the robe over yourself, asking, âWhat happened?â
A man covered in black found his place, thrown on the ground. Satoru pressed his foot into his back, pinning him down, his robe rippling over his feet.
âWho are you?â he pressed. The man choked on his words, gasping for air, clawing at the ground, at the distance between you and him.
Satoru narrowed his eyes. âHave you come for the lady?â
Poor soul, he nodded, not truly understanding the depth to which Satoru asked his question.
Shoko had always been a horrible judge of character. It resulted in her lying in the bed of a man she did not know, then resorting to her pipes to smoke away her worries.
So when Satoru snapped the manâs neck with a clean twist, then kicked him away, you were inclined to laugh.
For how was this a butterfly?
You had named him fittingly. Satoru truly was enlightened.
For instead of reveling in the rush of his actions, he crossed the room to fall at your feet, on his knees as he looked up at you with the most reverent of eyes.
âMy lady, forgive me.â
âFor what?â
âI didnât bring the water.â
âIs that so?â His face was warm, flushing where your fingers brushed against his skin. âIs bringing me my water more important than this?â
âYes, of courseâŚâ
There was a dazed look in his eyes, as if there was no other correct answer.
Smiling, you stroked his cheek, leaning forward enough to let your noses brush. His clothed cock grew rigid against your thigh once more, and he bucked his hips, whining into your neck as you whispered in his ear.
âGood boy, Satoru.â
âMy lady?â
A sharp ringing pierced through the serenity of your still, quiet mind.
âMy lady, are you there?â
No, not the voice you wanted to hear. Not Satoruâs voice.
âMy lady! You must wake!â
You blinked, sitting straight, waking to a bed still balmy with warmth and arousal. Sticky messes trailed from between your thighs up to your chest.
âWhat time is it?â you called out, horrified to hear the scarred mess that was tumbling from your throat.
âThree in the afternoon, my lady,â your advisor shouted back. âI did not wish to disturb your rest, so I returned later. However, this is quiteââ
The rest of his complaints faded into the buzzing in your ears. Three? In the afternoon? I couldnât have slept that long. I havenât slept at all inâŚ
Satoruâs silhouette flashed behind your eyes.
What was going on?
When you, the daughter to one of the most prominent houses in all of the empire turned thirteen, an assassin snuck in and slit your throat.
It was rumored to have been the very concubine whose child now called you elder sister. You would never let him carry that burden, that guilt.
And now, you spent your restless nights keeping yourself occupied with thoughts of a lifetime, tending to your garden, or brewing tea.
Sleep would not come to you.
So how had you slept so deeply last night?
âListen,â Shoko insisted, drawing your attention and thoughts back to her. âThat butcher is extraordinary. I can count on a single hand how many nights were as magical as that one.â
âMagical,â you echoed, âis that so?â
âHow about handing him over to me?â she suggested. âName any price, my friend, and Iâll give you double.â
âI might let others borrow that which is mine,â you warned, âbut I do not give them away.â
âOf course, of course.â Shoko shook her head like she could ever come close to understanding it. âYou would rather destroy something of yours than hand it over.â
After all, there was a reason no one dared to touch that which was yours.
You knelt before the pedestal, the image of your late mother staring back at you. Her eyes had always been cold, words crueler.
When she died, her hand reached for your cheek.
She did not comfort you. Did not wipe your tears.
Your mother rested her hand and told you, âYour father never loved me. And in the end, he will never love you, either. Nobody will.â
That wasnât what you wanted to hear.
âMother.â You met her eyes through the portrait. âIn this godforsaken place, I have found one who cares. Amusing, as he comes from the lowest of all my collections. When even you could not protect meâŚâ
The thin wood snapped under your fingers.
âMy lady. I have brought your infusion.â Your advisor bowed, carrying a tray with a cup of the most horrendous tea you had ever tasted in your life.
âIâm told it is stronger than the last?â you confirmed.
âYes.â
âThank you. You may leave, now.â
You brought the bowl to your lips, preparing your throat for the dry, bitter swirl.
âMy lady.â
âIs that you, Satoru?â You lifted your eyes. âCome in.â
âMy lady, Iââ
His eyes widened as he saw your lips brush against the rim of the cup. With what time you had to blink, he crossed the threshold of the door and swiped the bowl out of your hands.
âMy lady, please do not drink this.â Satoru brought it to his nose, dragging a long inhale before shaking his head. âIt has been tainted.â
âOh, my sweet. That is precisely why I must drink it.â
The smile on your face did nothing to combat the horror on his.
âMy⌠my lady?â
âI can see you donât understand.â You grasped the bowl from his trembling fingers, unable to stop you. âIf I drink this and live, Iâll tell you myself. If I die, ask my advisor.â
The taste of poison was a little sweeter when Satoru held you in his arms, sweet voice calling out for his lady. You slipped into the darkness like a tear for the sea.
When you woke, it was to a clear mind.
Drinking poison to stay alive. How pathetic. Youâd laugh if it werenât so horrible.
âMy lady?â Satoru asked quietly as you blinked up at the still ceiling.
âAh.â You folded your hands over your chest. âI survived.â
âWhyâŚâ he murmured, swallowing. âWhy would you do such a thing?â
âThere is a bounty on my head,â you said simply. âAssassination attempts are common. Yet I wonder, why are you here?â
âThe medicineâŚâ He shook his head. âI needed to stay by your side and watch over you.â
âYou⌠protected me?â
âYes, my lady. I shall protect you. A person is defenseless when they are asleep.â
Not quite. You reached out for the collar of his robe, pulling him down onto the ground to lie besides you.
âPlease rest, my lady,â he insisted, even as you burrowed your face into his chest, into the smell of sunshine, eternity and earth.
Maybe you⌠will save me.
Shoko tipped the glass back, the curve of her neck cascading with her seventh drink of the night. But she had always handled it well.
Even now, with her flushed cheeks, she managed to make coherent thoughts.
âWhere is Satoru, anyways?â Save for her words, strung together and choppy, she maintained excellent posture, eyes rapt and alert.
âI think he is with a client,â you mused, nursing your first glass.
âAw,â she whined, planting her hands on the ground. âIâm too late.â
âYes.â
âAh, by the way,â she said suddenly, perking up, âI ran into Sugââ
âIâm leaving!â
The door slammed shut in the room across from your motherâs quarters, where you and Shoko had taken refuge from your advisor. The woman storming from the room fumed, face flushed, robes askew.
âWhat happened?â you asked, standing to greet her.
