âïž a/n â part of my you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love series :) find it here !
âïž word count â 2.1k
âïž content â sae itoshi x fem! reader, model! reader, established relationship, rumors abt reader, cheating mentioned once or twice, alcohol and drug use mentioned, not proofread.
âïž synopsis â You had your own career, your own friends, your own life. You should've been perfectly capable of entertaining yourself. But somehow whenever Sae left for away games or training camps, the entire apartment seemed to lose its color.
ââ âïž that's just the thing that happens when my baby goes away !
The rumors started sometime around midnight.
You only found out because your manager texted you three screenshots of some sort of news article and the words
Mngr: Don't read the comments.
So, naturally, you read the comments.
itashifan44: Definitely cheating
saeitoshitoelicker: Sae's never home. What a hoe
bigbouncyballs: girl left the party early because she got caught
baroubaroukyun: She looks high as hell
You stared at the comments on your phone, then at the spoonful of ice cream in your hand, and then back at your phone.
You were wearing one of Sae's old hoodies, your hair looked terrible, and you hadn't left the apartment in three days.
"...What exciting lives they think I lead." With a sigh, you tossed your phone onto the couch cushion beside you while the television continued playing in the background.
It was some modeling competition. Nexx Top Model or something.
You weren't exactly sure what it was because, truthfully, you werenât really paying attention. You knew there was a contestant who was crying because her photo shoot score wasn't high enough, but even that wasnât interesting enough to keep your mind off of how the apartment felt too quiet.
It always did when Sae was gone, but you hated admitting it.
You had your own career, your own friends, your own life.
You were successful enough that your face was plastered on billboards and magazine covers.
You should've been perfectly capable of entertaining yourself.
But somehow whenever Sae left for away games or training camps, the entire apartment seemed to lose its color.
The silence became so loud to the point you jumped at every little noise, worried somehow someone had broken in while youâd been right in front of the door. The bed became so big you felt like it might swallow you whole. Everything around you felt just a little emptier.
It was embarrassing, honestly.
Every time he left, he gave you the same instruction, "Don't stay inside all day." As if you were a house cat!Â
And every single time you'd tell him, "I won't." Which was a complete lie.
Because whenever he wasn't home, all you wanted to do was wait for him to come back.
Because if you were inside, then no one could make up some story about you, and lo and behold when you'd actually listened to him for once, the rumors now on your phone stirred up once again.
Weeks ago your agency had hosted a huge party.
A networking event with all sorts of sponsors and designers being invited. Models, influencers, and celebrities were all in attendance. This was the kind of event that was supposedly important for your career, and yet you'd wanted to skip it.
Sae had been leaving for Spain that morning.
You remembered standing in the airport terminal while he adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, "You should go." he said, as calm and stoic as ever.
You groaned, "I don't want to."
"You never want to."
"Because they're boring."
"They're important for you." You narrowed your eyes, hating how sophisticated he looked and sounded.
His mouth twitched into what could be perceived as almost a smile. Almost.
"Traitor." You huffed, glaring at him as if he really had betrayed you. "Go to the party."
You crossed your arms, "No."
He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead, completely ruining your ability to stay annoyed, "Go."
And because you were weak for him- and definitely not because he called you and all but scolded you on staying in - you went.
Which, from the moment youâd stepped in the door, youâd known was a big mistake.
The second you'd arrived, you wanted to leave.
Music pounded through the walls. People were crowded in every room. Champagne flowed like water. And there were enough suspicious substances floating around to make you nervous.
You spent exactly an hour there.
One, singular.
You talked to a few friends and took pictures with sponsors like you were technically âsupposed to.â
You smiled for cameras and pretended to enjoy yourself. Then the second the clock hit on the hour, you escaped.
You remembered slipping out the front door, relieved to be free of that terrible place full of terrible people and utterly ready to go home.
But nothing was ever simple in your life, apparently, thanks to a paparazzi photographer that had been waiting outside.
Within minutes, the headlines appeared:
MODEL CAUGHT LEAVING MYSTERY HOME AT MIDNIGHT
As if. No, not even just as if! As if you'd have the energy for an affair! As if you would cheat on the Sae Itoshi! And as if you would ever let yourself get caught if you were !
You barely had the energy to wash your makeup off after shoots, and these people think you have the brain power and energy to have a whole double life? You wished.
The second you'd gotten home that night, you'd called Sae, ignoring the time difference between the two of you entirely.
Your phone rang once. Twice.
Then with a soft click, Sae appeared on your screen.
His hotel room was dimly lit.
His hair looked damp, probably fresh out of the shower considering heâd definitely just gotten out of practice.
The sight of him immediately made your chest ache.
"There she is."
You rolled your eyes, "Hello my amazing, awesome, loving boyfriend."
A small pause, and with an amused smirk on his face, "Hello, Ms. Cheater."
You gasped, "Sae Itoshi." His expression remained completely serious, "How's your affair?"
"You quit that."
"The mysterious lover treating you well?"
"You're not funny." You shoved your phone against the bathroom counter before beginning your skincare routine.
The entire time you complained.
About the party and every random drug and drink that was offered to you.
About your agency who let rumors and lies spread about you for âgood publicityâ instead of fixing it.
About the paparazzi who just had to sell the ugliest picture of you out of all the ones theyâd taken.
About the headlines where your name was never mentioned- only known as Sae Itoshiâs girlfriend. You had a name goddamnit!
About the comments that people left because at this point, they were so unoriginal and unfunny that it hurt.
Truly, you complained about literally everything.
Sae listened quietly, occasionally humming in agreement and nodding along, and sometimes youâd catch him looking suspiciously amused.
You changed into pajamas, brushed your teeth, washed your face, and put up your hairâŠall while complaining to the man over the phone.
By the time you finally crawled into bed, nearly thirty minutes had passed and Sae had barely spoken, simply opting to listen to you and your problems.
You settled against your pillow, exhausted when he did finally speak, "Did you have fun?"
You stared at him like heâd grown a second head, "Sae Itoshi."
"Hm?"
"I just spent thirty minutes talking about how much I hated that place."
He nodded, "Right." You desperately wished he was besides you so you could give him a good smack, "So obviously I didn't have fun."
A laugh escaped him and you immediately felt your annoyance weaken.
Damn your traitorous heart.
"You're awful."
"So I've been told."
You sighed.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
You simply looked at him, memorizing him through the screen.
The shape of his face. The color of his eyes. The way his hair fell over his forehead.
God. You missed him.
And it had only been two weeks. Two stupid weeks! Yet somehow, the more you thought about it, it felt longer.
"I miss you." The words slipped out before you could stop them.
The teasing smile disappeared from his face.
His expression softened just enough for you to notice, "I miss you too."
Your chest tightened, "When are you coming home?"
"Soon."
"Soon isn't soon enough."
"I know."
You pouted and the mildly sad moment was gone because all Sae looked was amused again, "You'll survive."
"Will I?" You groaned.
He smiled, nodding along to your dramatic whines.
Suddenly everything hurt a little less.
Only a little, but it was enough.
Enough to get through another day without Sae by your side. Just talking to him reminded you that you loved him enough to wait. You could definitely keep going until he came home.
The thing that scared you wasn't the distance, you understood the distance. Afterall, Sae was a professional athlete and travel was part of the job. You'd known that from the beginning.
What scared you was how much you missed him.
Because you'd dated before. Not many people, but enough. And not in any one of those relationships had you ever felt this way.
Never.
You'd never heard a joke and immediately thought:
I need to tell him.
You'd never seen something cute in a store and wanted to buy it because someone specific would like it.
You'd never reached across a bed and felt disappointed when nobody was there.
You'd never missed someone so much that entire parts of your day felt incomplete.
It terrified you.
Because what if it never stopped?
What if you spent the rest of your life feeling this way whenever he left?
What if that was just what loving Sae meant?
Being with him made you happy and you were so loved, but you were also simultaneously missing him every second he wasn't there.
You weren't sure, but you thought about it often. Especially on nights like this when you were alone in your apartment, curled beneath blankets and listening to the distant hum of city traffic.
Waiting for a man who made your heart ache even when he was across the world.
Three weeks later, you were lying on the couch.
Again.
Exactly where Sae told you not to be.
A blanket cocooned around you while you binged another episode of that modeling show played on the television. Not that you were paying attention, no, you were scrolling through old pictures of Sae.
Pathetic.
A key turned in the front door and you froze, the sound barely registered at first. Then you heard the door open and your heart stopped.
No. No way.
You shot upright.
The suitcase was the first thing you saw. Then his pink hair. Then familiar teal eyes that you loved to look into.
For a second neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.
Sae looked tired, travel-worn, down right exhausted, and somehow still the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
The blanket fell off your shoulders.
"Sae?"
His expression softened immediately. And that was all it took before you practically launched yourself off the couch, crossing the apartment in seconds.
His bag hit the floor as you crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck.
His arms immediately circled your waist, holding you so tightly that you almost couldn't breathe. Not that you cared. He could suffocate you just like this and youâd be thankful. His face disappeared into your hair, taking deep breaths.
You felt his shoulders relax, like he'd finally stopped carrying some invisible weight.
For a long moment neither of you spoke, neither of you needed to.
You just stood there holding each other and making up for weeks apart.
Eventually he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you.
His thumbs brushed your cheeks, "You look tired." You scoffed, "You just got off an international flight. You look worse."
A rare smile appeared.
God, you'd missed that smile.
You stared at him. Then stared some more like heâd disappear if you looked away for too long.
A frown filled your face and Sae raised an eyebrow, "What?" You buried your face in his chest again, "I really hate when you leave." The confession slipped out before you could stop it. "I know it's your job and I know it's stupid and I know you'll always come back but I still hate it." The words were muffled against his shirt.
You felt him rest his chin on top of your head. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than usual, "It isn't stupid."
Your eyes stung unexpectedly, because when you told anyone else this theyâd say you were silly for thinking like that, "You think?"
He nodded, rubbing his thumb under your eye to catch the few fallen tears, "I know so."
You squeezed him tighter, "You've ruined me Sae Itoshi,â you sighed. "I didn't use to be like this."
A small laugh vibrated through his chest before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, then your temple, then the tip of your nose. And suddenly every lonely night felt worth it.
Because he was here.
Home.
And for the first time in weeks, the apartment didn't feel empty anymore.
âïž a/n â part of my you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love series :) find it here !
âïž word count â 2.1k
âïž content â sae itoshi x fem! reader, model! reader, established relationship, rumors abt reader, cheating mentioned once or twice, alcohol and drug use mentioned, not proofread.
âïž synopsis â You had your own career, your own friends, your own life. You should've been perfectly capable of entertaining yourself. But somehow whenever Sae left for away games or training camps, the entire apartment seemed to lose its color.
ââ âïž that's just the thing that happens when my baby goes away !
The rumors started sometime around midnight.
You only found out because your manager texted you three screenshots of some sort of news article and the words
Mngr: Don't read the comments.
So, naturally, you read the comments.
itashifan44: Definitely cheating
saeitoshitoelicker: Sae's never home. What a hoe
bigbouncyballs: girl left the party early because she got caught
baroubaroukyun: She looks high as hell
You stared at the comments on your phone, then at the spoonful of ice cream in your hand, and then back at your phone.
You were wearing one of Sae's old hoodies, your hair looked terrible, and you hadn't left the apartment in three days.
"...What exciting lives they think I lead." With a sigh, you tossed your phone onto the couch cushion beside you while the television continued playing in the background.
It was some modeling competition. Nexx Top Model or something.
You weren't exactly sure what it was because, truthfully, you werenât really paying attention. You knew there was a contestant who was crying because her photo shoot score wasn't high enough, but even that wasnât interesting enough to keep your mind off of how the apartment felt too quiet.
It always did when Sae was gone, but you hated admitting it.
You had your own career, your own friends, your own life.
You were successful enough that your face was plastered on billboards and magazine covers.
You should've been perfectly capable of entertaining yourself.
But somehow whenever Sae left for away games or training camps, the entire apartment seemed to lose its color.
The silence became so loud to the point you jumped at every little noise, worried somehow someone had broken in while youâd been right in front of the door. The bed became so big you felt like it might swallow you whole. Everything around you felt just a little emptier.
It was embarrassing, honestly.
Every time he left, he gave you the same instruction, "Don't stay inside all day." As if you were a house cat!Â
And every single time you'd tell him, "I won't." Which was a complete lie.
Because whenever he wasn't home, all you wanted to do was wait for him to come back.
Because if you were inside, then no one could make up some story about you, and lo and behold when you'd actually listened to him for once, the rumors now on your phone stirred up once again.
Weeks ago your agency had hosted a huge party.
A networking event with all sorts of sponsors and designers being invited. Models, influencers, and celebrities were all in attendance. This was the kind of event that was supposedly important for your career, and yet you'd wanted to skip it.
Sae had been leaving for Spain that morning.
You remembered standing in the airport terminal while he adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, "You should go." he said, as calm and stoic as ever.
You groaned, "I don't want to."
"You never want to."
"Because they're boring."
"They're important for you." You narrowed your eyes, hating how sophisticated he looked and sounded.
His mouth twitched into what could be perceived as almost a smile. Almost.
"Traitor." You huffed, glaring at him as if he really had betrayed you. "Go to the party."
You crossed your arms, "No."
He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead, completely ruining your ability to stay annoyed, "Go."
And because you were weak for him- and definitely not because he called you and all but scolded you on staying in - you went.
Which, from the moment youâd stepped in the door, youâd known was a big mistake.
The second you'd arrived, you wanted to leave.
Music pounded through the walls. People were crowded in every room. Champagne flowed like water. And there were enough suspicious substances floating around to make you nervous.
You spent exactly an hour there.
One, singular.
You talked to a few friends and took pictures with sponsors like you were technically âsupposed to.â
You smiled for cameras and pretended to enjoy yourself. Then the second the clock hit on the hour, you escaped.
You remembered slipping out the front door, relieved to be free of that terrible place full of terrible people and utterly ready to go home.
But nothing was ever simple in your life, apparently, thanks to a paparazzi photographer that had been waiting outside.
Within minutes, the headlines appeared:
MODEL CAUGHT LEAVING MYSTERY HOME AT MIDNIGHT
As if. No, not even just as if! As if you'd have the energy for an affair! As if you would cheat on the Sae Itoshi! And as if you would ever let yourself get caught if you were !
You barely had the energy to wash your makeup off after shoots, and these people think you have the brain power and energy to have a whole double life? You wished.
The second you'd gotten home that night, you'd called Sae, ignoring the time difference between the two of you entirely.
Your phone rang once. Twice.
Then with a soft click, Sae appeared on your screen.
His hotel room was dimly lit.
His hair looked damp, probably fresh out of the shower considering heâd definitely just gotten out of practice.
The sight of him immediately made your chest ache.
"There she is."
You rolled your eyes, "Hello my amazing, awesome, loving boyfriend."
A small pause, and with an amused smirk on his face, "Hello, Ms. Cheater."
You gasped, "Sae Itoshi." His expression remained completely serious, "How's your affair?"
"You quit that."
"The mysterious lover treating you well?"
"You're not funny." You shoved your phone against the bathroom counter before beginning your skincare routine.
The entire time you complained.
About the party and every random drug and drink that was offered to you.
About your agency who let rumors and lies spread about you for âgood publicityâ instead of fixing it.
