[ ⋆.𑣿 ̊ ] – Grazed by an aphrodisiac-coated shuriken, Hokage Kakashi Hatake seeks help from his lovely assistant!
˗ˏˋ pairing ˎˊ˗ ꒰ Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader ꒱
˗ˏˋ content & warnings ˎˊ˗ ꒰ MDNI 18+ :: office sex :: reader in her late 20s ::Kakashi in his late 30s :: he’s hot and miserable :: blowjobs :: he's a whimpering mess :: age gap :: breeding kink :: cowgirl :: minx reader :: 3.1k words ꒱
The night has fallen over the Hidden Leaf Village, the pleasant chirping of the crickets creeping through the open windows. The moon lurked as if shyly, stretching its cold arms towards the Hokage's desk, piled with paper. Reports, tasks, documents, and letters from the Land of Lightning, Water, and Earth were gathered neatly in the middle of the wide wooden desk.
A soft melody slipped past your lips, filling the dimly lit office as you slowly got ready to go home. Looking through the window, your brows furrowed.
The Hokage still wasn't here, although the moon was high and the crickets chirping in a rhythmic choir, slowly, gently, falling into deep slumber too. A few little houses hugging beneath the towering trees were still dimly lit by the soft candles smooching the lone windows, yet most of the villagers had long since fallen asleep.
Only you, the Hokage's assistant, were still awake, lurking through the open window of the chief's office. With a deep sigh and an even deeper wrinkle on your forehead, you watched the documents pile up all day as the Hokage seemed to be elbows-deep in whatever mission he decided to take.
Although he truly didn't need to, for other ninjas were simply at his snap.
But Kakashi Hatake, although an old man – although he hated how you used his maturity to remind him that some things needed to be taken care of with utmost responsibility – enjoyed anything but fulfilling his Hokage's duties.
And so the reports piled up, while he slipped out of his office early in the morning, only to return late at night, after the crickets had chirped their last melody.
This night was no different, as he suddenly rolled into his office, half-undressed in his daily ninja armour, wearing nothing but a tight, sleeveless shirt, its long collar covering his lips.
He didn't simply walk, but rather stumbled – with deep breaths escaping his tightened throat and hands shivering, as if a sickness had struck his mind.
"Kakashi?" Your head tilted as you still stood by the window.
A gentle wind swirled your hair, carrying the sweet scent of your skin towards his burning face. His eyes, one crimson, kissed, the other obsidian, looked up with an almost miserable frown, before a groan slipped past his lips.
It seemed he wasn't happy to see you in his office at such an hour, but what could you do? Being the Hokage's assistant felt almost as if you were the village's chief yourself!
Only a moment had passed before your eyes slipped lower. Towards his legs, thighs, with one of them leaking barely visible, vermilion liquid. A metallic smell of his blood was suddenly more palpable than ever, and so a low gasp fell from your lips.
You quickly drew closer, catching his massive body before it could hit the floor with a weak groan.
"Kakashi, what the hell happened?"
But it seemed that your touch burned more than the wound itself, as he gently pushed you away with a, "P-please, don't come any closer."
Droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping leisurely as he hung his head. Arms barely holding on, trembling as he walked towards a soft chair in the corner of his office and sat with a low groan.
Or rather a moan, as your eyes involuntarily fell towards his bulging trousers, noticing a painfully hard swell.
"Kakashi, what happened?" You pose, putting a hand on your hip. "Where have you been?"
He grabbed the armrest and leaned back, letting the black collar finally expose his panting, fallen lips.
"Nothing, d-don't worry," he murmured, yet his voice was low and honey-dripping, as if on the verge of losing his mind. "Please, go back home."
But you didn't move. Didn't even breathe, watching the massive man writhing in the cushioned armchair, sweat rolling down his temple, eyes lidded by the fire bubbling in his loins.
Nothing.
He was a man who always kept the problems to himself.
Not solely the problems, but desires too. Erotica-kind-of-guy, who read some filthy romances during his office hours yet kept blushing whenever you swirled a lock of hair around your finger.
Built from muscle upon muscle, with a handsome jaw and sharp eyes, a nasty, salacious scar slashing across his crimson one.
Always an utmost kind gentleman, who somehow kept himself away from women. Everyone thought so because Hokage had never been seen with a female ninja, nor even with a simple villager. He hid behind the office walls instead or went on lone missions.
Yet you knew Kakashi Hatake wasn't the apathetic, almost impotent man some people took him for. Because you felt his deep eyes following your figure as you came and went from his office. Staying a bit longer on your naked thighs whenever you wore a skirt, and on the way, throwing knives hugged them tightly, until the muscles bulged under the leather straps.
You knew he liked the sweet scent of your perfumes, deep and almost nauseating in their warmth, yet always wrapping around him like the petals' gentlest kisses. He followed the movement of your soft lips, eyes mingling beneath the sunlight spilling into his office, hair always looking so soft and shiny, like the satin scarf he wished to wrap around his neck.
And so after working with you for a while, Kakashi decided that the safest option to not get himself embarrassed with the way his cock always leaked whenever you entered his office in the morning – would be to quickly disappear. To go out in the morning and slip back late at night, while Hokage's office was left with nothing but the faint traces of your sweetness.
He thought he was clever, sly. That you didn't know how mellow you made him feel.
That's why he thought that you would simply nod and leave him be. With cock painfully straining his briefs and mind slowly slipping into pleasurable dizziness.
Instead, to his utter dissatisfaction, you observed him carefully, squinting, your gaze moving between his shallow wound and the flushed, blooming face that dripped with arousal.
"What did they spike you with?" You sighed, crossing arms over your chest. "Hm? What is it? A poison?"
His head shook, a few wisps of snowy hair sticking to his wet forehead. Almond-shaped eyes, much more lidded than usual, as his gaze wandered over your body.
Skirt hugging your hips sweetly and a tight sleeveless shirt, quite similar to his, clinging like a second skin. He didn't need much to imagine you were already naked. With body-hugging clothes in dresses so tight, he could clearly see every deeper rise of your soft belly.
You came closer, slowly, snapping in front of his eyes. "Hello? I can't help you if you won't tell me what's going on."
Your smell was painfully pleasant, so he quickly, with a single move, pulled the collar back over his nose.
"Please j-just go, I–mhmm," another groan escaped his throat as you came even closer.
This time, you stood right between his spread thighs as he tried every way possible to apply a bit of pressure around his hips. You leaned closer, putting your arms on the chair's handles and lowering yourself to meet his eye level.
"What happened? Tell me, because there's no way I'm leaving our Hokage in such a state."
Such miserable, innocent, pure, giving you every chance to push his sweet buttons and tease his wrecked mind.
Kakashi furrowed as the warmth radiating from your body slowly slipped beneath his tight collar. His throat bobbed as his finger slowly pulled the material down, allowing a quiet "Aphrodisiac" to fill the serene office.
With a few candles still dimly flickering on his desk, and the moon's shy kisses bathing your blooming face in a virgin glow.
Something wicked danced behind your eyes. A mischievousness of sorts, as you hummed and slowly, leisurely, sank to your knees.
"What are you doing?" Kakashi gasped, following the lovely pout that twisted your lips. "Wait–" His fingers tried to grab your hands as they slipped towards his hips, yet you gently smacked them.
"What do you mean? I'm only helping our dear Hokage, of course," your devilish voice mingled with the faint melody of the crickets. "As I do believe, our Hokage is wise enough to know how to get rid of…" With a single move, you pulled his trousers down to the middle of his beefy thighs. "This problem. Right?"
The moment his briefs slipped off his hips, the fat, leaking head smacked into your cheek with a wet smudge. Pearly droplets spattered his abdomen, and only then did you notice that–
"Did you just cum?"
His throat bobbed and brows furrowed as a sudden wave of arousal smooched your spine.
"T-twice."
You giggled, biting down on lower lip. Fingers clenched on his meaty thighs, digging into the milky skin. "Why?"
Your warm breath hit his cock, veins bulging and curling around the fat shaft. You leaned closer, plush lips kissing its softly and spilling another needy groan from his lips.
"Tell me," you demanded, spreading his thighs wider. "Why did you cum twice, Kakashi?"
A moany fuck hit your warm cheeks when you licked off the pearly cum still dripping from his swollen head.
"You know why." His long fingers gripped the armrests, head falling back to reveal pale neck. "Baby, fuck, c-can you suck on it?"
A demon must have taken over his mind. A wicked spirit of some sort, as Kakashi, in his mature, gentlemanly age, would never, ever say such filth to his young assistant.
Not that young, too, yet almost ten years youthful, with the loveliest cheeks already smiling foxily and a wet tongue licking his trembling shaft from balls up to the feverish head. The spit mixing with the last droplets of semen, trickling down his cock like a crystal thread.
"No, I don't think so," you chuckled, nuzzling your lips against his head without taking it into your warm mouth. "Tell me why. Did my sole presence turn our Hokage on that much?"
He nodded without giving it much thought, although it was the truth. Your presence did, in fact, make him pathetically cum right into his slacks.
"Mmm," a sweet hum bounced off his cock, as you placed in its top a gentle kiss. Before taking a deep, nasty sniff, and letting his mind spin into madness. "Did your younger assistant turn you on that much?"
"Stop," he groaned, feeling the last threads of his patience slowly tearing. "J-just, fuck, let's pretend it's a one-time t-thing."
You knew it was a lie.
And he also knew – from the moment you slipped him past your lips, and he immediately cummed right onto your tongue. The sole warmth of your mouth and those wicked, foxy eyes looking up at him with a squint were enough to send another ripping pleasure down his spine.
Big hands instantly falling onto your head, forearms bulging from restraint he desperately tried to cling to, yet still pushing you down his cock. Till the full, fat length slipped into your mouth, pulsing head hitting the back of your throat.
A crying choke tried to escape your throat, but instead your fingers dug into his beefy thighs, leaving nasty, crimson scratches.
He didn't give you a second to get used to his full length, instead moving your head up and down his cock. With swollen lips and tears dancing in the corners of your eyes, you gagged on his musty, delicious fatness while he fucked your throat without a drop of usual gentleness.
Legs spreading wider, crimson eyes mingling in pleasure at your full cheeks and trembling hands, as you took him fully without a fight. Instead, clenching your own thighs and rubbing them together, just to feel your drenched panties brush the swollen clit.
"Such a good fucking throat," Kakashi muttered, another wave of pleasure bubbling in his loins. "I swear, fuck, I swear it's only a one-off. Only once, baby. For all those days you've been teasing me like a little slut."
You wished to laugh, to chuckle, to tease him back. Yet your eyes rolled back, and heavy breaths escaped through your nose as he dragged his length relentlessly through your throat. You felt its mass on your tongue – each vein pulsing beneath your breath, the sizzling head smooching the back of your throat.
His thumbs brushed away tears dripping down your cheeks. "Shh, baby, don't cry. You're doing such a good job, f-fuck–"
He groaned as your pace quickened. A bit sloppier, with the filthy squelching and your gagging filling the quiet space of his office. Candles cast a gentle glow on your teary cheeks; the moon kissed his milky hair, sticking to sweating forehead.
He was ready to cum any second, spill his semen right onto your throat and watch your cheeks burst from it in a lovely pout.
But instead, you suddenly pulled away.
"Wha-" He didn't finish, when you pressed lips to his, in a messy, vile kiss.
First load of his cum still sweetly coating your tongue, as you pushed to his mouth. Letting a few creamy droplets layer his palate as he moaned right into your grinning lips.
"How could you cum in my throat, dear Hokage? You chuckled, lifting your soaked panties to the side, and giving him a clear view of your juices dripping down his swollen cock. "Such a waste of resources, don't you think?"
Kakashi could only nod – madly, unconsciously, savouring the warmth radiating from your wet pussy.
"Why won't you fill my womb instead?" Another wicked giggle, smooched his blooming cheeks, as you pressed your entrance to his leaking head. Hands on his muscular arms, to let yourself slowly, painfully lower onto his fat cock. "Allow me to give you an heir. Spill into your assistant's fertile womb and make me a mommy."
Kakashi felt unbearable, a pinching desire smouldering across every part of his body. In his eyes, your figure, hanging over his massive, trembling body, seemed like a tempting demon of sorts. A succubus, and if he squinted enough, with the aphrodisiac still filling his body with a lustful mist, a shadow dancing behind your head looked almost like two lovely horns.
His head slipped inside, the rest of the cock following in, sending a wave of maddening pleasure over his spine. Strong hands gripped your hips, trying to lift you up a little, as if his mind still tried to resonate with the urge to nuzzle himself deep within your warmth.
"Baby, f-fuck, we can't–"
Usually, you wouldn't have a chance against his brutal strength, yet this time you easily pushed through his grip. Lowering yourself with a sweet moan, head falling back.
"Mhmm, Kakashi, you fill me so good," you sighed, feeling his fat cock tremble deep within the clutches of your cunt. "I can't believe you didn't fuck me sooner."
He couldn't listen to you. He couldn't stand the way your pussy clenched around his spilling cock, sugary scent wrapped around his mind, sweetening the salty cum that still coated his tongue.
He filled you so well, with a slightly curved head brushing your sweet spot just right, as you started rolling your hips up and down.
With hands gripping his arms and face leaning towards his fallen mouth, to lick a little beauty spot right beneath his lower lip. Kiss it wetly, to draw another deep groan past his throat.
"Don't fight it, Kakashi," you pledged, biting down on his lower lip. "Just let me take care of you," your hands grabbed his, sliding them up and down your velvety skin.
Your pussy sent a few pulses down his shaft as you clenched on him with a muffled moan. Lips connecting with his again, wetly, messily, pressing your chest to his.
He finally gave in.
Strong arms curling around your waist, pulling you closer to his heated body. Hips bucking up to meet every mean roll of your hips, the tip of his cock finally hitting your womb in dripping squelching.
Your juices dripping down his slacks, eyes rolling back as he pounded you at a merciless pace. Almost painful whenever his cock slid through the tight walls of your pussy, tearing another moan from your throat.
His crimson eye followed the lustful expressions pouting on your face, each more maddening than the last, forcing a scowl between his milky eyebrows.
"K-Kakashi–mmmm–you're filling me so good," you snapped, wrapping your hands around his neck. Your hips bounced with a nasty squelch, as the pleasure already bubbled in your lower belly.
"Maybe I should get hurt more often," he groaned, one arm slipping down between your bodies, to roll your clit through the flimsy material of your panties. "If that's how–ngh–you're planning to treat me."
His rough fingers pressed the swollen button, feeling the foul juices drip from the soaked fabric.
You nodded, letting a sweet moan hit his rosy cheeks. "Y-yeah, ahhh, I'll let you fill my pussy every single day."
It felt impossible to fight the desire that bubbled in Hokage's loins for all those months. So Kakashi could do nothing but press his hips to yours, until his balls smooched the swell of your ass and head nuzzled against the puffy womb.
With the last shudder and your moan splashing past your lips – he came. Flooded your pussy with sticky stripes of burning cum, cramming it right inside your weeping womb. His whimpers mixed with your cries, as he pulled you closer and connected your lips in a last kiss. Full of passion, desire, lined with months looking over your shoulders with the burning need to fuck out all the craving that bubbled within you for this whole time.
Your heavy pantings filled the warm office.
"So–" But you didn't finish when he suddenly stood up.
With you pussy still clenching around his hard, aphrodisiac-spiked cock and cum dripping down the wooden floors.
All the documents piling up on his desk fell to the floor in a crying mess, and a gasp caught in your throat when he laid you down on its big surface.
"I spent all day–" He shushed you with a kiss, licking your lips and brushing warm cheek with his thumb.
"Sorry, baby. Let me use your pretty pussy for a bit longer, hm?" He muttered, pressing your thighs against your chest. "Just a bit, fuck, let me breed you again, yeah? It's your Hokage's order."
And how could you call yourself a good assistant if you didn't fulfil it with utmost pleasure!
…I see that town. Silent Hill. You promised you'd come back again someday. But you never did. Well, I'm alone there now...
One wrong turn can truly cost your life. The map gets lost, roads loop around, and every sign leads to the same town. Empty and eerie, with a dull sound bouncing off the walls every night. A voice of your long-gone lover, whom you left years ago.
a part of slutty (slasher) summer
˖♱ ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Pyramid Head!Toji Fushiguro x Ex!Reader ꒱
˖♱ ݁˖ content & warnings: ꒰ Silent Hill AU :: not accurate with the game :: set in late 80s :: small town mystery :: horror :: yandere motifs :: obsessiveness :: possessiveness :: psycho ex Toji :: like PSYCHO :: guilt tripping :: manipulation :: blood :: murders :: mentions of past kidnapping :: side character's death (someone from jjk) :: memory loss :: reader is also a bit crazy :: rough sex :: belly bulges :: HEAVY breeding kink :: it's kinda nasty :: Toji is MONSTROUS :: like two meters tall and super heavy ꒱
˖♱ ݁˖ notes: I pondered whether I should post this story. It seemed a bit too dark and bloody at first, and really freaky, but I decided it's a horror, so the horror vibe should be kept...
"I love you so much, baby."
His deep-voiced kisses warmed the skin of your neck.
"I love you so fucking much."
Big hands gripped your hips tighter. Massive body leaned towards your arched back, lips leaving drenched kisses along your spine.
"My beautiful girl, my love."
He moved your body with a brutal tenderness, letting another moan escape your throat. The darkness of the tiny room blinded your sight; the bed hit the old walls, the wood coming off with a pinching needle.
His warm breath mixed with your cries, chest pressed to your back, pounding with the warmth and maddening adoration. The deep thrusts made your spine tingle, eyes looking over your shoulder only to get covered by the petal kisses of his.
"Tell me how much you love me." He demanded, biting into your shoulder. "Baby, tell me you'll never leave me."
Your answer came through the thick fog, inaudible and incomprehensible. Whatever you said, he chuckled, a low groan in your ear.
You said something - a name.
But its letters fell into something unclear, confusing. Swelling your heart in an utterly familiar way, yet long-forgotten by your mind.
"I won't," you cried, feeling a strong arm wrap around your neck. "I won't leave, you…"
A low chuckle tickled your earlobe as the thrusts grew faster. More brutal, waving your body through the mattress, with a few little kisses of sunshine wrapping your holding hands.
"Wake up, baby," he whispered. "Wake up…"
"Hey, wake up!" Someone pinched your arm, immediately bringing you back from the deep slumber.
The car was rolling slowly along the forest road, all your friends arguing about something that was still understandable to your still-dizzy mind.
A low "Auch" slipped past your lips when Shoko accidentally hit your ribs with an elbow.
"Sorry," she sighed, bending double to check whether the thing they were all looking for was under the seat. "It's not here either."
Suguru, in the driver's seat, sighed and slammed his fist against the wheel. "Satoru, you're such an fucking idiot."
Cursing in the passenger seat, Satoru checked his bag again and again before opening the glove box. Long fingers searched through the condoms and stacks of cigarettes, still not finding the thing everyone was frantically looking for.
"I swear, I left it here," Satoru groaned, pointing at the box.
"What's going on?" You murmured, peeking at Shoko, pinching the bridge of her nose.
She sighed. "Satoru lost the map."
Your eyes widened and lips fell open as you shot a deathly look towards your friend. "What?! Satoru, please tell me you're joking!"
He looked over his shoulder. Milky hair brushed his forehead, and ocean eyes were already squinted in irritation. "I told all of you that giving me a map is not a good idea!"
Utahime, sitting next to Shoko, snorted, and Choso, with Yuki occupying the third row of the van, joined her with mumbled groans.
"Are you five? How could you lose the map?" Utahime groaned, pressing palms to her eyes. "Oh my god, so what now?"
You felt a shiver drip down your spine as the sizzling sun, which had burned your skin just moments before, slipped into a slumber and suddenly disappeared. Instead, a fog rose. It curled and wrapped around Suguru's old van, which was meant to take you straight to the campsite. The rest of the group should already be there, but you still had about two hours of driving.
"Look, the road can't be that fucking complicated," Yuki said, pulling herself up and resting her arms on your headrest. "Let's just drive straight until we find another petrol station. I'm sure they'll have some maps."
Suguru bit the inside of his cheek, cursing under his breath. "We're lost. I know it because that's the third time I've passed this car park."
Everyone leaned towards the right side of the car, following the small spot. The low, stony wall separated it from the slippery cliff overlooking a dense forest. A small body of water, a lake of some sort, peeked through the bending trees, yet the fog was too dense to see it clearly.
He stopped the van at the parking lot, no other soul around.
You wiped your eyes and yawned, opening the van's heavy door.
The air felt cold and crisp, sending shivers down your spine and pinching naked arms with little needles. You took the hoodie from your suitcase, pulling the soft, pinkish material over your top-clothed body. You stepped into the muddy pool in the white trainers, and a groany sigh slipped past your lips as you walked towards the stony wall.
Shoko joined you, a thin cigarette already lit between her fingers, before taking the first draw.
"I did not prepare clothes for such nasty weather," Utahime joined you, curling herself into Shoko's side. "Fuck, where the hell are we? It's been only an hour since we entered the forest. I was literally melting on that station."
Satoru and Suguru were still snapping at each other inside the car, while Choso and Yuki settled on the hood. With an old map from five years ago that was found in the trunk, they started scribbling a new one. They fought like an old couple, with Choso trying to draw neat lines and Yuki pointing her finger at the roads which were no longer used.
You chuckled, turning back to admire the heavy, misty view unfolding before your eyes. A gentle wind carried whispers, and an earthy smell tickled your nostrils. Your foot kicked the little pebble as it rolled and rolled, till it finally fell through the crack in an old stony wall. Trees whistled, a few branches creaking under the gentle mass of the rising fog.
"Are you okay?" Shoko's low voice suddenly brought you back.
Your head turned, a weak smile tugging on your lips. "Yeah, just a bad dream."
Grey smoke curled around her sweet face, brushed with long chestnut hair, slumber eyes trying to decode the restlessness beaming from your gaze.
"You were talking through your sleep."
Another pebble fell down the cliff as you kicked them one by one. Hands deep in the warm sweatpants, you thanked the god for wearing them instead of the shorts.
"Really? Sorry, sometimes it happens."
Shoko hummed, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. Sometimes.
"You were repeating someone's name."
You bit the plush inside of your cheek, still looking down at your muddy shoes. A visible feeling of curiosity beamed off her eyes, while lips curled around the head of the cigarette. Another cloud of smoke mixed with the fog before she shyly, almost awkwardly, brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
You could already sense her next questions. After all, you've been friends for the past four years, and she'd never heard the name you sometimes repeated in your sleep.
Years of sharing the rented apartment, years of hearing your wailings and cries, always leading to one word only.
"So," she started, helping you kick the pebbles through the crack in the wall. "Do you want to share who's To–"
"Hey everyone!" Choso suddenly called, immediately getting your attention.
Shoko's lips fell into an awkward line before she turned with a muttered curse. In the depth of your mind, you thanked Choso for the timing and whispered, "Sorry, let's talk later," to your dear friend.
"What is it?" Suguru asked, slamming his van's door.
Everyone walked closer to Choso and Yuki, crouching over the old map.
"Here," Choso's finger landed on a crossed mark. "That's where we currently are. And here is the road we should take," he traced the thin line, at some point going outside the forest.
"Great, then let's go," Satoru clasped, turning back towards the passenger's seat.
"Wait," Choso muttered with furrowed brows. "The problem is, this forest road was cut off years ago. We shouldn't even be here. In fact, after leaving the gas station, we were supposed to go here," his finger pointed at the road that went around the dense forest, far away from the coastline stretching behind your hunched backs.
A low fuck slipped past Suguru's lips as he gave a bitter laugh. Satoru took a step back, both hands high in the air – either ready to fight the wrath bubbling beneath Suguru's chest or trying to justify himself for the tenth time.
"I didn't tell you to go through the forest."
Suguru shot him a glare as he bit the soft inside of his cheek. The gentle wind brushed his dishevelled hair, and lavender eyes squinted at his friend.
"I know. I just naturally thought we were supposed to go this way," he squatted with a sigh, head hanging low between his slumped shoulders. "Should we go back to the station?"
"Actually…" Utahime's pitched voice slashed through the foggy air as she pointed her finger at something down the stony wall. "I see a silhouette of the church. Maybe there's a city we can check. I guess they will know the way out of the forest."
Choso's forehead wrinkled as he looked at the map more closely. Finger tracing the point you were supposed to be at, before a faint oh fell from his lips.
"You're right. There is some town here," his hazelnut eyes squinted, a few locks of long hair brushed the pale cheek. "But I can't read the name. There's a coffee stain."
He glanced up at Yuki's cherry cheeks.
"Sorry," she giggled. "I may or may not have spilt a few droplets on it this morning."
She kissed his cheek with a sweet pout before hugging the hoodie closer around her arms. The weather wasn't strictly cold, yet an unpleasant chill bit at everyone's skin, and a nippy fog gently hugged the shivering bodies.
There was something utterly grim yet beautiful about it. The way it floated with an unbothered air, as if gliding over the serene lake and the humming trees long before the dimmed light kissed the chilly earth. It rose high, hugging your ankles, calves, and thighs, as if slowly smooching your skin with frozen kisses.
It moved with you and changed with you, each step dissipating the weak puffs of hazy gloominess before it wrapped itself around you again.
You hid hands in the pockets before covering head with a hood.
"Should we go then?" Shoko sighed, squinting to see the pointed, crossed roof of the church. "Maybe they also have a new map."
A set of old wooden stairs led down towards the little town settled deep in the forest. You had no other option, so, with a heavy sigh, Suguru took a few things from the trunk.
"Here," he said, giving you, Choso, and Utahime a flashlight. "Try not to twist your ankle on this mud."
That said, he slowly walked down the stairs.