âMy lady!â She spoke with respect, yet her tone was pitched octaves far too high for your ringing ears. âThat butcher! I came because Lady Ieiri had preached of his talents, but he canât even get it up!â
âCanât get it up?â you echoed.
âHuh?â Shoko slurred.
âIn any case, Iâm leaving,â she blustered, pulling her robes up and stomping out of the estate.
âShoko, leave,â you said quietly, turning back to the room where Satoru was.
âHuh? Why?â she whined. âI have to be alone, again?â
Your advisor found her quickly with her loud complaints. He even sent her home, without a word. The entire estate avoided you until the moon was at its peak. Perhaps they could sense your displeasure.
âI heard you failed a client, Satoru.â
The man in question bowed, shame painting his ears, face lowered to the ground.
âWhy?â You crouched in front of him, robes spilling in front of his curved form. âYou had no problem getting aroused for me.â
âThatâs because... it is you, my lady,â he said simply.
âSo youâve become attached to me, is that it?â
Satoru didnât answer at first. Just nodded, swallowing thickly.
âPleaseâŚâ he said, softly, âplease punish me.â
âPunish?â
Your fingers found the mess of his hair, pulling sharply back to expose the slant of his jaw, tilting upwards to you.
âYour tongue. Show me.â
Satoruâs lips parted and you pressed yourself into him, teeth grazing, almost as if to devour him whole. His eyes softened, body relaxing.
That was when you sank your teeth into his tongue.
Not too deep, just sharp enough to leave blood dripping into his mouth. And instead of reacting to the pain, Satoru keened back into your touch, even as you retracted.
âFrom now on,â you began, running the ruby of his blood over your teeth, âI will watch. So look at me when you need to become aroused. After all, you should prove your worth to me, no?â
Satoru blinked, panting, crimson dripping from his lips.
âYes, my lady.â
You watched the conversation from the shadows.
Yes, indeed, Satoru admitted affection so easily. Even now, he flushed to himself as his fingers brushed against his tongue, soothing the sting of phantom teeth.
And yet your eyes, glassy in his reflection, were still entangled in the gaze of another. Everyone was forbidden from speaking his name. Shoko was the lone exception to the rule.
Suguru Geto.
A old flame, perhaps. Rekindled by the sparks of hatred as your swords clashed in a field where blood ran thickly into the dirt. Even thicker was the loathing in his eyes as he regarded Satoru calmly.
He was always quiet in all the ways that truly mattered.
Suguru stood there, silent, plum robes rippling over his frame, hair pulled back into an elegant twist pinned at the nape of his neck. Stray strands fought to escape with the wind, escape from the tension pricking at his glowing skin.
âYou there.â
Satoru turned, glancing over his shoulder, a hand lying dormant on the flank of the rumbling cow.
âAre you going to slaughter that cow? Have you reported it to the governorâs office?â
âI do not know,â he replied, calm as ever.
âFailure to report the slaughter of an animal is illegal.â Suguru stepped forward, waning the distance far too much for your liking. But you remained still. âThe lady certainly has spoiled you.â
âIâm not sure what you mean.â
âItâs quite clear, in the way you speak to me without bowing your head.â Suguru raised an eyebrow. âLeave the cow. I will registerââ
âI cannot,â Satoru cut in. âI must finish what my lady asks of me.â
Suguruâs eyes flashed, then, faintly. Perhaps shock, that a mere butcher would speak down to him.
There was a moment of silence, then. You pondered what Suguruâs face was doing.
âDo you know, I was her first?â he remarked suddenly, unprovoked. Simply for the love of the truth that you found yourself loathing less and less with every day you spent apart.
Satoru lifted his head, unbothered. âAnd I will be her last.â
The tip of Suguruâs sword, but a mere extension of his arm, grazed against Satoruâs neck. You had always seen it as the tips of his fingers, even now as they brushed against the column of the other manâs throat.
Satoru didnât fight back. He simply let the other man push him onto the ground, dust caking his clothes. Suguruâs foot found the plane of his stomach, pinning him down, a smirk playing at his lips.
âFrom your attitude, I expected more,â he drawled, pressing the tip of his foot a little deeper into the skin as Satoru hissed at the contact, âbut this is pitiful. Perhaps I should put you out of your misery and make it so that you cannot join us on the hunt?â
Yet his fingers restrained. It was unlike him to hesitate.
Perhaps Suguru had noticed you, earlier. Perhaps that was the sole cause for his little show. Because his eyes showed no concern nor shock as your sword swept mere inches from his eyes, parried by his own blade.
You pulled the conflict away from Satoru, pulling himself up from the ground, eyes reverent as they wandered over your dancing forms. Suguru was skilled with a swordâhis talents spread through the empire.
But you were always better.
His blade clattered against the ground, dirt and metal making an unlikely pair as you forced him further back.
âWith those skills,â you said, âhow do you expect to protect Her Majesty, Suguru?â
âHow can I win against you?â he replied calmly. âYouâve always been a match for a thousand warriors.â
The flattery was pleasing, at a time. Before it was thick on your skin and suffocating with the promise he held in his eyes.
âAnd yet you dare to make a disturbance in my home?â The sun glimmered off of the blunt side of the blade.
Suguru brushed it aside, deftly avoiding the blow. âIndeed. That butcher has quite the attitude.â
âThat would be because I spoil him.â You smiled, eyes dripping over the way that spot between his eyebrows creased. âI ask for your understanding.â
As if the needle pressed between his chest werenât enough, you decided to wedge it further.
âSatoru,â you called, âcome here.â
âYes, my lady.â His hand came up, absently, to brush dust off of his clothes as he wandered towards you, confused.
âAs his master, punishing Satoru is my responsibility, no?â You asked, not bothering to wait for a response as you tilted your head back, fingers curled around the back of Satoruâs head, tugging at his hair. âOpen.â
On command, he parted his lips, exposing his healing tongue. You didnât have to look to see the lack of surprise when you bit back down into his tongue, pressing your lips back to his.
âI believe this is appropriate punishment,â you crooned, pulling away for a moment to glimpse Suguruâs expressionâcrestfallen, the sun beyond the horizon.
Satoruâs eyes remained locked onto yours, save for the flit of them to the man spanning the distance of years upon years of regretful love.
When their eyes met, the world took a breath.
It was like seeing light for the first time. You opened your eyes, that day.
âDo you know that man, Satoru?â you asked that night, twirling a strand of your hair through your fingers.
âI am⌠unsure, my lady.â His jaw ticked, a mere second in the time of his truth. âHe feels familiar. Who⌠who is he, to you?â
âWhy?â you mused. âAre you jealous?â
âHe expressed affections for you,â he muttered, crawling a little closer from where he was perched in front of you. âI⌠I did not like that.â
âWhat did you say to make such a quiet man mad?â You had witnessed the conversation, trueâbut your main intent was to hear it from his lips.
