B O U N D
Summary:
In the Jujutsu Empire, it is considered taboo among the upper class to indulge in something so animal as seeking out one's soulmate.
You, the third daughter of a grand duke and the bearer of a secret soulmark, have your life suddenly uprooted in order to become the bride of the crown prince, Satoru Gojo, a notorious bachelor who couldn't care less about getting married after it was long ago guaranteed his soulmate would never be an option.
wc: 7.4k, Chapter 3 of 6
previous masterlist
general cw for this fic: angst (happy ending), hurt/comfort, arranged marriage, child abuse, yandere, dacryphilia, breeding kink, lactation kink, not abo but i am stealing some themes, possessive behavior, voyeurism, praise kink (but he's kinda mean about it), bondage, dubious consent
this one gets a lil freaky ૮`⎚⩊⎚´ა
minors do not interact
DESIRE LINES
Trapped in that room, a yearning neither understand.
Even though it felt as if your disastrous wedding night would never end, day still eventually broke. You slipped out of Satoru's bed the very moment you saw sunlight, padding over to the grand doors as quietly as possible. Despite your desire to escape without incident, you chanced a quick glance over your shoulder.
The view was devastating. Your husband hadn't moved a muscle. He was painted in the gentle morning light, a work of art in his own right. His tunic had been shed at some point during the night, the twisted duvet revealing some of his nude body. Satoru was a beautiful man, and truthfully it hurt your feelings a little to be scorned by him. While you didn't think of yourself as excessively vain, you still cared as much as any person about how attractive others perceived you to be. Your husband had not necessarily called you ugly outright, but it was still apparent that he didn't find you alluring.
All things considered, a damaged ego was a relatively small price to pay. Glancing toward the ceiling, you spotted the lovebirds perched over the doors. They were snuggled up close together, safe and sound.
Breathing a small sigh of relief, you opened the door to Satoru's chambers, and nearly undid all your efforts at making a stealthy exit by running square into Yuta and Megumi. You might have expected that there would be guards posted outside the room, but seeing such familiar faces instantly left you feeling embarrassed.
The two young knights took your sudden appearance in stride.
"My lady." Yuta said, bowing his head. "You're up early this morning."
There was a brief flash of emotion in his tired eyes as he took you in, an expression caught somewhere between pity and concern.
You willed your own face to remain neutral.
"Yes." You nodded. "I thought it might be nice to get an early start today."
"Ah—shall I see if Nobara is available to accompany you?" Yuta asked.
"That won't be necessary." You said with a tight smile. "I plan to study in my room this morning."
"I see." Yuta said, returning your smile. "Then Megumi can escort you back—"
"That's hardly necessary." You asserted. "I know the way from here."
Yuta and Megumi exchanged a look.
"…as you wish, my lady." Yuta acquiesced. "Please let us know if you need anything."
You didn't bother answering, turning away quickly so that neither of the knights could see your rapidly crumbling facade of composure.
The very last thing you wanted was for other people to recognize what you were going through and then feel something about it. The woman that you were now was a far cry from the woman you had been when you arrived at the palace. Where she would have done anything to have someone to lean on, you would rather suffer the embarrassment of what you were dealing with alone.
What right did any of them have to feel something about your suffering? Nothing could be done about what was happening to you, and it's not as if anyone would have stepped in anyway.
You were about halfway back to your quarters when you noticed you were being followed.
It was one of Megumi's rabbits. Completely harmless, but clearly deployed to keep an eye on you. You supposed you should feel grateful that you were still considered valuable enough to warrant surveillance.
You practically slammed the door to your room shut behind you, looking pointedly at the bunny that was poised to scamper inside. You caught it stomping its little, fluffy foot just before the door closed, its nose twitching in irritation.
Back against the door, you slid down to sit on the floor, hugging your knees as you finally felt safe to release the glamour you had been maintaining since yesterday morning.
While it might have been nice to cry and let some of your feelings out, you found that you didn't really have the energy. Yesterday had been exhausting, and the dramatic turn of events in Satoru's chambers had left you emotionally drained.
At least the most difficult part was done. You had survived your wedding and made it through your first night with your husband. Now, you just needed to avoid him continuously. It probably wouldn't be hard, especially considering Satoru had been making a similar effort ever since you arrived. With any luck, he would neglect you entirely.