About the paparazzi who just had to sell the ugliest picture of you out of all the ones theyâd taken.
About the headlines where your name was never mentioned- only known as Sae Itoshiâs girlfriend. You had a name goddamnit!
About the comments that people left because at this point, they were so unoriginal and unfunny that it hurt.
Truly, you complained about literally everything.
Sae listened quietly, occasionally humming in agreement and nodding along, and sometimes youâd catch him looking suspiciously amused.
You changed into pajamas, brushed your teeth, washed your face, and put up your hairâŠall while complaining to the man over the phone.
By the time you finally crawled into bed, nearly thirty minutes had passed and Sae had barely spoken, simply opting to listen to you and your problems.
You settled against your pillow, exhausted when he did finally speak, "Did you have fun?"
You stared at him like heâd grown a second head, "Sae Itoshi."
"Hm?"
"I just spent thirty minutes talking about how much I hated that place."
He nodded, "Right." You desperately wished he was besides you so you could give him a good smack, "So obviously I didn't have fun."
A laugh escaped him and you immediately felt your annoyance weaken.
Damn your traitorous heart.
"You're awful."
"So I've been told."
You sighed.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
You simply looked at him, memorizing him through the screen.
The shape of his face. The color of his eyes. The way his hair fell over his forehead.
God. You missed him.
And it had only been two weeks. Two stupid weeks! Yet somehow, the more you thought about it, it felt longer.
"I miss you." The words slipped out before you could stop them.
The teasing smile disappeared from his face.
His expression softened just enough for you to notice, "I miss you too."
Your chest tightened, "When are you coming home?"
"Soon."
"Soon isn't soon enough."
"I know."
You pouted and the mildly sad moment was gone because all Sae looked was amused again, "You'll survive."
"Will I?" You groaned.
He smiled, nodding along to your dramatic whines.
Suddenly everything hurt a little less.
Only a little, but it was enough.
Enough to get through another day without Sae by your side. Just talking to him reminded you that you loved him enough to wait. You could definitely keep going until he came home.
The thing that scared you wasn't the distance, you understood the distance. Afterall, Sae was a professional athlete and travel was part of the job. You'd known that from the beginning.
What scared you was how much you missed him.
Because you'd dated before. Not many people, but enough. And not in any one of those relationships had you ever felt this way.
Never.
You'd never heard a joke and immediately thought:
I need to tell him.
You'd never seen something cute in a store and wanted to buy it because someone specific would like it.
You'd never reached across a bed and felt disappointed when nobody was there.
You'd never missed someone so much that entire parts of your day felt incomplete.
It terrified you.
Because what if it never stopped?
What if you spent the rest of your life feeling this way whenever he left?
What if that was just what loving Sae meant?
Being with him made you happy and you were so loved, but you were also simultaneously missing him every second he wasn't there.
You weren't sure, but you thought about it often. Especially on nights like this when you were alone in your apartment, curled beneath blankets and listening to the distant hum of city traffic.
Waiting for a man who made your heart ache even when he was across the world.
Three weeks later, you were lying on the couch.
Again.
Exactly where Sae told you not to be.
A blanket cocooned around you while you binged another episode of that modeling show played on the television. Not that you were paying attention, no, you were scrolling through old pictures of Sae.
Pathetic.
A key turned in the front door and you froze, the sound barely registered at first. Then you heard the door open and your heart stopped.
No. No way.
You shot upright.
The suitcase was the first thing you saw. Then his pink hair. Then familiar teal eyes that you loved to look into.
For a second neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.
Sae looked tired, travel-worn, down right exhausted, and somehow still the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.
The blanket fell off your shoulders.
"Sae?"
His expression softened immediately. And that was all it took before you practically launched yourself off the couch, crossing the apartment in seconds.
His bag hit the floor as you crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck.
His arms immediately circled your waist, holding you so tightly that you almost couldn't breathe. Not that you cared. He could suffocate you just like this and youâd be thankful. His face disappeared into your hair, taking deep breaths.
You felt his shoulders relax, like he'd finally stopped carrying some invisible weight.
For a long moment neither of you spoke, neither of you needed to.
You just stood there holding each other and making up for weeks apart.
Eventually he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you.
His thumbs brushed your cheeks, "You look tired." You scoffed, "You just got off an international flight. You look worse."
A rare smile appeared.
God, you'd missed that smile.
You stared at him. Then stared some more like heâd disappear if you looked away for too long.
A frown filled your face and Sae raised an eyebrow, "What?" You buried your face in his chest again, "I really hate when you leave." The confession slipped out before you could stop it. "I know it's your job and I know it's stupid and I know you'll always come back but I still hate it." The words were muffled against his shirt.
You felt him rest his chin on top of your head. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than usual, "It isn't stupid."
Your eyes stung unexpectedly, because when you told anyone else this theyâd say you were silly for thinking like that, "You think?"
He nodded, rubbing his thumb under your eye to catch the few fallen tears, "I know so."
You squeezed him tighter, "You've ruined me Sae Itoshi,â you sighed. "I didn't use to be like this."
A small laugh vibrated through his chest before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, then your temple, then the tip of your nose. And suddenly every lonely night felt worth it.
Because he was here.
Home.
And for the first time in weeks, the apartment didn't feel empty anymore.
three times truth or dare with best friend!gojo got heated
ê°á ⥠à»ê± "i dare you to drop an ice cube into your panties."
you scoff with laughter at his ridiculous suggestion, but you don't bother to question it, since this level of audacity and perversion is pretty typical from your best friend, gojo. espeically when it's the middle of the night, he's a little tipsy and you're both alone together in his room.
thus, instead of trying to contest his dare, you just shrug and smugly proclaim, "can't. not wearing any."
"then put some on."
narrowing your eyes at him , all you receive in return is a sly smirk. regularly, you would continue to whine about the 'rules' of truth or dare and how his request for you to put panties on would count as an additional dare, which is prohibited. but, it's like 3AM, and you're way too tired to argue with him. hence, you let out a prolonged groan and you heave yourself off your spot on his bed and trudge over to your bedroom to begrudgingly throw on a pair of panties.
however, you should've expected gojo to follow you and lean against your bedroom doorframe, unabashedly staring you down just as you're about to remove your pyjama shorts. "uh, some privacy, please?"
of course, he doesn't move, so you're forced to storm up to door and slam it shut right in his face. and now it's his turn to let out a prolonged groan.
once you're done sliding on a pair of underwear and putting your shorts back on, you shuffle your way over to the kitchen where gojo is already stood, smiling as he leans back against the kitchen counter. you're about to open the freezer, until gojo motions to the ice tray that he's already brought out for you.
"wow, thanks." you say, voice thick with sarcasm. you reach out to grab a ice cube, until gojo blocks you with his body and takes the tray for himself.
"no, let me do it." he hums, happily taking an ice cube and idly tossing it between his fingers. however, you're quick to snatch it from him and furiously shake your head, "nope! that's not part of the dare."
you slide your thumb under the waistband of your shorts and panties, and pull them forward from the front, exposing the mound of your pussy to the chilly night air. your eyes flutter shut, and your teeth grind together as you mentally prepare yourself for exacerbation of the cold sensation.
while your eyes are closed, gojo takes the oppertunity to lean forward and peer down at the exposed front section of your pussy. admiring it until you open your eyes again and snap, "stop that!" as you jerk away from him, turning around.
he laughs behind you. then, with a final deep breath, you courageously drop the ice cube into your panties. the icy touch immediately sends shivers up your spine, causing your whole body to tense up and let go of the waistband of your shorts. "shit." you hiss, awkwardly shuffling around in place in a futile attempt to cope with the fierce cold pressure against your cunt. but your jagged movements only cause the ice cube to slide further down your panties, until the cube is brushing against your sensitive clit. "shitshitshit!"
gojo practically keels over the kitchen counter with laughter. letting the hearty chortles rattle his lean frame, while simultaneously trying to keep his eyes wide open so he doesn't miss a second of your uncomfortable squirming.
" 'toruuu!" you whine, pressing your thighs together to prevent the ice cube from moving around any more. "how long do i need to keep this in for?" you say through laboured breaths.
"until it melts, sweetie." he says with an amused glint in his eyes, resting his elbows on the counter.
ïœĄïŸâąâê°á ⥠à»ê±ââą ïœĄïŸ
ê°á ⥠à»ê± "who in this room would you be most likely to hook-up with?"
you glance around his bedroom. mostly from confusion, as you're unsure if you heard him right. just like the last time you checked, it's only the two of you in his room â him, sat on his bed, and you, sat on his desk chair.
"satoru. you're the only other person in this room." you blink.
"that doesn't answer the question."
you roll your eyes. although you understand exactly what he is trying to do , you have the desire to play coy for a moment or two. "well, it's a stupid question. a waste of a 'truth'." you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
"well, you still need to answer." having been friends with you for so long, gojo has grown patience towards your persistent teasing and defiance. "it's the rules of the game."
"fine. you." you state bluntly.
"full sentence."
"ughhh." you toss your head back and groan dramatically, before continuing with furrowed brows, "the person in this i'd be most likely to hook up with is you, satoru."
"i'm flattered." he hummed, relaxing against the wall adjacent to his bed.
"don't be." you frown, turning your head away from him so he doesn't the flustered twitching of your undereye, "it was between you, myself and suguru." you mutter, motioning to the polaroid of gojo and geto that was displayed on the wall. "and just for the record, the only reason i chose you over him is because you are 3D."
"i think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me." he swipes an imaginary tear away from his lashline. then, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, staring at you lovingly, "you're the person in this room i'd most likely hook up with too."
you click your tongue, "thanks."
ïœĄïŸâąâê°á ⥠à»ê±ââą ïœĄïŸ
ê°á ⥠à»ê± "are you wearing underwear?"
you titter at how ludicrous of a question that is, then say, "yeah."
with missing a beat, he replies, "i dare you to prove it."
in an instant, a hot flush rises to your cheeks and your stomach flips at the mere thought of stripping your clothes off in front of your best friend. albeit, he's seen you nude before but those instances were either benign â like when you wanted an objective option on whether your tits were uneven â or totally by mistake â like when he "accidentally" walked in on you in the shower.
despite the embarrassment, you're eventually able to splutter, without making eye-contact, "that's not how this game works. i answered your truth so you can't immediately give me a dare."
"but how do i know it's the truth if you don't prove it?" he says in a soft manner, tilting his head, "because i think you're lying. no girls wear panties to bed."
"i do.." you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and slumping back against the wall next to your bed. maybe it was crazy to admit but you really were considering flashing your best friend. only because you knew it wouldn't be in a sexual way. nothing between you and gojo is ever sexual or romantic; yeah, sometimes things can get a little intimate, but it's always done in a playful and platonic manner. and this is no different, you reason. plus, your dare to gojo was far worse, so this would be easy in comparison and you don't want him to think of you as a chicken.
"why don't you stand up and i'll check for you?" gojo offers.
you huff, hopping up from the bed and standing in front of him, arms still crossed over your chest. with your eyes narrowed, you look down at him and scoff, "fine." you snatch his phone off the desk where he sat it and grip it firmly in your hand, "but i'm keeping ahold of this until your done."
"okay." he smirks, clicking his tongue and he gets off the chair and onto his knees in front of you. he looks up at you and thankfully he's wearing his blindfold, otherwise the intense eye-contact probably would've made your knees weak. he pinches the fabric at the edge of your shorts and snickers, "and you're actually letting me do this?"
"why not? we've done worse." you sigh, shrugging, looking away from him so he doesn't flustered twitching of your eyebrows. "plus i'm so tired that this has somehow become more laughable than awkward."
"you know that's what i like to hear." he hums, and you let your eyes flutter shut as your body tenses up in response to his nimble fingers tugging your shorts down and exposing your bare skin to the chilly air. "oh, look at that," his sultry tone sending shivers up your shine and causing your eyes to squeeze shut, "no panties. what did i say?"
before you have a chance to answer, not that you intended on saying anything, he answers himself, "girls don't wear underwear to bed." you feel his cold fingertips graze the hood of your pussy, then tracing your slit. since your eyes are tightly closed, you can't see the foolish grin spreading across his face at the hushed whimpers and cute noises you make at his touch. "someone wasn't telling the truth."
his hot breath warms your cunt as he leans in close. he skillfully uses his two thumbs to spreads your lips to allow himself to plant a firm kiss against your clit. he laughs again when you whine from pleasure and press your thighs together. then, he swiftly grabs your shorts and yanks them back up, giving you a slap on the ass before pushing you onto the bed.
your eyes shoot open when you stumble back and land on your soft sheets, gasping on impact. " 'toru!" you cry, adjusting your shorts to ensure their on properly. "what was that for?"
"fun." he shrugs happily, sitting back down on the chair and manspreading his legs. hence you're clearly able to see the buldge against the crotch of his grey sweats, almost like it's intentional. "and what're you staring at?"
you bite your bottom lip, hastily averting your eyes, "nothing."
"no, c'mon, tell me." you can virtually hear the sly smile in his voice, "i dare you to tell me.
"i'm looking at the wall." you spit defensively, cattily gesturing to the blank wall in front of you. technically you were telling the truth, since that was what you were, but only after he pointed out that you were staring at his erection.
"you're a dirty little liar." he says with contempt, though it's barely detectable since he's already trying to stifle a chuckle, "you lied about wearing underwear and you're lying now. when does it end?" he woes, shaking his head.
there's a beat of silence, wherein he stares at you with an amused smile playing on his lips, while you keep your eyes firmly planted on the wall and as far from his dick-print as possible.
"i think i get to give you a dare. since you lied the first time."
"i don't think that's a rule." you turn back to him, furrowing your brows together. although you weren't certain on the official rules of 'truth or dare', your friend did make a fair point â you blatantly lied when asked a 'truth' , so surely in a fair game that would result in a penalty. "but sure, go ahead."
"get on your knees."
you blink, shoulders stiffening as you perk up at the request, "that's it?" you tip your head to side, intently trying to analyse the coy yet cunning smirk playing on his lips. "just on my knees? nothing else?"
"just on your knees. on the floor." he shrugs as through it's nothing, and to you, it is. solely because you don't notice the hostile glint in his eyes as he watches you slowly get up from your spot on the bed, and kneel down on the floor. however, you do it right next to the bed, and before your knees hit the ground, he interupts, "come a bit closer."
when you respond by shooting him a bewildered expression, he hastily defends himself, "why're you acting like i'm some stranger?"
you don't answer that, instead you hop onto your feet and shuffle towards him until you're only a couple inches away from where he is sat. then, you drop down onto your knees in front of him, gazing up at his strong form slouched in the chair. his elbow is propped up on the arm rest, and his legs are still spread, giving you an obscenely clear view of the imprint of his erection on his sweats. and now that you're on your knees in front of him, it's positioned right in front of your face, so you need to keep your eyes firmly trained on his face so you don't give him the satisfaction of staring at his cock.
"so, am i done?" you spit.