Satoru flushed. âI⌠called you mine, my lady.â
âIs that so?â You raised an eyebrow, feigning faint surprise.
âI assumed that since I am yours, you are also mine,â he explained quietly, lips ghosting just a breath from your skin. âI apologize, my lady.â
You stifled a laugh. âYou are too cute, Satoru.â
He let out an unsteady breath, finally allowing his lips to press soft, chaste kisses to the skin between your neck and shoulder. âAm I truly?â
âWhimpering like this for me, yes.â
âI would like to be cute for you.â
You pulled his face back up towards yours, pressing your lips to his, tasting blood where his tongue darted against yours.
âDoesnât your tongue hurt?â you asked, pausing to take a breath.
âYou could bite it off, and I would thank you,â he replied, hushed, nipping at your bottom lip.
His forehead was warm, flushed already as you pushed him away, refusing to relent just yet. âI see disciplining you is pointless.â
âIf this is my punishment for misbehaving,â he murmured into the shell of your ear, âthen I shudder to think of my reward if I was good for you.â
âWouldnât you like to find out?â
âThe government has decreed that you were absolutely debauched,â Suguru argued, spine straight as the slant of his brows pulled together. âWhy, after so long of being compliant?â
âMe? Compliant?â you scoffed. âYou truly never knew me, then.â
âWith them,â he corrected, slender fingers scrubbing down his face. âI trust you keep out of trouble, only to hear that you are massacring a village the moment I turn my back.â
âI did not ask for you to watch me,â you snapped. âYou are the one who arrived at my doorstep threatening to harm my advisorâs family if you were turned away.â
âThat man believes truly anything I say.â That smile that fluttered across his thin lips used to fool you into nodding along to whatever he said.
That was before that smile stole your first kiss. Your first time.
âPerhaps that isââ
âWait,â he cut in, narrowed eyes zeroing in on your skin, âyour throat. Did you truly manage to get hurt? Are those battle wounds?â
You pulled at the fabric, displaying the handiwork of Satoruâs desperation to prove that he was good last night blooming rosy and lush across your skin.
âIs that what they look like to you, Suguru?â
His lips pursed, earlier smile slipping from his grave expression. âDo not test me.â
âIt shouldnât bother you,â you continued, tugging the sleeve of your robe up, âespecially considering that you were the one to end things.â
âThat was becauseââ
âYes, we do have responsibilities,â you finished, âso I repeat, Suguru, why are you here?â
You would be lying if you said you didnât like the distress pressed into the corner of his mouth.
âThat manâŚâ he mumbled. âSomething feels strange about him.â
âThat would be jealousy, Suguru,â you chastised.
âNo.â Suguru swallowed, hard. Now thisâthis was new. âI fear I have seen him somewhere. I⌠I know him. In my soul.â
You blinked, then shrugged, like the very implication of his words hadnât sent shivers down your spine. This was going to be interesting.
The day of the hunt. The very day that you had made excuses to weasel out of, until the tension with Suguru mounted to a point where he refused to speak to you since that incident.
Which served as a problem, since your advisor was currently fumbling with the navigation. His brows pulled together, lips twitching as he mumbled something to himself, eyes darting around the trees crashing into one another.
Satoru walked alongside your horse, refusing one of his own. Your advisor would make a fuss if you dismounted, but he was busy with the maps.
You slipped off of the side of the steed, accepting Satoruâs hand as you hiked the fabric past your ankles.
âYou must save your energy, my lady,â Satoru began to fret.
âIf you will not ride, neither will I,â you replied simply.
After a few more minutes of wandering along the path, you pulled your advisor back by the ear and sent Satoru off into the forest to scout. That was primarily so you could threaten the manâs family in peace as he cowered under you without Satoru getting turned on in the middle of the forest.
And he would never admit it, for he would never complain to you, but he missed the fresh air. You could see it in the way his muscles, wound with tension, uncoiled like freed snakes. Satoru missed his home. He was the tigerâs son, after all.
The grass, moist under your fingers, twisted under your weight as you laid out on it, ignoring your advisorâs protests of ruining the silk. You were due for a new robeâwhy not enjoy your quiet respite in the forest?
The peace was quickly interrupted by the slick sheen of an arrow passing through a bowâa sound and technique pricking your ears from childhood. You sat up, peering in the direction the sound had come from.
Your sword glissanded from its holster with a sharp hiss, only to your ears as you crept up to the clearing. In the dizzying sunlight, you caught a writhing mass upon the ground.
You caught the distinctive white that came with its opposite black, the absence and presence of color entangled in the grass. Soft pants could be heard, and from this angle, you could not discern what they were doing.
You shifted to the side, curious.
Suguru was pinned to the ground, a feat you had never managed, as he always preferred to dodge your advances. But Satoruâs palms were planted on either sides of his head, threaded through the inky strands of his hair.
And yet the most surprising aspect of it were their eyes.
A galaxy spared between a blanket of sky captured in Satoruâs and the velvet whispers of Suguruâs, searing and dripping from their eyes, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet, fragile stars twinkling between their bodies.
Satoru panted, softly, sweat forming a slight sheen on his forehead.
Suguru reached out, up to the heavens to brush cloudy hair from starstruck eyes. His lips formed a silent question, mouthing, âWho are you?â
The sereneness was interrupted by a bird fluttering back to the sky, conveniently perched on the tree you were managing to lean against. Satoruâs head snapped in your direction as Suguru pushed him off, trying to manage a scowl and failing.
It should have been strange. You should have felt anger. Envy. Hatred.
But instead, heat was pooling between your thighs like it was the most natural thing on the earth. As if watching two men holding gazes and feeling something from it was completely normal.
You grinned, unfazed. âWell, donât cease this on my behalf.â
It seemed the two of them made a conscious effort to absolutely loathe one another the next few times you caught them spending time together.
Even when you watched from the shadows, their earlier affection was nowhere to be found. Only impertinence woven into their words.
Satoru stood a good distance from a wooden target, struggling to string the arrow. Suguru tapped an impatient beat on the ground, raising an eyebrow.
âIt seems you are just her pet, after all,â he sighed. âGood for nothing more.â
âAt least I am of some use to her,â Satoru shot back. âShe only tolerates you on the grounds that you refuse to leave the estate.â
âI thought all butchers were skilled with the bow and arrow?â Suguru jested.