A drenched, narrow forest path led deeper into the woods. Trees bent and creaked wickedly over your bodies, humming the melody of long-forgotten memories. Each step rose a wet squelch into the air, as all of you walked in silence, following Suguru carefully.
He bickered with Satoru like an old couple, murmurs and hisses being the only sounds that mixed with the scrape of the old branches.
And as you walked, with each step wetter than the last and the narrow path nearing closer to the old church, something in your chest panged.
Head felt dizzy, almost heavy, as if the trees you passed, the leaves sticking to your shoes, the earthy smell and the old, stony church were a part of some distant memory. The one you tried to forget for a long, long time, as if your mind had simply erased it.
A name of some sort was at the tip of your tongue.
And the deeper you walked, the closer it was slipping towards your lips.
The silence stretched as you left the dense forest and walked next to the first glimmers of the town. Abandoned ranches, a windmill, a cemetery, a church that stood tall and spooky, towering over the gravelly road.
"Why is the fog getting denser?" Utahime shivered, trying to disperse it with her hand. "What is this place?"
Solely shadows and silhouettes appeared on the horizon, with a few more old ranches passing by as you walked deeper. There was no way to tell where you were or which way you were going – the land was cold and wrapped in fog, leaving no option but to immerse yourself blindly.
Something sinister hung in the air. Something that made your chest tighten and tongue fill the inside of the cheek, as if those two words you tried to remember were already tickling its tip.
"Is that a fucking cemetery?" Satoru muttered before he tripped over the small grave. "Fuck, sorry."
Suguru lit the way with the flashlight, casting a few flickers towards the old, long-forgotten tombs.
You've read them, one by one, each letter feeling almost familiar. As if some of them were already deeply carved into your mind, yet closed by a mysterious spell of some sort.
S… the name surely had an s…
"Choso, are you sure we're going the right way?" Satoru asked, instantly pulling a snort from Suguru's throat.
"That's rich coming from you," he muttered, ignoring his friend's deadly glare.
Choso lit the map, hazelnut eyes squinting as if trying to check your position. But as it was rather clear – he couldn't. For the town was simply too small and too unknown for the map to show its narrow, old roads exactly.
"We're on a good path. I guess."
"It's not like we have any other option," Yuki muttered, a grim tugging on her lips as she traced all the neglected stones. "But looking at this place, I'm not sure whether there's any civilisation."
And there was also an H… yes… S and H…
"A ghost town?" Shoko wondered out loud, lighting another cigarette. "That sounds fun."
Utahime, wrapped around her arm, trembling and shivering either from the cold or from fear, furrowed her brow. "Don't say that! This place is terrifying. I would much rather go back to the gas station."
S… hmm… S-s-s-s…
A light pinch to your arm brought you back from your thoughts, and you quickly looked at Shoko. She pushed Utahime towards Yuki, then slowed her pace and led you to the back.
"Are you okay? You're doing this again," she said, hooking her arm under yours.
Grey smoke mixed with the fog, its density only worsening. You didn't even notice she was observing your crazy, private murmurs to yourself all this time, and so a warmth kissed your neck.
"Just tired," you lied, sending her a weak smile. "It's just that…" I feel like I know this place. "I didn't get much sleep. I'm fine."
She pouted, taking another long drag. Her cheeks flushed sweetly beneath the chilly pinching, arms brushed yours. Lying to her felt horrible, nipping little needled into your aching chest.
Yet explaining the sudden fog that filled your mind seemed too difficult. First of all, it was something you wished to unravel yourself – this eerie sensation that tried to guide you towards a memory that warmed your heart with a pleasant flame.
Similar to the one you felt during the dream – hot and tender, with the name of the man who traced the loving kisses down your weeping spine.
The man who felt so familiar yet distant, plaguing your dreams for the past year. His face was never there, as if your mind had simply erased it.
"If you say so," Shoko sighed. "Oh, everyone. There's some board over there!"
All three lighters turned to a washed-green metal sign and… and your heart stopped.
"Silent Hill," Suguru read.
The air felt as if it had suddenly slipped into something heavier, colder, sending a wave of shivers through everyone's spines.
"Silent indeed," Satoru tried to relax the atmosphere, yet his pale cheeks turned cherry-red.
Silent Hill.
A soft, almost inaudible oh fell past your lips, yet everyone turned their heads to peek at your frozen, plagued-by-dread face.
With eyes bulging and lower lip trembling, you shifted your gaze from the old sign and looked farther towards the road. The fogged houses, abandoned and wrecked, looked so familiar. The mill, the church, the weeping willow hanging somewhere on the horizon. Long, slender branches weeping silently as the fog brushed them gently.
Something in your mind unlocked.
A memory of something, someone. And with it, the various sensations washed over you one by one. Dread of a sort, yet mixed with the passion that swelled your heart with the maddening, almost threatening temptation.
"What is it?" Shoko asked, squeezing your arm. "Do you know this place?"
A minute had passed before your short nod made everyone take a deep, whistling breath.
"It's my home," you mumbled, taking a step closer.
You walked slowly along the concrete road, with nothing but fog guiding you farther into the familiar, earthy smell swirling in the chilly air.
"Your home–"
Yuki started, but you quickly interrupted. "I was born here. I left this place five years ago, just before going for graduate school."
"Why?" Utahime tilted her head as everyone passed the old sign and followed you deep into the town.
You shrugged, passing the old university, now looking more deserted than ever. The old, creamy building was coated in dark smoke, as if someone had attempted to burn it.
Some memories, old and eerie, flashed through your mind, but you simply couldn't piece them together into a coherent picture. As if whatever happened here, in the town where you spent over twenty years of your life, was too scarring for your mind to remember.
As if the horrors you went through simply vanished from your memory, as if blotted out by the thick, unremovable marker.
You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the unpleasant sensation squeezing your heart.
"I don't know," you answered honestly. "My parents told me I had an accident just after finishing my bachelor's degree. I only remember my life after moving cities. Whatever happened here…" you sighed, seeing that the hospital, built of deep red brick, was also half-burnt. "I don't know. They never talked about it."
Suguru and Satoru looked into some old cars standing freely by the road, as if looking for any sign of life.
But it seemed that the city had been abandoned for a long, long time, leaving nothing but the mist and tattered buildings.
"I don't think we'll find anything useful here," Choso sighed, opening another car's door. "I just don't understand why everyone suddenly left. Some of those cars probably still work." He slipped inside and grabbed something. "You see? Someone's purse, with the ID and everything. Why would you leave it behind?"
It was quite clear that none of you wished to be here anymore. That the goosebumps rose on your skins and foggy breaths escaped with a shudder.
The air was slipping into something eerie, wicked – not quite cold, but tingling your spines with the sense that lingering here any longer would do you no good.
"We should go back…" Utahime whispered, cuddling into Shoko's arm. "I don't feel good here."
"Well, why won't we at least visit your old home? Maybe you'll find something to bring back your memories."
"And we also need a few more batteries," Suguru murmured, shaking his slowly fading flashlight. "Let's look around, okay? But please don't walk alone anywhere."
You didn't remember exactly where you lived. But it seemed that your feet did, as after a few minutes you all found yourselves standing beneath the crimson-brick gate of an old apartment complex. No more than five floors, with the weeping windows and wet ivy curling around the empty frames.
Another tingling ran down your spine, as if to let you know it was here. That was the place you called home five years ago. Before you woke up in another city, with hazy memories of a life so strange, your mind simply decided to leave it alone.
A small garden curled around the building. The withered trees hung over the grimy windows; ivy covered the full length of the black metal gate. You pushed it gently, sending a high-pitched creak through the air.
Leaves swirled in the thick mist, falling gently onto the grey earth as you took the first steps inside.
"I don't remember on which floor my apartment was," you murmured, opening the old, crimson door.
Leading you all right into the long building. The fog slipped around you, marking the old, dusty rugs covering the creaking wooden planks. The air inside smelled musty and damp, yet much warmer than the chill spiralling outside. As if the heating was still active, with warmth running through the pipes connecting the abandoned apartments.
Two pairs of stairs led towards different parts of the building, and so you all looked at each other with the what now painting your tensed faces.
"Okay, me, Satoru, Yuki and Choso will go and look for some batter," Suguru said. "You, Shoko and Utahime will try to find your apartment."
"That's not fair. Why is no man coming with us?" Utahime snorted, wrapping her jumper more tightly around her goosebumped shoulders.
Satoru chuckled and slipped, "Because you have Shoko," before a low ouch followed after the brunette hit the back of his head.
"Anyways," Suguru sighed, pulling Satoru to his side. Like a naughty child who always needed a trusted adult around. "Let's meet here in thirty minutes. And please, don't leave this building no matter what. If you get lost in this fog, then it's over."
With brief nods, all of you went your way. You, Shoko and Utahime, climbed the left side, as something deep in your gut, a sense of sorts, led you towards it.
And the truth was that – you didn't know what to expect.
Your memories were slowly returning. Of Brookhaven Hospital, of Rosewater Park just passed, of Heaven's Night Club, which seemed to whisper tricksters' hints, as if wishing you to remember all the evenings you spent there. Drunk and giggly, always hanging on someone's shoulder, never on the one who haunted your dreams.
And the man, whoever he was, seemed to be a piece of the larger puzzle.
His low voice still swirling at the back of your mind. Heavy body pressing against yours, as you lay in the small, cosy room. With the sun or rain or fog slipping through the cracked window, as the seasons outside changed through all within one dream.
Sometimes, he kissed you during winter.
Another time, fucked amid the dark, rainy autumn.
When the feverish heat coated your bodies with the sheen of sweat, he promised his life to you over the deep, summer night. With the grasshoppers peeking through the thin blinds, and your mind registering nothing but the pleasure he bestowed upon your slumbered body.
And the farther you walked into the building, the more you seemed to recognise.
Because the room from your dreams must've been here.
You walked up the second floor, taking careful, quiet steps and checking every apartment with a flashlight, each and every corner.
Sometimes, a mouse crossed your path. A cockroach warmed itself next to the heating radiator, while the yellow lights flickered over the long corridors. There were at least ten apartments per floor – each one you quickly checked, holding your breath as you walked in first.
Because after a while, being here felt almost natural. As if your body consciously remembered your way around. Fingers brushing the familiar handrails, flicking the creamy light buttons, walking the old, wooden stairs that creaked under your feet.
"It looks more like a hotel," Utahime murmured, checking herself in the hallway's dirty mirror.
"Because it was," you confirmed, walking up to the second floor. "But it was too expensive, and developers changed it into an apartment complex."
Shoko hummed, opening the first door of the second floor with a gentle push. "That would explain why it's so easy to get lost in here. And also, why some flats are so tiny."
You checked the second floor, then the third, and only when you went onto the fourth did your breath hitch.
Because at the very end of the corridor, a door was ajar.
With the warm, steady light spilling from the small crack.
The three of you looked at each other, each more scared than the other.
"Don't tell me…" Utahime started, her voice trembling as if she had walked a mile in the snowstorm.
You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. "I think that's my apartment."
So you walked closer and closer and closer, each step careful and soft, as if you were afraid of awakening whatever resided inside the still-warmed flat.
And when you pushed the wooden door, nothing but a normal, cosy apartment spread before your eyes.
Opening right into the living room, with the sofa still intact and the crimson rugs hugging the clean floor. The kitchen, whose shelves seemed fine and almost full, with a soft buzz from the fridge filling the small space.
The little, round table stood in the middle, with a withered rose hanging low over the burnt candle.
You stepped inside, your eyes sweeping the place as if looking for the hint of life you had left there.
As if trying to see your past self spread on the green sofa. Or looking out at the garden from the balcony, with a cup of tea in your hand.
Maybe dreaming on the soft bed, filling the tiny bedroom fully. Till nothing but a single bedside table slipped neatly between the frame and the wall.
Your fingers brushed the slightly dusty dresser, and you noticed a few dusty pictures.
All of them showing you.
And a–
"Oh, was that your boyfriend?" Utahime gasped, grabbing one of them. "Oh gosh, so handsome!"
And handsome he was.
Much taller than you, with muscles bulging beneath the leather jacket and white T-shirt showing through his broad chest.
Short, raven hair brushed his forehead gently, ending just above the bottle-green eyes. Deep and lowered, looking right at your smiley figure, cuddled to his side.
A smirk tugged at his lips, and only then did you spot a nasty scar running across them.
He was… someone.
Someone dear, someone close, yet someone you should stay away from. The sheer sight of him made your heart swell with both inexplicable fondness and fear.
"I don't know," you muttered, brushing his face with your thumb.
Shoko was going through the search on her own, and when her frightened, trembling voice filled the silent apartment, both you and Utahime quickly made your way to her.
She sat at the kitchen table, with a few old newspapers lying on the wooden surface and her trembling fingers turning through them one by one.
A gentle, yellow light hung over her head, casting a soft glow on her bulging, chestnut eyes and fallen lips.
"I don't know who you were just talking about," she took a deep breath before turning one of the newspapers your way. "But if that's him, then your parents had a good reason to leave this town."
Your eyes traced a row of neatly printed letters. Turning into words of some sort, but the longer you read them, the less sense they made. They puzzled over a piece of something peculiar, almost eerie, that gave you a painful, pulsing headache.
Utahime gasped, covering her mouth with a hand.
Shoko sat frozen, following the changing expressions on your face, as you dropped onto another chair.
She said your name. Whispered, while Utahime placed a hand on your shoulder.
You didn't understand why.
Because the words on the paper, linking into a Five male students and one female bartender killed out of jealousy! still sounded incoherent.
And when your eyes moved onto another newspaper, the world started to swirl.
The jealous boyfriend strikes again – another three lives to mourn.
Kidnapping of the female student – the girl found after a week!
And when your eyes dropped onto the newspaper from five years ago, just a few weeks after you left – your breath hitched.
Murderer on the loose! The man who took the lives of eight male students and kidnapped his girlfriend escapes from jail.
And in each one of the articles, there was the same face.
The one who looked at you with unconditional love, as you nuzzled your cheek into his leather jacket and let the heavy arm wrap around your shoulder.
"Toji Fushiguro," Utahime read before giving you a quick look. "And the girl who was kidnapped…"
You nodded, still staring blankly at the piece of paper. "Yeah. That was me."
And yet you had no memories of the supposed days spent under lock and key.
No, but rather of something warm and fuzzy tickling your skin. Of the warm kisses peppering your neck, thighs, and breasts, as the same man hung over you, wrapping you in a protective embrace.
You couldn't tell, however, whether those were memories of sorts, or rather yet another dream that haunted your mind every single night.
A dream of you loving someone, and him loving you – in an utterly twisted, possessive yet true manner.
"Toji Fushiguro," the name spilt sweetly on your tongue, like a honeyed glaze that stuck to the inside of your cheeks.
Sounding familiar and almost lovable, ripping another large, foggy flake from your memory. And as it fell somewhere into the depths of your mind, the man's face, always hiding behind your arched back, suddenly became clear. The name you whispered in your dreams over and over again, stuck heavy to your throat.
Toji Fushiguro.
A man, a lover, a nightmare.
You bit the inside of your cheek, brushing with a thumb his printed face. Handsome, yet scarred with an intimidating look. Completely different from the voice that guided you sweetly in your dreams.
Before you could open your mouth, a loud, weeping scream filled the whole building, as if it were coming from the deepest, ripest parts of someone's lungs, sending a surge of shivers down your spine.
Shoko immediately stood up and walked towards the ajar door. She peeked through the little crack, as if waiting for another scream to bounce off the dark hallway's walls.
And when it came with the same intensity, you and Utahime joined her.
"It sounded like Yuki," Shoko whispered, lighting the old carpet with a trembling flashlight.
A shuddered breath escaped her throat as she tried to keep the hand steady. But it seemed impossible, with the metallic stench slowly rising above the floors and floating right your way.
"Should we check it?" Utahime asked, trying to hide herself behind the doorframe. "Let's find the rest and just get the hell out of this place. I'm going to start crying any second now.
And she was right, as her lip trembled in fear and fingers clenched Shoko's arm in a deadly grip.
You curled your hands into a fist and took a flashlight from Shoko's hands. "Follow me. There's a hallway linking both sides, we can join them through it."
In a slow, single file, you slipped out of the room, with Shoko gripping your arm and Utahime's muffled cries filling the silent corridor. Each of your steps left a creak as the carpet-clad floors wept under your trembling bodies.
The hallway felt never-ending, leading you through the darkness and ajar rooms – always empty and cold, very different from your still cosy apartment.
Something moved at the end of the corridor. Another weep pinched your spines, and this time, it wasn't Utahime.
All three of you froze in place when a few muffled voices came from a place nearby. Unpleasant whispers, dull sobs, sounding slightly familiar.
"Yuki?" You whispered, waiting a few seconds before calling, "Suguru?"
You took another step, although your two trembling friends made it almost impossible. Utahime didn't try to hide her tears anymore, weeping right into Shoko's hoodie. She, on the other hand, bit her lower lip hard, till a few droplets of crimson blood bubbled on her dry skin.
"Choso?" You whispered again, awaiting any sign that the voices you've just heard were not, in fact, your imagination.
Or something worse – unknown, eerie, befitting the mystery that hugged this town with the innocent, soft fog.
You took a few steps before something grabbed your arm and pulled all three of you into one of the rooms.
"What the–"
But before you could finish, someone's trembling hand covered your lips.
You would recognise that light hair everywhere. With chestnut eyes dancing madly and milky skin dirtied with some sticky liquid.
"S-shh-hh," Yuki whispered, pressing a crimson finger to her lips. "Don't s-say anything, f-fuck…" She quickly looked out the room before closing the door.
Someone gasped, and only then did you notice Choso sitting right next to her. Curled against the wall, with his head between his shoulders and muffled, low cries slipping past his trembling lips.
"Choso…" Shoko inhaled with a hiss before her trembling hand touched his shoulder. "Choso are you okay?"
When he looked up, all three of you froze
With mouth agape and eyes wide as porcelain plates, he traced the crimson stench trickling down his cut eyebrow. His white shirt turned vermilion, and his lip trembled as he looked at your untouched state.
"So you didn't meet him, huh?" He whispered, grabbing Shoko's wrist. "The m-monster, you didn't see h-him?"
Utahime was already on the verge of tears, so she curled up in the room's dusty corner, her thighs drawn to her chest. Shoko ripped a piece of her T-shirt and pressed it to Choso's bleeding forehead.
"What monster? Where's Satoru and Suguru?" Shoko asked, trying to keep a cool, steady tone.
But you could see the sweat trickling down her creamy neck. Eyes darted between Yuki and Choso, one looking worse than the other.
A loud sob slipped past Yuki's lips before she quickly muffled it with her hand. Choso groaned, banging his head against the wall, trying to hold back the tears that were scratching his eyelids.
"They're gone," he said so quietly, you needed to take a second look at his face.
Shoko placed hands on his cheeks, keeping his head steady. "What do you mean gone?"
He didn't need to say anything, for the deep, miserable sigh that escaped his throat and Yuki's storming sobs were enough.
"They were in another room, looking for those f-fucking batteries, a-and…" Another muffled cry filled the chilly room.
"He got them," Choso finished.
"He?" You asked, curling fingers on your hoodie. "Who's he?"
"I don't know. He's massive, like a fucking monster. Wears a helmet of sorts, but it looks triangular. And carries this, I don't know, long, heavy knife," Choso buried hands in his hair, tugging on them with a painful breath. "He cut them as if they were a fucking slice of meat. Fuck, we barely managed to run away, but he's still somewhere here."
And before you could ask anything else, a loud bang sliced through the long corridor. Something heavy hit the old pipes, and the dull clatter rose into the stale air. Hit after hit, growing steadily closer, as whatever was causing it turned your way.
Yuki and Choso looked at each other with bulging eyes before flying towards the door. Through the small crack, they peeked their heads out for a second before closing it with a thud.
"Everyone hide," "Everyone hide," Choso ordered, frantically scanning the small room. "His sight isn't the best, but he has a real-fucking-good sense of smell. Hide somewhere here."
Shoko pulled the trembling Utahime from the corner, then moved them both behind the long, dirty curtains.
The deep night had fallen over the abandoned town, bathing the tiny room in darkness as deep as the midnight sky. The fog rose in thick layers, slipping through the cracks in the window sills. The rain lay a thin layer over the tall windows, painting them with cries and weepings, as if wishing to muffle your heavy breaths filling the lonely apartment.
The noise was growing louder as all of you hid in the darkest corners of the room – behind the curtains, deep inside the closet, and under the lone, thin bed.
Yuki and Choso curled together beneath it, while you breathed in the old, musty air of the dresses waiting patiently in the closet. Sweat trickled down your neck, lungs squeezed, head pulsed.
Not in pain, but rather a strange feeling that pinched your heart in such an unsettling manner.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor as someone began kicking in the doors to the apartments one by one. Looking inside for a few minutes before moving to the next, and next, with the dull, metallic noise cutting the vermilion carpet.
A low groan accompanied each step, as if the monster mumbled something under his nose.
A word… a name.
Sounding familiar yet so strange, only when he stood under your door did you recognise that it was indeed a name of yours.
A faint oh god, fell past Utahime's lips before Shoko quickly pressed her hand to shut her up.
Because the moment your room opened – everyone held their breath.
You peered through the little crack in the closet and pressed a hand to your lips. A shaky, teary gasp filled your tiny space as you saw a monster walking inside the room.
At least two metres tall, with shoulders barely fitting through the door frame and a single dirty cloth wrapped around his hips. A large, triangular helmet covered his panting face, while a vein-bulging hand dragged a long knife. Heavy, covered in vermilion liquid dripping onto the floor.
The stench of blood swirled in the air, mingling with a heavy, musky fragrance that tickled your nose. His footsteps shook the floor; beefy arms squeezed through the entrance as he stood in the middle of the room, looking around it at a slow, unhurried pace.
Your name once again fell off his lips, followed by a muffled baby baby baby, stuck in his mind like a mantra. A low, groany voice deepened the density of the aura he spread around himself.
And then… the massive, crimson helmet turned your way.
He took a deep breath, as if following the smell that slipped past the closet's cracked door.
He has some real-fucking-good sense of smell, you remembered Choso's words and gasped.
His steps were slow, rather crooked, as the long blade bent his back in an utterly strange way. The muscular, wide chest was covered in a thin layer of sweat, yet the fragrance smelled rather pleasant.
Familiar.
"Baby," his muffled groan slipped from beneath the helmet.
You knew this voice – low, raspy, lined with the tenderness that contradicted the pulsing dreadfulness it drew beneath your chest.
The same softness that haunted your dreams.
Your hand pressed against the door, eyes following his body as it came closer. And closer, and closer, until the musky smell hit your nostrils much harder as he grabbed the old closet door.
He didn't just open them, but tore them from the hinges with a single pull. Till nothing but a few pieces of wood hung loosely, exposing your small figure curled between the flowery dresses.
"T-To–"
But before you could finish, his fingers curled around your neck.
Pulling you closer, until you needed to stand on your toes to match his eye level. Although it was difficult to tell where his eyes were, as he hauled you right in front of his triangular helmet.
You've never felt such strength. Deathly, monstrous, overpowering you in every sense, with fat fingers gripping your throat.
"T-Toji…" you coughed again, dragging your nails over his beefy forearm. "Toji i-it's me."
His head tilted, as if trying to register your words.
You wriggled beneath his grip, twisted and squirmed, feeling pulsing blood slowly hitting your head.
A moment passed before he set you free, letting you fall back into the closet. But not for long, as a second later his arms curled around your waist and the world suddenly turned upside down.
You were hanging off his shoulder, with head dangling high in the air till you could see nothing but his blade dragged dully across the carpet.
You've noticed Shoko's bulging eyes mingling beneath the crisp moonlight. Yuki's arm trying to wriggle itself free from beneath the bed, until Choso quickly pulled her back in.
Everyone heard the monster whisper your name.
So everyone was ready to leave you be and save their own life.
And for that matter, you didn't mind it. As the long-gone feelings that had stayed locked deep within the confines of your heart suddenly spilt through the tiny cracks.
Your body hung swaying as the monster walked along the corridor. Towards the only apartment that was still brimming with life, as if cared for and tended to for years, waiting for your comeback.
When he passed the entrance and closed the door with a thud, you waited for your feet to touch the floor.
But instead, he dragged you to the bedroom, throwing you onto the soft bed. Your back bounced off the mattress as you tried to squirm into the farthest corner of the room.
He didn't let you go, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back in. Until you gasped, feeling his massive hands hook under your thighs, only to fold you in half.
"Take it off," he mumbled, dragging the end of his metal helmet along your trembling chin. "Take it off, baby."
You bit the inside of your cheek, grabbing the heavy, triangular helmet with both hands. The bloody stench dropped down the floor together with a loud clacker, filling the rain-peppered bedroom.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as the fog covering the face that appeared in your dreams every single night finally melted away your sealed memories.
The face of the only man you have ever loved loomed over your head.
With emerald eyes tracing the softness of your skin, gleaming in the chilly moonlight filtering through the blinds.
You trembled when he lifted his fingers to brush your cheek.
"My baby," he whispered, a low groan hitting you with a blooming warmth. His massive body fully blocked the only moonlight spilling in, bathing you in heat radiating from his chest. "It's been so long since I've lost you."
You didn't know what to do with your hands, but as he nuzzled his face against your breasts, you wrapped them around his neck. Tugging gently at raven hair, damp against his skin.
"Tell me you missed me," his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, as he pressed them against your chest. "Baby, tell me you thought of me this whole time."
But answering him was much more difficult than you expected, with fear and dizziness knotting deep in your neck. Only a soft pant slipped past your lips as he kissed your neck gently, licking the sweaty skin with a groan.
"W-why did you kill them?" you finally asked. "My friends…"
He knew who you were talking about, and chuckled, pulling away slightly, just to get a better view of your lovely face, with softly pouted lips and big eyes, looking up at his massive frame in panic.