"give it a second." holding eye-contact, he sneaks his hand under the waist of his trousers and slips his hardened length out. so casually; without an ounce of shame or even a wince of embarrassment, like revealing his cock to you was completely standard. albeit, you've been best friends for so long you have seen his dick before, but only in the form of subtle glances when changing in the same room, or that time the towel he was wearing around his hips after he came out the shower fell off while he was walking. although, when that happened, you were laughing so hard that your eyes blurred with tears and you hardly even got a good look.
regardless, now it's real and very deliberate. he holds it right in front of your face, daringly angling the tip closer to your face, and somehow there is an almost magnetic pull as you aimlessly drift forward, your lips slowly nearing his thick shaft.
when he notices your hynoptic fixation on his cock, practically salivating over him with the most hungry glint in your eyes, he can't help but chuckle, "you've done your dare. you can get up, if you want." you look at him in a pleading manner, which causes him to clarify, "or you can stay here." he hums, smiling as he cups your cheeks in his hands and swipes a couple of stray hairs away from your face, "you look perfect. right where you belong."
"shut up." you roll your eyes, attempting to turn your head away bashfully, but you're prevented from doing to by his firm grip on your jaw. " n' put your dick away."
gojo scoffs with laughter at the insincere rattle in your voice. since he's confident that you're just lying through your teeth again, he allows himself to tease you a little, "only if you give it a kiss first." he holds your face in place with one hand, while the other manoeuvres his cock closer to you, until his tip is brushing against your soft lips, his pre smudging your skin.
however, his grip on your jaw has relaxed, to the point where you could easily shake him off if you wanted to. yet, you don't. instead, you gaze up at him, maintaining eye-contact while you purse your lips and press a brief kiss against his shaft. he gently pulls his length away once your done, allowing you to lip his precum off your lips, shuddering slightly at the salty flavour.
"it's my turn, isn't it?" you ask in a small voice.
gojo doesn't look at you, focussing on wiping the remaining precum off his dick, presumably so he could comfortably stuff it back into his sweats. "yeah." he murmurs, still partially in a haze as the image of you kissing his tip remains seared into his mind.
"i dare you to fuck me."
his whole body stiffens momentarily, as his face drops into a subtly astonished expression. although that only lasts a second before a pleased grin spreads across his lips. it's took long enough, but it seems his perverted desires have finally rubbed off on you. "you're supposed to ask 'truth or dare' first."
"satoru." you whine.
"but alright." he hums, stroking his thick length in his fist, "come sit on it."
without missing a beat, you instantly spring up from your spot on the floor. about to remove your short yourself, a overeager gojo interupts by leaning forward and tugging them down on your behalf, revealing your bare pussy underneath. despite how he had already established you weren't wearing any panties, the abrupt sight of your naked cunt still knocked the air out of his lungs.
you kneel on the chair, facing him with your legs on either side of his. in one feverish motion, you align your hole with his tip and sink down on his thick length, but there wasn't enough determination in the world that would allow you to bottom out in one try. no, you were stuck with him halfway inside you, as you held onto his shoulders and writhed in agony at the stretch.
" 's too much!" you cried into his neck, arms wrapped around his shoulders and gripping his figure close to yours for even an ounce of comfort. "fuck, 'toru.."
as soon as gojo felt your walls clinging to him like your life depended on it, he knew he would never be able ot get enough of your pussy. he was officially addicted upon the first taste of your sweet hole. even when you're too tight to consume all of him, the part of him that was lucky enough to fit inside you so far was almost vibrating with delight. it's so unfortunate for him, because he was teetering on an orgasm before you've even really began. it's kinda pathetic how much he's been craving you, hence he has to bite down his bottom lip to keep it contained for now.
eventually you were able to reach his base, with help from his increased precum and your slick pussy. his fingers idly toyed with your clit during your whole journey down, while muttering under his breath about getting you wetter, but in reality, it was merely a poor distraction from his shamefully imminent climax.
"taking my cock so well. this pussy was fuckin' made for me." he huffed, big hands planted on your hips to keep you stable as you began to move on his cock, whining feebly as his length squeezed in and out of your spongy walls.
once your whimpered died down a little, he utilised his grip on your waist to bear down and drag you up and down his length. "let me, baby." he cooed. his fat cock stuffed into your poor cunt was so overwhelming, it left your knees weak and useless. hence, you were content to relax in his hold and allow him to control your movements. since that was the only feasible way you'd be able to keep taking his cock , since your legs were far too numb for you to do it yourself.
soon enough, thanks to his unrelenting arm strength, you were bouncing aggressively on his hardened shaft. he'd yank you upwards as though you were weightly then shove you right back down, until your pleading clit slapped against his base and his tip was prodding against your cervix. he was fierce and quick with it too; repeating the movements as fast as his arms would allow him, until your tits were jumping obscenely with each thrust. in fact, he could've gone faster. if it weren't for the intense grip your cunt had on his cock, and the friction it caused.
"aahâ nghh, ahh, 'toru!" you squeal, partially due to how forceful he being, and partially due to the hot bliss coursing through your tired body, his cock filling with you with satisfaction each time it stretches out your hole.
you may have thought you were struggling to deal with the pleasure, but that's only because you didn't know what was going on in gojo's head. "can't believe i've never fucked you like this befâ shit." he could hardly make it to the end of his sentence before another surge of heat wracked through him. god, he was so close. but he couldn't let himself cum too soon. you've only been riding him for about two minutes, and the last thing he'd want is for you to think that is how long he typically lasts. or rather, how short he lasts.
because it's untrue. with other girls, he can go for upwards of fifteen minutes before his first ejaculation and then go for hours after the fact. but with you it's different. you've got the tightest hole he's ever had the priveledge of experiencing, and the prettiest pussy that he almost feels guilty for stuffing. oh, and your sweet moans; it's unlike anything he's every heard before â so breathy yet almost melodic. like a pornographic siren song.
and the most obvious reason he was ready to bust so early: it's you. his best friend who he's been lusting after from the moment he hit puberty. and his desire for you only worsened after y'all moved in together for college. but he could never have you because he was always too afraid to ask. which was unlike him â usually he's quite confident and assured when it comes to these things, but with you it's different. it's always been different. he hides his real feelings under playful flirtation (that you assume is platonic, but it never is) because the idea of confessing to you and being faced with rejection makes his stomach churn with fear. genuinely he wants you so bad that if you were to deny him, he might combust. therefore, he finds it easier to just hide his attraction to you behind the facade of pseudo-platonic affection. and deal with his repressed feelings by jerking off to your selfies and instagram profile before bed.
but now, everything is so real. the way your limp body is pressed against his and your tight pussy is squeezing his cock. all it takes is a whiny moan of "toruuu~ mpph, i'm so close." to send him over the edge, as his dick twitches and starts spilling inside you.
he keeps a firm grip on you as he climaxes, and loses control as he wildly jerks you up and down on his lap, forcing you to take his cock at unreal speeds, due to the friciton between your walls and his length being lessened by the hot seed that spurts into you.
"keep going. fuck, take it all. so good f' me." he rambles, eyes rolling back in his head. eventually, after a prolonged period of ecstacy, he comes down from his high and when his vision clears, he sees you staring at him, face inches from his. he offers you a weak smile, and shifts slightly in his seat. since his cock is still buried inside you, his action cause you to mewl slightly.
"that was quick." you tease, trying your best to suppress a smile.
gojo scoffs, averting his eyes yet awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "because it's cold in here. i usually go for longer." he says in the most unbothered tone he can muster.
"i don't believe you." you shrug, but just as satoru opens his mouth to defend himself, you interject, "you're going to have to prove it to me sometime."
gojo unfurrows his brows. originally he was frowning when he thought you were going to continue to take the piss out of him, however when he hears your proposition, his lips can't help but pull into a smirk, "needy slut." he hisses, slipping his finger down to rub the pad of his middle finger against your clit, chuckling when you moan and jerk away from his touch, "fine. i'll fuck you tomorrow too, if that's what you want." again, he's such a good actor that he's able to speak as though he's not the one who is desperate to feel your insides again.
"mhm." you nod, choking on your own giggles as satoru continously tries to reach for your clit no matter how you're sat on his lap.
"i'll need buy some condoms first." he muses, largely distracted by the playful little cat-and-mouse game between his hand and your sensitive clit. however, it draws to an abrupt end when you freeze, after he says, "unless you want to take this relationship from friends to co-parents."
summary: once in a lifetime you'll switch bodies with your soulmate and see the world through their eyes.
sukuna is initially frustrated when he's plunged into darkness in the body of a weak and blind woman, only to discover that there's more to her than he was expecting, leaving him on a mission to locate the shogi-playing courtesan whose soul called out to his.
word count: 11k
content: 18+ mdni, smut, soulmate au, heian era, initially rude sukuna, soft!sukuna, true form sukuna, courtesan reader, sickness, blindness, depiction of violence and death, happy ending, hurt/comfort, honestly its mainly fluff, devoted sukuna, piv, cunnilingus
a/n: after doing my satoru soulmate au i desperately wanted to do one for sukuna so here it is! inspired somewhat by komugi and meruem in hxh and ALSO by lakan and fengxian in apothecary diaries (as someone requested that from me!)
At one point in every personâs life, they will awaken in the body of another.
They will spend their day seeing through strange eyes, living out hours as a person they may have never met, trapped within their new form until sleep takes them and they are released back into their own body.
Those meagre hours are the only chance a person will have to find their other other half, to learn all they can about the body theyâve awoken in. Thereâs no second chance, no opportunity to swap for a second time.
If one cannot locate their soulmate after the day theyâve spent as them, they can find no further help. All they can hope for, is that they might stumble across their destined lover by mere chance one day.
Or, that their beloved did a better job than they did at piecing together the puzzle.
Sukuna found himself in anotherâs body in his mid-twenties, awakening one morning in complete darkness, even though heâd been certain his eyes were open. It was a strange feeling at first, a resignation to a suspicion heâd held all his life that there was no destined person for him, giving in to the belief that heâd spend a day floating in nothingness with no other half for his soul to cling to.
His assumption was broken swiftly, at the realisation that he still held some manner of awareness even if his sight was impaired. There was a breeze blowing against his body, chatter sounding off in the distance, and soft sheets were pressing up against skin which surely wasnât his.
This person, whoever they were, had a body that was exhausted. He ached in places heâd never ached before, his shoulders and upper back straining, like their owner had been carrying a weight beyond their capability. He felt desperately weak in that form, suddenly aware that he only had a human number of limbs to control, and lacked the strength and size he was used to commanding.
In the darkness clouding his vision, he was surprised to find that the blackness wasnât as deep as heâd originally thought, able to make out fuzzy shapes in the dark which he could only assume made up his surroundings. His hand reached for his eyes, setting his lips into a grim line at the confirmation they were open.
His destined lover was blind.
Disappointment settled into his chest. He had never taken much stock in soulmates in the first place, didnât really believe in love, but this just furthered his confirmation that the whole matter was a farce. He found respect for the strong - strength was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and yet here he was, in the body of a blind woman.
A feeble little thing hardly able to fend for herself.
What good was she to a man like Sukuna?
A knock on the door startled him. âAre you awake? The madam wants me to help you get ready.â
Sukuna said nothing, trying to figure out why it felt like your body wanted to draw in on itself, your pulse quicking in a seemingly innate reaction to the voice at the door.
âPlease, I know youâve been ill but heâs been calling every day for the past week, the madam doesnât want to keep him waiting any longer. Heâs been bringing forth all manner of threat, and if youâre not careful heâll buy you out. I know that isnât what you want. Just let me tend to you and allow him a visit. Keep his temper at bay.â
Sukuna frowned, attempting to piece together what was happening. It was hard without the visual clues of his surroundings, but based on the snippet of conversation he concluded that you were likely a courtesan of some form. Once again, his view of you, and the soulmate system in general, dropped through the floor.
Blind and a whore.
Perfect.
âOne moment.â He called out, taken aback by the lovely feminine voice that fell from his lips. It was a soft, delicate sound, one which wouldnât sound out of place accompanied with a harp. He found himself shocked at how much he enjoyed it, considering saying something else just to hear it again.
Finding the door proved to be a more difficult task than heâd been expecting. Heâd already stumbled standing up from your bed, thrown off by his lack of vision and by feet that were ridiculously small compared to what he was used to. His centre of gravity felt all wrong, and his body felt generally unbalanced without his lower set of arms.
Moving at a snail's pace, he made it across the room, impressed that he didnât run into anything on his journey over. He was grateful for the shadowy outlines present in your visionless gaze, certain that the situation would be made harder without even that as a guide.
Fumbling for the handle, he slid open the door. âMorning. Oh honey, you look like a ghost.â A hand pressed against his skin, and he was ushered over to another part of the room, grateful for the guidance. There was the sound of a chair being moved. âTake a seat.â
Sukuna hesitated, not quite sure where the chair was. He reached out nonchalantly with his hand, trying to feel for it while the other womanâs focus was elsewhere, seemingly rifling through a bag of something. Able to just about make out a black splodge in the centre of his vision, Sukuna took a seat, only to thud down onto the floor.
It hurt. It hurt significantly more than pain Sukuna was used to enduring. Heâd experienced all manner of injury - heâd had his blood and guts pouring out onto the floor in the midst of a fight, but somehow this was worse. How fragile was this body of yours? He was glad that he wasnât born as some weak human, grateful that the abominable aspects of his body increased his strength rather than weakened it.
How could you live like this?
âMy lady?â The woman seemed immediately panicked, reaching down and easily hoisting you up by the arm, aiding Sukuna onto the chair. âIâm sorry, you usually tell me you donât need assistance, I wasnât expecting-â she cut herself off for a moment, leaving Sukuna in silence and struggling to read the room with no visual cues. âYou donât seem like yourself at all this morning. Youâre being very quiet.â
Sukuna said nothing, certain that he could hear the hint of a smile in the womanâs tone.
It was said that when soulmates swapped bodies, you could not under any circumstance tell someone that you were a different inhabitant to usual, else the spell would be broken and youâd both be immediately sent home.
It was an option Sukuna had contemplated the moment the woman walked in, eager to return to his own healthy form. However, he was also a man of great curiosity and it wasnât like he had much going on at his estate that day anyway. So he opted for silence, figuring heâd at least see, or hear, how the day played out.
There was no harm in that.
Regardless, the woman had seemingly sensed it immediately based on her sudden change of demeanor, but being likely as aware of the rules as Sukuna was, she kept her suspicions silent.
âIt's Officer Sugawara whoâs set to see you today,â she explained, soft hands running through your hair with a comb, giving Sukuna a shiver of pleasure. âYou usually play shogi with the guy for a while and let him get drunk. Heâs a proud man whoâs desperate for a legitimate win, so you always give him your best and he refuses to give up until heâs too pissed to think anymore. So be on your best game, or he might want to pass his time in another way.â
The warning was clear and Sukuna found himself disgusted. If that man tried to lay a single hand on you while he was inhabiting your body, heâd make sure Sugawara wouldnât walk out of the establishment alive.
Fortunately, Sukuna was an avid shogi player. He held a great love for the game and was self-assured where his skill was concerned. No one in his estate could beat him, so he was certain he could beat some Officer of the Shogun.
Although, heâd never played it blind - a fact that mildly concerned him.
He hoped the pieces were skillfully made with deep indents, else heâd be completely lost.
âEven though youâre usually talkative with me, youâre not all that chatty with regulars, so itâll be fine if you stay quiet. On account of you not feeling yourself and all,â she said with a knowing giggle.
It took an ungodly amount of time for that woman to get you ready, and Sukuna wondered how you could bear experiencing such a thing day after day. It seemed such a waste to have so much effort devoted to doing your hair and make-up, and dressing you up, when you couldnât even see the end result.