The white-haired man ducked his head, glowering. âI was never given the chance to learn.â
Suguru simpered. âWho is useful, remind me?â
âDo you plan on teaching me or not?â he snapped.
You had never heard your beloved pet speak to anyone in such a manner. It was⌠enlightening, in a way. It bought you timeâtime to think of all the ways you could twist this into your hands.
Suguru still had not apologized. Perhaps it was time for him to receive all the agony he caused you over the years.
That evening, Satoru got on his knees. He leaned towards you, but you grasped his chin instead, forcing him to look up at you.
âYou understand, Satoru,â you said, âyou were supposed to take clients.â
His mood immediately soured. âMy ladyââ
âI refuse to hear it.â You blinked down at him. âYou are taking a client today.â
The sapphire of his eyes dimmed. âWill you watch?â
âYes. You will only ever take one client from now on. Suguru.â
An unnamed emotion flickered across his face, softening the frown puckering at his brows. His bottom lip quivered. âIâŚâ
âWhat?â
âI have neverâŚâ A rosy glow suffused his cheeks. âI have never done it with a man before. I am afraid, my lady.â
âIt did not seem like you were afraid of him this morning,â you drawled, pressing the heels of your feet together.
âYou⌠you witnessed that?â If it were possible, he flushed a deeper shade of crimson.
âIt was hard not to. The two of you flock attention like moths to a flame.â
If they were anything like they were in the sparse moments you had caught them alone together, away from the eyes of the world, they would be fine. Satoru did not argue. Then again, when had he ever argued against anything you said?
Suguru arrived a short moment following your heavy silence. The door slid openâwhat a heathen, refusing to knock or announce his presence.
âYou called for me, my lady?â No use with the title after his impudence. You couldnât help but smile at the thought of him receiving all his dues upon this one fateful night, and he was completely, blissfully unaware.
âPlease sit, my fiduciary advisor,â you mocked. âAlthough, I do wonder why you must house yourself in my estates to take this title.â
âIf I did not take residence here, just about any other could claim me as their advisor.â
âPerhaps I would like you to be claimed by another,â you teased.
His eyes met Satoruâs, first, before they sliced back to you.
âPardon?â he asked, swiping a hand over the back of his neck.
You rested your cheek on your open palm. âThis is not a request. Itâs a performance. I shall take audience. Unlike our last untimely meeting, make this worth my time, Suguru.â
You had expected a shameful flush, stammering and attempting to rectify the situation.
Instead, Suguru tipped his head. âI see.â
âYou seem unsurprised.â
âPerhaps I had wondered when this day would come.â
Now it was your turn to raise a brow. âTruly?â
He chuckled, low in his throat. âTruly. I just did not expect to be handed the script.â
Satoru remained quiet through the exchange, jaw working, something like respite in his eyes as Suguru met them once more, gentler.
You reclined into a room humming with unspoken tension.
They held their gazes for a moment that brimmed with much that you couldnât catch between the passing of their eyes before Suguruâs hands were reaching for his neck and their lips pressed together furiously.
And it felt⌠even better than it should have. Better than that day in the forest. Better than the thoughts of watching this, because it was truly happening in front of you.
Satoruâs fingers were already tangled in Suguruâs hair, tugging just enough to make him smirk against his mouth. Their kiss was slow, deliberateâheat and hunger and the best of the two men. Suguruâs hand slid beneath Satoruâs shirt, knuckles grazing skin you knew stretched vast distances, and Satoru shivered, eyes never leaving you.
Breath caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat, you watched as Satoru broke the kiss first, lips slick, eyes dark. He turned his head just slightly, enough to meet your gaze.
âYou are truly watching,â he murmured.
Suguru laughed. âDid she not say that?â he asked, thumb brushing against Satoruâs jaw. âThat is the point. You do not wish to disappoint your lady, do you?â
And yet for all his talk, it was Satoruâs hand that dipped lower, teasing the knot of the other manâs pants, hips shifting in response. The same slender fingers that pulled at said knot, unfurling silk against thighs that flexed as Suguru pressed his palms against his chest.
Suguruâs cock pressed against his thigh, rigid against Satoruâs hesitating fingers. He swallowed, throat bobbing, but Suguru just caressed his cheek and guided him downwards, to where the apex of his thighs met in a slice you could not see.
Much like how they sunk into your wet heat, Satoru drew his tongue over his trembling fingers and pushed the first two inside him easily, eyes tracing over the sly smirk curving Suguruâs lips.
âYou were speaking so highly before,â he whispered, his own voice quiet enough for the pin-straight eeriness of night to seep through, âand yet you cannot manage a single word now, can you?â
Satoru swallowed, dazed, entranced on the steady descent of his fingers. âM-My lordââ
âAh, so itâs my lord, now,â Suguru continued, trailing a finger down the quivering jawline of the man hovering over him. âDo you see this, my lady? It seems I have tamed the tiger.â
âNot quite,â you replied, shifting Satoruâs attention through half-lidded eyes still glued to the sight.
"You are beautiful for a man,â Suguru mused, drawing splintered cerulean eyes back to him, âwhen you are like this, especially. You can give me another, can you not?"
Another finger joined the first two, and yet Suguru seemed unbothered. It was Satoru hissing lowly at the contact, teeth bared, heat and urgency and the soft rhythm of his fingers stretching the other man open.
âDo I feel like her?â he asked, breath hitched, spine arching as Satoruâs fingers worked deeper, precise in his torturous cruelty. âLike your lady?â
â⌠N-No, my lord,â Satoru replied lowly, âyou⌠you are another thing entirely.â
And you found yourself liking it. No â loving it.
The way their eyes kept flicking to you like you were the center of gravity in the room. Their beings, their softness, their warmth. It all belonged to you. Every gasp, every thrust, every broken sound.
You need not touch them. No words fell from your lips. Simply your being thereâwatching, owningâwas enough to satisfy the heat blooming across your chest.
And for a moment, you were content to keep it that way.
Yet something darted across your tongue.
âCome here,â you said, soft.
Satoru paused in unraveling the knot of his own pants, their eyes snapping to you in tandem. Only but a few feet away and yet they crossed the distance before you could blink. The planes of existence tilted and crashed into one true universe buzzing at your fingertips.
You smiled. âDid I tell you to stop?â
They exchanged glances.
âBut my ladyââ
âThe proximityââ
âHush,â you silenced them. âI believe I was quite clear with my wishes.â
They stilled, just for a moment. The quiet stretched, thick and electric.
Then they moved again, the skill of a lifetime in loversâ intentional movements, touching like they had been starved for it.