"Because they wanted to take you away from me," He grinned. "Why the sad face, baby? Were they someone special for you?"
You bit lower lip, but he quickly pulled it down from between your teeth. "Answer me, baby. Were they someone special?"
"Y-ye–"
But Toji tilted his head, quickly cutting you off. "I would think twice before answering, baby."
You felt his fingers playing with the hem of your trousers. Fat digits, slowly, slowly slipping them off your hips. He used one hand to straighten your knees and roll the tracksuit swiftly, while keeping the other on your belly. Heavy and strong, pressing you into the mattress with a force you had no chance against.
The fear froze you in place as his fingers slipped beneath the hoodie.
"You don't want to make me angry, baby. Remember, some of your friends are still here," he muttered, warm breath tickling your earlobe. "Were the men I killed anyone special to you?"
"N-no," you sighed when one of his fat fingers brushed the hem of your bra. "No t-they weren't."
You wriggled beneath his massive body as he folded it in half again. He lifted your hips off the mattress and pressed himself against you with his full, crushing weight. A soft moan slipped past your lips as he tore your bra with a single pull.
Toji hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. "You should be happy I didn't kill your parents, baby," Teeth bit the soft spot just beneath it, forcing you to tilt your head back. "That I was still in jail when they took my girl away from me."
Fear, panic and anxiety mixed with the waves of pleasure he sent through your body. With fingers pinching the perked, naked nipples, and teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck.
You voluntarily lifted your hands, allowing him to pull off your hoodie in one swift motion. Leaving you bare and sweating – splayed beneath his massive body, with nothing but a bloodstained leather tunic wrapped around his hips.
The panic echoed through your mind, but the body acted as if it longed for the touch that used to make your head spin from pleasure. Willingly working with his fingers, melting softly beneath the tender touch and kisses, his soft lips peppered you with.
"Those men…" You mumbled, recalling his face plastered to all the major news from five years ago. "The kidnapping. I don't remember anything."
Toji pulled away, his squinted eyes observing your face closely. As if looking for any signs of deceitfulness.
"What do you mean?"
You bit the inside of your cheek, when he leaned over your chest, wrapping lips around one of the perked nipples. Sucking it gently, with a tongue swirling the sensitive bud and giving it a soft bite.
"M-my memory, mhm," your eyes fluttered, feeling his hips press against your soaked panties. "T-tell me, what happened here?"
The stench of vermilion blood still covered his skin, painting it in dripping red strokes. The blood of your dearest friends, most surely.
He ripped your drenched panties off, using the flimsy material to wipe himself clean. Letting your lingerie soak the remains of the people you spent your past few years with.
You didn't dare to move. Didn't dare to fight.
Just allowed yourself to melt under his fingers slipping down your belly, towards the clenching, fluttering cunt that drenched your inner thighs with the nasty, sticky juices.
It felt utterly inappropriate. To feel the lustful flame biting your flesh while spreading yourself beneath the man who had killed your friends just a few minutes earlier.
The roll of your hips in desperate waves, tugging harshly at his raven hair sticking to his neck.
But he was the man you, supposedly, loved dearly those years ago, and it was no surprise that your body, heart, and soul pulled you towards him in weeping despair.
"That female bartender," you gasped, as his finger brushed your trembling clit. "T-toji, wait, please tell me–"
"Shhh," he licked the long stripe between your breasts, across your chest, up your neck, until his lips met yours in a messy, metallic kiss. "My pretty girl. You truly don't remember, hm?"
Your head shook, and lungs desperately gasped for air, as he put his massive weight on your body. Till the mattress dipped beneath your back and a few bedsprings pinched your spine.
"You killed her," he whispered, tugging slightly to keep an eye on the surprise twisting your face. "That's right, baby. You killed her because she flirted with me in the club's bathroom. And I only took the blame for you. After all, I never denied killing those eight fuckers, and another victim didn't make much difference."
Another big slab of memory slipped back into your mind.
From years ago, with a girl, tracing kisses up Toji's neck, as he tried to push her away. Her fingers on his bulging jeans, hand wrapping around the biceps.
You, waiting for her at the club's back door, till she walked out alone and had the misfortune of meeting you.
Her head smashed with a heavy stone, as you huffed and puffed over her body, a rage still bubbling in your veins.
And then Toji appeared – always lurking somewhere around, never out of your sight – hugging you from behind. "She made my baby angry, hm?"
You pouted, turning in his embrace. Eyes looking up to meet his, drenched fingers brushing his cheeks. "I didn't like the way she touched you."
He giggled, nuzzling into your soft palm. He kissed it tenderly, allowing a stench of blood to coat his gentle lips. "That's okay, baby. No one can ever take you away from me. I'm forever yours."
The memory slipped into your mind suddenly, almost like an intrusion, sparking a surge of panic and anxiety that filled your heart with a painful throb.
You killed someone.
You killed a woman, only because of your foolish jealousy.
And the man hanging over you took the blame because there was nothing, ever, he wouldn't do for his precious girl.
"I missed you so fucking much," he connected your maws again, pulling your lower lip with a soft groan. His finger scooped the honeyed juice sticking to your clenching folds, as another filthy moan hit your cheeks. "I bet you taste delicious, hm?"
A shuddering cry fell past your lips, as you felt his fat finger trying to squeeze itself through your tight, wet hole. Sticky juices coated his skin like a spiderweb, yet your clenching muscles were too shut to let his finger in.
"Baby, you need to relax," he chuckled, peppering kisses down your chin.
Through neck, breasts, staying a bit longer to suck on your perked nipples, before biting a small roll of your belly and finally kneeling in front of your spread legs.
"I won't be able to fuck you if you won't open up," emerald eyes followed your tightly shut cunt, before moving up to glance at the warmth hitting your embarrassed cheeks. "It's been so long, hm?" his warm breath smooched your trembling clit. "No one has touched you for the past five years, right, baby?"
Your head nodded in panic as a sly smile tugged at Toji's lips. "N-no one, I-I thought I was a virgin…"
And because the past few years of your life had been nothing but a misty memory, you frankly thought of yourself as fully inexperienced in sexual pleasures. With only lustful dreams plaguing your nights, of a man who currently looked up at you from between your spread legs.
"Truly, baby?" he sniffed your leaking cunt, shifting the air with a loud groan. "Because when I kidnapped you, we did nothing but fucked for a whole week," his fat finger once again tried to push through your walls, only to send a crying moan from your throat. "I filled you with so much cum, we were sure you would walk out pregnant," scarred lips finally pressed to your clit, swirling the trembling button with a drenched tongue. "My sweet baby, you were always crying so prettily on my cock. Come on, open yourself for me."
He sucked, licked, and kissed your puffy clit, with soaked fingers slowly stretching your sealed walls. The muscles wrapped around his digit in an almost painful manner, and he hissed, feeling how tight you truly were.
Your back arched from a pleasure washing over your spine, as he swirled his tongue all over your weeping cunt. Sucking gently on a clit, biting the swollen lips, drinking the spilling juices like a madman, till the sweetness of your pussy marked his whole face. Cheeks and chin, both smeared in the sticky cum, as emerald eyes rolled back at the creaminess spilling over his taste buds.
"I missed you so much, my love, my baby," Toji moaned, pulling you closer to his face. One meaty palm fell over your belly, while two fingers of another tried to slip inside your clenching pussy. "You have no fucking idea how angry I was when they took you. Fuck," another groan of his pinched your spine with a trembling pleasure, as your back arched. "I killed them all."
You glanced down at his wet forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair sticking to creamy skin. "Who?"
He groaned when you tugged on his hair. "Everyone. I killed everyone for taking you away from me. For locking me up and letting your parents take you, God knows where."
The abandoned hospital, burnt university, destroyed ranches – he killed them all.
And as much as you wished to feel some sympathy, all the lost memories were slowly flooding your mind.
The days spent in Toji's pleasure, with his maniacal, possessive love, were flooding your mind again. His jealousy and territorial control led to so many unnecessary deaths.
Some of them caused by your hands.
"Good," you suddenly whispered, feeling an overwhelming, blinding pleasure bubbling in your loins. "Mhm, Toji–ah–that's o-okay."
His fat fingers barely slipped inside your cunt, lips worked on your swollen clit with a groan sending tremblings through your sensitive bud. He kissed and licked and sucked your pussy with an almost devoted passion, massive hand pressing your lower belly to the mattress.
You spread your legs farther, allowing his wide shoulders to paint red the insides of your thighs.
"Yeah?" he muttered, slowly looking up. "Are you happy, baby? I punished them all. Just for you."
When his fingers slipped deeper, your head fell back, and a bubbly moan escaped your tightened throat. "F-fuck, am s-so happy–ahhh."
Your hips rolled against his plastered tongue, chasing the pleasure slowly splashing in your lower belly.
But you didn't want to cum like that. Not on his tongue, when you've already noticed the meaty cock stretching his leather tunic.
And so you placed a foot on his forehead, pushing his starving mouth away. Your sticky juices dripped from his chin, hearts dancing in the emerald eyes, plagued only by the longing and desperation to eat his pretty girl alive.
"Don't test me, baby," he muttered, kissing the sole of your foot. "I've been waiting for you five years. Do you know what it does to a man?"
But you could only smile – slyly, cheekily, as if the girl from five years ago were slowly slipping back into your body – and roll onto your belly. Just to lift your hips and spread your cheeks with one hand.
The droplets of cum oozed from your tight cunt, landing softly on the drenched mattress. The sudden surge of boldness smooched your neck with warm kisses, leaving you bare and trembling right in front of your lover's eyes.
"I don't wish to test you," you muttered, still a bit shyly, avoiding his heavy gaze. "Just p-please, fuck me already. I want to cum on your cock."
He hummed and stood up. His head almost brushed the ceiling, and his massive body cast a large shadow over your trembling figure. He ripped the leather tunic off his hips with one pull, leaving you completely breathless.
The sudden confidence… suddenly disappeared.
And instead, panic rose in your chest as you saw the hanging monstrosity he had been hiding all this time.
Too heavy to stick to his abdomen, yet stony hard and oozing with musty precum. The bluish veins curled around his fat, pulsing shaft, and the reddened head was ready to burst any second.
Before you could change a position, suddenly feeling that this one felt too intimidating and deep, his hands grabbed your hips and pressed them to his hanging length.
"What happened, baby? You were so confident just a mere seconds ago," Toji chuckled, feeling the heat of your cunt against his cock. "I wanted to stretch you a bit longer, but if you're sure that it's not needed…"
He grabbed pulsing head, drenching it in your juices. It already felt heavy, monstrous, as he smooched your tight entrance with the biting heat that spread all over your swollen pussy.
"N-no, wait–" you tried to push him away, but he quickly pressed you to the mattress with one hand.
A massive palm landed on your back, locking you in one position – with hips high up and nipples brushing the bedding. You begged and wriggled, feeling his massive body tremble with laughter.
"Shhh," he bent over, kissing your spine. "Take a deep breath, baby. You brought it upon yourself."
His massive cock poked on your entrance. Pulsing head squeezing through the tight rim of your muscles, getting itself drenched in your honeyed juices. Your walls squeezed his shaft with a painful pleasure, letting a low groan slip past his lips.
"Toji, y-you're too big–mmm," a muffled cry hit the pillow, as his hand still kept you pressed to the mattress. "I can't–"
"No, baby," he chuckled, yet a few droplets of sweat bubbled on his forehead. "You can. And you will. I haven't cummed in five fucking years. Do you know how much I've been holding up for you, hm? I hope you came hungry, because today I'll be stuffing you full."
The grip of your cunt was simply maddening, almost tormenting, and if he didn't bite down his lower lips, he would already tear your sweet cunt with a lone thrust. But instead, he slowly pushed in, taking a deep breath as his head fully slipped in.
Thick shaft swabbing your insides, his hand sliding down to feel himself through your belly. Palm pressing the shivering muscles, as he pushed, and pushed, forcing inch by inch into your weeping cunt.
Completely deaf to your sobbing when you tried to pull yourself off his massive cock.
"Toji, p-please, fuck, that's–ahhh," you attempted to turn your head back, but his hand between your shoulder blades was keeping you in place.
"Just a minute, baby," he hummed, feeling his cock, slide through the tightness of your cunt. Your belly bulged with his thickness, sending another ruffling chuckle through his chest, and a crying moan out of your lips. "I'm almost here. Arch yourself a bit more, hm? Let me hit that sweet spot of yours."
You did as he ordered, hugging the pillow he pressed your face to.
"That's right, my good girl." His fingers opened your pussylips to see the nasty mess coating his length. "Don't tell me you hate it, baby. Your pussy is sucking me in. And I know that if I do this," he suddenly, without a warning, pushed his full length in, drawing a weeping scream from your throat. "You will immediately cum."
And he was right, because the moment his fat, bursting head hit your womb, and fingers pinched your clit – you cummed all over the mattress. Drenching it in crystalline juices, as a wave of pleasure washed over your quivering spine.
He didn't stop. Didn't wait for you to calm down after the first orgasm.
Instead, his thrusts became brutal, almost inhumane, as he pounced on you like a savage monster. With one hand still rolling your clit, he leaned over to lick a filthy strip of your sweat-coated skin. Teeth biting deep into your shoulder, as you cried pitifully, feeling his cock rearrange your insides.
"What's wrong, baby?" He chuckled, noticing a warmth creeping up your neck. "You still want me to pull out?"
Your head shook, teary eyes glancing back at his handsome face. "You're so mean."
Yet your hips started to willingly hit against his, chasing the hefty smooches of his leaking head that swelled your womb. The fat shaft filled you with maddening fullness, hitting all sensitive bumps inside your pussy. Soft walls clamped down on his cock, as if desperately trying to keep it in place.
But Toji's hips were stronger, faster, as he pulled his cock out, till nothing but his tip was still getting sucked by your sweet cunt, only to slam it back and force a moany cry out of your lips.
"Yeah baby, I'm so fucking mean," the sweat glazed his forehead, a few droplets trickling down his massive back. "And I'll be so mean while stuffing your poor belly full. You're not leaving this room until I get you fucking, pregnant."
You moaned, rolling your hips to feel more of his monstrosity brush against your sweet spot. Eyes rolled back and mouth agape, a thread of crystal spit trickling down your chin.
Toji laughed, seeing your fucked-out face drooling into the pillow. "And you're going to thank me for it, right, baby?"
He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gently nodded your head. "Yeah, my sweet girl. You're not leaving my side ever again."
His hips hit you faster, more brutally, making your back twist into a painful arch and your feet curl, as another wave of pleasure already pinched your lower belly.
"Try to run away, and I'll promise you'll never see the sunlight again."
His cock pounded you madly, and you could swear that it somehow, suddenly, swelled. Becoming even thicker, fatter, till your poor womb cried from the brutal madness of his leaking head and fluttering walls tried to stretch under its sudden growth.
"Tell me how much you love me," he ordered, biting gently on your earlobe. "Come on, baby, tell me how much you missed me."
His massive body pressed you into the mattress; air barely slipped past your compressed lungs, yet a muffled, "I l-love you–ahhh–T-toji I love you s-so much," still forced its way out of your lips.
"I-m going to, mmm, Toji f-fuck–"
He chuckled, rolling your clit between his fingers. Cock ravishing your pussy brutally, another wave of cum already splashing in your lower belly, as he put all his massive weight onto your poor, trembling body.
The fat shaft sat heavily inside the sweet warmth of your cunt, nuzzling itself deep against the swollen womb.
And within another second – he finally came.
Or likely burst, painting your insides white, with thick, hefty spurts of sticky seed, filling the little belly pouch. Stuffing your womb full, just as he promised, till the cum started leaking past the veiny shaft swallowed fully by your weeping pussy.
Trembles after trembles flooded your spine, as he whispered sweet little nothing to your crying cheeks. Kissing away the salty droplets, before he rolled you over and folded you in half.
"Toji, i-it hurts," you wept, yet still softening from pleasure under his touch.
He didn't need another minute, not even a second, as his cock hardened a moment after seeing your puffy, lovely face.
"What hurts, baby?" He cooed, licking your soft cheeks. "Tell me, what's the matter?"
You pressed your hand to your lower belly, feeling the waves of his cum splashing inside your pulsing womb. "It's too much. Mhmmm, Toji, I can't do it a-again."
But he simply didn't give you any mind. Knowing how much pleasure you always took from being manhandled like a rag doll. Getting stuffed full, till the nausea hit your throat from the taste of his cum and cunt leaked for whole weeks.
And if you haven't remembered it yet, he simply needs to remind you.
So he did – over and over again. Until you truly became nothing but a doll, liquefying in his beefy arms and weeping sweetly as you rode his massive, gut-turning cock. And although your face was swollen from constant sobbing, your heart swelled with maddening, almost terrifying adoration.
Or a torment, maybe, towards a man whom you should rather hate than care for.
The Victorian-style house looked a bit creepy, but rather cute. Very pinkish. Perfectly serene for your remote job and longing for silence. And everything would be wonderful if not for this little weird doll that looks like you and a small door in the living room, leading to... nowhere? And what about those two guys who lived here sixty years ago?
˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: Satosugu x F!Reader
˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnigs for this chapter: ꒰ Coraline AU :: reader is a horror writer :: dark and eerie atmosphere :: victorian house :: a weird doll :: appearence of Satoru and Suguru :: they have button eyes :: Satoru is just a housewife :: the eerie well :: small town mystery :: Sukuna is a dickhead :: 7k words ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ notes: Apologies for such a delay! I was busy with life :( I suggest reading the series in the evening!
masterlist ˖𖦹 ݁˖
──── chapter two 🗝
Soft wind bounced off the window and woke you early in the morning. The non-stopping rain painted the old glass in harsh strokes, crystal droplets running down the pink, slippery eaves.
Usually, you would allow gentle smooches of sunshine to wake you from your dreamy slumber. Yet that morning, a light pit-pat-pit-pat tickled your eardrums before the sun had even fully risen. You looked over your shoulder, seeing a thin fog curling in front of your windows, clinging softly to their crying surface.
It might have been the worst summer of your life, with little to no warmth seeping through the light bedsheets you brought with you. The winter one was yet to be bought, and so you wondered whether it was time to make a short trip to the town.
The old car, with scraped midnight paint and a hump that made it look like a beetle, would be brought under your house by tomorrow. And so it meant spending another night squirming under the thin summer sheet, trying to warm yourself with the woollen pyjamas you had fortunately bought.
You looked at the phone – 8:00 am – and groaned, trying to slip back into the dreamy slumber. But whenever you tried, Sukuna's hips slamming into his whore and the latest email from your editor – please tell me you're working on some story – were plaguing your mind like a nightmare.
So you groaned, wiping your face with a hand, before trying to grab the phone from the bedside table. With a sleepiness still sticking to your lashes, it dropped from your fingers, landing under the bed.
"Fuck," you murmured, slipping only the upper half of your body off the mattress to grab it back. But when your eyes fell on the mysterious treasures hiding beneath the bed, a sudden "Oh!" escaped in surprise.
Something sat shyly on the floor.
Hidden in the darkness, a yellow jacket mingled under the foggy flame creeping into your bedroom. You quickly grabbed it and sat back on the bed.
A doll.
Rather soft, filled with a wool of some sort, neatly hidden beneath its tightly sewn skin. Her button eyes, the same colour as yours, looked at you curiously, cheeks painted a peppery red. You brushed her hair, made of soft wool and looked down at the outfit. The same one you wore yesterday, with a yellow raincoat brushing her knees and high boots loose around the calves. A jumper peeked from beneath the jacket, of the same colour as the one currently lying on the chair.
"Why do you look like me, hm?" a soft ask bounced off the doll's eyes, and you tapped on them with your finger. "Where's your owner, sweetie?"
But the doll, of course, didn't say anything. Instead, looked at you with its round irises and pouted lips, as you sighed. The first day in an old Victorian house, and you were already going crazy. Shoko would surely be proud of you.
With no other option, you hugged the doll closer to your chest and, with a light blanket draped over your shoulder, you went downstairs.
The house was eerily quiet, with the squeak of old stairs echoing off the walls hung with portraits and your breathing mingling with the light patter on the centuries-old windows. The woody fragrance still lingered in the living room as you walked past. Your eyes stayed a moment longer on the slightly ajar little doors, as if checking whether the red brick had suddenly disappeared, revealing to you the entrance to the Alice in Wonderland-like realm.
Unfortunately, it was still there.
The kitchen was bathed in darkness when you set the doll on the counter and switched on the lights. Something flickered, something hissed, before the bulb dimmed like a blown-out candle.
"Are you joking?" You groaned, trying to turn the light on again and again.
Hitting the switch madly until the bulb finally came back to life and bathed your kitchen in a faint glow. Well, it's not like you needed full light to eat breakfast.
The fog knocking on your window provided enough glow to let you distinguish the spoons from the forks in the shadowed drawer.
You opened the fridge next, sighing when you saw the meagre groceries you managed to buy yesterday while passing through the town. A few eggs, butter and milk, as you were sure they would last until your car finally arrived.
"What do you think, mini-me?" You asked, peeking your head from behind the fridge doors. "Bread with eggs or eggs with bread?"
For a minute, a few seconds, you wondered whether you had left her in that position. With her head turned your way, gently tilted. Button eyes gazed lovingly, hair brushing her cheeks in an utterly adorable manner. She looked almost curious about your questions, seemingly listening to your soft complaints all this time.
"Bread with eggs it is then," you giggle, closing the door with a thud.
The buttery fragrance swirled over the pan as you cracked two eggs. At the same time, your phone buzzed, lighting the kitchen with a few messages popping one after another.
You peeked at the screen before a deep scowl twisted your forehead.
Dickhead: Where are you? Your mother said you moved the cities.
Dickhead: Can we please talk? I know I was a total asshole, but you can't just cut yourself off after so many years.
Dickhead: Don't block my number or I'll just get the new one.
"Fuck off," you mumbled, peeking towards the doll. Her small head was still facing the fridge, so you turned her towards you. "Mini-me, how about going on a trip today? I've read there's a haunted well somewhere around," her button eyes shimmered under the flickering light bulb, almost as if she wanted to agree.
With a cup of instant coffee and a warm scrambled egg, you sat on the rocking chair waiting on the porch. Rain pattered, plip-plop-plip-plop on the pinky-washed roof, dripping down the bare ground. An earthy, cold smell tried to slip under your thick pyjamas, so you wrapped the blanket more tightly around your shoulders and sat back in the chair.
The fog was slowly falling, unfolding the sad, dark view of the withered garden and big puddles forming beneath the stairs.
You placed the doll on the table, as if she were the only human-like creature you could speak to. But in fact, if someone peeked through your windows, they would see a possessed, lonely woman who spent her days talking to the weird doll and strolling through the forests to find her next concept for a horror story.
The mug warmed your skin, and the coffee burned your throat in an utterly pleasurable way until a soft sigh slipped past your lips. You wondered whether to ask the neighbour about the doll, but Miss Pink and Miss Forcible would surely show other signs of dementia upon seeing a toy that looked just like you.
As for the peculiar neighbour upstairs… he was better off alone.
The rain slowed as the sun peeked out from between the dark clouds. It kissed the drenched windows for a moment before disappearing again, swallowed by the storm swirling over the mystic woods.
After breakfast, you made yourself look half-presentable, changing out of pyjamas into a yellow raincoat and long boots before going outside. The jumper brushed your skin softly, keeping the pinching air from slipping beneath it.
You've never experienced a summer like this one, but the fog tickled your cheeks pleasantly, and a fresh, woody smell swirled in the air, filling your lungs with an earthy taste. Your yellow-booted feet stepped off the porch, immediately sinking into the mud. With a doll in your hand, you started walking towards the woods spreading behind the house.
A hill of sorts loomed over the pinkish eaves, and so you walked up its crooked path, kicking the little stones creeping under your feet. A low melody bounced off the drenched trees, birthing fruits and flowers and simply leaves, with little droplets tap-tap-tapping onto your coat-covered head.
A crow looked high from the branch, coal eyes following your figure jumping over the pools, with hands gripping the lone stick and marking long, writhen paths. Its lone caw-caw-caw tickled your ears, and you smiled under your nose, hugging the mini-you closer to your chest.
The hill ended after fifteen minutes or so, and thus you stood on its top, glancing at the pinkish house hugged by a soft fog. It was slowly, gently falling down, dancing just above the first steps of the porch, as if scared to slip any further.
The well you've read about on some scaryplaces.net and spookyoregon.com should be somewhere here.
On the hill, beneath the old Victorian house, a well was hidden. Where the town's folk and daredevils would slip in silence, disappearing into the hells of the earth itself. It was supposed to be as old as the house, deep in metres unknown.
You looked around the ground, kicking the pebbles and brushing the mud with your dirty, yellow shoes. Mini-you was looking down too, watching the earth with her shimmering, button eyes.
"Where is this cursed well, hm?" You started jumping, and jumping, hearing nothing but the splashing mud. "The site said it should be somewhere he–"
"Jump once again and you will fall right into it."
A strange voice sliced through the air. You didn't understand why, but a shiver ran down your spine as your head shot up. It was rare you felt any dread at all, tempered by all the ghostly and gory stories that slipped from beneath your wicked fingers.
You weren't scared of ghosts, murderers, or spectral creatures of sorts, always more than happy to visit each and every haunted house nearby.
And yet, the sight of a man standing right in front of your eyes tickled your skin in such an unpleasant manner.
"Oh," slipped past your lips as you looked down. The mud indeed covered the large, wooden lid, and you quickly moved to the left. "I haven't noticed it."