If you really thought about it, this was the most desirable outcome for you in your arranged marriage. It was almost like being a forgotten concubine. No real responsibilities, no unwanted husband to pester you every night, no need to garner unattainable favor.
You smiled to yourself, thinking about how easy it would be to focus on your sorcery. The garden had plenty of resources, and you had heard that there was a greenhouse somewhere nearby as well.
That was probably where Satoru got the asphodel.
The memory of him burning those flowers for his mysterious, preferred partner replayed in your mind. You weren't jealous, though it was impossible to not feel a little envious. It made your soulmark ache, the thought of your own soulmate yearning for you making you a little melancholy.
Before the start of your tragic arranged marriage, you had only imagined your soulmate through the lens of one day meeting with them and living happily ever after. Now that it was an impossibility, you truly understood Satoru's act of mourning.
Even though you disliked the man, it still made a part of you want to comfort him. You weren't foolish enough to believe it would be a good idea to reveal just how much you understood what he was going through, not that doing so was possible in the first place.
After feeling sorry for yourself for a little while, you eventually managed to pull yourself to your feet.
It seemed like the staff had gotten the message that you wanted to be alone, something for which you were unreasonably thankful.
Finally taking the necklace your father had gifted you off, you felt like the weight of the previous day left you with it. You drew your own bath for the first time in what felt like forever, soaking in the enormous tub in an attempt to wash away the bad feelings still clinging to your skin. It was nice to not have anyone pulling you this way and that. You were fairly certain you wouldn't have been able to handle it after yesterday.
Nobara did come to your door to call you for breakfast, but you elected to skip it, claiming to be too sore and tired to leave your bed.
The day passed by quickly. You spent most of it reading over a new text you had brought with you on the use of common herbs in basic potions, annotating as you went so that you could utilize the information more easily later when you tried to put it into practice. Most of what you learned wasn't new to you, but it was always good to get a different sorcerer's perspective for methods on how potions should be brewed.
You were so invested in the uninterrupted study session that you didn't even realize the sun had set.
A sharp knock on your door pulled your nose from your book.
"My lady?" Nobara called.
Deciding it would be best to not cause them believe you were deliberately hiding yourself away, you made your way to the door, nearly forgetting to reinstate your glamour before opening it. You didn't miss the way Nobara's good eye quickly looked you over before she spoke.
"Your evening meal is ready." She explained.
"I'm not hungry." You replied.
Nobara's brow quirked in irritation. You had noticed that she had a temper, one that probably would have made her unfit to serve as any other noble woman's lady in waiting. To you, however, it was refreshing. It was nice to be around someone who wasn't constantly posturing, or at least someone who wasn't always succeeding at it.
"That may very well be true, my lady." Nobara sighed. "But his highness insists."
It shouldn't have shocked you to hear that as much as it did. It only made sense; Satoru couldn't have you wasting away before he had gotten his use out of you. Who would possibly volunteer to tolerate the crown prince long enough for him to become emperor if you died so quickly after you were wed?
"Is it possible to take my meal here?" You asked. "I would prefer to not be forced to dress just to eat alone."
Nobara pushed her way into the room.
"If my lady truly cannot be bothered, we can throw a dressing gown over—" Nobara eyed your thin slip. "—that. The lingering guests have all been sent home anyway."
You sighed. It was apparently too much to hope for the ability to quietly disappear into the background so soon after being introduced to the palace. You would just have to keep trying; the people around you would surely tire of attempting to keep up with what were ultimately unnecessary duties eventually.
After allowing Nobara to help you into the heavy, blue dressing gown, you followed her to the dining room, dragging your feet the entire way. Though you knew you needed to eat, it was hard to get excited for a meal that was guaranteed to be unappetizing. You practically had to choke down all of the meals served in the last few days before your wedding.
Walking into the room, you saw that Maki and Mai were posted where Megumi and Yuta usually stood. It was late; the two knights likely had duties more important than waiting around for you to show up to eat.
The food came quickly after you sat down, and you were absolutely astonished to find that you could actually smell it. Other than what you had eaten at your wedding, you hadn't been served hot food in at least a week and a half. It smelled good, too, an earthy mix of herbs and spices filling your nose as the meal was placed in front of you.