Satoru had never done this before. It would have been wrong for you to strip that away from him. But thisâthis felt natural, like the glide of lily pads atop a still lake. Their touches were innate and native to their fingers.
The need for this felt stronger than the need for either one of them, separate. One entity, much like the whole, was more than the sum of its parts.
Satoruâs pants hit the floor, fingers blending against Suguruâs hips. His cock jerked at the other manâs back, beading with dripping pearls, prodding at the rim. No fear shone in his eyes, no reflections of the nights he spent with himself between your thighs.
Only pent up frustration relieved into a single, soft sigh as he lined up and pushed in with a low, guttural sound that dissolved into the walls.
A sharp exhale left Suguruâs lips, parted with his head thrown back, fingers clawing at the ground. But even thenâeven with their bodies meeting at a crux nowhere near youâtheir eyes met yours.
Satoru whimpered, a sound so raw it barely sounded human. Every roll of his hips sent sounds spilling from his mouth. Not quite words anymore, just broken, breathless whines.
âPlease,â he gasped, voice wrecked, âdo not stop. Donâtâmy lord, please.â
âI have no intentions of stopping,â Suguru said casually, as if Satoruâs fingers werenât tightening into furious red crescents on his pale skin.
The cloudless sky of his eyes squeezed shut, ending entire worlds with the tick of his jaw. Unsteady breaths forced his chest to rise and fall, shallow against Suguruâs back.
He arched, letting Satoruâs cock plunge deep, unhurried inside him, composed of fluttering eyelashes and low moans, brushing stray locks of snowy hair from his eyes. Locked onto your intent gaze, then one another, swimming in the deepest love with every moment that passed.
âI'm so close...â Satoru whined after a few more intentional draws of his cock inside, âyou will break meâI can't take... take itâ"
âIt seems you are still able to speak properly,â Suguru cooed, âso I understand that you can take it."
âOhhh, my lord, mmphâI cannot," Satoru gasped as Suguru's legs locked around his hips, lithe muscles twitching, "I⌠I will⌠ohhh, I will cumâ"
âWhat a messy mouth on you, Satoru,â he mused.
Satoru absentmindedly brought the broad side of his arm to swipe at his mouth, wiping his glistening lips.
âI-Is this⌠betterâhahâmy lord?â
You enjoyed it more than if he was directly touching you. It was something of the way he unraveled under Suguruâs touch, something completely misunderstood. You merely felt the connection, especially when the man reached up to cradle your face.
You tilted your head as he pressed his lips against yours, a low groan splitting the silence even as Satoru steadily increased the pace of his hips. A keening whimper tore from his throat at the sight of your fingers brushing Suguruâs hair behind his ear.
âDo you like this, Satoru?â you mused, glancing up at him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, face flushed a shameful hue. âDo you enjoy watching me kiss him?â
âN-Noââ
âWhat did I say about lying?â
â⌠Yes, my lady.â The moment it left his lips, he seemed infinitely lighter, leaning forward to press his clothed chest against Suguruâs back. âI-I like itâohâI truly do.â
Suguru inclined his head back, letting Satoru meet his lips urgently, as if he was able to taste you on his lips. Ivory on pearls looked quite nice, you thought.
Your fingers danced down Suguruâs side, lips quirked as they curled around his leaking cock. He blinked up at you, reverent, eyes blown in a silent questionâis this truly happening?
There was no need for you to answer aloud. Just the action of pulling him back in, other hand prying at Satoruâs lips, tongue inviting and warm around your fingers, was enough to convince him to flutter his eyes shut.
âM-My lord,â Satoru mumbled around your fingers, tongue lapping at the taste like there was ever one, âmay I please? I-Inside?â
âWhatever theânghâlady wishes,â he managed between your chaste kisses.
âIâI canât,â Satoru gasped, burying his face in the curve of Suguruâs neck. âIâm closeâmy lady, pleaseâŚâ
âOnly my good boys get to finish,â you said. âAre you good, Satoru?â
He nodded frantically, eyes glassy, lips bitten raw. âYes, my lady. Iâm yours.â
âAnd you, Suguru?â
His voice was a rasp, broken and nearly as gone as his eyes. âAlways.â
âThen show me,â you whispered, nodding to the white-haired menace gripping at Suguruâs curved back, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he pounded further, deeper.
Satoruâs cry was muffled against Suguruâs skin as he came, trembling, undone. Suguru followed moments later, his body shuddering, coating your fingers in webs of white that matches the strands of hair plastered to Satoruâs neck.
You reached up, brushing a strand of damp hair out of his quivering eyes, fearful as he retracted, cock hanging low and throbbing to the pulse of his heart.
But Satoru didnât stop there, eyes flitting low, to the pearly mess smearing from between Suguruâs thighs. The other man caught his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips.
âLook, youâve made a mess,â he crooned. âClean it up, will you?â
Satoru lowered his head, as if trying to mask the heat of excitement behind false shame as he grasped Suguruâs skin, parting to lick a long stripe over the stream of slick pooling at his entrance.
âGod, youâre filthy,â you chuckled, even as his eyes flashed with something vague and completely unwavering, tongue feverishly dipping between strands of white, his own cum coating his lips.
âApologies, my lady, my lord,â he hummed against Suguruâs inner thigh, tongue darting back to lap at the remaining cream oozing from pale skin. âI didnât intend to make a mess.â
âI thinkâŚâ Suguru exhaled. âI think you have done enough. I am tired.â
âOh? You have tired the great Suguru Geto?â you mused. âWell done, Satoru.â
Satoru whimpered at the praise, eyes fluttering shut. âThank you, my lady.â
Suguruâs jaw ticked, eyes narrowed, yet not in simple feigned annoyance.
âYouâre jealous,â you said, not bothering to look back at him.
âIâm insulted,â he corrected, âfor you watched me fall apart and instead offer him comfort.â
You tilted your head. âWould you like comfort, Suguru?â
He did not answer right away. But his eyesâthose eyesâburned.
âWe did not⌠lay our hands upon you,â he said finally.
âOnly my good boys get to touch me,â you answered softly.
Satoru stirred, lifting his head from your lap. âAm I good, my lady?â
You smiled down at him. âYes.â
Suguruâs voice followed you out of your trance. âAnd me?â
You didnât look up. âYouâll have to earn it.â
It became a regular occurrence after that night.
Every so often, you would look up from the reports and see Suguruâs expression softening into a smile. And every time you turned your head, you would see Satoru gazing at the two of you fussing over fiduciary issues.
Even if he was completely oblivious to the tension, you soon found out he did not tolerate the slightest sliver of hate for either of you. It should have come as an unwelcome surprise, but you were not completely cruel.