The man came closer, with hands tucked into his old trousers and a brown hat resting on sun-kissed hair. His chest was clothed in a woollen jumper, with a white shirt peeking from the cut collar. Straight trousers ended just above his ankles, revealing long white socks and black, elegant shoes, clean of any mud. Sandy hair was slicked slightly back, and chestnut eyes looked down at you with amusement.
He looked as if he'd been plucked straight from the 60s.
"You didn't see a fairy ring here?" His finger pointed at a few mushrooms growing into a circle.
"It seems so, I was distracted," you mumbled shyly, trying to keep the distance between you and the stranger. "Do you know anything about this well?"
He hummed, clasping hands behind his back. "A bit, miss. It is a very wicked creature indeed."
He paced around, brushing the white mushrooms with his shoe, yet not intruding on their peaceful existence. The wooden cover was old, with planks crumbling under the weight of mud itself, and another shiver tickled your spine at the sheer thought of falling into the endless pit.
"A creature?" You asked, one hand poking the planks with a stick, the other gripping the dolly closer. "It's just an old well."
But the man's eyes got lost somewhere on your chest. Or more, somewhere in the deep, button eyes of your new friend, looking up at him with a pouted smile.
His head tilted, and chestnut moved up, to cross with your scaredy stare. "Where did you find her?"
Your fingers curled around the doll a bit tighter. "A present."
"Present?" Something in his voice told you that he knew about your little lie.
Yet you nodded, lying through your teeth. "From the neighbours."
His eyebrows lifted and creamy forehead creased, bending the skin into a single, crooked fold. The gentle rain tapped on hat, shielding his squinted eyes.
"Which neighbours, if I may ask, miss?"
A feeling of doubt bubbled in your chest. Your heart jumped when he took a step closer and bent over the wooden cover. With two hands, he moved it to the side, showing you an endless pit of unfathomable darkness. A musty smell hit your nose, a mixture of long-forgotten secrets and deep waters bubbling somewhere below.
"I don't know where you found it," he sighed, shaking the mud from his hands. "But I would suggest throwing it here."
You froze. Breath hitched, heart suddenly stopped, as you looked at the man whose warm eyes beamed with truth and kindness. But a desperation of sorts, a worry maybe, as he peeked with a furrow at the dolly sitting in your embrace.
"It's just a doll," you laughed, yet his lips stayed flat. "Why would I need to throw her away?"
A minute had passed or so before he sighed and looked towards your pinkish house. "That place is of the most wicked kind. You should stay away from it."
Your ears perked again, in a similar way as yesterday. The little door was a source of utter disappointment, but if the house veiled other secrets unknown, then you were ready to plunge into them all.
"I've just moved there. The main apartment with the porch," you said, pointing somewhere down the hill. "I think this place is rather nice."
"It's cursed," he said harshly, a low tsk slipping past his lips. "You shouldn't be there. No one has been living here since the previous owners disappeared."
And then you remembered about the picture, still warming the back pocket of your jeans. Thank god you wore the same trousers as yesterday!
You put the dolly under your armpit and grabbed the old, crumpled picture.
"Excuse me, sir, do you mean them?" You took a step towards the man and showed him a photo of two young men. "The neighbour ladies told me of them. But maybe, if there's a chance you know something else…"
It was clear he knew them. Quite well at that, as his face suddenly went limp, chestnut eyes bulging like little porcelain plates. Long fingers grabbed the photo, thumb brushing it gently, as if afraid of crumpling it even more.
And then suddenly, his gaze shot towards the well.
A fathomless hole of most peculiar kind, dripping shivers down your fear-kissed spine. You stood outside the fairy ring, two steps away, yet a sinister spell seemed to pull you closer. No creature tugged at your yellow jacket, yet you needed to take another step back, as if afraid the ground between you and the well would crumble.
The man's breath shuddered, and his eyes filled with fear, as if looking at the well brought back memories he long wished to forget. They plagued his mind and ripped his soul, leaving you no choice but to finally ask, "Did they drown here?"
He suddenly looked your way in surprise, as if your very existence had already slipped his mind. "It's impossible to drown in it."
Another wave of dreadful tickling pinched your skin. "But it's a well. It must end somewhere."
The man shook his head, eyes jumping between the picture and the pit.
"Not this one," he whispered before giving you the photo back. "Stay away from it. And stay away from the house. It's not a good place."
You looked over your shoulder, oogling the rosy tiles mingling in the sheepishly peeking rays of sunlight. The dark clouds swirling over the house slowly began to clear, allowing a few golden rays to bounce off the glass-tiled windows.
There was something eerie about this house indeed, but, after all, that was one of the reasons you bought it. And if it truly hid something wicked behind its walls – you wished to be the first to know of it.
"What happened to the previous owners?" You asked, looking over your shoulder.
But the man… was gone.
And so a gasp slipped past your lips. Muffled and shuddered, as you felt the prickling cold finally slip under the warm jumper. Biting your skin till a chill seeped into your bones, forcing another puff from your throat.
You wondered whether your mind was playing tricks on you.
If the man was simply something you had imagined. A spectral creature, maybe, as it would fit the clothes he wore. The flat scent of his body and skin white as snow, looking cold rather than living.
No… he was here.
As the soles of his shoes were still pressed into the squelchy mud and a photograph, ripped in half, lay on the wet ground.
And so another gasp bubbled in your throat as you bent and grabbed two pieces of paper. Teared right in the middle, splitting the two handsome faces.
Oh, what a pity it truly was, and you sighed, pushing the photograph back into your jeans.
As you stood there – alone, with a chill kissing your spine, your eyes dropped towards the well.
Opened, bare, tugging on your curious mind and whispering wickedly. You bit the inside of your cheeks, looking down at your muddy shoes brushing the fairy ring. Small mushrooms stood tall, like a fortress trying to keep you away from the danger.
If the man fell into the well, you would hear it.
Maybe.
Unless the pit had no water indeed, being a sinister portal of sorts, swallowing the lost fools into its unfathomable realm.
"What do you think, mini-me? Should we look inside?"
The dolly looked at you with her round eyes, and with a finger, you helped her shake her little head.
"Yeah, I also think so," you muttered, and kicked the wooden cover towards the well, just to close it safely.
To keep the world here away from it, but more importantly – to lock whatever resided at its bottom.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Before you went down from the hill, the sky had closed over the house once again. The bits and snippets of warmish rays of sunshine were long gone, drawing another wave of pattering rain from the sky.
The crystal beads dripped from your yellow hood, wetting the dolly's raincoat too.
As you neared the house, you noticed the neighbour from upstairs grabbing a few packages lying under your door. Not only a lunatic, but also a thief!
"Hey!" You shouted, pointing at him with your stick. "Old man, why are you stealing my stuff?"
He looked over his shoulder, dressed in a tattered bathrobe and a white, dirty shirt peeking from beneath it. The same maniacal look painted his face as he squinted his eyes as if it was the first time he saw you.
"That's not your package, miss," He muttered, straightening up. "Here, smell it."
He stretched his hand; a white, neatly packed roundish thing was right under your nose as you took a deep breath.
"Yuck!" you pushed it away, clipping your nostril with fingers. "What is that?"
"A radish, little miss. Good for your health." He pushed one of the small packages into your hands. "Here, take it. You look sick-like, this weather does not do you good."
Your eyes fixed on the smelly package, and you wondered whether its smell would fill every corner of your house. Maybe you could drop it by his house in the evening and politely return.
The neighbour yawned, scratching himself on the chest. He smelt of pungent cheese, so you stepped back, trying to keep yourself away from the funky odour. Was it for his imagined mice?
"Right," he suddenly leaned closer. Long moustache reminding you of kitten whiskers, old robe sniffing of something musty. "The mice say you are a foolish little lady."
Your eyes twinkled like two lanterns, and your head tilted. The dolly in your embrace felt a bit heavier, so you pressed it closer to your chest. "Why is that?"
He looked over his shoulder, visibly uneasy, standing on your porch. His eyes traced the large windows still hugged by fog before he moved even closer. You held your breath, the odour of radish and cheese wrapping around your wet face.
"They say you shouldn't open the little door."
You scoffed. Not this lunatic talk again!
"But there's nothing on the other side. Just a brick wall separating my apartment from the neighbours."
No one lived on the other side, so you thought it was still for sale. But you didn't dare knock on the empty door to see if anyone was there. Was the scratching you heard that night only in your dreams, or was it something coming straight from the house?
The man sighed as he had yesterday and simply stretched. "The mice say, eat radish to not attract demons. Sometimes they are a bit crazy, but they're never wrong," he repeated. "Eat the radish, little lady, and close the door."
Before you could say anything back, he ruffled your hair with his big palm and went towards the stairs.
"I think they meant garlic," you shot behind him, watching the tall men climb up the steps.
"What did you say?"
You sighed deeply. "The demons are scared of garlic."
He looked at you for a second, twirling a thin moustache between his fingers. "Right, little lady. So the mice are wrong."
He took another step, and another, murmuring under his nose the mice are wrong, they were wrong, before you could only hear the thump of his closed door.
Your eyes peeked at the dolly. "Oh, mini-me, we're surrounded by the crazy people."
A growl came from your belly as you entered the house. But your fridge was beaming with emptiness, and a single packet of instant noodles was hidden somewhere in your luggage. You cooked it with a single egg that was still waiting for its turn on the cold fridge shelf, and sat at the little table in the kitchen.
Laptop right in front of you, with the word opened on the new blank page.
The cursor was blinking, click-click-click, as you started writing whatever slipped into your mind. But it was nothing, truly, only some eerie thoughts swirling over your head like a big, stormy cloud, tapping your fingers onto the keys to put a few coherent, but more likely incoherent, words.
Something about the little town mystery. A haunted house, a weird little dolly, with the round buttons constantly fixed on your face. About the unusually cold summer this year and the need to wear scratchy Christmas sweaters and yellow wellingtons that were a bit too big and squelched in the mud.
You didn't know who the main character would be yet. But the atmosphere of the house and the dolly's tilting head made you think of a little girl who would surely love it much more than you did. And the way she would have a hard time connecting with the weird neighbours – adults, who always seemed quite difficult to understand when you were a child yourself.
It was late evening when you finished scribbling the first two pages. Messy and silly, but a sort of pride swelled your heart and a gentle patter of the rain made you believe that this story could work. Something much different from the things you usually wrote. Without the gore and erotica, but rather reminding you of the Lovecraftian stories and macabre poetry by Edgar Allan Poe.
And so you saved a few silly pages as a PDF and sent your editor an email titled: a horror for children – what do we think?
"Well, mini-me, how about we take a ba–"
But the mini-you was nowhere to be found. She suddenly disappeared from the kitchen counter where you had sat her, between the shelf of spices and the slightly stale bread. There was nothing left but a small pool of rain where her yellow coat had been.
You furrowed, looking around the kitchen. Whenever you had a new idea, you would immerse yourself fully in the new world you were trying to build. And so you would forget to eat and drink, sometimes even to live – the world spun around, and you sat by your desk, focused on the blinking cursor. Sometimes you would unconsciously stand up and do something, only to forget about it a minute later.
And so you thought the same thing happened to the mini-you. You moved here somewhere without giving it much thought, only to forget where the poor dolly was waiting for you.
The darkness slipped into the house, casting shadows over the crimson carpets as you walked in fuzzy socks. The old chandelier gleamed weakly with yellow light, looming over you as you walked through the long corridors.
"Mini-me, where are you?" You hummed, opening the bathroom.
Tile walls silently shone, and the rain still tapped on the little window over the bathtub.
You checked the bedroom, the upstairs bathroom, and the kitchen once again before finally slipping into the living room. And when you thought she wasn't there either, the gentle flickering of the fireplace bounced off the button-shaped eyes.
Lying on the floor, slipping into the slightly opened little door.
"What are you doing here?" You giggled, but an unsettling feeling clenched your heart.
The dolly lay half-hidden behind the doors, button eyes the colour of your irises pulling you closer with unimaginable force. You leaned closer, then bent and grabbed it from the floor.
"There's nothing in there, stop sniffin–"
But then, suddenly, something caught your eye.
A light of some sort – warm and bubbly, slipping through the crack of the small door.
You blinked, once, twice, glancing between the dolly and the door.
With your foot, you pushed it open and gasped.
The brick wall was there no more; instead, glowing bluish circles stretched deep into the house, with cocoon-like walls forming a long, mystifying passageway. Your knees hit the carpet as you peeked inside and touched the soft structure of the tunnel. A deep, delicious smell filled the inside, a roast of some sort that made your stomach turn and squeeze in crying hunger.
Just in case, your fingers pinched your forearm, but aside from the soft "Auch" that slipped quietly past your lips, nothing in the room changed. The fireplace crackled with a soft pop-pop-pop, and rain pattered onto the large windows. Mini-you sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with a pouted smile. Button eyes watched your breath drop in a shudder, as you bit the inside of your cheek.
The mice say you are a foolish little lady, suddenly slipped into your mind. They say you shouldn't open the little door.
Did it also mean you shouldn't walk into whatever was on the other side?
Certainly, and yet you made the initial move by crawling into the tunnel. The rings glinted softly beneath your fingertips, blending and shimmering with gentle hues – from purple and pink to blue and black. Each time your hand or knee made contact, the material exploded with colour, as though each step left a magical, purple imprint.
When you got to the middle, a low, sweet hum slipped past the slightly opened door waiting on the other side. The luscious smell was getting stronger, watering your mouth after a whole day of eating nothing but stale bread and instant soups.
Finally, with a gentle push, the door opened.
Letting you right into… your living room?
"Oh," you mumbled, crawling from the tunnel.
The room looked quite the same, with the deep red sofa sitting calmly in front of the crackling fireplace. The darkness cast shadows over the Persian-style carpets, but you noticed the lack of tapering rain.
The house, instead, was filled with warmth, this mouthwatering smell, and someone's hum. Melody that curled around your earlobes with smooching kisses, as you slowly, with a fast beating heart, walked towards the kitchen.
Your nose following the smell, eyes looking around the house, which seemed the same and yet so different. A bit warmer, cleaner, decorated here and there with flowers and crocheted blankets that hugged the sofa and flower pots. Everything was much more colourful, and so you felt a sudden shiver drip down your spine.
Because it was certainly not your house.
And a man sweeping around the kitchen was certainly not your guest.
He stood tall, a pink apron curling around his lean waist, his wide shoulders clad in a light jumper. From behind, you could only notice milky hair, falling short over his creamy neck.
You stood in the doorway, fiddling with the hem of your jumper. A second passed, then a minute, before the man looked over his shoulder with a beaming smile.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're already here? The roast is almost ready," He giggled, cleaning his hands with a small towel.
The breath caught in your throat. Eyes bulged, and lips fell open, as you saw the same man who plagued your dreams and raised questions beneath your tightened chest. The same man who was in the photograph, with a half-covered face and cheerful eyes mingling like little stars.
But this time, they didn't shine as bright.
Because instead of irises, light blue buttons neatly settled in his sockets. Reminding you of a sea, carrying a sense of freshness, wrapping around your warmed face like a gentle breeze.
"Who are you?" you mumbled, almost shy, and ogled his handsome, angelic face, brimming with a smile.
His head tilted, with a few strands of milky hair brushing the soft forehead. "I'm your neighbour, sweetheart."
"No, that's my house."
A low hum slipped past his lips. "Well, if we want to fight over the ownership, that is, in fact, my house. At least in this world, hm?" He peeked inside the oven, letting the delicious, roasty smell fill the warm kitchen. "Sweetheart, can you please call Suguru? He's up to his elbows in the garden."
"But the garden is withered…" You mumbled, still not daring to come inside the kitchen.
As if afraid that passing the doorway would force you to accept the delirious yet bewitching reality you somehow entered.
Was it a dream? Did you fall asleep while writing again?
Or was the man, with button eyes and a low melody filling the lusciously smelling kitchen, truly real?
Before you'd noticed it, he came closer. And closer, closer, before his long fingers flicked your forehead. A soft "auch" slipped past your lips, and when they opened, he quickly pressed his finger onto your tongue.
At first, you wanted to bite it.
But then heavenly sweetness spilt all over your taste buds and eyes twinkled.
"Not too sweet?" He asked, and the fact that he slipped the same fingers into his lips didn't go unnoticed by your flushed cheeks.
"It's delicious."
He hummed, nodding his head. "Go and tell him the dinner's ready. I know you're starving, so the sooner you go, the better."
You didn't ask him how he knew that. Instead, pressed your palm to the reddened forehead and went outside, towards the garden.
And when your feet stepped from the porch, a loud, surprised gasp once again escaped your throat. The night never looked as beautiful as then, with the dark sky peppered with mingling stars and a large moon, bending and curving as if touched by a wicked spell. It shone almost unnaturally, with a yellow, tale-like light, casting long shadows over the big, lush garden.
The warm illumination hit your cheeks, giggly, as you passed the rusty entrance to the garden and ogled the magical view unfolding right before your eyes. With lanterns hanging heavily off the fruit trees and clean cobblestones leading you further towards the bridge passing over the shallow creek. The flowers were there and birdies and bugs, with bees landing softly on the sweet petals, zzz-bzz-bzz, and drinking the nectar dripping down the watered ground.
There was something utterly enchanting about this place, rather mystical, as the flowery scent smooched your warmed skin, tugging unconsciously on your lips. A giggle slipped past when a little butterfly sat on your stretched finger, its purplish wings flapping with the gentle wind.
And when you crossed the bridge, you saw a man kneeling over the freshly dug earth. His long, raven hair was pinned up in a bun, a few locks falling over his sweating forehead. He hummed a melody of sorts, soft and kind, drawing the little birdies' attention as they sat by him and listened with lidded eyes.
"Um…" you started, swinging on your feet. "The man inside said the dinner's ready."
He glanced over his shoulder and, as you too expected, looked at you with little button-shaped irises. But his were misty purple, deep and mingling, catching the warm flicker of the lanterns.
"Oh, darling, you're early. I still haven't finished planting your flowers," he chuckled and stood up.
You stepped back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his height. He seemed as tall as the man back in the house, and yet there was something utterly intimidating about the way he looked at you from above. In a slightly less striking and cheerful way, but with a soft smile tugging on his lips and button eyes staring blankly into your face.
"I didn't know someone else lived in this house," fell awkwardly, as you looked behind him at the few planted flowers. They indeed looked like your most lovely ones. "The little door was bricked."
Suguru chuckled, wiping his hands on the muddy trousers. "I told Satoru to open it a bit later, but he was set on preparing your favourite roast." He left the gardening gloves on the ground before showing you the way to the exit. "And the cake too. I hope you're hungry. He's been cooking all day."
Walking arm in arm, you peeked at Suguru's wickedly beautiful face. His straight, raven eyebrows sat neatly over the purple buttons and sharp jaw, smooth yet slightly dirtied with the mud. Raven locks seemed soft, almost silky, and you needed to curl your hand into a fist so as not to brush a few strands behind his ear.
You didn't need to answer as the sudden growl in your belly was enough to push a soft chuckle past Suguru's lips.
When you walked back into the kitchen, everything was already set.
The table was filled with foaming meats and fruits, a bottle of red wine with three glasses stood in the middle, and Satoru was quickly pushing the strawberry-cream cake to the fridge.
"Please sit down, sweethearts," he said, pulling your chair.
You nodded, sitting down on the soft, cushioned seat. Much more comfortable than the ones you had in your house.
"The weather's pretty fine today, isn't it?" Satoru hummed while putting a piece of warm, honeyed-glazed meat on your plate. With mashed potatoes, vegetables, coating everything in gravy.
The portion was large, but your hunger was even greater, so your fingers gripped the chair's edge in excitement.
"It rained a little, but I almost finished everything," Suguru answered, placing a glass of red wine in front of your plate. "Darling, how was your day?"
Two pairs of button eyes turned to you with a mingled look, and suddenly you felt small. Overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness filling this house, and by the way they turned such simple things, like dinner, into something lovely. It was the same house you lived in, yet it carried a homey cosiness that let your shoulders to roll back and lips lift into a shy smile.
"It was fine. I finally started writing my new book."
Satoru gasped, taking a sip of wine. "What is it about?"
Suguru hummed, also wishing to know more.
The cutlery clicked as you pushed it down and you cleaned your palate with a sip of wine. It dripped down your throat, coating it in a sweet glaze.
"Well, I just finished the first draft. Nothing special, just a children's book," a lie fell from your lips almost naturally.
They didn't have to know that you took inspiration from their eerie house and decided to present it as an unfathomable, wicked spirit. And that whatever, whoever, they were, would surely slip into the furthest pages of your book.
"Talking about children," Suguru chuckled. "Did you like your present?"
Your head tilted, eyes jumped between one and another. "What present?"
The soft crackling of the fireplace coming from the living room tickled your ears.
"The doll, of course," Satoru said, propping his chin on his hand. "Suguru made it especially for you."
The charm of his voice made your head spin, and a surprised gasp escaped your throat. "Ah, she's lovely! Thank you so much, um…" You bit the inside of your cheek. Feeling their blank, soulless button stares felt rather uneasy. "You didn't have to. The dinner too."
Satoru waved his hand. "Oh please, why won't you just join us for dinner every day?"
You took it as a joke, and thus a lovely laugh fell past your lips. But it, in fact, was no fool at all, and so both of their handsome faces looked up from their plates, staring at you with an empty look.
"Satoru is right, darling. We would love to have dinner with you."
And the truth was, you didn't have anything against it. Rather, you felt a mysterious pull towards the two men living in the otherworldly part of your house. The curiosity that killed the cat the moment you slipped through the small door.
You knew, felt, that there was something utterly wicked about it all. Their faces, without a wrinkle, as if they were still in their youth. No more than late twenties, surely, with cheeks smooth and a jaws sharp, as they chatted with you throughout the whole dinner.
A while passed before you untangled yourself from their soft requests to stay. To see the garden, look around the house, get another slice of cake. Satoru joked a lot, while Suguru stayed mostly quiet, simply adding a few questions here and there.
They were kind, almost gentlemanly, and a joyous laugh bubbled in your throat whenever Satoru rolled out another joke, and Suguru shook his head with a sigh. It took a while to get used to their eyes, but after a few glasses of wine, you stopped avoiding their gaze.
And looked instead. Observed the movement of their brows, the bloom coating the smiling cheeks, long lashes casting shadows over the buttoned eyes. At first, you thought it looked similar to contact lenses. But after peering closer, you noticed that those were just their eyeballs – dark like midnight, with big buttons covering them completely. Almost as if they had dug up the previous ones, and–
"You can also stay the night?" He suggested, giving you a slice of cake after dinner.
His finger wiped off the cream from the knife and extended towards your lips. With a quick, uncertain glance at his bluish buttons, you licked it clean, immediately feeling another wave of pleasant sweetness drip down your spine.
"I don't want to sorn…"
"Sweetheart, you're more than welcome to spend your days here."
You wriggled on a soft chair, digging uncomfortably into a cake. "Truly, I cannot. I have work too, and need to visit the town…"
"But–"
This time, a low, shuddering voice echoed off the wooden kitchen floor. "Satoru."
It sounded tenderly, yet laced with admonishment too. As if Suguru tried to suggest gently, not to push you any further.
Satoru's lips fell into line before he glanced at the man with the blank expression.
The stillness stretched like a wicked thread as you bit silently into the strawberry cake.
"Right, apologies, sweetheart," he said after a minute, cracking a soft smile. "I forgot that we have all the time in the world."
Instead of saying anything, you simply nodded and hummed sweetly.
They seemed so different, like sun and moon, yet made of the same matter. Their lives were linked in some obscure way, with the past completely unknown and any questions you had about their lives left to blur into the air like fog.
You knew that the moment your feet would land back on your side of the house, they would lead you straight to the laptop.
The search engine opened as you tapped any possible keywords that would show anything about the mysterious men living on the other side of your house.
In a completely different world, where your garden blushed like blooming roses and the moon lurked over your cheeks warmed by the sweetness of red wine.
This evening felt comforting, almost intoxicating, with your belly stuffed full and gentle dizziness already lulling you to slumber.
But you couldn't find anything online. Nothing related to the old secret of the pinkish Victorian house. Nothing about the two young owners, who supposedly disappeared into thin air.
As if nothing ever happened here, in what you simply couldn't believe.
You sighed, scratching your itching palm. A rash of sorts was slowly spreading around it, and a tsk fell past your lips, as you remembered that you didn't have any ointment. That's what you get for grabbing the dirty, muddy sticks.
Rain still pattered on the windows, as if this world and the one behind the doors were of two completly different universes.
The tingling on your spine felt like a bad omen, but the last drops of sweet cream spreading all over your tongue reminded you of the well-spent evening.
The dolly sat by the closed doors, looking at you with the same pouted smile. But also mischievous of sorts, as if unsatisfied that right after coming back here, you immediately locked the door shut.
With the key sitting deep in your jeans pocket and your mind pulsing with the overwhelming experience.
One thing, however, was clear.
You would go back to that house again.
And uncover whatever wicked secret both men tried to hide for the past hundred years.
˖ᨳଓ ݁˖ pairing: Eros!Reader x Psyche!Gojo Satoru
˖ᨳଓ ݁˖ content & warnings: Greek Mythology AU (accurate, but changed genders) :: somonphilia :: obsessed reader :: virgin Satoru :: only a bit smutty :: 0.9k words
˖ᨳଓ ݁˖ notes: I have Eros!Satoru x Psyche!Reader on my list anyways, but wanted to experiment a bit hihi
included in tales, myths, romances
Aphrodite couldn't stand the existence of a person whose cheeks were brighter than hers. The sole fact of a beauty walking this earth, shining with a loveliness much kinder than hers. For how is it possible that the world has birthed two goddesses, of a beauty unmatched and yet shivering the dove hearts of gods and mortals!
And thus Aphrodite decided to send her dearest daughter – young goddess of desire and love, a lovely angel with a deathly arrow – to curse the woman who dared to shine brighter.