For all you knew you could look like a clown.
But Sukuna quickly became certain that wasnât the case when he was led into another room, your helper grasping his arm in a steadying manner and making sure he was settled down on a pillow before introducing him to a man sitting opposite him. Sugawara wasted no time with greetings, letting out a gasp of awe at your radiant appearance and reaching out to kiss your hand.
Sukuna wanted to reel away at the feeling but remained still all the same. He hoped he didnât have too much of a scowl on his face.
Even if he didnât have any interest in you, he didnât really want to ruin the life of some random blind girl. He loved cruelty, but even for him that felt like an unnecessary slight to a person who was supposed to hold the other half of his heart.
âYou look gorgeous. Not sickly at all, might I add. I hope the madam hasnât been telling lies.â
You were sick - outside of the blindness - Sukuna could feel it. At first heâd brushed off your frailty as something normal for puny little humans, but since rising from your bed heâd become aware that your quivering legs, aching bones and hummingbird heart were far from normal.
âI havenât been well,â he said simply.
âOh you poor thing, it's always the most beautiful ones who suffer the most.â
Sukuna found himself wondering what you looked like. He had a vague knowledge of Official Sugawara - he wasnât an ugly man, certainly not one lacking in prospects by any means. He was powerful in his position in the government, and wasnât the type who would visit some woman out of pity.
You mustâve been genuinely gorgeous to earn such affection from him.
It was a shame Sukuna would never know.
He wouldnât look for you once he was back in his own body. Heâd move on with his life and that would be that, leaving this day as nothing more than some distant dream.
The games of shogi went by quickly, and Sukuna found that it was easy to slip into your body without arousing suspicion. Once heâd gotten over the original barrier of having to feel each piece for their indents as he picked them up, he fell easily into the flow of it all.
This man across from him seeked little conversation once the games had started, and Sukuna was pleased at how well he was playing that afternoon. He didnât let the man win once and, as your attendant had mentioned, Suguwara filled himself up with more and more drink. It felt nice to play someone outside of his estate, most of his servants were too afraid to face Sukuna in any sort of test.
It was equally nice to completely destroy a government official with his skill. He was certain this man was having the worst game of his entire life, unaccustomed to this treatment from the lovely courtesan heâd frequent.
But it was at the end of the seventh game, when Sukuna was feeling at his highest, that a disastrous hit would come to his ego.
âYouâre really off your game today. I see you really arenât feeling well,â Sugawara said. There was the sound of shuffling fabric, as if the man had leant forward.
âWhat?â Sukuna asked, the low disbelief coming out strange in your small voice.
âYour plays are much sloppier than usual. It feels like youâre going easy on me, given you usually destroy me before I can even think about what to do next. Today youâve been giving me proper games. I donât like it. You know I hate being pitied.â
Sukuna had to stop his mouth from falling agape.
He wasnât playing bad games by any means, on the contrary, he was certain that he was playing better than he had in a while, happy to have a new opponent for once. Was this man really saying that you, the normal you, was more skilled at shogi than he was? He really found that hard to believe.
What would some blind courtesan know of tactics?
âPerhaps youâve simply improved,â Sukuna mumbled bitterly, unwilling to accept that your mastery was greater than his.
Sugawara laughed. âHow polite of you, my dear. I can assure you that isnât the case, and we both know it.â There was some shuffling, and Sukuna sensed that the man was climbing to his feet. It was frustrating to have such limited vision, and he was glad to know that heâd wake up the following day able to see the world once more - he couldnât imagine living like that all the time. âIâll leave you to rest. When I return in a few days you best have returned to form, or perhaps the nature of our meetings will need to change.â
A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, wet and clammy against the silk you were draped in. Sukuna wasnât sure if the disgust was born from his own thoughts on the matter, or from an impulsive response from your body. From your attendantâs words it was clear that you would never sleep with the man, likely keeping your shogi skills sharp to ensure he never won.
Once he was gone, Sukuna sat there in silence, thinking on the manâs parting words.
Were you really so talented?
Part of him wanted to convince himself that heâd been playing worse than usual on account of not being able to see the board, making it difficult for him to think out moves in advance, taking more time than normal while he grazed the pieces with his fingers.
But deep in his soul he knew that wasnât the case.
Heâd played expertly, and still that man knew his opponent wasnât the real you. All on account of how amateur Sukunaâs ability had seemed compared to yours.
And as his day drew to a close in your body, he realised that he had to know. He had to play you, had to see firsthand just how dramatically your skill exceeded his. He wouldnât believe it until heâd seen it.
The soulmate thing didnât matter.
But he needed to meet with you all the same.
Just to sate his interest. That was all.
â
Months had passed since the day youâd swapped with your soulmate. Since the morning youâd awoken to a world of light of colour youâd never seen before, and would never see again.
It was a day youâd never be able to forget - the image of the grand estate youâd awoken in seared permanently into your mind, just like the face of your soulmate who had stared back at you in a bronze mirror. Youâd gazed upon his body for longer than you should admit to, wondering for a brief moment if youâd misunderstood how humans looked.
That thought didnât remain for long. It took no expert to understand that the man youâd been paired with was something unique - the very four armed monster who had half of Japan living in fear.
And as such, you wished you could forget your experience in his body, wished you could see anything but his oddly charming face, because your promised beloved was a monster of the highest calibre. But with only one singular day of vision under your belt, what youâd seen wasnât so easily displaced, and you found yourself thinking of him often with a longing that you knew to be wrong.
You had told no one of the experience, not even your handmaid, who had outright asked what your body swap experience had been like, what your soulmate had been like, claiming that whoever they were had presented themselves as rather reserved when possessing your body. Youâd brushed her off with a shrug, claiming him to be some soldier and nothing more.
No one could know the truth. If they knew you to have any link to such a terrible man they might view you as an associate, and someone deserving of death for something you hadnât asked for.
The workings of fate seemed strange to you. Was it not enough punishment to be born blind? Why would you also be paired with a monster who seemed to view the human race with general disdain? You were certain he cared little for love, his servant had made that clear when you were in his body, so any hopes of having a soulmate had been stolen from you as a result of this pairing.
Part of you wondered if a man so vile as him might even take things a step further and track you down to put an end to your life, insulted by fate to suggest that it could control him in any capacity. Perhaps he would be further insulted to be paired with someone so damaged rather than some untarnished beauty.
Youâd always heard he held great hatred for weakness.
Even so, despite your fear and desire to conceal yourself from him, you couldnât forget him, couldnât stop the flicker of longing in your chest you were certain all people held for their destined lovers. Because while he was unquestionably a monster, with a throne of skulls you had witnessed through his very eyes, he also seemed to be more than that.
He was a man of great loneliness, living in grand halls with only a handful of servants for company - and all but one of them would scuttle out of the way when he approached. He seemed to hold a great love for art, with his estate packed with paintings and tapestries and great vases, all kept in pristine condition. For a cannibal, he seemed to take great pride in the cleanliness of his surroundings, in the neat nature of his gardens and springs.
Even in his own appearance, he seemed to take great care, for there was no denying him to be a handsome man even with his unique features. He had a voice to match that beauty, one that you could hardly peel from your mind any more than you could forget his image.
His body was hard to maneuver, too big and confusing to control his many hanging limbs. In a way, it felt akin to your blindness, something different to the way humans were built to be, leaving him to struggle with an issue that no one else could relate to. You wondered how it had been for him in childhood - if heâd felt as isolated and scared as you had to know that everyone else was normal in a way youâd never been.
You pitied him, even through all his sins. You felt you could understand at least a piece of him from a day buried within the confines of his skin.
But still, you would never reach for him - wouldnât poke the bear even if you could understand why it might bite. You were certain that someone like him would be unwilling to hear you out, unwilling to love or reflect on how he became the way he was - he would swipe your head from your shoulders just like everyone else, and that would be that.
So you would stay away, keep your dreams of him locked deep within your chest, and accept that distance was for the best.
There was more to life than soulmates.
Unfortunately, that choice wasnât yours alone to make.
The madame had knocked on your door early that morning, with the golden light of the sun only just starting to peek in through your window. Lately youâd been having longer lie-ins and taking less clients as the cold of winter gripped the region. Along with the blindness, youâd been born with a particularly feeble body as a result of complications with your mother during her pregnancy, ailments which were always worse for you in the colder months.
Your bones strained as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, calling for the woman to enter. As much as you longed to slip back into your dream of red eyes peering back at you with fiery desire, you were still beholden to the will of your employer, even in your months of weakness.
âHow are you feeling, my dear?â She asked, as she slipped in through the door. You felt her weight dip the bed as she took a seat beside you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your shoulder.
âMornings are always the worst but I can manage once Iâm up and about. Has Sugawara come calling again?â Most regulars were understanding enough of your condition, and those that werenât would generally be chased off by the madame or unloaded onto another of the courtesans. Sugawara was one of the few that generally wouldnât accept such treatment, with only eyes for you.
It didnât matter too much since the man only ever wanted to play shogi, and that was manageable enough even on your worst days. It seemed that he had no intention of laying with you until heâd beat you in a game fair and square, claiming that if that ever happened heâd buy you out and take you home for he wouldâve earned your heart.
That talk always made you uncomfortable, for you had little interest in the man, but you were more than certain he had no chance at ever defeating you at shogi, and could therefore never lay claim to you - assuming he kept his word.
âNot SugawaraâŠâ There was hesitation in her voice. âWeâve received a request for our finest shogi player to be sent to the mayorâs home this evening. Apparently the other courtesan houses have received the same request.â
âI didnât think the mayor cared much for shogi.â
Again, there was a moment of silence. âNo, he doesnât. A rather unwanted guest has taken up residence in his home, and this is the demand that has come of it.â Immediately your blood ran cold, thoughts drifting away from the madameâs continuing chatter to the red eyes that sat so prominently in the darkness of your mind.
There was no question in your mind as to who this guest was.
And to call for shogi players had you certain he was looking for you. Would he execute you when you walked into a room so clearly lacking in vision? Put an immediate end to the one person who could potentially stir his cold heart if fate were to be believed?
It seemed like the only reasonable explanation
The request to send another in your place died on the tip of your tongue as you once again tuned in to what the madame was saying. â...make sure youâre in top form, Iâve heard any who lose to him are immediately disposed of, but Iâm sure that man will be no match for you.â
You wouldnât send another to face their death. You were the only courtesan in the house who was any good at shogi, anyone else would certainly perish. This was a meeting dictated by fate and you had no opportunity to run from it. You would face him head on and deal with your death graciously, greet your end alone in the dark just like everything else youâd ever faced.
âIâll do my best,â you said to the madame, and that was the final moment you had for yourself, your sacrifice sealed by your words.
The rest of the morning was spent in a frenzied rush, dressing you up and perfecting your makeup, turning you into a sparkling beauty ahead of your presentation to a monster. Based on the quiet nature of your handmaid, the experience felt more like she was dressing your corpse for burial.
Neither of you spoke such a thing aloud, but tears dripped from sightless eyes all the same when she led you out to the carriage, the madam trailing behind her, sending you off with a soft farewell filled with a sense of finality.
â
Sukuna had undergone an annoying few months.
Steadily, he had made his way, region by region, up to the north of Japan in search of a blind shogi player whose skill allegedly eclipsed his own. In each area, he would call upon all shogi-playing courtesans to meet with him and join him in a game, in the hopes that one day it would be you sitting across from him.
So far, heâd been unsuccessful, and had left a growing pile of bodies and burnt villages in his wake, utterly irritated that the thing he was seeking still evaded his grasp. No one had beaten him. A few had come close but none of them had been blind, so he could be certain that they werenât you.
He was beginning to wonder if youâd gone into hiding somewhere, forsaking your courtesan life entirely in a bid to avoid him. It wouldnât surprise him - youâd been in his body, youâd seen he was a monster, a fragile little thing like you was probably terrified at the idea of ever crossing his path.
Either way, heâd still persevere. Heâd kill every shogi player if that was what it took to get to you.
Heâd recently found his way into the mountainous region of Miyagi, where winter was in full spring. Taking up residence in the mayorâs home in one of the more populous towns in the prefecture, he once again started his usual process of gathering the shogi players. Word spread fast and droves of them appeared swiftly, waiting to be called before him.
It went much as usual, with boring girls presenting themselves before him and providing him with equally boring games of shogi. These people were painfully predictable with no appreciation for the art of the game - really it was a gift for him to steal their lives from them, because he couldnât imagine living while being so pitifully unskilled.
The pool of Miyagi courtesans was gradually running dry and Sukuna was preparing himself for another disappointing journey further north when his luck finally shifted.
He knew heâd found you the moment you walked in through the door.
Youâd stumbled in meekly, eyes averted down to the floor as you bowed low and shuffled towards the centre of the room. You were taking care not to raise your head for him to look upon, and he quickly realised you were making your best effort to conceal your blindness from him, like you could keep your identity secret that way.
It was a futile attempt, for the very atmosphere around you felt charged, his heart picking up inexplicably at the very sight of you.
To say you were beautiful was an understatement. Everything about you was gorgeous, from your soft hair to the striking intensity of your unseeing eyes. You wore the finest silks and they hung off you well, complimenting your figure. He found himself eager to touch you, to rid you off your lovely gown and have his fingers against your smooth skin.
But that wasnât the reason he had come, and he would play you before entertaining any other matter.
âSit,â he ordered, taking great amusement in the shiver that seemed to run through you at the sound of his voice.
You dropped to your knees on the cushion before the board, hands pressing against the edge of the table. It was the first chance he got to take a proper look at your eyes, expecting them to be clouded over, but taken aback by the lovely colour your irises still held beneath that mist.
âYouâre blind.â He observed aloud, taking note of the way your teeth caught your lower lip anxiously.
âI see more than enough,â your response was guarded.
He hummed, a sly grin settling on his face. Idly, he wondered if you could sense it, because you seemed to tense up a little, fidgeting across from him in a way his traitorous brain seemed to register as endearing. âIs that so? Do you see enough to know my strategy before we commence? Or will you disappoint me like the others?â
âYou tell me.â
Your words had his heart stirring against his will, impressed by your serenity before him, still sitting up straight and calm despite the fear he could sense within you. You were a woman who held confidence despite it all, harboured strength even in the face of your obvious weaknesses. He wondered what you were thinking, if you believed he was there to execute you for the mere transgression of being his soulmate.
It wasnât a foolish assumption.
He would kill you without a second thought if you were uninteresting to him.
But heâd reserve that judgement until after you had played. He had been promised someone exceptional and that was what he wished to see, anything less and your blood would stain the floor just like every other woman who had sat before him. Would you still be so calm if you could see the bodies littering the room? He assumed not.
He wondered if you hated him, if you cursed fate itself to be paired with a man like him. Nothing about you gave anything away, all your focus fixed on the board in front of you, your hands moving steadily against the wood of the board, as if centring yourself.
âShall we begin?â He asked.
âYes.â
Sukuna couldnât quite comprehend what had transpired in that first game he played against you.
He had approached things in much the same manner that he always would when playing shogi - opening strong and attempting to completely overwhelm his opponent, and yet somehow he found opportunities snatched from him at every turn.
Nothing seemed to catch you off guard. Any attempted play was greeted with an easy answer from you, as though you were battling a child. You were always three steps ahead of him, never hesitating in the shifting of a piece, moving with a certainty that had him transfixed.