It was some kind of pot pie, the flaky, buttery crust a far cry from the burnt bread you had been receiving. You broke it open with your fork, a fragrant steam rising from the creamy mixture inside. It appeared to be a mix of roasted root vegetables in a rich, thick sauce, the smell of black pepper and garlic growing stronger as you brought a bite toward your mouth.
It was delicious. The taste of it was comforting—nothing too complex, but overwhelmingly hearty. It was hard to not devour it like some kind of starved animal, the fear that it would suddenly be stolen from you looming as you tried to maintain a civilized demeanor.
You actively worked to not think about the reason that you were suddenly receiving something palatable. Maybe skipping breakfast had made them think twice about what they were giving you, or perhaps they just felt bad enough for you to give you a break.
You didn't even notice someone dropping a second dish off, only realizing it as you polished off the pie. Beside you was a plate of thinly sliced, toasted bread with some kind of soft cheese and fruit preserves. Dessert was not something you had been served in your time at the palace, so your sweet tooth was more than deprived. The plate of bread, cheese, and fruit disappeared much more quickly than the main course, the tart sweetness still lingering on your tongue as you later laid back in your bed.
Full and satiated for the first time in weeks, you decided that you didn't care why you had gotten a good meal. They couldn't take it from you now, and you were smart enough to not believe that you should be expecting similar treatment in the future.
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When all was finally quiet much later that night, you threw a paper crane out your window, watching as it turned into a small bird and flew away.
The halls were predictably empty, though it wouldn't have mattered much under cover of darkness. It took little effort to spirit yourself through them to your destination. For good measure, you released another, louder bird to act as a distraction, which would hopefully draw the attention of anyone in the immediate area.
You hung the sachet from the handle of his door, figuring that he would easily happen upon it there.
It was merely a paltry show of appreciation for a good meal. Nothing more.
A week later, the improved meals still hadn't stopped. In fact, the quality of your food had only gotten better. The first morning, you had been a little shocked to find a fresh, hot breakfast waiting, but your amazement only grew as the meals quickly became increasingly elaborate.
The surprise quickly turned to confusion. Nobara still refused to let you eat your morning and evening meals in your room, although after you had made the request several times in a row, someone started to bring you a snack midday.
You had been taught well enough to never look a gift horse in the mouth, and so you simply carried on as you had planned. When you felt brave enough to wander the palace grounds, you took great care to avoid anywhere you thought that your husband might be. You didn't dare to venture into the gardens yet, still too scarred from the last time you had visited, but you had successfully bewitched a few more paper cranes to bring you sprigs of herbs and flowers.
As the next few weeks went on, being sequestered in your chambers started to drive you a little crazy. However, you were determined to keep up your hermit behavior until people slowly began to forget about you.
Your father always said that being mildly insane made for a better sorcerer anyway, something that you were finding to be true. The boredom was making you more productive when it came to creative problem solving, and there was actually a special sort of peace that came along with not being constantly distracted by frivolous things.
You were somewhat sad though. It had already been lonely for you in the palace, so cutting off the little social contact that you did have before isolating yourself amplified that feeling. You could tell that the staff noticed that you were hurting for company when you blabbered on about nothing during your meals.
That was probably why Yuta had been reassigned to your rotation of escorts. He had always been the most open to chatting with you. The young knight kept his distance, both physically and emotionally, but you had to admit it was still really nice to have the comfort of someone who was more gentle with you.
"Perhaps you should consider getting out more, my lady." Yuta suggested.
You were complaining about how stuffy your room had been getting with the summer heat, so it wasn't like Yuta was bringing it up out of nowhere, but something about the way he was speaking made you believe he had been waiting for an opportunity to speak on it.
"I don't know—" You sighed. "I would hate to take up your time with such unimportant affairs as following me around the gardens."
You thought that bringing up the gardens would deter Yuta, but it only encouraged him.
"You would like to see the gardens again?" Yuta asked. "That is something we could arrange—I can walk you to Nobara's quarters after you finish eating."
Nobara's quarters were halfway across the palace, though it felt like most places were with how enormous the grounds were. You knew the path well, and as you considered the offer, a wicked idea suddenly popped into your head.