But on the night when the moon licked your cheeks cold, and the Mediterranean Sea spilt the breeze through the palace's open terraces, your breath suddenly hitched.
For a beauty sleeping in front of your eyes, with lips parted gently and a flutter of white locks scattered across the pillow, was no woman at all.
But rather a man, the most beautiful one you’ve ever seen. With skin as sweet as milk and lashes curled in an angelic way, making your heart flutter in an almost virgin manner. The rosy cheeks bathed beneath the moonlight's kisses, and a strong, muscular chest dressed in nothing but white robes called your name for a gentle touch.
A sweep, only, and yet the craving bubbling in your loins forced you to go lower and lower, brushing the hem slowly, to not wake the princess up.
Your mother ordered you to get rid of her, but how could a goddess of love, lust, and desire turn her eyes away from such a divine sight? To not taste the sweetness of the forbidden fruit and feel the droplets coating the princess’s skin on your tongue. To pull the white robes down, uncovering muscular flesh bulging beneath the creamy skin.
The youngest of three daughters, people whispered. A maiden of the kindest heart and purest soul, whom the people of the land soon started to worship as a divinity. The one whose face was of utter femininity, with a blessing given by the Gods herself, yet always hiding beneath the long, white veil, kissing her face gently.
But who knew that the pitiful maiden who stole Aphrodite’s attention was a man.
In a deep slumber he was, and yet long eyelashes shuddered when your hips straddled his.
Your eyes, deep and filled with maddening lust, curving like two little hearts, looked down at his sleeping face.
Your clothes were of no use, so you pulled down the flimsy tunic, slipping it off your shoulders. Till the perked nipples were hit with salty air, as you quickly pressed yourself to his chest. With a finger, you brushed away a single white lock hanging over his forehead.
"Aren’t you a true beauty?" You whispered, hovering over him. Till you could taste his sweet breath on your lips and warmth radiating from the muscular body. "How about I keep you to myself, hm? I can hide you, my prince. My mother won't find you."
You brushed his cheek, surprised that he suddenly nuzzled into your warmth. Oh, such a sweet thing he was, and seemed rather obedient too, with a gentle crease bending his forehead and fat cock already leaking beneath your hips.
You rolled them, once, twice, giggling sweetly, when the prince moaned unconsciously in his sleep. The head poked at your wet hole, trying to slip inside the warmth that filled the chamber in an overbearing manner. Your bodies were coated in sweat, and yet his cock shivered, feeling the sweet nectar dripping down its pulsing head.
"How about you let me love you?" Fell in a whisper, your voice tickling him in a dream. Lips pressed to his jaw, below the trembling lips, licking the sweating neck with a low, pitched moan. "My beautiful prince, why won’t you let your goddess take care of you?"
And although in a deep slumber he was, which you deepened with a little, innocent kiss of yours, the prince nodded. With beads of sweat coating his soft forehead and rosy lips parting gently, as if waiting for your thumbs to slip past their softness.
You purred, smiling slyly at the utterly adorable state the prince found himself in. With cock poking your naked pussy, fingers curling and straightening, curling and straightening, as if wishing to touch your mischievous body wriggling on his.
He shuddered beneath your hips, and you giggled once again, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"But before that, how about we play for a while? After all, I can’t have you cumming all over me on the first date," you bit down on his flushed earlobe, licking it lovingly till a shuddered cry slipped past the prince's lips. "That would be so not proper of me, wouldn't it?"
And thus, before the prince could open his crystal eyes, a woman who plagued his dream in an utterly filthy manner was gone.
Leaving him with a leaking cock, parted lips, and a fast-beating heart, already swollen with a mystical feeling that bubbled beneath his virgin soul.
And a single, white feather, for which he would cause an uproar in the entire kingdom, just to find its sweet, mischievous owner.
Just a little drabble, since I missed writing myth stories and I think the reader would fit Eros really well! She could be a bit yanderish, extremely possessive and obsessed, ah!
Two years of dating, three years of marriage. You, Suguru and Satoru – a match made in heaven, most people could be jealous of. You loved each other so deeply that it almost hurt. Although... sometimes their love felt a little too tight. A little too consuming. But that's what true devotion looked like, right? You’re still wondering, while packing the suitcases with tears running down your cheeks.
masterlist
pairing: Satosugu x Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, marriage, husband Geto Suguru x reader, husband Gojo Satoru x reader, Satosugu, yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark romance, pregnancy, kinda babytrapping, anything but healthy relationship, HEAVY smut, HEAVY breeding kink, if I put this tag it'll be a spoiler, manipulation, guilt-tripping, age gap, violence
WC: 6.7k
art by kkatsujii
──── Chapter Five
You met Sukuna during the second year of marriage. It was rather late, wasn't it? However, it happened quite accidentally when you entered your husbands' office without checking if any guests were present.
They never liked when you snooped around that area of the house. Where men were coming and going, each dressed in a suit, all avoiding the curious gaze of yours. As if the business they came for did not need a simple gentility that you were accustomed to from your husbands' daily demeanour.
When you pointed it out, Suguru waved his hand with a simple, "It’s better if you don’t talk to them, darling," refusing to state the reasons for their meetings.
It was enough that your house felt like a fortress, wrapped on all sides by the multiple bodyguards who stood still day and night, as if the danger was meant to launch through the door any second. But there was nothing of that sort at all, but simply mysterious men, who were coming and going in interests you were never meant to be informed of.
"Just our clients," Satoru said once, while you helped him with a tie. "Sometimes it’s easier to meet here than in the office. You know, some people prefer to do business in more private places."
"And it needs to be our home?" You muttered, patting his wide chest with a scowl. He always looked oh so handsome, dressed in a suit, with black fabric wrapping his shoulders tightly, and this minx smile tugging at lips. "It’s not a public restaurant, you know?"
He pouted before peppering your sweet cheeks with little kisses. "Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll talk to Suguru."
And thus, on one such occasion, while both of your husbands were at their meeting and you stood in the kitchen preparing yourself a tea, he suddenly appeared.
Right behind you, leaning against the door frame, with muscular arms crossed on his chest. You weren’t aware of his presence, looking outside the window at your lovely, spring garden, until he hummed lowly.
Your head immediately shot behind you, ears registering a voice not belonging to either of your husbands.
The man was there, tall and massive, filling the doorway with his wide shoulders, wrapped in a loose black shirt. Crimson eyes were fixed on you, slightly lidded, lined with a bit of curiosity swirling behind the dark irises. Unnatural pink hair was messily slicked back, giving his whole, rather harsh demeanour a bit of loveliness.
"I’m sorry, are you looking for a toilet?" You asked, waiting for your tea to fully brew. "Just go down the corridor, and–"
"So you’re the wife, huh?" The man asked, pushing large palms into the pockets of the elegant, black trousers. "I was wondering how beautiful you must be for both of them to never shut up about you."
A gentle warmth smooched the back of your neck, as you knew how exaggerated your husbands liked to be. Whether it was with the bodyguards, maids, cashiers in the nearby market or simply you, while they fucked you each night with the sweetest pleasures cooed to your wetted cheeks.
"Ignore them, they don’t know when to shush," you chuckled.
He started moving closer, his crimson gaze sweeping the warm kitchen. "Pretty house. Have you decorated it yourself?" he asked, glancing at the wooden shelves and the big window looking right outside the garden.
"I did, Satoru and Suguru let me do whatever I want with it," you giggled.
You loved that time, honestly, when furniture and decorations arrived one by one, with both of your husbands carefully placing everything where you had ordered. You wished to preserve the old soul this place possessed, loving the homey atmosphere and nature wrapping the mansions from each corner.
"I’m Sukuna," the man said, leaning against the counter. Eyes slipping to the cup, before turning back onto your face. "Their…" His head tilted as he scanned the genuine, rather oblivious smile that tugged on your lips. "Partner."
Your ears perked up at hearing something new about your husbands’ job. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk about it at all, but it seemed both tried to keep it a secret of some sort, sparing you from getting more information than you needed. And thus, except for the fact that they were CEOs of some company, working with some men, you knew only bits and pieces of what they did.
The things that sometimes simply didn’t sit right.
And so, with a low hum and a shy glance into Sukuna’s eyes, a muttered "Partner?" rolled out with a curious tone. "A business partner, you mean?"
He observed you. Long, in silence, with squinted eyes and this eerie, rather strange atmosphere rising in the air from the moment he entered the space. A sort of mystery wrapped his shoulders, and crimson gaze carried a secret he shared only with them.
"How much do you know about your husbands?" He asked blatantly, making your eyes bulge in surprise.
He leaned against the counter, looming over your body with a shadow spilling onto the floor. Head titled, crimson eyes twinkling with a mix of emotions yet to you unknown, but clearly carrying a sort of… worry?
You ignored the strange feeling bubbling in your heart, instead turning back to the mist swirling over the big cup.
"Enough to marry them, I guess," rolled rather unpleasantly.
There was something in his presence you didn’t enjoy. And the mere suggestion that maybe your husbands were not who you thought they could be felt quite offensive. You didn’t know how long Sukuna had known them, but there was clearly a line between the simple business relationship and the bond you shared with them.
But Sukuna only hummed, with a soft smirk tugging on his lips. And then, his eyes fell on something. Hiding behind your ear, a piece of skin that your pinned-up hair uncovered for his careful gaze.
Before you could say anything, he lifted his hand, brushing a part of your upper neck with a finger.
You quickly smacked him and pulled back, with a slight shock speeding your heart. "What are you doing?"
"Did you hurt yourself?" He ignored your question. "How did you do it?"
Your finger instinctively flew up towards the ear, trying to feel the thing he did. And after touching messily for a while, you finally found it.
A scar small as a piece of grain, but slightly bulging, as if hiding beneath something hard. You pressed on it, feeling a sort of prickling sensation digging into your neck.
"Did you hurt yourself recently?" Sukuna asked once again, leaving you with a shuddered breath.
"I-I…" your mind was set ablaze, and no coherent answer could slip in.
Instead, you tried to scan your memory from end to end, desperately searching for a moment when you could somehow make a tiny cut on your neck. In fact, you could do it anytime – while scratching your skin, feeling Satoru’s teeth on your neck, or simply in the shower, scrubbing your body until it started to burn.
And even then, you couldn’t recall any memory of such a sort.
Sukuna waited, with a gaze slowly turning into something gentle and a low sigh slipping past his lips. A minute has passed, and a sight of your quivering lower lips was too pitiful to watch without a pain tugging at his heart.
You reminded him of someone he cherished dearly years ago.
"Do they get angry when you go out?" He slipped in a much quieter voice.
The thick mist curled over the cup as you watched it slowly dissolve into the sun-kissed air.
It wasn't that they were getting angry. Just… something has changed after your marriage.
Something was wrong, although you could exactly pinpoint what it was.
You thought that maybe that’s how marriage should look – with a bit too much obsession, constant checking on you, and quiet control that wasn't seen with the naked eye, yet always slipping beneath your chest whenever one of them entered a room.
At first, you would notice it somewhere in the way they never let you answer the door, always appearing before you could even reach the handle.
"You never know who’s outside; people are unpredictable," Suguru would say, but who could possibly visit you in this isolated area, unless it was one of their "business partners" or, at times, a delivery guy?
You noticed how their moods shifted with frightening speed whenever you took a different route home. You still remembered that look, that reaction, when they came to your apartment after you forgot to pick up the phone. You thought you had misread it, but when you started going home alone, you noticed the way Satoru’s smile flattened for a split second, and Suguru’s eyes lost their glimmer. With an eerie, rather strange feeling slipping into the squinted irises.
"You’re late," Suguru murmured on one evening, though you definitely weren’t. It was still early, with the sun slowly setting behind the lush forest and cicadas
“Why didn’t you call us?” Satoru added, as if not understanding the idea of you simply taking a walk alone.
Watching you, always, with an intensity that felt too heavy for something as ordinary as you just tying your shoelaces or cooking a simple meal. your shoe laces or cooking a simple meal. Their gazes travelled over your body like a checklist, lingering in various plush parts as if looking for something only they knew of.
Sometimes, you would mistake it for the desire.
In the way they tugged on the hem of your shorts, traced kisses down your neck, only to fuck you senseless on a kitchen counter minutes later.
But in fact, all of those gestures were always marked by a possessiveness.
After a while, you started noticing that they always knew where you were. There was no tracking app on your phone, nor were the bodyguards following you, and yet they always appeared in places you didn't mention in your conversation once.
On one morning, while going to the freshly opened bakery, Satoru was already waiting outside. Leaning against the car, sunglasses pushed into his fluffy hair and eyes twinkling under the warm, summer light.
At first, you were shocked, for you never told them about this place. Didn't write it down, didn't mention it in a message, as the whole point of your little trip was to surprise them with delicious pastries. Especially Satoru, who you knew would be overjoyed with all the sweet buns you would bring back home.
So when you saw him right outside, with a creaming face beaming of a sly smile, your breath slightly hitched. Just for a second, as you hid a warm bag of sweets behind your back and walked towards him with a tilted head.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, half-laughing, but half-worried.
He pushed himself out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you sweetly on the forehead. "Picking up my wifey, of course," he grinned, eyes instantly slipping onto your hands. "What are you hiding there?"
He wrapped both his arms around you, fingers trying to grab the warm bag.
"Satoru!" you cried when he started peppering kisses all over your cheeks and nose to distract you from his finger trying to untangle yours. "That's supposed to be a surprise! Besides, how did you know I was here? I didn't tell either of you."
"You told me a few days ago," he simply said, taking you back to the car.
The first time it happened, you simply believed this slightly manipulative tone and the assurance that you're just such a forgetful sweetie. They were your husbands, after all, thus what purpose would they have in lying straight into our eyes.
And yet, the more similar accidents occurred, the more you began to wonder whether it truly was your mistake. Whether you were simply losing your mind or slowly slipping into dementia, every trip, every quick stop by the market was always marked by their presence. The constant feeling of being followed pulsed beneath your skin, playing with your mind in an utterly wicked way.
The strangest thing, however, the one scaring you the most, always accompanied the topic of children.
They were truly disappointed that you didn’t get pregnant during your wedding night. And not in the next month, and the next, and next, although they fucked you raw almost every night, always finishing as deep as they could. Scooping up their cum with a finger, only to push it right back into your leaking hole.
They would casually weave the children into talk, soft comments, insinuations simply dropped into conversations.
"You’d look so cute with a baby bump," Satoru would murmur against your neck, his voice half-asleep in the early morning, arms strongly pulling you to his body.
"I can already imagine our house with little you running around," Suguru would add, while preparing you another healthy cocktail that was meant to improve your fertility.
You wanted children, of course you did! Just not now.
Nevertheless, you always thought it was sweet. How dreamy they were, how much they wanted to build a family with you. Just normal conversations of a married couple!
But then it grew… obsessive.
Their eyes would soften whenever they saw you touch your stomach after eating too much. They would buy unnecessary vitamins and research baby names when they thought you weren’t looking.
Suguru would hold you a little too tightly when you slept, as if trying to feel something beneath your skin. Satoru would press his palm low on your belly, asking if you were hurting, whispering something to himself, which you never managed to catch.
You could see how tormented they were. How sad, with every negative test, with your period appearing every month.
What plagued you, however, was how they blamed it on themselves. You were healthy! That’s what your doctor said. Suguru was taking such good care of your meals, it just couldn’t be your fault.
Seeing how their disappointment grew sharper each month, you started planning to take out your IUD. They became clingier, touchier, more emotional and needy – particularly in bed. Your sex soon turned into a gentle act, utterly sweet and loving, as Suguru pushed into his mind a foolish thought that rough sex is not good for women's bodies. And although all three of you knew it was bullshit, no one said anything.
And then, a few weeks before meeting Sukuna… you started to suspect that they knew.
Oh, they knew about your birth control, with Satoru asking you gently about any "routine" that might be getting in the way or whether "there’s something you want to tell them" about your health. As if giving you a chance to come clear before a storm that was swirling over your marriage would finally blow a deathly strike.
You would wake up at night only to find them watching you sleep, with unreadable eyes, searching your face for answers you didn’t want to give.
You couldn’t comprehend their full obsession then.
But it was there, beneath every conversation, behind every touch and glance, so heavy you felt suffocated.
And then, one day, you woke up with a pain. Your lower belly hurt, nausea filled the throat, and head felt like it weighed tons, as if you had slept for much longer than you should.
The sun was high in the sky, bathing your bedroom with spilling warmth. Both of them lay right next to you, with heavy breaths and angelically peaceful faces, you brushed with your fingers.
Suguru woke up first, lavender irises squinted upon seeing a grim twisting your face. "What's going on, darling?"
You pouted and let yourself get pulled to his warm chest. "My belly hurts. Maybe I ate something foul last night?"
A low hum hit your forehead as he started drawing slow, gentle circles on your back. "Maybe you should do the pregnancy test? You know, just in case."
There was simply no possibility you could get pregnant, and yet a simple nod of yours lifted his lips in pure happiness. You truly didn't wish to lie to them any longer, but… You just weren't ready to say the truth.
For you knew that the moment they found out about the UID, the rage that would fill Suguru would burn your house down. Madness, but most of all disappointment of learning all the wicked tricks you played on your husbands just to dissolve their most dearest dream.
And so, a few weeks later, you stood in the kitchen with Sukuna and his prying questioning weighing on your mind. With no answer that could truly represent the foundation of your relationship.
"I don't think you should be here," you said instead, mixing the tea with a spoon. "They're probably waiting for you to come back."
Sukuna glanced towards the corridor stretching outside the kitchen. Satoru's laughter slipped from the faraway corner of your house, before Suguru joined him with a low mumble.
"I think they're perfectly fine on their own," he said, looking back at your hunched back. Hot steam floated around the kettle's spout, a warm cloud pressing against your nervous face. "They were always fine on their own."
You knew what Sukuna meant.
It's not a place for you.
And whatever was going on behind those closed doors of their office was of no good for someone like you.
You bit down on the inside of your plush cheek, trying to stop the shuddered breath that desperately wished to slip away.
"I think you should go," you muttered, ignoring the sudden curl of his fingers. "I don't know what you want from me. I made my decision a long time ago, and if you think that now I would consider a divorce…" which would be impossible to do anyway. "… you're in the wrong."
Sukuna hummed, crimson eyes clashing with your heavy gaze.
There was a minute of silence before he finally sighed. "You truly love them, don't you?"
You nodded. "They love me even more."
A low chuckle filled the warm kitchen, and Sukuna shook his head. "And that's the whole problem." His fingers lifted, suddenly tugging a lone lock of your hair behind your ear. A gesture rather intimate, leaving you frozen. "You remind me of my mother, you know? It's just… she didn't have anyone who could offer her help."
He fiddled with the pocket of his trousers before sliding a small piece of paper on the counter. You looked at it with a frown and took it between your fingers.
Ryomen Sukuna was written in neat letters, with his phone number right beneath it.
"Just in case," he said, bouncing off the counter.
"In case what?" your question followed, making him look over his shoulder.
He stopped in the doorway, wide back filling the space. "In case no one else will come to rescue."
☾ ☾ ☾
Not a week later, Suguru called you from the hallway. With nausea filling your throat and head pounding madly, you pulled yourself from the couch and went towards him.
"Oh," slipped in shock, seeing both of your husbands in full suits and a small luggage next to the front door. "Are you going somewhere?"
Satoru nodded, lifting his hand to cup your slightly warm cheek. "We're sorry, sweetheart, but the business calls," He pouted sweetly, and you chuckled, nuzzling into his palm. "We're going to Kyoto for three days. But Yuji and Megumi will stay with you, so in case you have any requests, just let them know."
"Mmm, or I can just go out alone," you hummed, letting Suguru wrap his arms around you from behind.
He placed a warm kiss on your cheek, big hand pressing to your forehead. "Or you can stay at home and relax. It seems that you still have a slight fever."
The past few weeks had been a pure nightmare. The fever spun your mind, nausea forced you to wake up early in the morning and spend hours in the bathroom puking, and your belly hurt as if whatever you had poisoned yourself with didn't wish to leave your body.
Suguru wanted you to repeat the pregnancy tests over and over again, but you always refused. And as dissatisfied as he seemed to be, he stopped pressuring you with the constant requests. It was nice to have a bit of a breather.
Nice, but also quite confusing, considering how serious they were about the whole pregnancy thing for the past few months.
"Maybe I'll visit my gynaecologist," you murmured, leaning your head against Suguru's chest.
His eyes twinkled, looking at you from above. "Why?"
"You know…" just in case the UID stopped working. "…maybe we finally got lucky."
He chuckled, pressing soft lips to yours. Arms pulling you closer, till your ass brushed against his slightly bulging front. "Mhm, then let's go after our trip. We don't want to miss such an important visit."
And so they went, leaving you alone and sick, with the warm rays of sunshine coating your cheeks and silence slashing through the long corridors.
For the past few years, you've never been left alone for that long. Two whole days, without the presence of your husbands and prying eyes watching your every step.
There was something utterly terrifying about it. As if the lack of their presence was a test of sorts, to see how many rules you would manage to break before their coming back.
And thus, during the first day, you did nothing but stay in bed and take the medicine. In the evening, you wrote a few pages of the book you had just recently started, although it seemed that writing a romance was quite difficult when your own heart was haunted by anxiety.
The bubble bath helped a bit with nausea, and the mint-scented oils coated your body with a calming fragrance. Crickets sat peacefully in your garden, lurking through the windows at your body sprawled in the bathtub.
You truly wanted to enjoy the silence. Those few moments of peace before both of your husbands came home. The long-forgotten joy of spending time with yourself, something you used to pamper yourself with those years ago. When you were still no one but a silly student with a shitty job, an even shittier apartment, and your hook-up, who would later turn out to be a cheater.
Life was difficult back then, but… it was yours. Yours to command, yours to make stupid mistakes.
Was marrying them one of those? Slipped into your mind, but you quickly shook head.
Foolish thought, nothing else. Every marriage has its ups and downs, doesn't it?
A sigh left your lips as the water was slowly getting colder. The phone lying on the nearby stool vibrated, and you could only guess that it was the hundredth message sent by your husbands.
There was no one else who could text you. Not since you cut yourself off, locking inside this warm, yet isolated house.
So on the first night, you let yourself slip into the endless slumber alone. With unease clenching your heart and dreams recalling the time when life basked in colours long-forgotten by your dreaded mind.
Everything that happened next was simply a pure coincidence.
The second day, you decided to bake their favourite cake. With strawberries and heavy, sweet cream, you needed to use a mixer for.
But the new mixer your husbands had just bought suddenly vanished. You could almost swear it was here a few days ago – on the kitchen counter, still unpacked and waiting for its turn.
You checked every shelf, every drawer, every stupid hidden corner of the kitchen. The places that made no sense – under the sink, behind cookbooks you never used. And it was still nowhere to be seen.
So, somehow, as if your feet already knew what place your mind was thinking of, you found yourself in front of the basement door. Handle burning your hand with a welcoming whisper.
Don’t go in there, sweetheart. Satoru's words echoed through your mind – sweet and chuckly, yet lined with this alarming tone that bounced off each and every corner of your mind.
You remembered their jokes about spiders and rats, dirty floors, and a simple room stacked with useless things. But you also remembered these weird sounds, scratching at your mind and spinning your thoughts.
This was stupid. You were stupid. Paranoid, overreacting.
It was just a basement!
So you squeezed the handle tighter, preparing for the doors to lock and needing to tell one of the bodyguards to buy you a new, stupid mixer, but then it… let go.
The basement opened.
And you stood there, frozen, staring into small stairs leading to the darkness. Its clutches wrapped around your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer, till you took a first step, descending into the endless murk.
The wooden stairs squeaked beneath your steps, one shorter than another. A single, old bulb hung in the room, absorbed in wetness and coldness, so you turned it on with a pull of a thin thread.
Warm bulb lighted up the room, and soon you could finally check everything your dear husbands tried to hide for all those years.
The concrete walls basking in mellow brightness, multiple boxes placed on wooden shelves, the clutter of random things you remembered buying on the discount. The Christmas decorations, some garden seeds you forgot to use, and a few tools they used while assembling the furniture. Shoes you thought were gone, some clothes, you were sure got lost during the move. Some panties, bras, a sundress you wore once during your trip to Hawaii.
Everything and nothing. The things you no longer needed and used, stuck in the boxes.
"What the hell," you murmured, looking around the cold room.
You moved to other boxes. Garden tools, cookbooks, Satoru's boxing loves, Suguru's books, other holiday decorations.
Everything was so... boring.
And there were spiders indeed, with a few mice appearing in the cold corners of the basement too, sniffing whether you brought them a piece of something delicious.
It was everything Suguru and Satoru told you. A boring, rigid place, too cold and too scary for you to ever descend alone.
Were you going mental?
With all the noises and scratching you heard from this room, staring at its doors deep into the night.
Was it really just your own imagination?
But how could it be, with the way your husbands were keeping you away from it at all costs?
Stressed, tired and nauseous, you sat on the floor, leaning on one of the concrete walls.
"What are you doing here?" Suddenly bounced off the concrete walls and you quickly lifted your head.
Nothing could prepare you for the view stretching in front of your weary eyes.
A person, a man, whom you forgot a long time ago.
Shiu, standing in front of you in a white, bloody shirt, with a glove-clothed hand slipping down a mask protecting his face.
Something coiled behind his eyes. A feeling of utter dread that seemed to seep coldly into his shuddering bones. Face twisted in shock, and feet quickly walking towards you, before he lifted you from the concrete floor with a single hand.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He repeated, gently shaking your body.
Your face looked quite the same as his – dazed and slightly grimaced, as if recalling a miserable end of your relationship.
"I should be the one asking you this," rolled almost as a bark, as you pushed him off. "What are you doing in my hou–"
"Do they know you're here?" He quickly interrupted, once again shaking your shoulders. "There's no time for brooding. Tell me. Do they know you're down here?"