He found that he couldnât draw his eyes away from you, his struggle on the board forgotten at the realisation heâd been well and truly defeated. There was no point in struggling further - you had swatted him aside in the way that he usually defeated others, and you had done it with no glee or brag, nothing more than passive indifference once the games finally came to an end.
Your shoulders were raised, as if awaiting something you wouldnât be able to see coming. A strike from him, perhaps? Or the neat removal of your head from your shoulders? The same fate of all others heâd played across the last few months.
But he wasnât in the position to do anything at that moment, lashes fluttering as he stared at you, his heart hammering against his ribcage.
There had been no lie told about your skill - on the contrary, you had exceeded his expectations spectacularly. He wanted to play you again and again, wanted to witness the beauty of the way you played, wished to spend hours lost deep in thought considering how he could even begin to pick you apart in a match.
He could spend years sitting across you, gazing upon your lovely form while you worked away in silence with such unquestionable mastery.
No wonder Sugawara had been disappointed in Sukunaâs ability. He couldnât hold a candle to what you were.
âHow?â He asked, unable to think of another word to offer.
Your head was still lowered, eyes fixed elsewhere. He wished youâd look at him, allow him a clearer view of your face, but it occurred to him that such a request may not be easily granted with your lack of vision. You would never be able to lock eyes with each other - it would be something entirely meaningless for you.
âYou arenât all that good,â you spoke softly, a smile playing on your lips.
Sukuna disagreed with your sentiment, considering heâd never been beaten before, but perhaps youâd consider all his previous opponents to be genuinely pitiful at the game.
âSo, will you take my life now? Or is that reserved for the losers?â You asked.
âTo take the life of someone I could not best would be cowardly and pointless,â he said with a snort. âHow would I ever grow to be better than you if I extinguished you from the world? Donât be foolish. We will play again.â
And again you played.
Game after game until the sun began to rise in the sky, and Sukuna could sense exhaustion drifting through your fragile form. You were shivering from the cold, and he had Uraume bring in a robe to wrap around you, keenly aware of how sickly you seemed to look beneath all the beauty. You were setting up the board for your tenth match when Sukuna finally put an end to things.
âEnough. I would take no joy in defeating an exhausted opponent.â He rose to his feet, stretching as he moved. He wasnât keen on remaining still for long periods of time, but you seemed accustomed to it, staying deathly still upon your cushion, uncertainty evident in your posture.
âThen, you will send me to my home?â You asked.
âNo.â The word escaped him before he could stop it.
He did not wish for you to go anywhere, lest you slip from his grasp never to be found again. It was because he wanted to play you more, thatâs what he told himself, but there was more to it than that, and in his soul he knew it.
He never wanted the image of you on your knees before him to slip away, never wanted to lose the pleasurable feeling of warmth that swelled in his chest with you there within his gaze.
âYouâll accompany me to my home, and weâll play until Iâm satisfied.â
â
Weeks had passed since youâd arrived at Sukunaâs estate in the Hida Mountains.
Youâd been given no time to bid goodbye to the women at the only home youâd ever known, swept off in a carriage down south where you had to relearn your surroundings in a totally new environment.
Of course, it wasnât the first time youâd been in the estate, but that experience made little impact on the ease of traversing around with no vision. You had to move slowly, fingers brushing on blurry objects shadowed in the darkness, hoping you didnât trip over something or walk into a screen door.
For the most part, you were left to your own devices. Sukuna had spoken little to you on the journey home, opting to ride on his horse rather than in the carriage with you, and heâd been equally elusive in his own estate, leaving you in isolation for days at a time.
You couldnât complain, for your days were spent in peace and serenity.
You would take long walks in the breeze of his garden, have his servants read aloud to you, and practice playing the erhu. On days where it was particularly cold and the chill seeped into your bones, you would remain in the grand bed he had provided and find greater comfort than you ever had in the old bed youâd laid upon in the courtesan house.
The only obligation you ever had to fulfill were shogi games. And during the times that he wasnât absent from the estate, those would take place every evening, in Sukunaâs own private quarters.
It was an odd decision, considering that the servants played shogi out in the garden, where a proper table was set up for that purpose. But it seemed that Sukuna took care in ensuring your meetings were private - a decision you didnât dare read into too deeply.
You didnât dare read into any of his behaviour too deeply, lest you rip your own heart from your chest.
That first meeting with him had been like nothing youâd ever experienced - genuine desire overcoming you at the deep tone of his voice. Even knowing that he could cause your death with little effort, you couldnât bury the lust within you, a fire that only burned stronger with each encounter with him.
It was hard to hold it together, to pretend that you wouldnât fling yourself into his arms given the chance, but you tried all the same, keeping yourself distant and cold, like you didnât dream of him between your legs each night, imagining the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings against your ear.
Whether he felt the effect to the same extent you did, you werenât sure. You were certain youâd never know. His interest in you was surrounding shogi, and shogi alone.
One evening, you were sitting across from him having played a handful of games, finding victory had fallen into your hands even more easily than normal. Sukuna seemed distracted by something, the sound of fidgeting settling in your ears. He hadnât moved to start a new game, and based on the shadowy shapes in your vision, you could only assume he was leaning forward upon the table, bringing him close enough for his breath to fan your face.
âI killed today,â he said. Those were the first words heâd spoken to you that evening - you always followed his example with conversation, if he was feeling chatty you would indulge him, if he wished for silence you would give him that too.
You werenât exactly sure where he was going with that statement, nor were you certain what type of response he was seeking, so you offered him a hum of acknowledgement and little more. You didnât wish to think of the death that stained his hands, but nor did it build your animosity towards him.
To some extent you could understand lashing out at the world when you were someone so desperately lonely as he was. Part of you believed that if you hadnât been so frail perhaps youâd lash out at the world for your own condition. His primary servant had told you heâd been despised throughout his life, and when you find only cruelty in humans it's difficult to cling to kindness.
Sukuna wasnât so simple as a mere monster. Youâd understood that in the day youâd spent in his body, and had only further confirmed it by the intelligence he displayed when youâd speak over games of shogi. He had a great admiration for art and skill, and had seemed rather taken when youâd recited poetry, responding with verses of his own.
He was a multi-faceted man, and much of what you saw only seemed to further your attraction to him, even knowing it was wrong, even knowing youâd be hated for it. For once, you felt youâd found someone who understood what it was like to be you, to be cut off from the easy lives lived by most others.
A soul that entwined so perfectly with yours, even if heâd never be aware of such a thing.
âDo you wish to know who I killed?â He asked.
âI know few people, my lord. I doubt a name would mean anything to me.â
âThis one might. Iâve heard youâre familiar with Officer Sugawara? Heâs one of the Shogunâs men?â
Thoughts of your regular flickered through your mind. If you were being honest with yourself, you were glad to not have to see him anymore - him or any of the other clients youâd been forced to take. Courtesan life had been difficult for you, forced into it thanks to the conditions of your birth and kept there by a disability that made it hard to escape the life for something better.
Life in Sukunaâs estate had been easier, especially as the weeks passed and you grew more comfortable in the belief that Sukuna wasn't going to steal your life from you. Youâd lived in fear of Sugawara buying you out, of being forced to live like some doll in the house of a terribly boring man whose voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to your ears.
âI know him.â
âKnew him, would be more apt. His body lies at the foot of the mountain.â Sukuna spoke matter-of-factly. âHe came to claim you from me. I refused and we couldnât reach an amicable agreement, so I dealt with it another way.â
You werenât sure how to react, struggling to process the words. That Sugawara would follow you down to Hida already came as a surprise, you hadnât known how deep his devotion ran. But somehow, you found yourself rather taken by Sukunaâs decision, by the certainty in his choice to keep you.
To kill a man whose death could cause him issues with the Shogun might as well have been an outright confession of love.
Sugawaraâs death meant little to you. Men like that died all the time, and they saw women as little more than pretty objects to own. Sugawara had seen you as an impressive party trick, a clever cat rather than a human with depth and desires of her own. You hadnât wanted to be his, wouldnât have liked for Sukuna to surrender you to him.
âAre you irritated with me? When I controlled your body you seemed repulsed at his presence. Perhaps you have a heart too soft for blood and death.â
âNo- I-â You hesitated. âDid you do this to protect me?â
There was silence for a moment, and you longed to see his facial expression, but were forced to settle for the hint of confusion in his tone. âOf course. Iâve protected you since bringing you here. You can hardly protect yourself.â
You couldnât find it in you to be offended - heâd been in your body, he knew of your frailty better than anyone.
âWhy? Just because you enjoy shogi so much?â
âSomewhat. Though I must confess, lately I have been losing interest in the game. I feel Iâve come up against an insurmountable wall.â Panic filled you immediately, mind running at a million miles a minute as you analysed his statement. If he was growing bored of playing would he cast you aside? What use did he have for you if not shogi?
But then again, why would he kill Sugawara if he was moments from disposing of you?
âPerhaps it is the fault of my own discipline, for Iâve found it hard to focus on the game for quite some time now.â He hesitated, and you found yourself flinching at the feeling of a soft hand caressing your cheek, leaning into it once you overcame the initial shock of touch. âIt is difficult when you have a beautiful woman sitting across from you. Itâs even harder when my soul calls for you whenever you're near, drowning out any thoughts I might gather of strategy.â
âOh.â You werenât sure what to say, wondering if you should pinch yourself, for many of your dreams centred themselves around such a confession. But the touch had never felt so real before, large fingers brushing against the soft skin of your face.
âI wonder if Iâd be more focussed if I admitted fate might make some sense after all. I have never denied myself anything before now, and Iâm tired of denying myself you. You have captivated me thoroughly, and I believe the hole in my chest was carved out to allow you to one day settle there.â
The words were by far the most romantic statement anyone had ever uttered to you. In your time as a courtesan youâd heard plenty of cheesy and affectionate lines, ones youâd brush off and forget by the time the client was done with you. Sukunaâs words would burrow into your heart and remain there for as long as you drew breath.
Could anyone fault you for loving a monster who would speak such beauty to you? Could you be hated for finding one who had been cursed by the world just like you had?
âI have no care for the Shogunâs men,â Sukuna continued, âin my eyes they are little more than flies most of the time, an annoying thing to be ignored unless they brush too close. Would it amuse you to know I killed Sugawara out of jealousy? To hear that my chest tightened at the idea of you being taken from my side?â
âBecause you enjoy having such a capable rival in intelligence?â You asked, a wry smile creeping onto your face.
âBecause I enjoy you.â
It was clear he was waiting for you to say something. The words that had poured from his mouth were unlike any heâd spoken before, and although you couldnât see him, you could feel the sense of restlessness that gripped his body.
You would not leave him in uncertainty.
âI have only ever seen the world through your eyes,â you confessed shyly, âthe only face I see in the endless darkness is yours, and I dream of it every night.â Sukunaâs fingers twitched against your face. âIf youâll have me, I am yours.â
âEven though Iâm a monster?â He asked. There was no remorse in his tone, nothing to suggest that he was pained over who he was, it was just an honest question for you to answer as you wished. âYou were scared of me when we met. I know you hid yourself from me after discovering our connection, eager to ensure our paths would never cross.â
âBecause I believed you would kill me. I thought you to be a man who would stamp out any notion of love and eliminate me along with it.â
He hummed in acknowledgement, failing to deny your statement. You knew it to be true - if you had lost your shogi game on that first meeting, he wouldâve done exactly that. It was in his nature to love only that which piqued his interest.
âEspecially to be paired with someone so weak, I thought you would consider it an insult.â
He scoffed. âYou are far from weak, Iâve found it impossible to best you.â
âI meant physically,â your voice went small. âI did not imagine the King of Curses would favour a sightless woman, nor one so easily broken.â
He was silent for a moment, seemingly processing your words. âI was small and frail once. Perhaps frailer than you. I wish someone had valued me then for my other virtues. Iâm big enough and sharp enough to make up for your failings and you are clever enough to cover mine.â
Your mind was reeling at the idea of him admitting to having failings. Your heart stirring at his affection, and his easy desire despite your condition.
âI had not imagined a soulmate to be so well suited to me, for my tangles with fate have always been cruel,â he said. âBut youâre something different, something I need at my side, and I will be your eyes, your protector, whatever it is you want in order to keep you there.â
âOh.â You were positively blushing, whole body trembling beneath the weight of lovely words spoken in that deep voice of his.
Your soulmate wanted you.
A man hated by the world and filled with hatred in return had a space carved out for you, a space for love you hadnât known him capable of.
Youâd loved him from the first time youâd met him, drawn to him by an inexplicable force which seemed to grip him just as hard.
Soulmates really were wonderful.
Silence had settled between the two of you, only broken as the table screeched across the floor, the barrier between you removed. Sukuna shifted forward and an arm came to rest around your smaller body, pulling you towards him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss you could only describe as sweet.
He didnât dominate you in the manner you believed a man like him would, instead he took his time, mapping out your lips and drawing you closer to him, letting you bathe in the warmth of his body against yours. It was almost like he was trying not to scare you, aware that you couldnât see anything he was doing and trying to move slowly as a result.
You wouldnât have minded either way, your fingers clinging to the biceps of his upper arms, desperate for more of a touch youâd only ever dreamed of.
People always said that to finally touch your soulmate was a euphoria like nothing else, and you truly believed them to be right. Your head felt like it was swimming, chest swelling as if Sukunaâs own soul had wriggled beneath your skin to intertwine with your own.
It was a little overwhelming.
âHow I long for you,â he murmured against your ear, breaking the kiss. âI was foolish to have not had you the moment I laid eyes on you, Iâve ached for your touch longer than I care to admit.â
His fingers moved down to your robes, and your breath hitched at the touch. You were no stranger to sex, your job had required it, but the feeling as he undressed you wasnât like any previous encounter youâd had. What regulars thought of your body was insignificant to you, sex was nothing special with them, just something you had to do if you wished to make a living wage.
This was the first time youâd ever been touched for free by someone you desired, and you felt suddenly nervous at your frail body being judged beneath his crimson gaze - especially when you couldnât look upon him in the same moment. There was no distraction in the darkness to keep you from worrying about how his gaze might burn through you, imagining discontent on his handsome face.
A cold chill caught you once your robes fell, leaving you kneeling and exposed in front of him. A soft breath fell from his lips, fingers moving delicately from your shoulders down to your breasts, as if checking you were truly real and there before him. More heat flooded you as his finger brushed over your peaked nipple.
âBeautiful. If I didnât despise the idea of sharing you with another I would paint you like this. Your body is worthy of that reverence.â
âI think my mind is probably more splendid.â You confessed. You had no eyes for awareness of your appearance, and had subsequently never really relied on it. People had said you were lovely, but you could never quite believe it, assuming that they were taking pity on you for your blindness.
âYour mind is exceptional. If I cannot beat you at shogi soon I have half a mind to ask you to assist me with real life strategy,â he said with a chuckle, fingers still trailing a slow path down your body. âBut it doesnât make your body any less lovely, and you cannot deny such things since youâve never seen yourself. Let me be your eyes and tell you that you are breathtaking.â
A shyness overcame you at those words, head angled downwards as if it would hide your blushing state from him. He raised your chin with a finger, his nose bumping yours before capturing your mouth in a kiss once more, bringing you close against his bare chest. You were so lost in the comfort of the kiss, that you found yourself completely caught off guard when something wet swiped against your stomach and breasts.