After the incident with Satoru in the gardens, Yuta always took care to follow you at a significant distance. Between where you were currently and Nobara's quarters, there were several places where it would be easy to round a corner and disappear without raising the suspicion that you had intentionally lost your tail.
You wouldn't need long alone in the gardens—there were just a few plants that you were interested in acquiring without being actively observed.
You smiled, the perfect route already coming together in your mind.
"You know what? That sounds nice." You mused. "We can go find Nobara after this."
There was a quiet eagerness about Yuta as he followed behind you. He seemed pleased with himself after getting you to agree to a walk in the gardens. It made you wonder if your keepers had been instructed to ensure you were getting proper enrichment, or if he was simply kind enough to genuinely care about your well-being.
That almost made you feel a little guilty about planning to utilize him in another one of your schemes. You weren't planning something devious this time, though. You would just be making your way to the gardens a little faster than expected—it wasn't like you were going out of your way to run into Satoru again.
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You could hear Yuta calling for you as you slipped into an alcove, could hear his panicked footsteps as he broke into a run to try and catch up. The young knight had good instincts—he had actually turned the correct direction. Watching as his shadow blew past your hiding spot, you waited until you could no longer hear him before peeking out into the hall.
Once you confirmed that you were alone, you dashed in the opposite direction, sliding around the corner toward your temporary freedom. If you were quick, it would only take you a few minutes to reach a spot that would lead you outside, and the gardens wouldn't be far beyond that.
Your time locked away had apparently been detrimental to your mental map of the palace. When you hadn't found the area that you had expected to reach, you panicked and unlocked a window, clambering outside in hopes that you would have a better idea of where you were once you weren't within the palace halls anymore.
That turned out to be wishful thinking; however, as you were completely lost almost immediately after leaving the vicinity of your escape window.
It turned out that being lost outside the palace wasn't so bad, though. Yuta had been right about you needing to get out. Your mood improved significantly after spending just a little time in the sun, and though you would likely not be accomplishing your original goal, you didn't really feel disappointed. You could always visit the garden another day, and there were still plenty of books in your room that you could harvest pages from for paper cranes.
Allowing yourself to wander freely, you noticed an area nearby that you had never seen before. The scenery grew less ornamental as you neared it. There were still some trees around, but the shrubbery lining the walkways had become much smaller and more sparse. In some places, the ground was covered only in short grass or small rocks, and in the distance you could see tamped earth that must have been used for training of some kind.
Coming up near the outside of the palace, you noticed a network of covered walkways that lined its exterior. You took the first turn available in hopes that the cover would give you a little extra time to explore alone.
The space the walkways surrounded did appear to be intended for training. You noted several worn dummies in the courtyards, along with empty, wooden racks that were presumably meant to hold weapons. The huge, stone pillars the supported the ceiling of the walkways obscured your view of the outdoor space that they bordered, and so by the time you realized that you had happened upon an area that was in use, it was already far too late.
Impulsively, you decided to hide behind one of the pillars for a bit until the person training left, but apparently they were extremely diligent. From how things sounded, they were quite athletic, their vigorous exercise enough to make you feel tired just from listening.
Truly, you hadn't intended to look at all, but eventually the combined power of your curiosity and boredom grew too great. Peering around the pillar, a flash of steel caught your eye, and it was regrettably out of your hands from there.
Satoru was bare from the waist up, his tunic discarded on the ground near a waterskin. In daylight, you could make out more detail than you had been able to on the morning after your wedding. A body unlike any you had ever seen, strong and toned, the hard lines of him dripping with his exertion. He somehow looked bigger without his tunic, his stature and strength causing his intimidating form to seem even more impressive. Even from a distance, hidden in the shadow of a pillar, you could see the definition of the muscle on his body.
It was mesmerizing, not only the beauty of him, but the predatory efficiency of his form.
The sight of him hard at work was so distracting that you didn't notice it at first. An enormous scar, old and faded, spanning all the way around his middle. It was the sort of scar you had seen before, the kind that was left behind after the removal of a soulmark. When fresh, those scars still sparkled and shined with the remnants of the magical power that had stolen the mark away. Satoru's was old enough that it should have looked almost like a normal scar, but you tell from the tissue banding that it likely still ached as if it were new.