So instead, you pressed a finger to his protesting lips to silence him as Satoru mingled near a few of your advisorâs menâthey always spoke too loud. Words that would most likely fall on deaf ears, as you could not be bothered to occupy yourself with reprimanding them.
Satoru had no such qualms.
Suguru was only here to hear what they spoke of him, after all.
âLord Geto has no business lingering here for the time he has,â one of them blurted out. âDoes he have nothing to spend his days doing? Of all the estates to pickâŚâ
âHe has grown close to the lady and her⌠butcher,â someone said cautiously. âI am beginning to think her taste in men is⌠quite strange.â
âPerhaps she has finally snapped,â the first one reasoned. âIt would explainââ
The man never finished his sentence. He was on the ground, pleading for mercy under Satoruâs foot before he could even think to complete the thought.
âI can hear you whispering under your breath,â he warned, resting his hand atop the leg pressed against the manâs back. âI have very good hearing, you see? Be careful what you sayâa slave mustnât curse his master, after all.â
He moved his foot. Suguru shifted under the tree, his body brushing against yours as he leaned forward to get a closer look.
âDonât you see?â the man choked out after a cough, âsheâs replacing you as her petââ
This time, Satoru had no reason to pin him down with his foot. There was a dagger singing through the air to do that for him, forcing the cowering man back onto the ground.
For a moment, you thought he would truly stab him. It would have been an absolute hassle to handleâyour advisor would have been furious.
But instead, he stilled, the blade brushing against the manâs neck.
âI once killed a man, for my lady,â Satoru whispered, almost too quiet for the two of you to hear. âI would do it for my lord, as well. They would be angered, but only if they come to hear of it. It causes me to wonder what it would take for a loud man such as you to die quietly.â
Satoru backed away. Evidently, his message was pressed in the worried lines of all the other men bowing their heads before scurrying away.
Suguruâs lips parted as Satoru caught your gaze, immediately perking up and crossing the distance of the field to approach.
âI apologize for having not noticed you, my lady, my lord,â he said, dipping his head in cadence. âI would have conducted myself better if I had knownââ
âForgive that, I quite dislike that man,â you replied, resting your head against his chest. âYou should have ended his life.â
âShall I finish the job?â he asked, craning his neck to scan the field. âI am sureââ
âNo, no,â you muttered. âToo late now. And my advisor would have my head.â
âYou would have his head before that,â Suguru pointed out.
âOh, hush,â you snapped. âWho asked you?â
âSuguru, do you not have something to say to the lady?â
âAh.â You had never seen him so⌠unsettled in all your life. If anything, Suguru Geto was a composed man of his fraying morals and questionable sanity. âIndeed.â
âWell?â You raised an eyebrow after a moment of earth-shattering silence.
âI⌠I was wrong.â
Just the admission sent your heart fluttering. You stood straight off of Satoruâs chest, turning to regard him with your full attention.
âOur⌠my responsibilities should not have been an excuse to stop loving you.â Regret pooled in the heavy shards of amethyst that met yours. âI mourned the loss nearly every day. I am sorry.â
âHow long have I waited to hear those words?â you asked aloud, tapping a finger to your chin. âPerhaps I should make you wait nearly as long as I did.â
âYour sword would be more a merciful death,â he drawled.
âYou are forgiven,â you mused, âyet the question lingersâwhy not return? Why say this now, after so many years?â
âIt was you,â he replied, but he was no longer speaking to you. Instead, his eyes were fixed to the man standing behind you, always a distance spanning someone elseâs body. And yet this time, you found yourself not minding. âYou are familiar to me. You make me do things that I would have never dreamt of otherwise.â
âI told you she would not be angered,â Satoru said haughtily, lifting his chin.
âAh, so you were conspiring behind my back.â You shook your head. âI should have both of your heads for that. My punishment shall be swift and merciless.â
âYou will enjoy her punishments, my lord,â he added.
âIs that so?â Suguru took a step forward.
For a moment, the delusive prospect of a promised future sept into your soul. And in a twin breath and shared grins, they melted away all your doubt.
The sun had fallen from its perch in the sky long before you had started. Tipping back another drink, the haze in your eyes did nothing to cover the concern in the two mensâ eyes.
âMy lady, perhaps you should stop here,â Suguru suggested.
âI do not understand.â Satoru frowned. âWhat is happening?â
âSheâs drinkingâŚ?â Suguru blinked. âHave you never drank a sip of wine in your life?â
âThat simply canât be!â you giggled and handed the bottle of rice wine over to him with shaking hands. He accepted it, of course he did, but with wary eyes.
âWhat has it done to you?â he whispered.
âThe lady cannot handle her alcohol very well,â Suguru replied.
âThe lady most definitely can!â you snapped. âThe lord happens to be a lightweight.â
âLightweight?â Suguru pursed his lips and snatched the bottle away from Satoru, pouring himself a drink with much steadier hands. It disappeared with the bobbing of his throat and the admission of your lieâSuguru had always handled it better than you had.
Even now, the light of his irises only shimmered as twin drops of lavender in the reflection of Satoruâs wistful eyes.
âNow you,â you commanded, edging the bottle back along to him.
Satoru swallowed. âMust I?â
âYour lady demands it,â Suguru teased.
You did not expect him to grasp the bottle so tightly, nor wrap his lips around the edge and start downing it in one sitting. Yet neither of you could find it in you to stop, only collapse into one another in laughter.
When there were only crimson speckles at the bottom, Satoru pulled away with a gasp, blinking, bleary-eyed. The bottle thudded against the ground as he regarded the two of you.
âThat was vile,â he said suddenly. âHow can you stand that?â
âI happen to prefer red wine over all other drinks,â you said sweetly. âFather used to say it was the mark of a true noble.â
âI would prefer to be a butcher if it meant staying away from thatâŚâ Satoru shuddered.
âPerhaps we have found the true lightweight of us three,â Suguru mused.
Five drinks later, and clothes had been discarded all along the floors. The house slumbered with the sereneness of tension uncoiled, and yet tension was all that was lingering in the air between the three of you.
âLet me give⌠give you a child, my lord,â Satoru whispered suddenly, âplease.â
âAre⌠are you speaking to me?â Suguru glanced over his shoulder, where the other man was staring down at him with half-lidded, unrecognizable eyes. âSatoru?â
âYes,â he answered, far too quick, words slurred. âPlease. Will you allow it?â
âI cannotâŚâ Suguruâs voice cracked into a laugh. âThis cannot be happening.â
âAre you denying me, my lord?â
âHow would that would work?â It seemed Suguru was open to entertaining the idea, even as his lips quirked in your direction.