Flinching in surprise, you drew yourself back in an attempt to understand what was happening. Sukuna laughed, a hand moving into your hair comfortingly. âIt's my tongue,â he spoke easily.
Frowning, you found that his answer didnât make sense, because still the wet appendage explored your breasts, sending your heartrate flying as it flicked against your nipple with impressive accuracy. How could he be speaking but also doing that?
âThereâs a mouth on my stomach. Perhaps you didnât notice when you controlled my body.â
You were ashamed to admit you hadnât noticed such a thing. Sukuna had been naked when youâd awoken in his body, and youâd been quick to dress him up in robes, feeling rude to intrude upon the body of another without consent. Youâd very intentionally not paid too much attention to the workings of his body, not when the first thing youâd seen was the oddity he sported between his legs.
The memory that he had two of what most men only had one, suddenly had you feeling a little nervous in your position. You had no time to voice such nervousness before he was picking you up, allowing his second tongue to continue its onslaught while he carried you over to the bed, depositing you down upon the silk.
His weight moved on top of you, and he swallowed a gasp with his lips as his monstrous tongue shifted its attention from your breasts down to between your legs, dexterously finding a path between your things and lathering your pussy with attention while Sukuna consumed your mouth. Tears pricked in your eyes at the sensation, unaccustomed to a feeling like that.
In all your years as a courtesan, youâd never been eaten out. Men didnât come to brothels to serve women, they came to have their own needs attended to, and youâd done that in whichever manner they desired. You were grateful to have never experienced that feeling before, because it was a blessing to have Sukuna be your first.
Pressure built in your stomach over a series of minutes, overwhelmed by the way he seemed to be everywhere. A tongue between your lips, another between your thighs, hands squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, more hands gripping your hips, pulling you up onto his secondary tongue to allow it a better angle to overwhelm you.
For the first time, you started to understand how Sukuna must feel whenever he played you at shogi - stumbling blindly in the dark whilst overcome from all angles with no means of knowing what was going to come next. It was pleasure in its highest form, and you were quick to cum with a yelp of his name, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.
Sukuna broke the kiss, breathing heavily against your ear. It was a sound you enjoyed, one you could listen to all day if heâd allow you. âI have imagined you beneath me like this every night this week,â he mused, âmy imagination is hardly as pleasant as having the real thing. You taste much sweeter than my mind could conjure.â
Again, you were flushing red. âY-you can taste me throughâŠthat?â
âOf course.â You were certain he was grinning, âAnd Iâm glad that I can.â His secondary tongue was still moving slowly through your folds, lapping up the remnants of your first orgasm, teasingly flicking against your clit and making your shudder.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, breathing quietly together. You werenât sure what Sukuna wanted to do next, but for a moment you were happy to savor the warmth of his heavy body, twitching while he lazily continued his attention to your body. How you longed to see him, eager to witness the expression he was wearing while he attended to you.
All you had to go off was the erratic beating of his heart where his chest was pressed against you.
âLet me have you,â he murmured against your ear. âLet me make you mine.â
âIâm already yours.â
âIs that so? Then let me make it official.â
He shifted atop you, withdrawing his secondary tongue. In the absence of that heat between your thighs, you grew suddenly aware of a heavy pressure against your leg. Your mind jumped to the image of his cocks that youâd filed away in the back of your mind, gut twisting at the thought of either one of them pressing into you.
Sukuna chuckled from above you, a hand coming to stroke your hair. âYouâve seen them, havenât you?â
You nodded.
âI can tell, youâve got that scared little look on your face. Itâs fascinating, when you play shogi youâre unreadable, but outside of that? Youâre practically an open book with your emotions always written across your face.â
Pouting, you let humiliation wash over you. Nobody had ever told you that before. It was hard to guard one's emotions when you had no measure of how the faces of others looked. That was something youâd have to work on. At least you had the good sense to give nothing away when you played shogi.
Another laugh echoed from his lips. âEven now I can see your panic. Itâs very endearing.â
Any protest or response you had for him faded away into the recesses of your brain as he shuffled on top of you. He maneuvered you carefully into a new position, raising your legs and placing them up atop his broad shoulders. You were grateful for your flexibility in that moment, because the size difference between the two of you made that no easy task.
Sukuna was watching you from above while he positioned one of his cocks between your legs, running it steadily through your wet folds in a way that had you shivering with desire, still not fully recovered from the actions of his tongue. You were quick to discover that his focus was on his lower cock, as the upper one bumped pleasurably against your clit.
âYou know,â he mused, stilling his movements. âIâm surprised you struck no deal with me. It is what I had imagined you would do.â
âWhat?â
âIâd assumed I would ask for more and you would refuse me. Iâd thought your respect was tied to shogi, that you would refuse anything from me unless I was capable of beating you.â Your mind moved to Sugawara as you connected the dots. Sukuna believed youâd made that deal before, as if that tiresome Official hadnât dictated those rules of his own choosing.
Shogi was a game you adored, mainly because it was an activity you could excel at even without sight, unlike many other courtesan pastimes such as painting, which would forever be an impossibility for you. But it was by no means something you made all your decisions on, nor were you particularly interested in the skill of others.
If someone could defeat you, you would congratulate them for their win and move on, it would ultimately mean little.
To you, it was little more than a game. To various men, it seemed to be something held in much higher regard - a true mark of intelligence rather than a game for which one could learn and remember strategies to allow them a win.
It mattered little to you whether Sukuna could defeat you or not. Your affection for him wasnât tied to it in any manner.
âTo make such a demand would be wasting my own time. Why would I turn down a man I desire over something so trivial? Besides, my bet with Sugawara was made to ensure I never had to lay with him, that is not the fate I want for us.â
âSo you believe I am incapable of winning?â He asked, with greater disappointment than youâd been expecting.
âI do,â you said with a giggle, âjust as I am incapable of emerging victorious in a battle. We all have our strengths.â
A yelp fell from you as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, catching you unawares. âYeah?â He asked, pressing deeper into you, his fingers tangling tightly into your hair. âRather sure of yourself, arenât you?â
You couldnât help but laugh again - even in the midst of the dull pain of him driving into you, there was something so endearingly pathetic about his words.
âI am. But youâre free to challenge me whenever you like.â
He was silent as he bottomed out inside of you, his face falling to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your skin while he allowed you some time to adjust. You were grateful for his consideration of your wellbeing, fingers digging into his skin, your gut aching as he leaned forwards over you, pushing your legs higher on his shoulders.
There was no question that he was the largest man youâd ever had inside you, practically tearing you apart with his intrusion, but after a few minutes of stillness you found yourself able to relax, the panic exhibited by your body slowly dissipating as you accommodated his size.
âI will challenge you whenever I like,â he whispered against your ear. âAfter this, the cloud of lust youâve placed in my mind will be thinner, and I will beat you with ease.â
âOh, Iâm sure-â
Your snarky response was promptly cut off as he withdrew himself from you, only to swiftly fill you up once more, pulling a desperate cry of his name from your lips. There was no second adjustment period given, instead you found yourself clinging on for dear life as he filled you over and over again with swift and deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back.
One of his hands moved to your stomach, pressing down against the bulge where his cock would press up inside you. It was clear he was fascinated by it, finding great enjoyment in you being claimed by him. You were certain he was no virgin, but it seemed that you were the first woman who meant something to him, the first one who was worth something beyond carnal pleasure.
Legs quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts, you appreciated the way two of his hands came to rest on your thighs, keeping you steady with each brutal snap of his hips. You were crying and whining, your hands blindly reaching for him but finding him just out of range in this position. Seemingly to appease you, he leant further forward, really testing the flexibility of your legs as he practically folded you in half.
Lips pressed against your forehead affectionately, and you enjoyed every single second of his attention, mind floating off on a cloud as your gut tightened with each careful stroke, your walls flexing around his cock. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a feeling only heightened by the erratic contact of his higher cock rubbing up against your clit.
âYou feel so good, fuck. I canât last like this,â he grumbled, never losing pace. It stroked your ego to know of his desire, to understand just how much heâd been holding back since your first meeting. It was everything you imagined the joining of two soulmates would be - desperately euphoric and overflowing with pleasure.
Sex had never felt so good, it had never really felt good at all, and yet you could spend eternity with Sukuna buried inside of you, your bodies and souls joined just as they were always meant to be.
He was yours and you were his. It was just as fate had decreed.
There was nothing stopping the scream that ripped through you as you finally teetered over the edge, your body convulsing in pleasure and clamping down on Sukunaâs thick cock, eager to milk him for all he was worth. You were sobbing his name and writhing against the silk sheets, your hands gripping them desperately in an attempt to anchor yourself to something in the throes of pleasure.
Sukuna couldnât hold on long after that either, spilling into you with a warmth that only heightened your pleasure. His other cock found its release at the same time, cum dripping down onto your stomach in a manner that youâd usually find disgusting, if it werenât your soulmate who was doing it to you. He groaned your name quietly, and let your legs fall from his shoulders.
Without the barrier of your thighs, he settled himself down on top of you, pressing kisses all over your face, his cock still twitching inside your exhausted pussy. You let him lather you with affection, still trying to come to terms with this side of Sukuna. It had been what youâd wanted, what you believed he was capable of, but you hadnât dreamed it would truly happen.
The most you believed youâd get from him was a lifetime of shogi matches, in which the two of you would remain close but never cross the line youâd been so desperate to leap across.
âHas the fog of lust lifted?â You teased. âDo you believe now you can defeat me?â
Sukuna let out a low, rumbling chuckle. âPerhaps we will have to do that a few more times for it to fully ease.â
âOh is that so?â You giggled, reaching out for his hair. He gripped your wrist and moved it into position, allowing you to play with the soft locks youâd been so eager to touch since the first time youâd seen them upon his head.
You wished you could gaze upon that lovely shade of pink once more, but it was enough to know he was there before you, yours to touch as you pleased.
âMmm, I think it would help,â he purred.
âIâm sure that can be arranged.â
Youâd give him whatever he wanted. You were his and he was yours for as long as heâd have you.
a/n: I had so much fun writing this one! thinking about doing one soulmate au for each of the jjk men because I find them so enjoyable to play with <3
anyway, for any crazy in love fans, the next chapter will be out towards the end of this week!
There is something so depraved about the makeup wipes I used after I went out with you for the last time. The way they erased your touch from my face forever. The way they removed the crust of my mascara after I cried. The way my skin smelled like lemons instead of the smoke of the cigarette you held near my face.
Had it been this easy for you as well?
Did you erase me with an easy swipe? Did I no longer linger like a bitter aftertaste? Was your wipe efficient? Did I take at least half a pack to rub away? Was I stubborn?
Or did I give way to a docile erasure?
I keep imagining you trying to rub me away and failing. I live with the stolen parts of the people I've loved. And I leave parts of me with them. Did you find my pieces in you? Did you tear them out and trample on them? Was it easy to clean the mess?
I can no longer draw your face from memory, no longer remember the cadence of your voice, nor feel the warmth of your palm over mine.
This didnât happen today, or yesterday. I just said it out loud today. Because all these days, I kept thinking that I could picture your face if I tried hard enough, or maybe remember the sound of your voice. I canât.
Absence has eroded my memory. Absence makes you a deity. Waiting becomes ritual, love crystallizes into faith.
Because gods are untouchable anyways. They donât answer, but you keep praying, because denouncing your faith doesnât erase the doctrines youâve etched into your bones.
I hope that Iâm not easy to erase. That I, too, get to be the cruel god that doesnât answer your penance.
toji fushiguro - grandpa!toji , dad!toji and his pestering wife , threesome w stepbro!gumi , first kiss , stepdad!toji somno , drunk dad!toji noncon , phone sex , headlock <3 , infornt of ur plushies :( , threesome w uncle!shiu
satoru gojo - dad!toru helping you sleep , bigbro!fratjo , who's the bigger perv? , dad!toru threesome , breeding w dad!gojo ,
itachi uchiha - bigbro!itachi noncon
ryomen sukuna - uncle!kuna , gross uncle!suku
madara uchiha - dad!madara noncon
geto suguru - dad!geto is so rough , dad!geto is the only one for you , bigbro!sugu , dad!sugu drabble , somno w big!bro
shiu kong - dad!shiu , threesome w dad!toji
levi ackermann - dad!levi rewarding you
choso kamo - bigbro!cho helps you w your period pains , gross bigbro!choso
eren yeager - bigbro!eren
armin arlert - yandere big bro!armin
megumi fushiguro - bigbro!megumi , threesome w stepdad!toji
Synopsis: Youâve always had a hard time standing up for yourself. Your new roommate loves that about you.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, manipulation, slight exhibitionism, forced voyeurism(?), non-con, gojo being a freak)
It was a clerical error.Â
Gojo Satoru wasnât supposed to have a roommate because he was Gojo Satoru. The apartment was specifically his, as most things were.Â
You were a mistake.Â
The administration apologized to you both. Theyâd fix it in no time, they promised. This would only last a month before youâd move to your permanent residence.Â
You didnât mind the error. His apartment was large and expansive, and youâd already unpacked your stuff. The plan was to keep you there until everybody settled in for the semester, and then they could swap you out to an empty room.Â
Gojo didnât seem to mind too much either. You assumed heâd be a bit more irritated with the situation, but his lax nature was a pleasant surprise. You wouldnât necessarily call the two of you close, but you werenât on bad terms either.Â
Positive, is the better word. Not exactly neutral, but not too friendly either. You existed on the edges of each other's peripherals, and you were pretty happy with that. Gojo wasnât a bad roommate either. He kept the apartment mostly clean and didnât leave any food out. You thought youâd have to deal with loud parties; he seemed like the type, but the tiny circle he gravitated towards never overstayed its welcome.Â
The only issue was the music.Â
It wasnât bad music. You enjoyed his taste. You would just rather not hear it blasting through the walls at 2 am.Â
A roommate disagreement. Itâs the first one youâve ever had.Â
You want to do this right. Your biggest worry is offending him. You spend days figuring out the best way to approach him. You look up ways to gently bring up disagreements between your roommate. You fill a bag with treats and sweetsâthe kinds youâve seen him munch on before. You even write a letter because you know how flighty you get in these situations, and you canât thank him enough for all that heâs done for you, but if he could just maybe perhaps slightlyâ
â-So you just want me to turn the music down?â Gojo interrupts your rambling.
Heâs sitting on the sofa, one leg across the other. You remain standing, too strung up to really relax. The paper you were reading out loud crinkles as you fold it back up.Â
âYeah.â You mumble. âIf you can.âÂ
He takes another candy youâd gifted him, popping it in his mouth.Â
âYeah, sure.â He shrugs, as if it were hardly an inconvenience.Â
You, on the other hand, nearly deflated in relief. You didnât expect it to be so simple. You were half-preparing for the possibility that heâd blow up at you and go back to administration, demanding your eviction. Everything was resolved so easily.Â
âThank you.â A genuine smile graces your lips.
Gojo hums. The candy cracks between his teeth.Â
âYouâre pretty shy, huh?â He tilts his head, studying you.