You were aware that it was common for people of higher status to have their marks removed, but you hadn't really thought about the state of Satoru's suspected soulmark. Before now, it had been a nebulous concept, unconfirmed speculation that you had never considered beyond its affect on you. Having put some serious effort into not thinking about that man and his theoretical soulmate, it was disappointing to suddenly have all of that work undone. Feeling envious of a dead person for being the object of Satoru's unrelenting devotion was the last thing you wanted to do, but regardless of how much you tried to suppress it, the feeling still lingered beneath the surface.
Knowing what you did, you felt like you were invading Satoru's privacy seeing him like this.
Still, you couldn't bring yourself to regret witnessing what you had stumbled upon, not when the sight was so strangely satisfying to behold.
You were determined to only watch for a moment, and then a moment longer, and before you knew it, Satoru was finishing up with his training.
Eyes still locked on him, you found yourself deeply ashamed by the fact that you were practically salivating over a man who couldn't stand you. Satoru tilted his head back to drink from his waterskin, stray liquid dripping down his chin and chest. Now that he was standing still, you could better make out the lines of his body. He was lean enough that the definition near his belt brought with it the suggestion of what might lie beneath, a line of thinking that you followed quite willingly despite the context of who you were fantasizing about.
It might have remained a harmless secret—had Satoru not suddenly turned your way.
You thought that the phenomenal speed at which you disappeared behind that pillar might have saved you, but in retrospect, your luck had likely run out the moment you decided to investigate the training grounds.
In turning to flee, you tripped, and fell directly into someone. Your arms flew out in an attempt to catch yourself, wrapping around the body of the person in front of you. Your knees hit the ground, your face colliding with the person's front as you fell. You could feel your face burning with your embarrassment, your body flooding with heat as you tried to will yourself to ignore the fact that your cheek was pressed directly into their loins.
You knew that it was Satoru without looking up into his face. Who else could it have been? Besides, after spending the better part of the last hour staring at him, you would have recognized even part of that body anywhere.
Time seemed to slow as you tried to will yourself out of existence. Both you and Satoru were frozen in place, likely because neither of you were entirely sure what to do.
Regrettably, because you did still need to breathe, you inhaled, the smell of musk filling your nose, something earthy, spicy, and distinctly sweet. It smelled like Satoru's bed, but stronger. It was an oddly pleasant scent, one that you had been unable to fully erase from your mind.
One that you would surely be unable to after this.
Pressing against your face, however, was something that caused your racing thoughts to abruptly come to a halt. You could feel it pulsing against your cheek, huge and hard and definitely not that way for you. He had just been working out; it was only natural for a man like him to have healthy blood flow to all parts of his body.
The fact that the state of him had nothing to do with you didn't seem to matter to your own body. Already traitorously aroused by peeping on his training, the still-fresh thoughts of what married couples were supposed to do with one another would have brought you to your knees—were you not already on them, of course.
It was only when your eyes met that scar at his middle that you truly understood.
If someone had given you the choice between staying right where you were or pulling away and looking up at your husband, you would have asked if the third option of being struck down by the gods was a possibility.
However, the gods had proven themselves to be anything but merciful when it came to your marriage, and eventually you were forced to turn your gaze toward Satoru's.
You met those beautiful blue eyes, devastation washing over you as your mind confirmed everything you were feeling.
You almost wished that he would have insulted you. That he would have made some crass implication about your duty as his wife or called you a desperate whore. That he would have pushed you to the ground and made you kiss his feet as an apology for leering at him the way you had been.
Anything would have been better than the nauseating look of shock and revulsion on Satoru's face as he finally stepped away from you, breaking the hold your arms still had on him.
The realization you were coming to was enough to choke you all on its own, but your bound tongue took care of any remaining possibility of expressing yourself. Gagging on every word you wanted to say, you blinked up at your husband with your mouth agape. He looked stunning from every angle, but in your infinite misfortune, your mind was already unhelpfully supplying a different, superior context of him above you.
Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but at that exact moment, Nobara came sailing around the corner, her heavy skirts fluttering around her ankles. She skidded to a halt when she saw the two of you, panicked disbelief painting her face as she took in the sight. Yuta appeared moments after, only narrowly avoiding slamming into Nobara as he came to a stop.