When your head shook, he cursed under his breath.
"Why?" a shy ask filled the cold room, as Shiu started pacing around the basement. "Please tell me what's going on. Why am I forbidden from going down here?"
And you've noticed it. The fear bubbling in his chocolate eyes, as he rubbed his cheeks and whispered nasty curses. Gaze tracing between you and something deep within the darkness, filling another side of the endless basement. The one, where the light couldn't slip in, as if forbidden from crossing a certain border, only it was aware of.
You looked there, noticing that the basement, in fact, was much, much deeper than you expected. With another set of stairs sinking low. Into the dusky pit, with quietness bouncing off the cold walls.
"They don't," slipped in a shuddering whisper. "They're coming back tomorrow from Kyoto–"
"Tomorrow? They'll be here in three hours," Shiu groaned, finally letting you free. "Fuck, how did you even… forget it. I will clear the cameras, just go back upstairs and–"
But before he could finish and descend back into the darkness, you quickly grabbed his hand. Unconsciously, with finger curling around his forearms and eyes filled with pleading dread.
He knew what you wanted.
But he was also aware of the dire consequences that he would need to swallow.
"Please," you whispered, clutching his arm even tighter. "I need to know what's going on. What is down there?"
Shiu sighed, following your gaze towards another set of stairs. "Please, just go back upstairs and continue living the oblivious life. If you're happy–"
"I'm not," you… half-lied. It's not that you weren't happy, but simply wanted to get a full view of the mystery your husbands wished to hide away from you. "Please, tell what's going on."
Shiu's forehead wrinkled in a deep frown. You saw he was considering your begging. Maybe it was a chance to get back on them after that humiliation from years ago. Maybe, if he showed you their true colours, you could at least save yourself.
For him, it was already too late.
"How much do you know about them?" He asked, voice slightly wavering with uncertainty. "Where do they work?"
Your head tilted. "In some company–"
"No, what do they do? What's their job?"
You frowned. "I don't know, CEO's of something–"
He sighed, pressing fingers into the bridge of his nose. "Have you ever met their family?"
Silence.
"Have you been to their hometown?"
Silence.
"Do you know any of their friends?"
Your breath hitched. "Suku–"
"Sukuna is not their fucking friend," he almost barked, sending a wave of shiver down your spine. "Do you have any idea who you married?"
You did.
You knew that Suguru was the head of the household. With warm arms always wrapping around you in a protective embrace and a deep voice cooing sweet little nothings into your ear. He was your safe place, the most reliable person, the one you could always turn to when everything else felt too much.
You knew Satoru was the seed of your heart and soul. The lover who wished for nothing but to pepper your face with kisses and to bend your lips into a smile that would make your cheeks ache. Satoru was the one who knew how to make the deep crease between your brows disappear. How to protect you from Suguru's nasty side whenever you two had a fight. He loved both of you oh so deeply and always, somehow, managed to reconcile his dearest husband and wife whenever the storms of anger swirled over your fuming heads.
And did you truly need to know anything else, except that they would be ready to burn the world down just for a single smile of yours?
"Please," you mumbled, fiddling with a hem of your sweater. "Show me who they are."
Shiu sighed, biting on the inside of his cheeks. After a few minutes, a low fuck it bounced off the cold walls, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards another set of stairs.
"Be careful," he muttered, showing the way with a flashlight. "Down there will be lighter. You're lucky, because no one else is here, but you need to hurry up. They're coming back earlier than they should."
You nodded, slowly descending into the darkness.
One step after another, the creaking of old wood slipped under your skin, jabbing it with gentle bites. It was cold and damp, with an unpleasant mix of something metallic and a harsh antiseptic aftertaste that tickled your nose.
You descended into a big, dimly lit space.
The first thing you noticed was the metal chair bolted to the floor. Cold, with chains hanging from the arms and feet. You looked closer, noticing dried blood on the floor, creeping up the chair's leg, nastily coating its back.
Your gut was already twisting, vomit coming up to your throat.
"What is this place?" you whisper, noticing a long table right next to the chair, full of used towels, tools and documents.
Shiu sighed, noticing a tremble of your lower lip. "A slaughterhouse."
Your head shot towards him, eyes bulging from the dread that bit into your spine. "What d-do you mean?"
"That's where they torture people who cross their path the wrong way," Shiu said casually, as if announcing a discount at the local supermarket. Voices were chilly, slightly indifferent, eyes following towards some doors. "That's where they keep the bodies. If you look there, you may find a few familiar faces."
A muffled, terrified cry slipped past your lips as you traced the grimace twisting his face. "What p-people?" Before he could answer, you grabbed his arm. "Shiu, what people? I don't have any friends, I don't know…"
The room felt too stuffy. Your breathing grew heavier and heavier till you started desperately grasping for air, feeling your mind slip into a slow state of unconsciousness.
"Hey, hey," "Hey, hey," Shiu quickly grabbed you, giving soft pats on your back. "Calm down, breathe. If you can't handle it, just tell me. If they knew I'd brought their pregnant wife to this fucking place, the kindest end for me would be immediate death."
And you… felt the walls closing in around you.
Mind went blank, lips fell open with a tremble.
"Pregnant?" slipped in a dreadful murmur. "Pregnant wife?"
Shiu tilted his head, chocolate eyes following the emotions mixing on your face.
And only then did he understand.
"Don't tell me…" his breath hitched for the first time. "You didn't know?"
Your head shook, tears already swelling beneath the lids.
"Fuck," he rubbed his cheek. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do you mean, you didn't know?"
But how could you, if for all this time you were sure the secret was well kept by you and your doctor?
"I-I was on UID, I d-didn't, fuck, when, I-I have no idea–" your breath became heavy again, and Shiu squeezed your shoulder.
"Listen…" he started, leaning closer to meet your teary gaze. "You wanted to know the truth. Whatever you will see here, by all means, you must keep to yourself. The life they built for you was marked by blood from the moment you met. The guy who attacked you in the alley–"
A muffled cry escaped your throat. "How do you–"
"They buried him alive. When they found out I was dating you, they threatened to go after my daughter if I didn't cut contact with you. Your doctor?" His eyes flicked to the thick metal doors. Before you could turn your head, he grabbed your chin and held you at his eye level. "They know every step you take. Every decision made behind their backs. This," His finger brushed a bump behind your neck. "Traces your every move. They don't have friends, only other crime partners who are no better than they are."
Your eyes closed, a wave of pitiful weeping rolled through your spine. Listening to him grew harder with each harsh word that rolled off his tongue. "Stop, I-I–"
"No," Shiu shook your shoulders, grasping back your attention. "You wanted to know the truth, so now you have to listen. You won't leave them. Won't get away anywhere unless you make a deal with another boss. Do you have contact with Sukuna?" You frantically nodded, feeling the wetness coat your swollen cheeks. "Good. After everything, go back upstairs and text him. Something short, delete it right after, before they see it. He's not a good man and in the same line of work as them, but…" Shiu bit on the inside of his cheek. "His mother used to be in the same situation as you. She killed herself after the third attempt at running away. I'm sure he will help you."
You remind me of my mother, you know? His words echoed through your mind, filling your throat with the bitter taste of nausea.
"I don't want anyone else to suffer because of me," you cried, suddenly craving the warmth emanating from Shiu's body. "I don't want your daughter to…"
He sighed, suddenly pulling you closer.
You hated him. Of course you did. After all the lies he fed you for months. You didn't even know he had a daughter, and in other circumstances, you would surely slap him a hundred times.
But at that moment, with a betrayal splitting your heart open and his big arms wrapping around your shivering body – the wrath boiling beneath your skin didn't matter at all.
He was risking his life just to help you escape.
"She's okay. As long as I'm doing everything they ask for, she's going to be okay," his consoling voice kissed your warm ears, sending another wave of pitiful cries through your body. "Listen, contact Sukuna. If you'll marry him–"
You pulled away, glancing up at him with a trembling lip. "Marry? But I love them, they–"
"Yes, they love you too. Madly. And that's why you need to leave them. The things between the bosses work differently. If you can't go abroad, keep yourself close to him. He'll take care of you and the child."
Your hands trembled; your eyes barely kept the heaviness of his gaze, but your head, as if moved by the fear of everything you've just learned, nodded.
And then your eyes looked somewhere behind him. Towards the door he didn't tell you about.
"What is there?" A shudder escaped your throat, feet unconsciously took the first step.
Shiu looked over his shoulder, a grimace slashing across his face. "Their office. No one of us has ever been there."
None of us, meaning he wasn't the only one dirtying his hands to keep up the perfect world they built for you.
The steps echoed through the freezing room, hand stretching to grab the handle. Thoughts swirled in your mind, clashing against each other in restless murmurs showing you the terrors of a thing hiding behind the massive door.
Their office.
The room you've never been to, hiding all their secrets that would spike another wave of nausea in your throat.
And before you could pull them, Shiu's voice slashed through the air.
"They're almost here," he said, looking down at his phone. "Fuck, you need to go back. Text Sukuna, he'll help you."
"But the office–"
Shiu grabbed your hand, quickly coming upstairs. "Whatever there is, trust me, you don't want to see it."
Because if you did, hiding it from them would be much more difficult than it already was.
"I'll make sure to clear the cameras. They won't know you were here unless you tell them." You walked into your house, the dim moonlight creeping across the warm walls. Shiu pushed you inside, himself staying at the top of the basement stairs. "Whatever happens, try not to be afraid. Keep loving them; don't let them suspect anything. You're pregnant, so they'll try to keep you inside as much as possible. Running away will be hard, but…" He sighed, lowering his head between shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know I was a dickhead. I should've told you everything. But please, get yourself away from them. You don't deserve it."
With those last words, the basement door closed while the front ones opened.
The silence and loneliness you tried to enjoy for the few days vanished into thin air. Broken by the sweet chuckles of your husbands and their eyes, dark and creamy, quickly finding you in the hall.
And when they wrapped themselves around you, arms locking you in a tight embrace, you could see nothing but the crimson liquid coating their bodies from head to toe.
The blood of all the people who died solely for their pleasure. And some of them – because of you.
Okay, so... affair with Sukuna – yes or no? At first, I didn't plan to give them a romantic relationship, but now I'm considering it since it would make things much worse for the reader. And yes, the sex would be included, so I would need to include infidelity...
An outcast you rejected a while ago cannot bear the sight of you with other men! And what's a better place to corner you and beg to love him? By the lake, at night, when you're naked and alone. After he made sure to get rid of your newest lover, of course!
part of slutty (slasher) summer
˖ꨄ ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Stalker/Killer!Suguru Geto x Slutty!Reader ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ content & warning: ꒰ mdni 18+ :: heavy smut :: set in 80s :: psycho stalker suguru :: yandere :: obsessive behaviour :: extreme possesiveness :: violence (not towards the reader) :: emo Suguru :: minx reader :: she's so mean :: murders :: death threats :: university au :: suguru has piercings :: oral sex :: masturbation :: stalking :: panties stealing (ofc) :: breeding kink :: creampie :: oral sex :: pussydrunk suguru :: belly bulges :: blood :: we love beating men :: miserable suguru :: extreme jealousy ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ words: ꒰ 11.4k ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ notes: It was supposed to be shorter, but then I spiralled and cooked another long fic. Hope you'll like it <3
He was always there – somewhere, lurking behind the university's walls, with lavender eyes fixed on your figure.
Suguru Geto was known as your menace, stalker, the man who somehow became utterly obsessed with this campus's slutty sweetheart. A freak, an outcast, always hanging out with his weirdo friends. Metal bars coated his face like twinkling stars, and long, shiny hair brushed the ends of his hips, hung with heavy chains.
Two years of a master's degree, two years of a nightmare, a man haunting your dreams like a spectral creature with eyes always fixed on your body and heavy, bittersweet cologne trailing you through the corridors.
You first met in September of 86'. Right on campus, you sat on the grass with your new group of friends and a jock whose name you had long since forgotten, clinging to you like a puppy. The prettiest new girl at university, a heartbreaker, a slut, which you never truly denied. For it was the truth that you enjoyed sleeping around and chirping bewitching sweetness to your next foolish victims.
And Suguru saw you then, as you lay on lush grass in a mid-thigh skirt and white socks, wrapped just above your knees. You wore a checkered top and long earrings that brushed your neck. Squinted eyes turned to his freaky group once, with glossed lips curving into a mischievous smile and a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Why is he staring at me?" you asked, piquing Shoko's interest.
She looked over her shoulder, pushing a low groan. "Ugh, I guess he wants to talk to you. Don't mind them, probably some weird art major."
But it was hard to ignore the lavender irises hiding behind the almond-shaped eyes and this curious, slightly cheeky tilt of his head. September was still rather warm, and yet black jeans wrapped his long legs, hung with silver chains and patches. Dark tee with some washed-out band and thick bracelets stacked one after one on his pale wrists. Massive shoes could probably leave a hole in your delicate, white heels, and so grimace tug on your lips.
A jock sitting right next to you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, with a, "Don't worry, sweetheart, he won't be bothering you."
But you didn't answer, since he would be replaced by another guy by the end of this week. There was no need to raise his hopes.
The days were passing, and you were soon completely wrapped up in the university's tight schedule. Classes, studying, partying. Classes, studying, partying, fucking.
The young adult life was fun, with your friends always pulling you out of the dorm in the dead of night and taking you from one bar to another. From the local student's club to the cabin by the lake, owned by one of the jocks you happened to sleep with.
But the joys of a student's life – be it an evening spent studying or fucking in the car after a stressful exam – were, after a few months, taken away by your stalker.
Suguru Geto has been following you since day one. The moment his eyes fell on your body sprawled on the campus lawn, skin shimmering in the late summer sun, and a sweet giggle tickling his pierced ears.
His brain turned fuzzy whenever he saw the angelic aura wrapping around your cheeky face. Heart melted when your eyes fell on him, even for a single second. An uncontrollable feeling bubbled in his chest at the sheer sight of a little crease appearing between your brows when you bestowed him with a grimace.
It was clear that, for some reason, you treated him rather as a foe than a man who could pique your interest.
At first, he did nothing but look. Observe, with this devilish smile tugging at his lips and lavender irises taking pleasure in the loveliest scowl slipping onto your face. He tried to keep himself at bay, but not because shyness coiled in his heart.
No, simply because he wished to know everything about you, before making an official approach. Your favourite flowers, the desserts you most cherished, the tight course schedule that always seemed to keep you up all night, favourite shapes and colours of the clacking jewellery that hung from your skin. Of the big hoops that always brushed your neck, and bracelets stacked one on another, chirping like sweet birds whenever you passed by.
He wished to know the colour of your lingerie and how your panties smelled after a long day. To feel the warmth of the bra that had just left the embrace of your breasts. Smell the sweetness of your slightly sweated skin after days when you joined the cheerleading sessions.
Suguru… Suguru wanted to be the one having you all to himself, even if you hated the sheer sight of him.
Whenever you took a shower during late, late nights – someone always seemed to be there. In the shared bathroom on your floor, the one meant to be used solely by the female students. A listener, whose ears pricked up to hear a soft hum of a random melody that bubbled in your throat and sweet sighs when the first hot droplets hit your skin.
The first time you noticed it was when the bathroom doors closed louder than they should. Another girl coming back from a late session, you thought, giving it no mind.
But the silence that lingered in the air stretched for too long. As no other shower seemed to be in use, nor did any other sounds of movement filled the lonely bathroom.
You waited, and waited, to hear something that would not make you believe that a fucking creep slipped inside the room just to await your naked body leaving the shower.
But nothing else ever came, and so your voice echoed off the walls with a, "Hello?"
Silence stood still, and the hot droplets soon turned into the cold sweat tickling the shivering skin along your spine. Nothing, but the thick fog filled the tiled bathroom and a heavy breath of yours, trying to listen for the eerie footsteps that clacked against the wet floor a few seconds ago.
Coming closer, and closer, till you could already see the heavy, black boots peeking from the lower door crack. A gentle tingling of the oh-so-familiar silver chain slashed through the air, and if you lifted your head up, surely you could see a peek of silky black hair. The shower doors were, after all, not two meters tall.
"You fucking freak," a low snort escaped your throat. "You don’t think I know who you are?"
Silence.
He simply stood there, as if waiting. For you to come outside? Or maybe simply enjoying the tension that rose within a blinding fog. The faster beating of your heart, shuddered breath you tried to conceal with a harsh tone, and trembling fingers covering your breasts, as if he could see your naked body through the door.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Don’t be a coward, at least say something," you continued, making sure the miserably weak latch was keeping the door closed. "You’ve been stalking me for months. Don’t you know who my boyfriend is?"
Suguru knew.
But he also knew that the captain of the basketball team wasn’t your boyfriend. Because you didn’t do that stuff – relationships, love, cheesy romance.
So a low chuckle slipped past his lips as he pressed his forehead to the door. Trying to smell the sweet body wash that lingered in the air, imagining the foam that coated your soft body and curled around those plush breasts he loved so dearly.
"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this," another snort escaped your throat, as you banged with a fist on the door. "You don’t think I’ll report you? I’ll end you, do you hear me?!"
But Suguru could simply laugh – deeply, with a vibration hitting the plastic surface. His large palm pressed to the door, as if he tried to imagine where exactly your hand lay. So the image of your skins almost touching could slip an eerie, excited thought that tickled his mind in such a pleasant manner.
A wrath coiled beneath your heart, hearing how much he enjoyed this little torture. Because, if only he wanted, he surely could rip the door off the hinges with little to no sweat. Instead, he simply let out a hum, curling the fingers into a fist.
"Sure, baby. I hear you loud and clear," a low purr bounced off the tile, foggy walls.
The heat made your head spin, body leaned against the plastic door in need of fresh air. But going out now would mean slipping right into his needy clutches.
And before you could snap once again, he added, "I hope you won’t mind me taking those pretty panties of yours, hm? I’ll give them back one day, pinky promise," and with that, the leather shoes disappeared from your sight.
With your pitched you fucking psycho, kissing his cheeks goodbye, as he left the stuffy bathroom.
And so during the first semester, you started seeing the consequences of having a stalker like him.
Your panties were disappearing one by one, and you knew that it was not a fault of the old washing machines in the dorm. Always suddenly appearing back on your bed, clean and fragrant, although only god knew what he did with them.
Other times, it was the white knee-socks from the cheerleader costume. The woollen, soft material that wrapped your sweaty thighs after hours of training. Always disappearing whenever you planned to do the laundry, always back on your bed a bit stiff, with a heavy cologne still clinging to the cloth.
The report to the headmaster did truly nothing, as you had no proof whatsoever that Suguru Geto was your stalker, nor that he slipped into the women’s bathroom. After all, no one else saw him, and for that matter, no one could accuse him of anything.
The jock you were sleeping with back then refused to deal with him another way, for he simply didn’t see a reason to it.
You snorted, the first time Toji said it and slipped off his bed. The winter’s biting cold was sneaking past the old dorm windows as you started dressing yourself up.
"Doll, what are you doing?" The mountain of a man asked with a sigh, stretching his massive body on a bed. "I won’t kill some random guy, just because you think he’s stalking you."
You scoffed at the quizzical tone of his voice, pulling on the warm, woolly sweater. "So you think I made this up, huh?"
Toji groaned, lazily wiping his face with a hand. "Come on, I’m just saying that he may have a crush and that’s it."
"He’s been stealing my underwear and listening to me taking showers for months!"
The emerald eyes followed you with a raised eyebrow, as you pulled tight jeans onto your ass. The scowl between your brows made him chuckle lowly and sit up on a bed, patting the still-warm place next to him.
"Come on, let me make you feel better. It’s not as if he’ll do anything else." His long hand reached for the loops of your jeans, but you quickly smacked it. "Doll, I’m serious. If you were in danger, I would definitely deal with him."
Fully dressed, with shoes on, you turned to him with a low tsk and, "I think you’re too much of a fucking coward to do it," before going out of his room and closing the door with a thud.
Months passed; winter turned into early spring, the second semester began, and Suguru Geto was slowly getting closer.
In slow, baby steps and yet you felt the line between the two of you thinning. With him appearing on your horizon much more often, following you around the campus, barely trying to hide it.
In early spring, he started leaving little gifts on your bed, under the door, in the locker. A pretty set of lingerie, favourite flowers, a tape with music he thought you could like, the… death threats.
Not to you, oh, but of course, as he would rather cut his limbs off than make a single, precious strand of your hair fall for the greediness filling his heart.
All the death threats were always aimed at your lovers, of course.
As Suguru had a little patience left for seeing you change men like gloves, with none worthy to be bestowed with the softness of your skin. To nuzzle into your neck, trace kisses down the chin, and hear the sweet laughter every single day.
Suguru was simply jealous. And he addressed it quite openly in short, paper notes that you somehow always found in your bag.
The mix of, baby he’s not good for you, and, break it off, or he’ll regret ever setting his eyes on my girl.
When you brought them all to the headmaster, he simply offered to monitor the situation. As you still had no proof to offer that Suguru Geto was the one who wrote them all. No one saw him slipping the notes into your bag, nor his ghastly figure stealing all your lingerie.
On a campus, he was simply a weird guy.
In classes, the best student.
For you, a hellish nightmare that tried to crawl under your skin and wrap around your body like a deathly viper.
And so you ignored the threats. Broke most of your relationships, but didn’t quite reveal the reason. If he had a problem with you sleeping with one guy for a month or two, then… you simply had to stick to one-night stands and not show yourself on campus with any other men.
As long as you weren’t hanging onto anyone’s shoulder, it should be okay. Somehow, you would last the next year and leave this town behind. With the stalker hot on your heels and the presents stacked in your bedroom, one on top of another.
The middle of the second semester began quickly, with spring in full bloom and the sizzling sun once again letting you slip away for the pool parties at the jocks’ houses. You allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasures and madness of student life, with summer just around the corner. Only a few months left, and you would get a break from your stalker for the whole holidays.
But then… Suguru Geto confessed.
He came to your dorm with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, a small bun sitting high on his head, and pierced lips curling in a gentle smile, as he knocked on your dorm’s door. After months of following you obediently like a puppy, he knew every little thing about you.
Every mood swing of yours, each emotion, always oh so visible on your lovely face. He learned how to watch you, please you, and say the right things to become the perfect boyfriend.
He knew how your pussy smelled during the ovulation days. How you usually tasted, checking it each day with a pretty lingerie of yours pressed to his lips, and fingers pumping his leaking cock.
He learned the melody you always hummed under the shower and the brand of shampoo that made your hair smell like the sweetest garden.
He found out what you liked and hated in bed, all the kinks you wished to try. The way your fingers pressed to your swollen clit, whenever you stayed in your dorm room alone. How your breath hitched when you were close, and thighs squeezed around nothing, although he truly wished it was his head being squished between the heavenly softness that haunted his dreams.
And when you opened the door, he knew that it was now or never. He, finally, was worthy to ask for your love.
"Hi, baby," he said, glancing at your figure dressed in nothing but a skimpy gown.
Wrapping you a bit too tight, ending just above the mid-thighs and with perked nipples poking through the flimsy material.
A scowl bubbled in your throat, and you quickly, with full force, tried to close the door. But he was quicker, slipping his heavy shoe right into the small crack.
"Leave, or I’ll start screaming," you warned him, getting as an answer a low giggle.
He pushed the door easily, coming into your room. The dim light slipping from the night table bathed the small space with a soft glow. A few scented candles flickered on your desk and the bed of your roommate, as usual, was empty.
You took a few steps back, trying not to show any signs of panic.
The sudden fear that rose in your chest. Breath becoming slightly more hitched, fingers trembling around the gown you tried to pull down. Eyes fixed on him, as if he could attack any minute now.
But he, as always, was looking at you. Closely, carefully, with lavender warmth slipping up and down your body and a handsome smirk tugging on his lips. Long hair tickled his shoulder, swimming down along the muscular back dressed in leather jacket. Metal bars on his lips and eyebrows twinkled like coins under the spilling candle-flame, adding a sort of wickedness to his demeanour.
Suguru Geto was… handsome.
Dear lord, he was beautiful.
And as difficult as it was to swallow, you could not change the fact that your stalker was one of the prettiest men you had ever seen. With a horrendous and sinful character, yet the face of an angel.
So you allowed yourself to trace the broad back bulging under the jacket. The height looming over your shivering figure. Long fingers that gripped the bouquet and beefy thighs dressed in black jeans. The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around your senses in an utterly pleasurable way, melting you in its warmth.
You hated the way he made you feel. Confused, scared, and most of the time simply furious. But somehow, on some days, a bit too balmy. With a heat spreading all over your body, slipping under the chest, down the belly, between the thighs, as if the wickedness of his actions, the sheer idea of how obsessed he was with you, made you excited.
So then, while he stood in your dorm with a straightened back, you decided to wait. To see what other foolish plan would bloom in his devilish mind, only for you to bring it back to the headmaster.
"What the fuck do you want?" you snapped, crossing arms over your chest.
He took a step closer, lavender eyes mingling with an excitement of a source that made your spine tingle in an unpleasant way. Long hand extended towards you, pushing a lush bouquet right into your arms.
"Go out with me," he stated, not even curving his tone into a question.
A statement, rather, it was as if he was utterly sure that you would agree.
And you stood there with the same scowl that didn’t leave your forehead even for a second. Fingers wrapped around the heavy bouquet, nostrils tingling with the strong, flowery smell you loved so much.
But the wrath coiling beneath your chest was dangerously close to spilling. Eyes bulged, hearing the question he dared to push after months of acting like a psycho stalker and turning your life into madness. Everyone looked at you like a crazy, delusional woman who tried to frame a poor outcast as a maniac who, Suguru Geto, definitely wasn’t.