A laugh escapes your throat. Nervous.Â
âI just donât like confrontation,â you admit.Â
Gojo nods, returning your wave when you say your goodbyes. You think nothing of the exchange. Hours later, youâre still riding the high of how effortless it all went.Â
â
Two things change today.Â
First, Gojo is up this morning.Â
Heâs never up this early. Usually, you only hear him moving around at noon. Youâre the early bird, not him. You never minded his routine. If anything, you appreciated that you ran on separate schedules.Â
Second, he was naked.Â
Gojo typically dresses conservatively: T-shirts, sweatpants, hoodies. He adorns the look of a typical college student most days. His tastes are a bit on the expensive side, considering how casually he wears luxury brands, but heâs mostly covered up. Â
Today, Gojo walks around the kitchen in nothing but boxers.
Youâre awkwardly standing in the hallway. You want to go back to your room and hide out until he leaves, but youâre already running late for class. Briefly, you think about keeping your head locked on the ground and slinking out the door. Maybe, if youâre lucky, he wonât notice you.Â
You arenât that lucky.Â
Gojo looks at your miserable figure. Thereâs no embarrassment about how little heâs dressed. No apologies. No stutters that will make you feel the tiniest bit human. He bares his white teeth as he smiles.Â
ââMorning, roomie!â He chirps.Â
You repeat the pleasantry with far less enthusiasm. You avoid looking at him directly, preferring to look at the counter, the floor, the refrigerator, anywhere that didnât have Gojo in it.Â
This was normal, you kept repeating to yourself. This is his house. Youâre practically a squatter. He should be comfortable in his own home. He should wear whatever he wants.Â
Besides, now you can make the most of your situation. You first considered skipping breakfast, given his situation. Now that the worst has happened, you could grab an apple or something.Â
You slip past him. You think Gojo is making some type of smoothie, but you refuse to look directly at him to confirm. The fruit basket is right at your fingertips. You start to swipe the first one you can grab before making your escape.
Something presses against your back, caging you against the counter. You freeze. You feel hard muscle as Gojo reaches up to mess with the cabinets.Â
âSorry.â Gojo casually excuses, rifling through the shelves. âIâll just be a second.â
One second.Â
Five seconds. Heâs still there. Your knuckles are white from how hard youâre gripping the counter.Â
âGojoââÂ
âMy music didnât bother you last night, did it?â He asks.Â
For a second, you wonder if thatâs why he was doing this. Maybe you had offended him earlier with your complaint. But you donât hear any resentment in his voice. He sounds cheerful.Â
Delighted, even.Â
âNo,â you say, âit was fine.âÂ
He hums. When he finally pulls away, you get your autonomy back. You scramble away from the counter, not wanting to get caught again.Â
âThatâs good,â He says, âIâm glad you were upfront about this. Weâre roommates! No use in hating eachother, right?âÂ
Temporary roommates, you correct in your head.Â
âAlso, we should use our first names from now on, roomie.â Gojo continues. âWe should speak more comfortably.âÂ
Fine, whatever. You just wanted to leave.Â
He suddenly leans in so heâs eye-to-eye with you. You hadnât noticed it before, but his gaze is intense. You try to back away, but thereâs nowhere to go.Â
âSay it.â He lowers his voice. âSa-to-ru.âÂ
It feels like heâs mocking you, but you canât seem to find the joke.Â
âSatoru,â you obey.Â
He smiles.Â
âYeah.â He pulls away. âJust like that.âÂ
â
After a couple of washes, you finally notice its absence.Â
It wasnât the most expensive of your collection, but it was still pretty pricey. You liked the silk material and the dark red color. It was your favorite pair of panties.Â
You skulk around the apartment, hoping it just fell from the basket. That, or the washer ate it. You tried not to think of the other option.Â
 Days pass, and you give up searching. You decide to forget about it. You have other pairs. Itâs not the end of the world.Â
A part of you thinks about asking Satoru, but youâre quickly squashing it down. No way would you willingly ask him something so embarrassing. You just toss it to the back of your mind, hoping it will just show up again.Â
And then, Satoru invites you into his room.
Itâs not exactly an invitation. When youâre trudging home from class, he pops out from his room, excitedly telling you about a TV show before youâre being dragged inside. Youâre not a big fan of the genre, and you have no interest in the show. It doesnât matter to Satoru. Youâre forced to sit on his bed as the characters on screen follow the script.Â
Heâs doing that a lot lately. Interrupting. Invading. You keep brushing off the thought that heâs testing you, somehow.Â
âRoomie, this guy is so annoying.â Satoru comments. âDonât worry, he dies in the next episode, so you donât have to suffer for long.âÂ
You say nothing as he casually spoils the show for you. Honestly, you couldnât care less. You were getting a little bored. Your eyes wander around his room. Itâs cleaner than you thought itâd be. A few clothes are scattered around. A college hoodie hangs off the door. There are all sorts of papers on his desk, each is covered in meaningless algorithms you canât decipher, and you suddenly remember heâs a physics major. You ask about maybe getting some math help from him later on, before youâre brushing that thought away.Â
Thereâs a snap of fingers. Your gaze drifts back to Gojo.Â
âRoomie, pay attention!â He whines, urging you back to the screen.Â
There are only 10 minutes of the show left. Fine, you sit there, counting down the minutes until you can make your escape.Â
Satoruâs hand brushes the edge of your bare thigh.Â
Heâs not exactly touching. You two are sitting pretty close. He was just sitting comfortably, resting his weight on his hands. Itâs barely a touch, but itâs there. You can feel his fingers on your skin.Â
He doesnât move his hand back. Itâs more likely because he doesnât notice, you convince yourself. Youâre overthinking things again.Â
He shifts. His hand slips even closer.Â
When you try to open your mouth, he hushes you with a, âThis is the best part!â and all the courage leaves your body again.Â
It feels like hours until the credits finally roll. Satoru steps off the bed to turn off the TV, and you make your move too, eager to find refuge in your room.Â
âOh yeah.â His voice stops you in your tracks. âWhat did you want to talk about earlier?âÂ
You stare. It feels crazy to bring up what happened just now. See? He didnât even notice.Â
But now, you have nothing to say, and saying nothing feels like a lie.Â
âDid you see something in your laundry?â You blurt out before you can even think.Â
Satoru encapsulates a picture-perfect replication of an innocent doe. He tilts his head in confusion.Â
âLike what?â He asks.Â
Dark red panties, with just the hint of lace. You canât say it. You just canât.Â
âI think we mightâve swapped some clothes.â You unhelpfully murmur. âIf you see anythingâŠjust let me know.âÂ
He nods. âSure thing, Roomie!â He calls to you as you hurry back into your room and lock the door.Â
Soon, Satoruâs actions turn less ambivalent.Â
Sometimes, youâd hear him once or twice in the middle of the night. Heâs loud. The walls thankfully muffle most of it, but you know what heâs doing. You usually just plug in your headphones and try not to look at him the next day. So far, things have worked out pretty well.Â
Today, his door is wide open as he jerks off.Â
Youâre standing right next to your own door, mouth agape, forced to listen to his moans and babbles for five minutes. Youâre already late for class.
But you canât bring yourself to even open your door.Â
To get out of the apartment, youâd have to cross Satoruâs room. The one that is currently open, where youâd see him stroking his dick.Â
You know this is going too far. You needed to fucking do something already. Thereâs no way you can be kept a prisoner in your own home.Â
And yet, you stay, forced to listen to him openly masturbate.Â
âFuck yes,â you can hear him say over and over again. âJust a little more, pretty girl. Câmon, just a bitâthere we fucking go.âÂ
Heâs talking to someone. No, thatâs not right. Heâs fantasizing about someone.Â
More babblings and youâre squeezing your eyes shut as he comes. He curses again, and you stand there until you no longer want to melt into the floor.Â
A few minutes later, youâre stomping around the room, trying to be as noisy as possible. You loudly adjust your bookbag and fiddle with your chair. You try to give him as much time as possible.Â
By the time you come out, the apartment is back to normal. His door is still open. You stare straight ahead, ignoring the clear invitation to look as you pass his room.Â
âHey, Roomie.â Satoru casually calls from his place on the bed.Â
You nearly trip over your own feet. Satoru gives a hiss.Â
âYou good?â He asks.Â
No.Â
âYes.â You adjust your bag. âJust tripped.âÂ
âOkay.â You hear him shift. His bed creaks under the weight. âHave fun at class, pretty girl.âÂ
You slam the door a lot harder than you should. You were ten minutes late for class that day, but it doesnât matter. As much as you tried to focus on your professorâs drones, your mind kept drifting to the name he called you right before you fled.Â
No, no it couldnât be. You needed to forget about it.Â
Also, he was holding something in his hand. You didnât know for sure, you didnât want to stare butâŠ
âŠit was a dark red piece of fabric.Â
â
You like it when Satoruâs friends come over. They create a buffer between you and him.Â
These days, you arenât in the apartment as much. Youâre out early. You come in late. You arenât avoiding Satoru. You talk to him when he talks to you. You listen to whatever ramblings he has that day. You arenât avoiding Satoru.Â
Today is one of the few times he manages to catch you. Maybe you should count yourself lucky that he did it today, because Suguru was here.Â
He lounges on the sofa as Satoru drags you behind him. Suguru barely glances up from his phone. Heâs pretty used to Satoruâs antics. You arenât.Â
Satoru plops right next to his friend, picking up his remote.Â
âOkay, weâre ready,â he says before frowning and glancing around. âThereâs no more space.âÂ
Heâs right. Both men are big, barely overcrowding the minuscule couch. You awkwardly loiter nearby as they both set up. You open your mouth, ready to say that you were fine with not joining, that you didnât really care about a video game, no matter how awesomely Satoru described it.Â
Satoruâs grin is filled with nothing but delight as he turns to you.Â
âHereââ he eagerly pats his lap ââI've got plenty of space left, pretty girl.âÂ
You blanch, and his smile just grows wider. He starts to reach for you before his friend steps in.Â
Suguru shoves him off the couch. Satoru dramatically collapses onto the floor.Â
âDonât be a dick.â Geto chides before motioning you to sit.Â
You take a seat, with a relieved smile directed at Geto. Satoru grumbles from his spot on the floor, but he doesnât try to move back as you thought he would.Â
âI canât believe youâre abusing me in my own home,â Satoru complains. âWhere I pay rent.âÂ
âYour parents pay rent, you trust fund baby.â Geto is more than happy to refute.Â
âSame thing.â Satoru rolls his eyes. âItâll all go to me in the end.âÂ
Out of all of Satoruâs friends, Suguru seemed to have the biggest hold on his collar. They seemed close. Maybe their friendship had spanned years before college. You donât know if anyone could bear to be around Satoru for that long, but maybe Suguru is that exception.Â
You think you spend about an hour watching them play. You arenât too interested in video games, much less combat games, but they seem to get a kick out of it. Eventually, Gojo demands to play with you. Geto relinquishes his remote to your reluctant hands, more than happy to go back to his phone.Â
âDamn.â Satoru laughs as he kills you for the 4th time. âYouâre bad at this.âÂ
You frown at the YOU LOSE on your side of the screen.Â
âI havenât played this before,â you respond.Â
âI can tell.âÂ
He doesnât seem particularly upset that his new gaming partner sucks. If anything, the more he kills you, the wider his smile gets.Â
âWe should place bets.â He suddenly pipes up. âHowever looses a round: strips.âÂ
You shrink. Geto rolls his eyes.Â
âSatoru, stop bullying your roommate and play the game.â He leans back. âLet the poor thing breathe.âÂ
He whirls around to look at you with wide eyes. You canât tell whether heâs being genuine. You glance away.Â
âYeah.â You fiddle with the remote. âI know.âÂ
âSee, itâs fine!â Instantly, Satoru forgets the game. He crowds into the couch to circle his arm around you, pulling you into his side. âYouâre the only person who understands my humor, pretty girl.â He sighs.Â
âThis sounds more and more like a hostage situation.â Suguru idly comments.Â
But when you look at him, really look at him, you can see the apathy clear in his eyes.Â
Maybe thatâs why they got along so well.Â
âShut up.â Satoru snaps.Â
âYouâll tell me, though, right?â Satoru says as he snuggles even closer. âIf Iâm going too far?âÂ
You want him to get off of you. You know he knows, too.Â
âI will.â You say instead.Â
Satoru grins, continuing to swaddle you with his body.Â
âSee?â He blows a raspberry in Suguruâs direction. âMy Roomie loves me.âÂ
â
Sometimes you prefer to be alone with Satoru. He just gets worse with more people around.Â
The club he dragged you into was smoky, with the occasional lights that flicked and changed colors, illuminating the floor. It was crowded. Someone spilled a drink on the floor earlier that night. The sweet sticky scent lingered in the air.Â
Satoru had brought a couple of other people too, more than happy to stuff the lot of you into his car before driving off. One of Satoruâs other friends, Shoko, was here somewhere. Suguru was here too, but you lost sight of him sometime back. You, standing against the wall, wonder if you could take a bus back to the apartment.Â
The only person in your line of sight was Satoru.Â
Earlier, heâd asked if you wanted to dance. You declined. You thought heâd make a bigger fuss out of it, like usually he does when you donât fully accommodate him. Instead, he shrugged off your rejection, casually tossing over his shoulder to âjoin in at any timeâ.Â
Someone else was with him. She was shorter than him, even with the heels. You watch as she drags manicured nails across his arms as he leans down to kiss her. You doubt they know each other. Satoruâs just like that. Overly friendly.Â
It reminds you of all the people he brings over for âlate-night study sessionsâ. Apart from the noise, you donât mind the girls and guys. Most of them are pretty nice. They actually give you a lot of relief whenever you see them. For a second there, you thought that the reason Satoru was doing this to you was that heâ
So yes, the people he brings over are a nice thing.Â
Someone clears his throat.Â
You donât recognize him. His grin is sheepish. Polite, you smile back.Â
The small talk is a bit awkward at first. Itâs hard to hear him with the screaming crowd and music. You two exchange names. He comments on the phone case you have, claiming his sister likes that character too. He perks up when he says something that makes you laugh.Â
âDid you come here with anyone?â He finally asks.Â
âMy roommate,â you offer, turning your head to point to Gojo.Â
He isnât there. Neither is the girl he danced with earlier. You wonder if he decided to ditch you and take her home. You donât think youâd be surprised if he did.Â
At the implication you arenât seeing anyone, he asks:Â
âCan I get you a drink?âÂ
You think youâre about to refuse. You know Satoru and the rest of his group will be drunk by the time the night ends. Youâre pretty sure the only reason you were dragged along was to play babysitter and drive them home.Â
You open your mouth for a polite rejection.Â
Satoru does it for you.Â
He was fast. You hadnât noticed him until he was putting himself right between you and your conversational partner.Â
Satoruâs smiling. It doesnât look friendly.Â
âHey man,â Satoru casually says, âthe fuck are you doing?âÂ
He can read between the lines, something youâre grateful for. Within seconds, the stranger is hurrying off. Lucky, you think to yourself, watching his back disappear into the crowd. Satoru lets him go so easily.Â
Unlike you.Â
He turns on you almost immediately. You want to sink into the wall.Â
âWeâre going.â He finally says.Â
You pliantly nod, letting him lead you out the seedy club. Only when you get to his car do you realize he meant just you and him.Â
âWhat aboutââ You cut yourself off when you see his eyes.Â
Dark. They no longer resemble the color of cloudless skies. Now, theyâre more like thunder and rain.Â
Youâve never seen him more furious than the entire time youâve known him.Â
You remain silent as you slip into the passenger seat, tucking yourself into the seatbelt. Satoru starts the car with a distinct rumble. The locks click into place.Â
Youâve always known Gojo to be an erratic driver. Tonight feels even worse. His knuckles are white from how hard heâs squeezing the steering wheel. The car keeps speeding up and up, careening past the speed limit. You can hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest.Â
And Satoru?Â
Satoru looks like heâs about to murder someone.Â
âWho was that?â His voice is cold, devoid of all the playfulness he had earlier tonight.Â
âI donâtââÂ
âWho the fuck was he?â He demands.Â
You flinch, and your hands curl into fists to keep them from shaking too much. You canât do anything but stare into the window, watching the night sky dwindle past with all the other cars on the highway.Â
âI didnât know him.â You weakly tried to defend, even if you didnât know why. Your instinct was to placate. âHe just came up to me, and we started to talk.âÂ
He laughs. Itâs dry, bitter, and sardonic.Â
âOkay.â He tells you, turning the wheel so sharply that you press further into the door. âI let you outtaâ my sight for two seconds, and youâre letting some fucker feel you up?âÂ
âIââÂ
âWhatâd you two talk about?â He demands. âDid he ask if he could touch your pussy? If he did, you wouldâve let him, right? I mean, you were practically throwing yourself at him like a slut, so maybe the guy thought he had a chance.âÂ
It hurts to breathe. Something stings in your eyes as your vision blurs.Â
No one has ever said such horrible things to you before.Â
âNothing like that happened.â You insist. Why was he doing this? Why was he acting like this? âPlease justââÂ
âShut up.â He snaps back. âWhat, you seriously thought anyone would fall for the shit you pull? You think he actually cared for you? Donât make me laugh. He only wanted your tits and holes.âÂ
The words Satoru barks out are mean and vulgar. Your body freely shakes, you press yourself further up against the door, feeling tears stream down your cheeks. Satoruâs voice only softens when your hiccups and sobs fill the car.Â
âBaby, no, IâI didnât mean that shit.â His voice is oddly strained. You feel fingers brush against your neck, but you only shift away.Â
You didnât want to be in that club. You didnât want to talk to that man. You didnât want to get into Satoruâs car. You just wanted to go home.Â
The car slows to a stop right in an abandoned parking lot. Satoru kills the engine, letting the car hum into silence. Whatever happens, you think it will happen now. At this very moment. You prepare yourself for the worst, squeezing your eyes shut.