Yuta and Nobara must have known one another for a long while, because all it took was a single glance exchanged between them before they jumped into action. The two of them quickly inserted themselves between you, clearly trying to stop the imminent situation from developing any further.
"Your highness, Advisor Kento has been looking for you—" Yuta explained.
"My lady—" Nobara gasped, still catching her breath. "You cannot just run off like that!"
She grabbed you beneath your arms, hauling you to your feet before fretting over you in an overly dramatic way. Examining your dirtied dress, she kissed her teeth, acting you as if you were an errant child.
"Come, we'll need to get you into clean clothes—the wife of the crown prince can't be seen looking like a mess—" Nobara dragged you away as quickly as she could, scolding you until Satoru was well out of earshot.
The rest of your day was a blur, your attention turned completely inward as you realized the true nature of everything that had been laid out before you.
You were fairly sure that you were going to have to be restrained the next time you saw your father, otherwise you might end up strangling him. The fact that you had ended up here, in an arranged marriage with your soulmate, was an impossible coincidence. Knowing Suguru as well as you did, along with the little that you understood about his darker, more secretive work, it was easy to believe that he had been planning this for a very long time.
It was apparent that your father had ultimately bound you for your safety, but the fact that he had sent you into all of this without telling you a single thing was just plain reckless. At the very least, Suguru could have hinted that he was sending you into this kind of predicament.
You were standing before your mirror, fingers tracing the lines of you soulmark. You must have been frozen there for at least an hour, completely mesmerized as you grappled with the tumultuous mix of feelings that had bubbled up inside you.
Satoru Gojo was your soulmate.
Under any other circumstance, this would have been the best day of you life. Being so lucky as to actually marry one's soulmate was highly unusual for people like you, and that went doubly for Satoru. At the same time, it was extremely unfortunate. There was no way that things would ever be easy for the two of you, even if you somehow managed to be unbound. Peace and happiness were a pipe dream for soulmates of higher birth or status.
Any yet, as you touched the sparkling, silver lines of you soulmark, you dared to imagine that impossible life.
Having such a world-shattering realization made everything that had happened to you since coming to the palace look new. The devotion Satoru felt toward his soulmate and his resulting disdain toward you had been easy to understand. It was the behavior that didn't fit the pattern that had confused you. The intense, territorial jealousy, the strange protectiveness, the way he kept bringing up a smell that no one else had ever mentioned—all things that you had written off as the quirks of a powerful man who had always gotten his way before you came along.
Now, however, you had new context for all of it.
Your horrific introduction to the man, the systematic demoralization, the dreadful wedding and subsequent night together…all of that effort followed by the sudden, inexplicable changes in the way you were being treated made complete sense.
Whether or not Satoru had figured out what was going on was difficult to ascertain. Seasoned leader that he was, it was unlikely that he would be quick to reveal such sensitive information, even to the most relevant party. Combine that with the fact that he seemed to care a great deal about his soulmate, and it was possible that he could learn the truth and decide to never disclose it.
But something in your gut told you that Satoru didn't know.
If that were the case, then you truly had your work cut out for you. As you dwelt on the idea, you realized that your plans for surviving this palace would likely be unsustainable. Even if you were initially able to resist the temptation, able to prevent yourself from being drawn toward your soulmate, the magic that tied the two of you together would inevitably make it impossible.
Every individual's symptoms were different, but being bound as you were, yours were only destined to worsen as the soulmate magic fought the restrictions placed on you.
You could already feel the pull, a sensation that you hadn't understood before your epiphany. You had chalked it up to anxiety, assuming that the feeling of your throat tightening up had been related to the unpleasant things happening to you.
There was nothing to be done for it. You would just have to change up your strategy.
After all, how hard could it be to seduce your own soulmate?
Satoru was entirely convinced that he had gone mad.
He hadn't been able to focus all evening, his thoughts inevitably returning to what had happened earlier that day again and again. Being the sort of over-thinker that he was, Satoru had already twisted the memory into an elaborate fantasy.
In truth, it had been a brief moment, a few seconds of awkward contact, follow by an even more uncomfortable resolution facilitated by his knights.