And now he had the audacity to stand in your bedroom, checking your body dressed in nothing but a flimsy robe, as a sly smile tugged at his lips.
"What did you just say?" Rolled in tremble, as you could barely stop the rage bubbling in your chest.
His head tilted. Long legs took another step closer. Until the big hand lifted to nuzzle your soft cheek, strong thumb brushing the skin aflame with fury.
"Go out with me, baby. Let me love you as you deserve it." The silkiness of his tone made your head spin, in both an unsettling pleasure and madness. "And if you don’t want to date me, use me. It’s been a while since you slept with someone, hm? Why won’t you just use me for your pleasure?"
Thumb slipped to your slightly parted lips. The urge to bite it and suck on it fought in your mind, bringing an irrational feeling that made your lower lip tremble right under his digit.
His words clearly stated that he, in fact, did not know that you hadn’t given up on sleeping with other men. Because if he did…
"Why so sure that I’m not fucking with anyone?" You muttered, tilting head in a cheeky manner.
As if you wanted to indulge yourself in the psychotic game of his, fully aware that you would always end up as a loser. Because for the past few months, Suguru Geto was never, ever, letting you win any of the tricks you tried to play on him. The reports, gathering the evidence, paying people to give him the lesson, although the next day he was always appearing back on the university’s lawn. Fully aware of all your miserable attempts.
Something in his eyes twinkled, but the smile didn’t come off his lips even for a second. "Do you?"
You smacked away his hand, and with a swing, shot the flowers through the room. Gentle petals smashed against the wall, falling pitifully on your roommate’s empty bed.
Before he could even look their way, your arms wrapped around his neck, perked nipples pressed against his torso as you lifted yourself up on tiptoes. The sweetness of your skin immediately enveloped his senses, and it seemed this sudden, intimate gesture left him speechless.
"Every. Single. Night." You whispered, tugging harshly on the long, silky hair curling behind his neck. His breath slipped out shuddered, and, for the first time, you noticed a true rage bubbling in his gaze. "Think you’re so smart? That I’m scared of your stupid threats?" He didn’t answer, allowing himself to cherish the softness of your body pressed to his. "I’m fucking every day with a different guy. Guys, maybe? Who knows, maybe I’m already knocked up stupid after all the cum they–"
His patience finally snapped.
One hand curled around your waist, the other lifted to squeeze your jaw before the last, nasty words would fully set his mind ablaze. The fingers dug painfully into your cheeks, the arm kept you in place, forbidding you from slipping away from the deathly clutches.
"Aren’t you a smartass, hm?" He chuckled, but his low voice was edged with the wrath that made the lavender irises narrow into a cat-eye glance. "I’m giving you an easy way out, baby. If you’re a fucking nymphomaniac, why won’t you make me your boy toy? Think I was joking?" He tugged you, drawing a soft groan from your throat. And as fear filled your body from head to toe, something exciting, maddeningly confusing, tingled in your fingertips.
"You are a fucking joke," a muffled mutter bounced off the walls, only making him squeeze your cheeks even harder.
"I don’t think you’re in a position to make me angry, baby," he leaned closer, his lips mere millimetres from yours.
Another move, and he could taste the sweetness of your lip gloss.
"Or what?" You snorted, enraging him even more. "You’ll kill me? Come on, psycho. At least I’ll get myself free from you."
Suguru never wanted to hurt you. He never wanted to do anything that would cause you even a moment's pain. But the way you spoke to him, the way your eyes twinkled with the truth of choosing death rather than spending another second in his presence, made his blood boil in a disgustingly dangerous way.
Your doe eyes fixed on his, lovely face twisted in a wicked smile as he finally loosened his grip on your cheeks.
"Is that your final answer, then?" He asked, low bass filling the small room. Candle flames licked a side of his face, with warm tongues and peppered kisses. A devil truly looking like an angel. "I promise you’ll regret it, baby."
And with a final scowl, you pushed him away. This time, he allowed you to do it without a fight.
To kick his massive body out of your room and smash the door till the tremor bounced off the corridors.
Back then, while gathering the beautiful flowers of the bed and pushing them all to the trash can, you didn’t know what consequences your decision would bring upon the lives of not just you, but all the other people you associated yourself with. The rage filled you from head to toe, making your mind go foggy from the dizziness and adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins.
Back then, you thought that the official rejection would finally stop all his attempts to coax you into this weird relationship he had made up in his head and give you a little breather.
So when you didn’t notice his presence around yourself for the next few days, a grain of hope bloomed beneath your heart. That maybe, he finally decided to leave you alone.
Your lingerie stopped disappearing, death threats were no longer found in your bag, and all the little presents stopped appearing on your bed. Life was getting back on track, and you could enjoy the last few months of university, hanging on jocks’ shoulders and slipping into parties every single weekend.
But as it would soon turn out, those few days of peace were nothing but a bad omen. The storm that would soon haunt not only your life but the whole campus itself.
As on the night one of the male students had left your dorm, he disappeared. Simply, just like that, only to be found two days later in the local forest. With body dismembered into pieces, head a few meters away from the torso.
When the news spread across the campus, not a single student or professor was left unshocked, their hearts shattered.
Did he have any enemies? People wondered. Did he find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time?
The police went to you first, of course, since you seemed to be the last person who saw him that night. But the two officers didn’t get anything from the stuttering, and weeping body of yours, with dark circles swollen under your eyes. As, in fact, you didn’t even know his name, after meeting at some party and taking back for a quick fuck to your room.
Weeks passed before you could somehow move on and find calmness within a company of another guy. Not a one-night stand, but simply someone whose kindness and gentlemanly manner made your mind flutter with peace. He talked to you gently and made a sweet, genuine laugh slip past your lips. A friend, companion, but of no love interest from your side.
And yet, after a while, he disappeared too. Only to be found in the lake, with a purple body bulging from the water and a head wrapped in a dirty sack.
This case… made you spiral into madness.
Because, as you would soon discover, men who got close to you in any way were always, always, going missing just a few days after exchanging a few simple words with you. Be it a random student working in a library or a waiter at your favourite dinner. It didn’t matter who they were to you, but a single glance at your face was enough to sentence them to death.
And whenever another person was disappearing, you always saw him.
Suguru Geto, looking at you from across the campus, with a diabolical smirk tugging at his lips. Of unmatched beauty, with cheeks, straight eyebrows, and almond-shaped eyes. Lavender gaze lingering, with an uncanny sense of a secret only the two of you knew. The love and obsession so heavy that he was ready to cut you off from any men if that would force you to crawl back to him.
So you simply stopped hanging around campus. You just gritted your teeth, hid face beneath the heavy hoodie, and left the room only for classes. Room – classes, room – classes, the route that, during the last month before the summer break, became your routine.
You made minimal contact with other men, be it people in your class or a cashier at the local supermarket. Avoided the parties, gatherings, hangouts, just to not risk anyone’s life any further.
Just one month, you thought, desperately wanting to move back to your parents’ house for the summer holidays.
To leave Suguru, the university, this whole mess behind, and lock yourself far away from all the problems you already caused.
And then, a few days before leaving, Shoko knocked on your door. And when you opened with a puffy face and a shirt dirty from a chocolate ice cream you just stuffed yourself with, she sighed heavily, quickly coming inside.
"Do you even have a roommate?" She asked, noticing that the other half of the room was always empty.
With a brief nod, you fell back on your bed and closed the book you had just been reading. Ice cream in a big paper cup was melting on your bedside table, and heavy curtains cut off the summer light in the stuffy room.
"She’s always hanging out with her boyfriend," you muttered, patting the place next to you.
Shoko took a seat, watching the misery furrow your face. "You can’t cut yourself off. It’s not healthy, you know?" she said, tugging a lock of your hair back behind an ear.
Your fingers fiddled with the old, pink tracksuit, picking on the little, plastic diamonds glued to the soft material.
"I don’t want anyone else to die," a low, almost crying voice filled the space as you desperately tried to hold back the tears already swirling behind your eyelids. "What if he’s going to hurt you?"
She wondered for a second, taking in your state, a pain ripping at her heart. "Don’t worry, I won’t let that bastard get anywhere near me. Besides, it seems that he only aims for your…" She bit down on the lower lip, as if not wishing to confirm what was already obvious. "Anyways, I thought that maybe we could have some fun tonight. Nothing crazy, just a simple funfair with me, Utahime and Yuki."
You looked up from behind the wet eyelashes, seeing the comforting smile on your friend’s face.
"I don’t think I’m in the mood for fun," another sigh escaped your tightened throat. "Besides, he can follow me there."
She hummed, nodding her chestnut head. Short hair curled around the lean cheeks, and a single cigarette was pushed behind an ear.
"Well, how about you slip away through the window? He won’t notice you leaving the dorm. His room is on the other side of the building; he won’t even see you cross the lawn."
A low giggle slipped past your lips, seeing a cheeky grin lift her lips. "And how do you know that?"
"I think you truly underestimate your friends. Yuki’s boyfriend is friends with his roommate, the nerd guy, Satoru. We’ll make sure he keeps him entertained for a few seconds," Shoko laughed, squinting her eyes like a sly kitty. "Besides, there’s some weird metal band in town. I’m sure he and the rest of Addam’s Family will hang out there. He already knows you’re too scared to even leave your room, so… he won’t suspect anything."
The plan indeed sounded good. And as your room was on the first floor, slipping away would be easy. The worst that could happen was a small scratch, but it seemed worth it to experience even the simplest moment of joy before leaving your friends for two months.
At the same time… the fear was eating you alive. The thought that he might somehow be able to track your location sent a shiver down your spine. Made your mind freeze, heart trying to leap from the tightened chest. You didn’t want to hear about any more murders. Didn’t want to befriend kind, innocent people who would meet a tragic end only because of the psychotic stalker who cared for you in his sick, twisted manner.
And yet, without a second thought, you nodded, drawing a squeak from Shoko’s beaming face. She pulled you into a tight, warm hug, a sweet fragrance of perfume and cigarette smoke wrapping around your senses.
"So get your ass up now and go take a shower," She said, pushing you towards the door. "I’ll prepare a little special outfit for our night out."
The bathroom was empty when you entered, but no one interrupted your long, warm shower. No heavy footsteps bounced off the tiled walls, and no one’s silky hair peeked down at your naked body. It felt almost unusual, yet you tried to enjoy this intimate moment of peace just as you used to, with the same melody hummed softly beneath the dripping rain and a sweet body wash lathering your skin.
Colours seemed to slowly spread across your cheeks, the purple smooched disappeared from under your eyes, and a heavy, relaxed breath escaped your throat.
The life, even for a slippery second, felt as if it was back under your control.
When you turned to the room, a small, shocked gasp rolled off your tongue.
"I am not wearing that!" You scowled, looking at the set Shoko prepared for you.
You had long forgotten about the tight, extremely short pink skirt and the sparkling white top that were hidden in your wardrobe. A set of white lingerie lay right next to them, and your heart almost stopped at the bra, thin enough to make your perked nipples visible through the flimsy top.
"What do you mean? You wore it so many times before!" she exclaimed, adding a pair of big hoops and milky-white heels. "Come on, don’t be a prude!"
"I’m not, but…" but what if some guy tries to talk to me, and he will be there, and…
"Nuh-uh, stop. I can read your thoughts," Shoko said, quickly wiping a towel over your naked body. Her chestnut eyes slid up and down your figure, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. "Mhm, perfect. Dress up and let me do your make-up."
So after an hour and a long fight over the crimson lipstick that smudged your lips in an utterly whorish way, you and Shoko, under the sky blanketed in darkness, finally slipped away through the window. Bags fell onto the lawn first, heels following right after, only for your stupidly giggling lips to shush each other as you ran across campus.
Yuki and Shoko were already waiting outside, and when you saw them crouched behind the bushes, a loud, alive laugh filled the warm summer night.
"Why didn’t you wait in the car?" You asked, slipping into the passenger seat.
Yuki started the car, slowly reversing from the university’s car park. "For your entertainment, dear." She chuckled before pulling onto the main road.
After ten minutes of laughing and chit-chatting in the car, with music blasting from the speakers and Yuki’s cabriolet swooshing along the forest roads, you finally noticed the lights.
Red, orange, and purple, with a Ferris wheel looming over the dark, haunted house, rollercoasters, and multiple colourful booths filling the place with a mixture of burnt popcorn and sweet cotton candy. The tacky music beamed from the stickers, bouncing off the nearby lake, hidden just behind the deep forest.
Children, teenagers and students filled the park to the brim, with plastic red cups or paper boxes of food in their hands. Men tried to show off their muscles, hitting the high striker again and again until the golden bell buzzed with a red alarm, tickling your earlobes. A few squeaks escaped from the haunted house after a group of girls left it, laughing and giggling, while another group just entered, fear twisting their faces.
It seemed perfect, joyful and carefree, lifting a heavy burden from your shoulders and allowing you to experience a moment of happiness.
Shoko wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the entrance.
After an hour, you completely forgot about the terror that had haunted you for the past year. You couldn’t count the cans of beer you drank, the amount of caramel popcorn that filled your belly with sweetness, all the times you almost barfed on the rollercoaster, and your miserable attempts to win a plush toy in darts.
Some men looked behind their shoulders to sense a direction from which sugary laughter was coming. Some tried to talk to you, but all three girls were immediately taking you away from their clutches, knowing that the presence of another guy was the last thing you needed.
But then all of them left for the haunted house, which you refused to enter, and suddenly became easy prey. Easy enough for someone to come into your line of sight and let out a chuckle when another soft ball didn’t hit the moving object.
"I’m sorry, but you really suck at it," a low voice whispered in your ear, and you quickly looked over your shoulder.
A young man, surely your age, with coffee-coloured eyes that mingled like little stars and sandy hair brushed slightly back. He stood tall, with broad shoulders bulging beneath the blueish shirt. Muscular arms peeked from beneath the short sleeves, with a few creamy buttons revealing his warm chest.
Your lips pouted. "I’m not that bad."
"It’s the fourth time you lost it."
Sixth, almost slipped away, but instead, you let out a giggle.
His eyes scanned your face, taking in the loveliness warming your skin, before drifting towards a booth filled with plushies.
"So which one do you want?" He asked, giving the cashier a few dollars for another try.
You bit the plush inside of the cheek, pointing with a finger at the big, black cat with yellow eyes and a pinkish nose.
"He looks mischievous," a man murmured, nevertheless sending you a smile.
His legs spread a bit wider, and his body leaned over to get a better view of the moving cans.
"I like them a bit mischievous," you said, moving yourself to stand right next to him.
With a corner of the eye, you noticed his gaze on your warm cheeks, before he looked back towards the game. "I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m a nice guy."
The first ball flew, hitting right in the middle of the small can. You gasped, shooting your head towards him. To look at the cheeky smile and sandy brows curving up.
"You did not!"
He shrugged, rolling a chuckle. "Not bad, hm?"
Another three balls in his hand disappeared just as quickly. One by one, each hitting the can with force, until the metal cups fell to the ground. The cashier seemed just as surprised and charmed as you, watching the blue veins bulge on his forearms and squinting at the aim.
When the last can fell, you suddenly, without a further thought, grabbed his shoulders and started jumping with loud squeaks.
"Oh my god! Amazing!" The pure happiness lighting your face swelled his heart with pride as he pointed a finger at the big, black cat.
"Here you go, pretty," He said, a gentle rosiness kissing his lips as he pushed the plush into your arms.
A bit too small to hug it fully, slightly bigger than your chest.
"Pretty?" Fell rather cheeky, as you walked towards one of the benches.
The warm summer air coated your body, hair stuck to the glossed lips, and you noticed the way his finger curled into a fist, as if wishing to push those few strands away.
"Well, aren’t you?" He scratched the back of his neck at the poor attempt to crack a flirty joke.
And as heartwarming as it was, maybe a little cheesy, you smiled, nuzzling cheek into the soft fur of your new gift.
"Mhm, whatever you say, handsome."
This time, his lean cheeks blazed with colour. Eyes slipped over your shoulder, as if the loveliness of your eyes was simply too much to bear. Cute.
"I’m Nanami," he said, coffee eyes finally meeting yours once again. "I was watching you for a while and thought you were pretty…"
The shyness creeping up his neck melted your heart. He was handsome, of course he was, with a sharp jaw and sandy hair, a few golden strands as if licked by the sun's rays. Eyes deep and warm, like sweet cocoa, held the damnedest purity that men your age usually did not possess. Pale skin, coated with a sheen of sweat, fingers curling and straightening under the weight of your gaze.
You sat down on the nearby bench, nothing but a black cat keeping your thighs from touching each other.
"Are you trying to flirt with me, Nanami?" You asked, turning head his way.
"Is it working?"
You hummed, leaning closer with a devilish smile dancing on your lips. "I think you’re pretty cute."
Nanami turned out to be the utmost gentleman. Always paying attention to everything you said, listening with pricked ears and quick nods. Sometimes the conversation turned to him, but more often to you. And although you thought of yourself as a rather boring person, Nanami enjoyed every word that slipped past your lips.
He seemed rather boring, but kind, shy, and utterly curious about your persona. Making a pleasurable warmth bubble in your belly and a wicked need to coax him into your arms. To use him for your own satisfaction, as back in the days when you enjoyed spending your nights with men too good to hang out with girls of your sort.
And soon you started leaning closer. And closer, placing the cat on the other side of the bench, pressing your thighs together. He was sweetly, utterly aware of your presence. Of the sweetness that filled his nostrils, the warmth of your body and giggles kissing his earlobes.
"I was thinking…" fell sweetly, with your breasts stuck to his arm.
"Maybe we could move somewhere quieter?" A lovely pout formed on your lips, doe eyes lurking up from beneath the curtain of lashes. "There’s a lake nearby. And I could reaaally use a cold swim right now."
You felt a tremor slip down his spine. The goosebumps rising on the skin of his bicep, you curled fingers around. A bulge in his trousers that made your eyes twinkle and lips lift in a wicked smile.
"But you don’t h-have a swimsuit," he said, perfectly knowing how stupid his reasoning was.
Because the lack of a swimsuit was, indeed, the whole point of this secret meeting.
So when a low, "Do you mind?" Slipped past your lips, he quickly shook his head.
"Let’s meet in ten, then." You said, before walking away towards the hidden beach with a gentle sway of your hips and a big cat wrapped within your arms.
It was safer to meet there separately. The reasons were obvious, but Nanami didn’t need to know them. There was no need, as for the past few hours you had been carefully scanning the park for the dark, heavy shoes and their owner, a face that still haunted your dreams.
It seemed he truly had no idea of your whereabouts, so the invitation seemed quite safe. Nanami appeared too good to get himself tangled up in your whole mess, yet the egoistic, carnal need for pleasure was far stronger than the need to keep a clear mind.
The short path through the dark forest led you towards a small beach, with trees looming over the crystal water and the moon peeking through the thick branches. Crickets hummed a summer melody, gentle waves crashed over the soft sand and without a second thought, you started undressing yourself.
The top, skirt, heels, followed by the flimsy white lingerie. A shiver ran down your spine when you dipped your feet in the water. Lukewarm, but still cooling your body in such a pleasing way. You slowly went further, and further, till the lake wrapped around your hips and moonlight bounced off the crystal droplets gathering on your skin.
Soft sigh slipped past your lips as you immersed yourself fully, with only your head peeking over the calm surface.
After a while, you finally heard footsteps slowly coming towards the beach. Nanami was close, and so you went back to the shore, slowly, slowly, walking out of the lake, with beads coating your naked body. Hanging off the perked nipples, nuzzling into the collarbones, dripping down your pussy, and a sheer sight of you could make one recall legends of water nymphs. With a beauty that unlatched heaven itself, carrying a wicked spell that spiralled men into madness.
When the shadow lurked from between the bending trees, your lips curled. Head tilted, mind already imagined the fever that would hit his lovely, virgin cheeks.
"Nan–"
And yet, before the name could fully roll off your lips, your breath hitched instead.
Because the man who appeared in front of you wasn’t him. The kind boy you met just minutes ago.
No, but instead Satan himself. Demon, nightmare, a fiend plaguing your life since the year before.
With a tall, muscular body dressed in black, heavy shoes wrapped around his ankles, creamy skin drenched… in blood. Long fingers wrapped around the long knife, and this damned smile bubbled behind the lavender irises.
"You–" a shuddered breath escaped your tightened throat, body suddenly a lot more naked than it should.
Everything you showed, exposed, and wanted to offer wasn’t meant to be seen by him.
And Suguru Geto knew it. Oh, he knew too well, and that’s why the lavender gaze travelled up and down your body with a satisfaction.
"Hi, baby," he said, slightly tilting his head. "Why the surprised face? Have you waited for someone else?"
You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to confirm the obvious. Instead, your hands lifted to cover the soaked breasts, eyes quickly fell on the clothes left messily on the sand. Four big steps and you could at least grab the lingerie.
But Suguru noticed the way your gaze wandered, and a small gasp escaped his lips. He was faster, with long legs carrying him to your panties before you could take a step, body still frozen in fear. With one hand gripping the knife, he bent over and grabbed the dirty panties with the other.
"Such a pretty set. All for me?" He giggled, lifting the material to his nose. You could hear a low moan as he took a deep, heavy sniff with utter pleasure. Pervert. "Fuck, baby. You always smell so fucking good." Before you could snap back, his tongue peeked out past the pierced lip, taking a long, moany lick of your juices, lavender eyes not leaving your face for a second. "And taste like heaven."
Something bubbled in your belly. A mix of emotions too strange to identify, making your mind spin into a fury and spine tingle with a craving too queer to admit. The sole fact that standing naked in front of your stalker felt…
"Where’s Nanami?" you added quickly, trying to ignore the way your thighs clenched the moment Suguru moaned around your panties.
He took a step closer, coming your way at an unhurried pace. Panties hidden in the back pocket of his jeans, a thumb brushing away your juice, mixed with a crimson liquid on his cheek.
Suguru shrugged, eyes still fixed on your face. "Who?"
Your fingers turned into fists, as "What did you do to him, psycho?" fell through the gritted teeth.
But the gentle crease appearing between your brows melted Suguru’s heart. Low chuckle bounced off the calm water, as he was only a few steps away. If he wanted to, he could simply extend his hand and grab you by the neck.
"Baby, I really thought you learned your lesson," an angelic pout twisted his lips, as he pressed the drenched knife to his cheek. "Let me think… are you talking about the guy who was coming to see you? Blond, slightly shorter than me?"
When a terror flickered behind your gaze, his eyes lightened. "Ah, so that was him? Well, I didn’t like the fact that he was coming to meet my girl," Lavender irises dropped down to your breasts covered by your hands, before slipping towards the soft belly, hips, mound of your pussy, with a low growl tickling your ears. "Fuck, baby. I’m so happy this fucker’s dead. I can’t believe–"
Before Suguru could finish, you took a step.
And the next one, and another, before your palm met with his cheek. You didn’t expect the hit to be that hard, and yet he stumbled and fell on the soft sand. With a shock crossing his face and hand lifting to grab his burning skin.
"Bab–"
You launched towards him, your hips straddling his, palms pressing his shoulders down until his head hit the ground. Everything felt too weird, unnatural, as burning rage took over your mind and adrenaline pulsed beneath your skin.
Another slap echoed from the looming trees, and when his head flew to the left, you quickly turned it right with the next hit. And the next, next, counting each man who died because of you. The jock, the kind guy, the diner waiter, the student from the library… Nanami.
One hit more ruthless than another, but the adrenaline cooed over the sizzling pain that ripped your palms. No tears ran down your face, no trembling washed over your spine.
It was a wrath that had been simmering beneath your heart for months and finally found a way to spill in a deeply dishonourable way, leaving you filled with disgust for the violence he forced upon you.
When you finally finished, with deep breaths slipping one by one through your parted lips and eyes looking down at his face, a sort of peace dripped into your mind. Upon seeing a thin thread of blood trickling down his lips and a nasty, lavender bruise slowly forming high on cheeks.
He lay still with a mix of shock and absolute, loving madness that slipped in a shudder past the bloody traces on his face.
If Suguru Geto had thought he already loved you those few minutes before, now, with your naked body straddling his and cheeks pulsing from a beating he had himself awakened in you – he wasn’t sure whether love was enough to describe the devotion his heart swelled with.
Your breasts rose with deep breaths, lips slightly parted, while your hands still pressed his shoulder into the sand. And before he could speak, your finger hooked around his lip piercing, pulling him forward as pain shot through every nerve the metal had struck.
"Stop fucking testing me," you growled, with squinted eyes looking straight into his. "Think you’re so smart? I know your psychotic ass is too miserable to lay a finger on me. Pull another stunt like that and I’ll fucking kill you," you launched him forward, without a care whether the lip ring would rip through the skin. "Do you understand?"
He quickly nodded, but the heart-shaped irises were enough to raise another wave of fury beneath your chest.
And when he thought you would stand up and simply walk away, leaving him on a sand with a blood trickling down his chin and a hard cock trying to rip through his pants, you…
Kissed him. Smashed your lips against his, licking clean the crimson liquid pooling on his skin.
Suguru was already taken by surprise, but now, feeling your warmth so close to his body, he could swear that heaven was nowhere but in the taste of your sweet breath.
He moaned, drinking the saliva dripping from your lips and feeling the wet pussy rolling against his bulging jeans. Your hands lifted to his cheeks, squeezing them tight till another pitiful groan slipped right into your mouth.
And when his big palms landed on your hips, you pulled back, giving him yet another slap. "Don’t fucking touch me, you psycho."
Your words fell harshly, but the desire bubbling in your lower belly and sticky juices coating his jeans were enough evidence to make you feel utterly, madly turned on by the miserable state he allowed you to put him in.
"Baby, fuck, sit on my face, I’m begging you," he moaned, looking down at the long, silky thread that dripped down from your cunt right onto his bulge.