But itâs even worse.Â
Thereâs a hiss of a zipper. Your eyes open just in time to see Satoru pull out his dripping cock.Â
Heâs already hard. His cock curves up, almost touching the steering wheel as he wraps his fingers around the base. The tip is painfully swollen as beads of pre-cum leak down his cock. Veins bulge against his skin as he frantically pushes his hand up and down.Â
Your fear melts straight into horror as you stare at him. Heâs staring right at you, desperately pumping his cock with his hand. The worst part is his eyesâwide, blown out like heâs high. He looks right at you like he wants to eat you alive.Â
Youâre immediately reaching for the handle. No matter how much you tug, the car wonât open. Youâre trapped there, forced to watch as your roommate jerks himself off in front of you because your crying turned him on.Â
Your sobs quieten. All you can hear in the car is his moans and the words he mouths, your name over and over again.
You think the worst part is that he still tries to talk to you, to comfort you.Â
âYouâre okayâyouâre okay, baby.â Heâs spitting the words out through his teeth as his hand throttles his pulsing dick. âLemmeâlemmeâcanât help mâselfâjustââ,Â
You flinch when he comes. His cock spurts white cum all over his hands.Â
Youâre fully silent. The only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing as he cleans up.Â
You think heâs about to reach for you. His fingers never make contact.Â
You stare out the window. Everythingâs dark. Nobody was around. No one was around to see you. To hear you.Â
Even if someone was aroundâŠwhat could you say?Â
âCan we go home, please?âÂ
Thereâs a sharp inhale.
âSure.â The affection in his tone makes you nauseous.Â
You close your eyes.
âAnything for you, pretty girl.âÂ
â
Ten minutes later, youâre still twiddling your fingers in the waiting room.Â
Getting this appointment had been excruciatingly difficult. Constant last-minute cancellations. Reschedules. It felt like they were trying to deter you from entering the housing office.Â
They promised you this was a temporary arrangement. You were only supposed to be at Satoruâs place for a month, maybe even less. But then one month turned to two. Two months turned to three. You donât think youâd last another day in that apartment.Â
He was getting worse each day. It was only a matter of them until heâ
A man steps into the lounge. Heâs tall and lanky, carrying a smile that screams dismissive. You perk up as he squints at you. When he calls your name, you immediately rise, following him into the back of his office.Â
Itâs stuffy. There are papers everywhere. You squish into a chair just before he starts talking.Â
Itâs the usual stuff. You spell out your name, and he pulls up your housing account. He squints at the computer.Â
âYou said this was a temporary assignment?â He asks.Â
You eagerly nod, straightening your posture.Â
âYes,â you say. âMy roommate wasnât supposed to have another one, but there was a mix-up andââ
âNo.â He taps on the screen. âYou said it was temporary, but here it says itâs permanent.âÂ
You swallow.Â
âWhat?âÂ
He messes around with his mouse for a bit. Your hands feel strangely clammy.Â
âAh, here it is.â He cleared his throat. âIt says you came in a month ago wanting to make the change. I see your and your roommates' signatures. You must have come here a while ago.âÂ
You struggle to find the words.Â
âI donâtââÂ
âIn any case, itâs too late to change anything now. The deadline for reassignment passed weeks ago.â He gives you a sympathetic look that strangely cuts deep into your skin.Â
âAre you and your roommate having issues?â
You think about the truth.Â
âNo,â you hear yourself say. âEverything is fine.âÂ
You donât remember much after that. You think you were polite as you stood up. You think you shook his hand. You think you walked out of his stuffy office and out of that stifling building. Everything is a blur until you step into the sunlight, feeling it beat down your face.Â
You donât want to go back to the apartment. You still feel too raw, too fresh.Â
You donât have any classes left for today. You canât hide out on campus. Satoru will find you. He always finds you. Maybe you should stay at a friendâs place and recuperate.Â
Right, you donât have any friends. Satoru made sure of that.Â
Briefly, you think about going to the police. Could you maybe use them as a buffer somehow? At the very least, it might scare him from taking this any further.Â
But then you glance over at the campus buildings. The name Gojo flashes brightly in the sun.Â
You arenât stupid. You may not know his family all that well, but you know the influence of his background. There is a reason his campus apartment is thrice the size of everyone elseâs. There is a reason he wasnât supposed to have a roommate in the first place.Â
He is everything. He has everything.Â
You are nothing. You have nothing.Â
When you arrive at the apartment ten minutes later, Satoru is already lounging on the couch.Â
He excitedly waves you over. When you get inside striking range, he reaches out, pulling you onto the cushions. You pretend not to notice the way he breathes in your scent as you settle on the sofa. An arm wraps around your body, pushing you into his side.Â
âWhere were you, roomie?â Satoru whines. âDidnât class end an hour ago?â It would be a harmless question if his grip werenât so tight. You wonât be surprised if you find a bruise there in a day or two.Â
Something plays on the TV. Neither of you pays attention.Â
âSorry.â Itâs all you can muster to say.Â
He seems satisfied with your answerâthe submission of it. You find yourself counting down the clock. Seven minutes go by before you speak up again.Â
âSatoru?â You ask.
Thereâs a distant hum of an answer.Â
âDid you tell Housing I was staying?âÂ
For the longest while, Satoru does not speak. Then, he relaxes. He groans, easily delving into your space. A hand rests on your thigh.Â
âOh, that.â Thereâs a yawn. âYeah, I just went ahead and told them you didnât need to move out. We were getting along so well, âmakes no sense why youâd get a different apartment, right? Sounds like a hassle moving halfway through the semester.âÂ
Then he shifts. You can feel him stare right down at you.Â
âUnless you have a problem with that?âÂ
He doesnât even bother to hide it. Pure excitement.Â
Was there ever a possibility you couldâve come out unscathed had you just stood up to him earlier? Maybe you shouldâve been a bit less timid when speaking to him about his music. Maybe you shouldâve commented on his lack of clothing around the house.Â
Or maybe it was always going to end up this way.Â
âNo.â You tell him, staring straight at the TV. âI donât have a problem with that.âÂ
A couple of days later, another pair of panties goes missing.Â
Unlike last time, you donât bother looking for it.Â
â
You always locked your door at night, but looking back, it was stupid to assume Satoru didnât have a spare key.Â
This is his apartment, after all.Â
The lock gives with barely a click. Youâre already wide awake, body rigid, tucked underneath the covers as hallway light bleeds into the room. Youâre facing the textured wall, watching as his shadow drifts into your bedroom. The door shuts in a way that sounds final. Itâs dark again.Â
Heâs quiet. You can barely hear the sounds of his breath. Thereâs a footstep. Then, another. Eventually, heâs right behind you.Â
You donât know what he was doing. Youâre too scared to turn and check. Naively, you think if you pretend to be asleep, heâll leave.Â
One minute.Â
Two minutes. Heâs so still, for a moment, you wonder if you imagined the whole thing.Â
The edge of your blankets lifts. Your bed creaks under his weight. His chest presses against your back. Warm hands grasp your shoulders.Â
Heâll leave eventually. If you pretend to be asleep, heâll leave.Â
You squeeze your eyes shut when his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. He inhales.Â
âYouâre not gonna stop me, are you?â His voice makes your shoulders tense. You can practically hear his smile.Â
His fingers manage to slip under your shirt. You can barely hold in your gasp when he grabs a handful of your tits. He doesnât even bother to be gentle, squeezing and pulling until youâre practically whining.Â
âCâmon.â Satoru coos into your ear. Thereâs a kiss on your neck. âSay it. Tell me no.âÂ
He nibbles the skin right on your jawline. His hair tickles your cheek.Â
Your hands reach out to grab his own. You squeeze, digging your nails into his skin.Â
âPlease stop.âÂ
He laughsâthe kind of laugh youâd give to a toddler if they misbehave. It feels so mean.Â
âYouâre so cute.â Another kiss right at your ear.
âStop.â You repeat. His hands donât budge, not even when you start to draw blood. âLet go. Donâtâdonât touch meââÂ
He flips you right on your back. From the streetlights peaking through the blinds, you can see his face. The widest smile is stretched over his pretty lips. It looks almost manic.Â
Your eyes sting.Â
âCan I kiss you?â He asks. Itâs almost cruel how soft his voice is.Â
You shake your head. His teeth gleam.Â
âPlease?â He leans closer. âJust one kiss?âÂ
Itâs heartbreaking how sweet the kiss is. Soft, barely touching as he melds his lips with yours. He keeps a hand on your chin, holding you in place before the greed takes over and he ravages you.Â
By the time he pulls away, your lips are bitten and bruised.
He sinks lower, face dipping into the skin of your neck as he makes himself home there. Itâs laughingly pathetic how weak you were compared to himâhow little you fare when he pulls off your shirt, then your shorts. Soon, his clothes join yours, leaving a small puddle of cloth at the foot of your bed.Â
He pulls away from your body, looking over the whole of you.Â
âOh, baby.â His eyes are blown out like heâs high. âIâŠI just wanna do everything to you.âÂ
You canât hold back the tears anymore. They drip down your face, sculpting your cheeks. He coos, sinking lower to pepper your face in kisses.Â
âIâm sorry, baby.â The excitement in his voice betrays him. âDonât cry. I wonât do anything bad, I promise.âÂ
Liar, you want to call him, but you donât. You canât. Your throat traps your voice as his fingers delve underneath your panties.Â
Thereâs no tact as he presses into you, immediately filling you up with his finger. Your pussy can barely fit one of him, almost choking when he slips in another. Thereâs no rhythm, no grace for how fragile you are as he thrusts his fingers deeper and deeper.Â
You can barely muffle your cries as he hits a spot deep inside you.Â
âSee?â he asks, toying with your clit. âNot bad things, right?âÂ
You donât answer, barely able to keep the noises in check as he abruptly pulls out of you. His fingers are shiny from your pussy juices. He crudely wipes his fingers on your tits.Â
Youâve seen his cock before, but it looks even bigger from this angle. It slaps against your inner thighs as he finishes yanking off your drenched panties. The mushroom-tipped head brushes against your slit. He tosses one of your legs over his shoulder, opening your hole just enough to get his cock in the perfect position.Â
The fight comes in too late. You think youâre reaching up to claw at his face, those pretty blue eyes.Â
It dies as he bottoms out inside your pussy in one thrust.Â
He doesnât wait for you to settle down; heâs not kind enough for that. As soon as his cock sits as deep as it can into your pussy, heâs immediately moving. Your abused cunt immediately tightens around his cock, almost like youâre trying to suck him back in.Â
You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel Satoru collapse on top of you. His head drops into the crook of your neck. You can hear his ragged breaths as he fucks himself deeper and deeper into you.Â
ââneed you to relax for me, baby.â He hisses like itâs your fault he canât control himself. âCanâcan barely fit into this cunt.âÂ
To emphasize his words, he reaches down. Thereâs a soft slap right on your clit. You yelp. He soothes you with gentle circles with his thumb.Â
âSatoru,â you can barely get out from the pressure, âplease just stopââ Another smack on your pussy. Harder.Â
âCanât stop.â His breaths are ragged, and his hips shift so he can plow into you at a different angle. âCanât ever stop. Not when I know how good you feel.âÂ
Thereâs a rasp of a laugh as your own noises get louder and louder. Your back arches. Something hot writhes in your belly the more the fucks you. Heâs gripping your waist so harshly that you know theyâll leave bruises.Â
Itâll pair well with the clawmarks you leave on his back as you arch further into his raw cock.Â
Thereâs a sharp hiss before heâs kissing you again. Thereâs a harsh thrust that makes you moan directly into his mouth. He reluctantly pulls away, licking the taste of you out of his mouth.Â
âIâm so glad I found you.â He tells you, continuing to ram into your pussy.Â
âCanât even imagine howâhow someone else would react to you just givinâ yourself to âem. Fuck, even thinkinâ about it makes me wanna kill someone.âÂ
Distantly, you think about all the times you couldâve stopped him. You think about what you couldâve done differently to never cross paths with a man like Gojo Satoru.Â
âYouâre all for me.â He sighs, leaning close so heâs whispering right in your ear.Â
He wants you to hear this right before he makes you cum all over his cock.Â
âItâs all youâll ever be.âÂ
You're writhing against his cock as he forces you through an earth-shattering orgasm. Your pussy clenches hard around him, milking him for all heâs worth as your climax is reluctantly dragged out of your exhausted body.Â
Thereâs a grunt, then a sigh as something fills you to the brim. His cock pumps his cum steadily into you. Thereâs so much your poor pussy canât keep it all inside. It leaks crudely from your hole.Â
He stays like that for a minute, breathing you in as you start to come down from your high. Then, Satoru flops to your side, gathering up in your arms. Youâre forced to lie against his chest, listening to his quickening heartbeat.Â
The anger comes too late to do anything about.Â
âI hate you.â You hiss as he continues to cuddle you. âI hate you, I hate youâyou sick, twistedââ
âAw, you donât gottaâ pretend to be mean with me, pretty girl.â Satoru coos, snuggling into your exhausted figure. You can feel the hard shape of his cock press right against your thigh.Â