Satoruâs hands found their home on the crest of the man underneath him, the swell of his hips. âA child. Right here. I never miss my target.â
âThat wasnât what it looked like with archery,â you teased from your perch, nursing yet another bottle of wine.
Satoruâs eyes shot to yours. âThen, will you, my lady?â
âWhat?â
He had never approached you, during this. Always a respective distance, spanning Suguruâs body, and you were content with it that way. Perhaps you enjoyed it more.
But it would never hurt to find out. Especially when Suguru crept behind you to cage your body in his own, fingers running over your pebbling nipples, and Satoru crowded between your thighs with a gaze of a man that was dangerously ruined.
âLet me give you a child, my lady,â he repeated against the plush skin of your thigh, âplease.â
âOr would you like me to do the same?â Suguruâs lips ghosted your neck. âMy lady.â
âIs that a challenge?â Satoru lifted his head from where it was inching to the apex of your thighs.
âWhy not?â Suguru rested his chin on your shoulder, locking eyes with him.
Perhaps you should have stopped them there. It was never a competition between the two of themâor at least, it was never meant to be. Yet you were too far to be saved.
Satoruâs tongue lapped at your folds, dragging it, measured before pressing against your clit. If not for Suguruâs gentle hands cupping his head, your thighs would have closed in him.
Suguruâs own lips left searing bruises blooming over your skin, over the old ones Satoru gave you before. His hands occasionally drifted past the space to roll the peaks of your nipples between his thumbs, his other fingers tracing the prominence of your collarbone.
He brushed against the scar painting a thin rivulet across your neck.
âYou are safe,â he whispered at your immediate tensing, âfor we will keep you safe.â
âIs this good, my lady?â Satoru panted from between your thighs, hips rocking against solid ground as you nodded down at him, relaxing. His whimper broke off as he lowered his head, tugging the flat of his pink tongue up your drooling cunt until it kissed your twitching clit.
Your lips parted in a moan as you pulsed around his tongue, arousal laving against his face, nearly drowning out Satoruâs whines. The silence stood loud around his soft pants.
âWell?â Suguru asked, breaking the quiet. âDo you plan on standing there forever?â
Satoru blinked, jerking out of a trance fixated on the slick dripping from your pussy. âNo, my lord.â
This time, there was no fear in his eyes as he held your hips with a reverence that could only be exemplified by the push of his tip against your wetness. His eyes darted from where he was disappearing inside you, to your eyes, to Suguruâs lips against your neck, as if he could not pick a single spot to fixate on.
Satoru leaned forward. âMy lady? Are you okay?â
âIâm fine,â you managed, nodding, âkeep going.â
Suguru parted your thighs with one hand and a slight burn that coiled in your stomach, as his other hand gripped Satoruâs chin and pulled his gaze down.
âEyes down here,â he mused. âWatch what you are doing to your beloved master.â
Satoru set a steady, almost maddeningly sedate pace, his hips rolling in a deep, grinding rhythm that had your back arching over Suguruâs chest. He kept his eyes locked, electric, on the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, trying to draw him in deeper.
âMy ladyââ he cried softly, as you took him in even deeper, by some magical means.
"You are so good to me," you whispered, leaning into to brush your lips against the shell of his red-hot ear. "So patient and gentle. You can cum inside, if youâd like.â
âGive her a child, Satoru. Mhm, youâd like that, wouldnât you?â Suguru continued, threading his fingers in damp strands of milky-white.
Satoruâs eyes widened and his hips stuttered from where they were pressing against yours, losing his rhythm as his orgasm suddenly crashed over him, forcing him to bury his face into the crook of your neck.
"Oh, thank youâgodâthank you s-so much, my lady," he whimpered, his cock throbbing hard inside you, twitching as it shot thick ropes of hot cum inside you.
Suguru curled his fingers around Satoruâs chin, tilting his face to press their lips together insistently.
âBut a shame.â He smiled, pulling away. âI hate losing.â
Before the world could right itself and you could recover from the stars sprinkled across your vision, Satoru was tossed behind you, hands wandering. Suguru was pressed between your quivering thighs like he had always belonged there. Greedy fingers pried at the gaping hole of your pussy, streams of pearly white dripping down your folds.
âYou smell so sweet,â he groaned against you, breath heady. âI am not a wasteful man, my lady, do not fret. I shall swallow every last drop of this creamy load before giving you my own.â
His tongue curved, lapping at the mess, swirling yours and Satoruâs cum into his mouth and swallowing without hesitation.
With a final, long lick that had you shuddering, Suguru pulled back, lips glistening with a wicked grin. He paused just long enough to settle between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.
"Let us make good on the past, hm?â he asked softly before he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. Unlike Satoru, he gave you no time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal, punishing pace, hips slapping against yours.
When you tilted your head back, you expected Satoruâs face to be alight with horror. But instead, the back of his hand was pressed against his mouth as if to mask his expression, heady eyes lidded, skin flushed as his chest rose and fell against your back.
Amidst it, Suguru leaned down to kiss Satoru over your shoulder, brushing ivory hair behind his ear. âWhatâs wrong, Satoru? Do you like this?â
The other man shook his head frantically, but he didnât need to offer a lie. His cock was already hardening, proving his pitiful attempt futile, twitching against your back. Suguru turned his velvety gaze back to you, the arch of his back hitting spots inside you that sparked flames behind your eyes.
âSurely mine will take,â he mused, lips hovering mere inches from yours, âas you seem inclined to milk me dry, my lady.â
You let your head rest on Satoruâs shoulder, forcing steady breaths through your lungs. Suguruâs hands slid down to grip your thighs, fingers neatly sinking into the soft flesh as he pulled your legs up and over his shoulders.
The new angle allowed him to drive into you even deeper, the head of his cock now pecking at your womb with every thrust, hot silk wrapped around his aching cock.
âSuguruââ you moaned, wanton against his soft groans.
âCome now, my lady,â Suguru purred, âyou need only give the word.â
âPlease.â Your fingers reached up, scrambling for purchase on the smooth planes of his skin. âJustâoh, godâdo not make me ask twice.â
âI would not dream of it,â he chuckled, resting a flat palm over where the outline of his cock pressed against your stomach, eyes flitting back up to cerulean blown out in awe. âAfter all, the lady always gets what she wants. Isnât that right, Satoru?â
âY-Yes, my lord,â he replied quietly, swallowing thickly.
The rhythm of his hips refused to cease as he drove himself into you, chasing his own release as your walls fluttered around his cock. Your nails scratched down his back, nearly drawing blood as he buried himself into your wetness fully.