In Satoru's recollection, however, everything was different.
The way Satoru remembered it, you hadn't stumbled to the ground, but instead dropped to your knees. You hadn't caught yourself using his body, but rather pulled him into your embrace. You hadn't accidentally fallen face-first into his erection, but willingly pressed your lips against him.
In Satoru's re-imagining, you hadn't looked up at him in humiliation and horror. You had looked at him with passionate, burning desire.
Each time Satoru banished the image from his mind, it came back stronger and more perverse.
Worse still, his scar hurt. It was almost as if his soulmate was punishing him from the beyond for his lack of fidelity. Though Satoru had been mostly free of serious episodes in recent years, the pain had flared back up as soon as you appeared, and the contact your bare skin had made with his scar that day had only caused the problem to become more severe.
And yet, Satoru couldn't stop.
Yes, Satoru was entirely convinced he had gone mad, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when what he was experiencing felt so. incredibly. good.
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On the night of Satoru's wedding, that dull ache in his scar had evolved into something more complicated. As much as he hated to admit it, the brief conflict that he had with his new wife had stuck with him. It was like he had taken that blade to his ribs rather than his hand, each breath making the blossoming ache grow.
The way you smelled was getting to him, too. It was unbelievable, a soft sweetness that followed you everywhere you went. Summertime strawberries and thick, sugary cream—each inhale fed the unfamiliar beast within him. It felt like magic, wild and alive, a snarling, writhing thing that clawed its way up his throat and burrowed into his brain. The feeling had set him on edge from the very first moment he noticed your scent, making him restless when he was usually able to make himself still.
Satoru didn't sleep at all that night, the time ticking by at an agonizingly slow pace. Lying awake there, he realized that he was angry, not at you, but at himself.
You hadn't asked to be involved in this marriage, and when you had made an effort in good faith, Satoru had only worked to make your life unbearable. As much as he acted like he wanted nothing to do with you, he had only grown more obsessed as time went on. He found himself checking in on you constantly, playing with the details of your life and telling himself that he would feel better once you were more miserable than he was.
Satoru understood that what he was doing was insane. It didn't make sense—he wasn't even this invested in his revenge on Suguru Geto. The fact that you had still been willing to fulfill your marital duties had set him off entirely. After a long day of being reminded that he was marrying a woman he could never love, having you merely insinuate that the two of you were obligated to consummate the marriage was enough to push Satoru over the edge he had been dancing on all evening.
He admired you, in a way. Even in the face of the highest power in the empire, you allowed yourself to bend appropriately, but you still refused to break. Satoru had taken you for a weak, soft woman, and while you did your best to play the part, you still consistently proved you were capable of so much more.
By the time morning had come, he was absolutely furious.
Satoru was going to personally see to having that dagger destroyed. He never wanted to see that damned blade again, especially not in your hands. Witnessing you ready to hurt yourself had done something to him. The moment replayed in his mind, fear gripping his heart each time he pictured your determined expression.
How he managed to control himself through the night, Satoru wasn't entirely sure.
There was a limit to every man's will, however, and after having spent the greater part of the night lying awake with a raging erection, Satoru Gojo had finally reached his. It wasn't a moment after you closed the door to the royal bedchambers behind you that Satoru rolled over and buried his face in the pillow you had been using.
Satoru had noticed your sweet scent from the very first moment that you had walked into his office. At first, he thought you were just wearing some kind of luxury perfume. Later, he had begun to suspect that your father had provided you with a potion of allure. Your claim that you weren't wearing anything had proved true. Satoru had gone through all of your things himself, so unless you kept the substance hidden on your person, that intoxicating smell was all you.
How could a person even smell like that? Normal people didn't smell like fresh powdered sugar and ripe fruit.
Each breath Satoru took did nothing to satisfy him, the urge to take in more of you only growing with each desperate inhale. Pressing his nose deeper, he wondered if it would be possible to have your personal pillow exchanged daily so that he could have this experience every morning.
Satoru hadn't even noticed that he was rocking his hips against the bed, his neglected cock leaking onto the rumpled sheets. He didn't think it was possible for him to get any harder, but huffing your sweet scent had proven him wrong almost instantly. It bordered on painful, his body demanding release that he was reluctant to give it.
Indulging in a single, strong roll of his hips quickly had him changing his mind. The feeling was simply irresistible, a wave of pleasure that washed over him before pulling him under entirely, sweeping away the logical thoughts that told him what he was doing was wrong.
Rejecting you so thoroughly only to engage in a private, perverted practice like this was frightening display of abberancy. It was only because he was already doing so many things that were unlike himself that Satoru was capable of justifying it.
Although, 'justifying' was an extremely loose description of what Satoru was doing. He was struggling to keep hold of any thought that wasn't based entirely in the moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Satoru knew that he would sincerely regret betraying his beloved, late soulmate, but that thought was eradicated each time he inhaled.
It wasn't long before Satoru had made a mess of the bed. He came with a deep growl, the sounds of his ecstasy muffled by the pillow smushed against his face. Distantly, Satoru realized he was imagining what it might be like to have part of you pressed against his face. The thought melted away like spun sugar, the burning pleasure of his lurid act overtaking his mind.
Recovering from his shameful tryst with the bedding, Satoru threw an arm over his face, groaning as he realized that he was still half-hard.
There was no denying it, not anymore. Despite everything, Satoru wanted you, wanted you in a way that he had never imagined he could ever want another person. If he weren't so violently aroused, he might have taken a moment to examine the turmoil brewing inside him.
However, as the future emperor, Satoru wasn't the sort of person who allowed himself to engage in such extravagant behavior as considering his own emotional needs.
Satoru got up shortly after, still wanting, but determined to make the whole event out to be a momentary lapse of reason. The bloody, sticky mess he had made of the sheets was tossed aside, better evidence of an act that had never occurred than he had expected to achieve. The lovebirds, which had been mercifully silent until he got out of bed, began shrieking at him as he moved around, compounding the guilt that Satoru already felt.
After a thorough, frustrating hour of searching, Satoru finally left his quarters to go about his day, the offending dagger nowhere to be found.
⊹༺✦༻⊹
All the work Satoru had put into abstaining from repeating his shameful actions was wasted after he found you spying on him during his training.
Rather than question any of it, Satoru had decided it was easier to accept that the whole affair had broken his already fractured mind. Why the thought of you watching him exert himself excited him, why he couldn't seem to rid the feeling of your touch from his skin, why he was always having to push the thought of you out of his head…
The answer was simple. Satoru was a worthless dog, a horny mutt who folded the moment a woman who managed to even remotely interest him was in his vicinity. All his contempt for you had evaporated, replaced by absolute self-loathing.
Satoru couldn't bring himself to hate you for it. The guilt was his alone. He had picked you for this, plucked you from your happy home and brought you to the palace in hopes of personally ensuring you and your family's destruction. He had tormented you, a powerless, innocent woman, and actively sought to make your life unbearable, all for his own pleasure.
Now, for a disturbingly similar reason, Satoru was bent over his bed, fucking his fist while he smothered himself with your dirty undergarments. He been content to steal whatever he could find from the laundry, but now he was wondering if it would be possible to acquire what you had been wearing that day.
Surely if something from an average day was this utterly decadent, then the smell from that day would be akin to ambrosia.
The thought of it alone was what finished him. Satoru bit his lower lip as he came, milking thick, hot ropes of cum as he pictured you on your knees before him. It was the best orgasm he'd ever had, and yet it only left him wanting.
It was dark out when he made his way back to the laundry, the few staff who remained in the area so late scattering as he approached. They knew better than to ask questions, though undoubtedly rumors were already spreading of his continued, unusual behavior. He had already heard a group of maids gossiping about his frequent visits to the aviary.
Satoru practically sniffed out exactly what he was searching for, your clothes calling to him as if they were enchanted. He hadn't even needed to use his power to find them as he had the first time, something that he might have found troubling if he had been able to bring himself to care.
It took another two rounds to slake his lust, though it was clear that the fix was temporary. As he laid in bed that night, for the first time in his life, Satoru hoped he dreamt of someone other than his soulmate.
That settled it. Complicated feelings aside, Satoru would need to do something about you.
A restless night, two bodies thrashing against the tides, entangled in desire lines.
desire lines by lush
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