With a breathy moan escaping his lips, scalding ropes of thick, potent cum painted the inside your spasming cunt. Suguruâs hips made small, gentle circles, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside you, peppering your face with soft, sweet kisses.
âI could stay like this forever, inside you,â he whispered, âyou feel too good to leave.â
Suguru tilted his head past your ear, pressing his lips to Satoruâs in a deep, lazy kiss, groaning lowly at the contact. His cock slid against your back, slick with precum, a whimper slipping past their entangled tongues.
"Mmm, kiss him like that," you moaned softly, âshow him what that filthy mouth can do besides talking.â
Suguru scoffed against his lips, but Satoru was too far gone. Eyes glassy, hips rocking faster against your soft skin, grinding with his palms planted on the ground.
âYou f-feel sooo goodâoh god, mmphâp-please, I n-need to cum s-so badly,â Satoru begged, whining at the contact as you met his thrusts, his leaking cock twitching against your back.
âAlready?â Suguru smirked. âItâs only been⌠five minutes, Satoru.â
âMy lord, I can't... I c-can'tâhahââ Satoru choked, his voice breaking on a strangled sob. His chest rapidly rose and fell with the crest of his shallow breaths as his milky strands of his seed painted your skin, coating your lower back and the curve of your ass in a sticky, pearlescent glaze.
As the last weak spurts of his release dribbled down your back, Satoru leaned forward, resting his head on the arc of your shoulders as Suguru murmured soft nothings in his ear.
âSo you have won,â he admitted, lowering his eyes. âMy lady⌠she will carry your child now?â
Under the assumption that he had done absolutely nothing to stop it but watch, you pressed his fingers to your lips, quirked in a smile.
âAh, so you have not yet told him,â Suguru said, eyes alight.
âTold⌠what, my lord?â
âI cannot conceive an heir, Satoru,â you replied. âHave you never wondered why the people of the estate speak so low of me?â
Satoru blinked. âYou⌠cannot?â
Suguru laughed. âEnlightened, you say?â
You swatted at his arm. âIâd like to see you admit something, then.â
There was a brief pause as you watched the slant of his jaw work, the light behind his eyes flickering in thought.
"We could stay lost in you,â he said suddenly, louder against your challenge, almost like a declaration for the waiting world, âdrowning in your touch, your scent, your taste. Admission enough for you, my lady?â
âYou speak as if we will die soon,â you mused, shaking your head and resting your palms on his chest.
âOne day⌠I would like to make love to you, my lady, with the lord,â Satoru said tentatively, nearly shamelessly save for the crimson flush of his cheeks, his fingers trailing the bridge of your arms up to Suguruâs broad shoulders. âProperly, with the two of us inside you.â
âWhat a dirty fantasy,â you replied, leaning back to accept a kiss from his reverent lips. âPerhaps tomorrow. Tonight, we rest.â
âWe?â Suguru echoed.
âWhere else would you sleep?â You smiled. âAway from me?â
Somehow, Satoru had heard your mumbling of night chills and Suguruâs agreement. He then proceeded to refuse to let you rest without dressing the two of you properly.
So with silk robes sliding against blooming skin, Suguru perched himself behind you, letting your head rest against his chest while Satoru sprawled out with his head in your lap, fingers curling at the plush of your thigh.
That was how your advisor found the three of you the next morning, sun peeking through the shifting door. He blinked, then slid the door closed, telling the maids not to disturb the lady as she slept peacefully for the first time in months.
While you dreamt, it was more so simply thinking.
You saw yourself in the two of them. Time aged you. Or experience. The case stilled to a single reflection upon dappled water, in which you gazed into azure and mauve eyes. Yet one thing remained constant in all the universes flashing before your eyes.
When Suguru found you, you acted a lot like Satoru.
And when Satoru found you, you acted a lot like Suguru.
You recognized that much, and came to think that they saw their past love, in you, and this was merely a resurrection of a presence strong enough to transcend entire lifetimes. Perhaps it was misguided and misplaced, in the image of a past love.
And perhaps you should have stopped, there, with the false realization that they did not love you. But you knew, even somewhere in that soul that rested beneath you, that it was untrue. Somewhere along their journey, they met you separately, and fell in love with you separately.
Only with your intervention had they rediscovered their love for one another.
So, truly, it was all thanks to you. You woke to the notion that this love was reignited, a spark amidst a never ending flame, by your gentle hand. Everything shifted with something worth holding ontoâthe soft certainty that some flames never truly died.
And you would tend to the fire long before you would let it go out.
They spoke, of course they did. The nation did nothing, if not speak. But they could not lay a finger on your pets. In the end, they belonged to you.
Satoru on your right, always, his pearly hair tangled in your fingers with those electric eyes serene. Suguru on your left, always, ivory hair cascading down his back as he sat with his cheek in his palm and legs spread in a manner that was most definitely uncouth.
You never said a word.
After all, they would be perched at your side until the end of time.
And nobody dared to touch that which was yours.
a/n: woah, you made it all the way to the bottom! here, have a glass of wineđˇ<33 hopefully you enjoyed! i loved writing this one <- probably my fav out of my three kinktober fics! likes and comments always appreciated! love ya <3
Hey does anyone rmr these satosugu x reader fics where the reader and Satoru chained Suguru up to a bed to smack his ass as a prank, or one where the reader and Suguru had to be outside on the balcony bc Satoru couldn't stop farting?? đAnd they treated getting through the front door around Satoru was like Mission impossible đđđ
I also think the author had a series about a reader from our world that's suddenly transported into JJK and is married to satosugu
I swear the username had something to do with cigarettes or smth
Here's a concept idea since DC CAN'T HIRE GOOD RED HOOD WRITERSđ: Academic weapon by day, vigilante by night
Jason goes back to school after his failed crime lord era. Walk with me here. Bruce offers Jason a chance at getting his GED and pursing Gotham U afterwards bc he just wants his son to thrive after everything.
Jason feels hesitant to accept it bc he feels like he doesn't deserve it, that he's not that same boy who wanted to major in English Lit. Bruce then tells him that the offer still stands whenever he is ready to take it.
We see Jason working on himself and his mental state by going to therapy. Having tea with Alfred and catching up. Balancing school work while also patrolling at night and it cuts to a parallel of when he was Robin and struggling with that.
But afterwards when he feels ready and gets his GED online, he tells Bruce that he doesn't want him to pull favours for Jason to get into Gotham U. That Jason wants to earn that himself.
Idk where I'm going with this but I just want to see this man written well FOR THE OF GOD PLEASE.