The sheer sight made his mind spin, and when you moved over his face, Suguru was sure that blood started dripping from his nose.
"I don’t care if you’ll suffocate, but you better make me cum," you stated, looking down into his dazed eyes.
Knowing fully well that the death between your thighs would bring him the peace he did not deserve.
With one move, you sat yourself on his face, tongue already peeking out and plastered to meet the heavenly sweetness of your cunt. A low, loud groan filled your drenched walls as he could finally savour the flavour he had craved for so long.
Lavender eyes rolled back, muscular body trembled as you sat with your full weight, till his teeth grazed your swollen clit and tongue sealed the leaking entrance. He drank the honeyed saps like a man starved, lapping through your folds with low moans and shallow breaths. Getting himself intoxicated by the creaminess trickling down his throat and coating the inside of plush cheeks with a sheen of sugar.
His hand immediately slipped down to his cock, fiddling with a belt, only to pull out a massive, leaking shaft that hit his abdomen. You looked over your shoulder, mouth watering at the sheer sight of the monstrosity he dared to keep hidden all this time.
He did offer to be your boy toy, and maybe, maybe, you would think it over, knowing the fatness that could poke each and every nerve deep inside your pussy.
When his lips curled around your clit, sucking on the swollen button, your hips rolled in pleasure.
"Fuck," you moaned, feeling a smirk already tugging on his bloody lips.
The metal rings felt slightly cold, bringing a weird pleasure to the heat that ripped you from the inside.
His long fingers curled around the thick shaft, pumping it in slow, lazy strokes. The reddened head pulsed as if ready to burst, balls contracted whenever your hips rolled over and over again, smearing his chin, cheeks, nose in a creamy cum.
His tongue fluttered around your clit, folds, poking inside the tightening cunt. When his other hand slipped up to grab your tit, you allowed it with a soft groan. Long fingers rolled the hardened nipple, squeezing the fat that fit into his palm just right.
"My sweetest," he pulled slightly away, forcing a frown upon your lovely forehead. "That desperate to get fucked, huh? I’m sorry my baby needed to wait that long."
It could look as if he was talking to you, but, in fact, his squinted eyes were nowhere but on your glistening pussy. With another wave of cum already sticking to his lips and lonely hole clenching desperately around nothing.
"My–"
"Stop talking," you muttered, grabbing a fistful of his silky hair, only to push him towards your cunt. "I’m far from cumming."
And he did as you ordered, plastering himself again to the heaven between your legs.
This time, he lapped more hungrily. With lips, tongue, nose poking all your sweetest buds, sucking on the trembling clit and pushing, pushing, pushing inside the weeping cunt. Each roll of your hips tugged painfully on his piercing, but he didn’t mind.
No, but rather took a carnal pleasure from the heaviness of your body, feeling that dangerous warmth bubbling in his loins.
And you were no better, with head falling behind and eyes closing from the ecstasy that was ready to spill any second. Looking back on his cock, you moaned, already imagining the fat, leaking shaft nuzzled deep inside your pussy. With a slightly curved head hitting your womb and a warm cum filling you to the brim.
"Oh fuck, I’m close," an almost inaudible whisper rolled off your tongue, but Suguru caught it in time.
With a sly smirk and lips sucking on your clit harsher, till the plumped bud trembled on his tongue, leaking a few droplets of sap.
His face turned red, for you really cut the air off and made him suffer in pleasure, strangled beneath your oozing cunt. Eyes rolled back again, a low groan spread through your pussy, sending another wave of climax down your spine.
And within the next few rolls and his tongue digging deep inside your soft walls – you finally cummed. Gushed, all over his face, drenching it in splatters of crystal droplets, landing in his mouth, on cheeks, dripping down the forehead. Your thighs squeezed around his head, a pitched moan left parted lips, and fingers grabbed his hair tighter.
You trembled, and trembled, feeling the ambrosial orgasm tickle your spine. Probably the first and best given to you through oral sex alone.
And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Suguru was, by far, the only man who made you moan that loud.
You didn’t have a moment to catch your breath. No strength to lift yourself up from his body. And to him it was of no problem, as the second later, the world spanned only for you to find yourself under him.
With thighs glued to your chest and ass slightly lifted up.
"I told you–"
His lips fell onto yours before you could finish, drawing a sweet moan from your throat.
"My poor baby is in heat," he muttered, licking a long stripe of your sweating cheek. "Let me take care of you. You waited so fucking long, didn't you?"
"And whose fault is that?" You snapped, feeling his smirk back onto your lips.
He kissed you messily, yet with a sweetness and care you would never associate with a psycho of his sort.
"I told you," he started, pulling away to take his shirt off. Muscles upon muscles glistened under the moonlight spilling through the trees, dark locks cascading down to his hips. "You will regret rejecting my love."
His trousers quickly joined the shirt on the sand, and soon he was hanging over you naked. With a heavy cock lying on your belly and droplets of precum leaking onto your belly button. It burned down through your skin – the hefty girth that made your mind spin from the sight alone.
He didn’t cum, as if waiting to release himself deep within the warmth of your pussy, and his next "Last time you mentioned something about getting knocked up, hm?", only confirmed the nasty thoughts already bubbling in your skull.
"Don’t know how to use a condom?" You bit down on lower lip, deep inside knowing that you yourself would throw that condom away.
There was simply no way you would pass up a chance to feel such a monstrous shaft deep inside you. His big palms hook under your thighs, folding you even further, till the breath alone slipped in trembled gasps and chest squeezed under the heaviness of his body.
And yet, you still tried to expose yourself even further, moving your hips in desperate need to meet the long-craved fraction and the maddening stretch. It felt so embarrassing, humiliating, to get yourself drunk on the pleasure that tickled your fingertips and made your lips fall open.
Dizziness already coiled behind your eyes, and Suguru could see it clearly. In the way you looked at his leaking cock, with this slutty, needy gaze.
"Do you want me to use it, baby?" He chuckled, leaning himself down. Only lick a long stripe down your neck, feeling the sweat tickle his taste buds. "Tell me you don’t dream about getting fucked raw and stupid."
A moan slipped past your lips when the head of his cock smooched your entrance, and lips sucked on sensitive skin right beneath your jaw. "Just do it already, fuck."
"Tell me you love me," He murmured, teeth grazing one of your pulsing veins. "Tell me you’ll stay, and I promise to give you everything."
Hips already rolling, as you tried to get yourself closer to his fatness. To the tip that oozed with sticky precum and the heat radiating from his cock.
A pathetic mewl escaped your throat as he sank himself a bit deeper. But only the plump head, that already marked the painful stretch you would surely get after the rest of the shaft followed.
"Stop dreaming, you psycho," you gritted through your teeth, pushing out even more of the cum that wrapped in a creamy ring around his cock. You stretched your hand, taking a fistful of his hair, only to pull him closer. Till your lips crashed in another kiss, the dried blood sticking to your maws. "Fuck me stupid, and I’ll think about it."
And Suguru, as desperate as he was, needed only those few, mean words to shove his massive shaft deep inside your pussy.
A loud scream bounced off the trees, soon muffled by his lips, drinking in every cry, every moan that started spilling out.
The stretch was as painfully ecstatic as you expected, spinning your mind with drowsiness and rolling eyes into the skull. He filled every corner, every fold of your plush hole, till the reddened head smooched your womb. You trembled from head to toe upon a sudden intrusion, and the way he immediately started moving.
Pushing, thrusting, shoving his cock till the balls squelched against your lifted ass, and nasty splashing filled the little beach. He kept you in place, with muscular arms folding you in half and lips licking, sucking, and biting on the sensitive skin of your neck. Chest plastered to your nipples, brushing the perked buds each time he rammed his cock inside your weeping cunt.
The air felt sticky and steamy, with the sweetness of your breaths mixing whenever another moan slipped past your lips, and Suguru watched carefully as pleasure twisted your face.
The ethereal beauty that warmed your cheeks, eyes lidded in delight, a stream of spit dripping down your chin, before he licked it with a low, nasty groan.
"Fuck, baby, I waited so long," He muttered, mind spinning into madness whenever your plush cunt clamped on his cock. "So hungry, weren't you?"
When his fingers slipped between your bodies, only to press against your clit, a pitched, "Mmm y-yeah, fuck, I hate you so much," rolled right into his smirking lips.
He chuckled, shoving his shaft faster, deeper, till a small bulge appeared right under your belly button. "Do you? Because I thought you, ugh, liked them a bit mischievous, huh?"
You heard those words somewhere before. Maybe because they were the same words said to Nanami.
But then, with his cock stuffing you, nasty, full and plush lips caressing yours, you couldn’t give a single fuck about how he knew about them. The only thing that mattered was his heavy, beefy body pressed to yours, leaving barely any space for the warm air that desperately tried to slip between your sweating skins.
"Suguru," a lovely mewl escaped your throat when his curved tip hit your sweet spot inside. Ramming into it relentlessly, with a force that drove your body into the sand. "So, oh god, you fill me so good."
His lips met your jaw, chin, lavender eyes tracing each scowl of your face. "You love it, don’t you, baby?" Big thumb rolled the swollen clit, pulling another pinched moan from your throat. "I know, baby, you love it so fucking much. And if I’ll do this," He rammed his tip against your spot again, before nuzzling it right against the plumped womb. "You will cum very, very soon."
And he was right. Pushing all your buttons, kneading your body in all the right places as if he knew exactly how to make a warmth bubble in your belly.
Fingers of one hand dug painfully into the backs of your thighs as you opened them even further, letting him slip into you even deeper.
"Talk to me, baby." He ordered, feeling the erratic clenching of your walls. "Tell me how much you love me."
"I love it–ahhh," rolled instead, and you could feel a dissatisfied tsk bouncing off your chin.
"No, baby," his teeth sank into your neck, his thumb pressing on your clit even harder. "Come on, baby, tell me how much you fucking love me. I’ll kill every man you’ll ever try to talk to. Hell, I’ll slash your pretty friends’ throats if they try to keep me away from you." Each nasty word was marked by a more brutal roll of his lips. Till the sweet pleasure of smooching your womb soon turned into your painful cries. "Say it, say that you love me."
The warmth in your lower belly was ready to spill, head lulled to the side only to be brought back by his lips, tugging harshly on yours. He bit into them, then licked the swell with a coo, as if trying to coax you into the madness-confession he had waited so long for.
And you, wrapped around the heavy weight of his cock inside your cunt and the way he made your feet curl in pleasure, finally, unfortunately, had given up.
"Suguru, I love you–nghh–s-so fucking much," a sweet mewl slipped past your lips. "So good, fuck, you feel so fucking good. I love you, love you, love you, love you–"
Your desperate cries were muffled by his low groan, dripping into your throat, as he finally stilled.
With cock kissing your womb, lips lick the tears rolling in the corners of your eyes and a thumb pinching the trembling clit.
You came with a loud cry, squirting all over his beefy thighs, abdomen, soaking the trembling shaft that started filling your clamping walls with waves and waves of cum. Its stickiness glueing to your soft insides, creamy droplets plugging you so full, till the milky threads spilled from the rim of your cunt.
And in the brief moment when Suguru Geto let his guard down, your fingers seized the long knife left messily on the sand and, with a single furious thrust, drove it deep into his left thigh.
A low groan slashed through the air when the shimmering iron struck his thick muscles, sending a painful wave over his spine.
You rolled his heavy body off, milky cum still dripping down your thighs and eyes…
Eyes looking no better than his. With heart-shaped irises glancing down at his body wrinkling in pain, with a sweet giggle, as you finally felt the winning pleasure spreading all over your chest.
His naked, muscular figure sprawled on the sand, cock already getting hard once again, upon seeing the bloody, sticky mess you left on him. Lavender gaze gazed up to you with a swelling devotion, and you needed to grit your teeth not to give him one last slap.
Instead, you started dressing yourself, slowly, with eyes squinted and lips tugged by a sly smile.
"I should fucking kill you," tickled his ears, and he could only give you a short nod. "But it would be a waste of resources," your eyes slipped onto his already leaking cock.
"I’ll come over tonight, baby," he mumbled, wrapping his hand around your ankle. If he could, he would crawl behind you, but the pain slashing through his thigh was already spiralling him into dizziness. "Fucking, wait for me, I’ll come over."
"I’ll be taking a shower in two hours, and I expect to see you there," you said with a final low hum and a tilt of your head, before walking away.
And Suguru… he had to jerk himself twice before he could finally stand up, swaying and pain swirling droplets of sweat on his neck. Yet, neither death nor such a minor injury could ever keep him away from his sweet, precious girl.
You know what, I kind feel sorry for Nanami... anyways, pyramidhead Toji next! I haven't written Toji for such a long time! I hope you enjoyed the first story <3
✮⋆˙ What is a summerween? Summerween began with a Gravity Falls episode on June 22 (thus the publication date), and it's basically a second Halloween, but celebrated in the summer!
✮⋆˙ What can you expect? Summer camps 🏕, funfairs 🎪, trips to the cabin in the woods 🪵, and lots and lots of sex... and blood 🪓. Summerween is here, and as a horror and fall-obsessed girl, I cannot miss the opportunity to make a little freaky collection! Stories will be inspired mainly by 80s slashers, but also, as you can see, some video games!
✮⋆˙ Common slasher tropes: ꒰ sex equals death :: virgins always survive :: killers are hard to kill :: my car hates me :: wild teen party :: say goodbye first to your gay friend :: jocks + bimbos :: don't go to the woods/summercamp :: killer usually wants a revenge :: psycho stalkers :: demons and posessions :: useless adults ꒱
✮⋆˙ Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader, Suguru Geto x Reader, Toji Fushiguro x Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x Reader, Choso Kamo x Reader, WLW, MLM
✮⋆˙ Content & Warnings: ꒰ HEAVY ON MDNI 18+ :: HEAVY smut :: set in the late 80s :: it sometimes may be a bit tacky! :: mean and slutty readers :: virgin readers and virgin jjk men :: killers :: murderers :: stalkers :: yandere :: slashers :: bloody stories :: demons :: nightmares :: summer vibe :: camping :: lots and lots of sex :: obsessions :: possessiveness :: gay sex :: lose of virginity :: tba... ꒱
comment to be added to the taglist .ᐟ
my summerween series (not focused on slashers) is available here! ✮⋆˙
─ CURRENTLY SCREENING.ᐟ ✮⋆˙
✮⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫/𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 :: An outcast you rejected a year ago cannot bear the sight of you with other men! And what's a better place to corner you and beg to love him? By the lake, at night, when you're naked and alone. After he made sure to get rid of your newest lover, of course!
✮⋆˙ (𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘) 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏
𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 :: Who would have guessed that a trip to a cabin with friends, your current situationship, and an ex would be a good idea? Certainly not you, especially not with two killers lurking in the woods. But why are the only victims... all your multiple ex-flings?
✮⋆˙ 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒…
𝐄𝐱!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 :: One wrong turn can truly cost your life. The GPS stops working, roads loop around, and every sign leads to the same town. Empty and eerie, with a dull sound bouncing off the walls every night. A voice of your long-gone lover, whom you left years ago.
✮⋆˙ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍
𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 :: A weekend away at the luxurious hotel by the lake. A whole two days of playing murder mystery with your friends, trying to guess who's the killer! Roles get assigned, the game starts and then... a murder happens. No, the real murder happens. And as it turns out – your "whore role" may be the only thing that will save your ass from getting chopped! Or will it?
✮⋆˙ 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒
𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 :: Summer in New Orleans comes with music, voodoo and... a bayou. People who disrespect the swamp disappear. People who pray sometimes receive miracles. One night, while wandering too far from the festival, you fall into the water. But, thankfully, something catches you before you drown. Something that doesn't want to leave you alone.
✮⋆˙ 𝐆𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓!
𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 :: Staying in a single room with Satoru and Suguru during the summer camp is... interesting. Testing your self-restraint every single day. But one day, when news spreads that a killer is murdering other campers, you decide to make a final decision. Lose your virginity! Because in slashers, gays always die first!
✮⋆˙ 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃
𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 :: Who knew the Ouija board was not as useless as it seemed? And who knew a demon you managed to summon would not only be among the most dangerous, but also eager to grant your weird wish? Fuck-a-demon-on-a-camera kind of wish! The one and only ticket that would surely guarantee a boom in your career. That is, if the footage is found, of course.
✮⋆˙ (𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌) 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 :: A perverted demon haunts your dreams – always playing with your body, pushing you over the edge, but never, ever, letting you cum. So you finally decide to grab him and bring him back to your reality, to have a little play yourself!
✮⋆˙ 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇
𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫/𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐉𝐨𝐜𝐤!𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 :: Geto Suguru had a crush on a bisexual jock since the first year of university. In a slightly unhealthy, maybe a bit overly obsessive way. So when the whole major goes on a summer trip to the cabin in the woods – Geto Suguru couldn't be happier. It's just that... well... he really, really hates all those men and women hanging on Satoru's shoulder every single night...
the stories may be published in a random order! ✮⋆˙
The summerween collection will finish at the end of August and then... we're going into Kinktober <3 When signing up for taglist PLEASE REMEMBER TO INCLUDE AGE/ADULT INFO IN YOUR BIO
The Victorian-style house looked a bit creepy, but rather cute. Very pinkish. Perfectly serene for your remote job and longing for silence. And everything would be wonderful if not for this little weird doll that looks like you and a small door in the living room, leading to... nowhere? And what about those two guys who lived here sixty years ago?
˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: Satosugu x Reader
˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnigs for this chapter: ꒰ Coraline AU :: reader is a horror writer :: dark and eerie atmosphere :: victorian house :: mentions of Sukuna :: Shoko is ofc our friend :: weird neighbours :: introduction of Satoru and Suguru :: mentions of cheating :: small town mystery :: 5.4k words ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ notes: Happy summerween everyone! Omg, so excited! I hope you'll enjoy it <3 I decided to post it a day earlier, since I planned to publish a full summerween collection tomorrow.
masterlist ˖𖦹 ݁˖
──── chapter one 🗝
The woodsy smell slipped into your car through the slightly open window. Heavy droplets of rain tapped on the glass as Shoko took another turn along the forest road. It was the middle of the day, yet the darkness spilt over the crying sky, raising a gentle fog that hid the winding road ahead.
It was the beginning of summer, yet the sky ripped apart the moment you entered your new city. The deep, dark forest loomed over the little houses, bending and curving into wicked shapes, and you couldn't count how many times Shoko cursed under her breath when the thin branches scratched her window.
Passing the little town centre, you turned deeper into the woods. The GPS was going crazy, yet there was only one road leading to your new house. After a while, with rain pattering on your foggy window, a tall building finally loomed among the ghastly trees.
"Pink Palace Apartments," Shoko read the wooden sign hanging in front of the house, before letting out a giggle. "It really is pink."
You looked up and saw an old Victorian house painted pastel pink. The wooden planks looked as if they had been freshly repainted, with white decorative elements curling like flowers on the porch and around the windowsills. Your gaze immediately fell on the two turrets with pointed metal roofs.
Long stairs twisted near the porch, leading to another section of the house occupied by a neighbour. On the opposite side, you've spotted stairs descending to the basement – likely belonging to other neighbours.
A dark forest spread behind the house, and in front – a little, withered garden waited for someone to put a bit of work into making the flowers bloom again. It seemed no one had cared for it for a long time, and something tugged at your heart.
Maybe it was time to get back into your long-forgotten passion for gardening?
"Pretty," you whispered, slowly opening the passenger’s door.
"Rather creepy," Shoko snorted, glancing over her shoulder at the moving truck carrying all your belongings. "But I guess it suits a freak like you."
You laughed, slipping under her big umbrella and heading towards the porch. "Not everyone who writes horror is a freak," you murmured, wiping your muddy shoes on the welcome mat, which seemed as old as the house itself. Cute.
"No, but everyone who moves to the place in the middle of the forest and without any signal..." She looked at her phone. "...only to move into a haunted house, certainly is."
"It’s not haunted!" You giggled, opening the white, wooden door. "Oh!"
The inside was as beautiful as you expected. Warmth spilled over the old desks and dark walls, giving the interior an antique soul. The Persian-style carpet under your feet looked as if freshly washed, drawing you towards the centre of the house. Long, dark stairs led to the second floor, while two corridors welcomed you further inside.
Shoko followed you into the kitchen – old and slightly rusty, with rain tapping against the large windows. You hurried to explore other rooms – the living room, a small basement that Shoko refused to enter, and a cosy office with beautiful mosaic windows overlooking the garden. Eventually, your feet carried you upstairs.
The big bedroom, with a baldachin bed and a wide windowsill, seemed an ideal spot for reading in the evening. Shoko grimaced at the old, flowery tapestry covering the walls and the crimson carpet on the floor.
"Has no one redecorated this house since the nineteenth century?" she murmured, and then her eyes fell on the bedside table. "Oh my gosh, is that a paraffin lamp? Are you kidding me?"
Your eyes fell on the little, yellow lamp and twinkled like little stars. It was indeed a paraffin lamp, and you would surely check whether it was still working.
"Oh, come on, it has a soul!" You tapped your finger against a crying window before turning back to sighing Shoko. "I love it. Just imagine how beautiful it’ll be when the garden blooms again."
Your friend walked to your side, looking out the window. The sky was torn apart over the withered trees and flowers, but she had to admit it indeed had potential. With just a bit of care and patience, the whole place could be turned into a fine summer house, with her and Utahime coming over for the weekends.
"I saw a lake nearby. I guess… we could have a BBQ or something," she muttered, and you bounced on your feet with a squeak.
Your arms wrapped around her shoulders, and cheek nuzzled against hers. "I told you! I’ll make sure you love this place. And since Utahime also likes gardening, just bring her over at the weekend."
The moving company brought all your things inside, and when you went downstairs, heavy boxes loomed like wicked trees over the living room. The old crimson sofa seemed a bit dusty, so you both sat on a carpet and began to unpack slowly.
Wind and rain hit the windows, letting the faint tap-tap-tap fill the house. After an hour, you ordered a pizza and stuffed yourself, enjoying the dark, rainy day from the porch. The air smelt earthy, tickling your skin with a gentle chill. A light jumper warmed your goose-bumped arms, and you laughed, thinking how delirious the weather was.
"So does it look like the place to give you an idea for another story?" Shoko asked, taking another slice.
A low hum slipped past your lips as the crispness wrapped around your nostrils. "I can already sense another best-selling murder in a little, eerie town. Or a haunted house, maybe?"
She giggled, nodding slowly. "A haunted house would work," she said, her eyes looking up the long stairs to the attic. "I guess you can ask neighbours about any freaky accidents. Aren’t they like a hundred years old?"
"I don’t know, the listing only mentioned that they’re quiet."
"So maybe they’re dead."
A low tsk escaped your lips, and Shoko chuckled. "I’m just joking. But if they really have been living that long, you should ask them some questions." She wrapped a loose jumper around her arms a bit tighter as a chill wind smooched her cheeks. "This place is so fucking old I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had been murdered here."
A minute of comfortable silence stretched between you before Shoko turned your way, a slight frown on her forehead. "I’m serious. This place was crazy cheap, so what if someone died here? In, you know, the most wicked and horrible way."
Shivers washed over your spine at the sheer thought of someone dying in the same living room where you had just unpacked your things. But at the same time, something exciting bubbled in your belly. Something telling you that the writer’s block that had haunted you for the past few months would finally dissolve into thin air.
That, after all, was the whole point of moving hours away from your previous town. Leave family and friends behind, only to get yourself cosy somewhere, nowhere, in the middle of a forest. In a small, unknown town, living in a centuries-old Victorian house that kept the secrets of the most unknown and dreadful kind.
It’s been a while since you wrote something good. Winning the global charts, an immediate bestseller-type of good.
The past few months had truly been nothing but hellish, with a nasty break-up topping it all. You still tried to kick Sukuna’s body, hunched over some blonde slut, on your shared sofa in your shared apartment out of your mind. His pathetic attempts to coax you up, because he’s been a bit too lonely, simply overly drunk, and he absolutely didn’t mean it.
Three years of relationship ended just like that and a week later, with all the money saved on the previous two bestsellers, you bought this house.
Old and very pinkish, waiting for its owner for a very long time. You didn’t ask much about why. Didn’t ask whether someone had died here or if it was haunted. At that point in your life, it simply didn’t matter. The only thing you were thinking about was how to get away from Sukuna’s begging to bring you back and cut yourself off from your editor’s constant prying about the newest text.
Shoko glanced at your furrowed forehead and sighed. "Here," she said, fiddling with her jeans’ pocket and placing something on the table. "I found it in the drawer of your night table. Maybe you could start by asking about them?"
You looked at the piece of paper before noticing it was, in fact, a picture. Old and a bit crumpled, it showed two young men. The first, closer to the camera, had a loose strand of black hair brushing his cheek. Eyes slightly lidded, looking down at his hands. He looked rather handsome, with a sharp jaw and a straight nose, no more than in his late twenties.
The other man behind him seemed almost ghastly. With white hair and crystal eyes, he looked straight into the camera. Two raised fingers covered his lips, but with only such a bit of detail, you noticed that the beauty of his face was indeed unmatched.
You flipped the photo to see if it had a description. There was something, a few letters, but someone blanked them out with a black marker.
"Previous owners?" You asked, squinting eyes and trying to read what was written under the heavy marker. Unfortunately, to no avail.
Shoko shrugged, chewing another slice of pizza. "A bit young for the owners, no?" You shot her a look, and she chuckled. "Right, sorry. They do look our age. But I don’t think they make cameras like that anymore. It must’ve been taken a long time ago."
Your brows suddenly furrowed, as if you had just remembered something. "You said you found it in the bedside table?" Shoko nodded. "I checked it before, but there was nothing inside."
She stopped chewing, chestnut eyes suddenly bulging. If the plate wasn’t already on her thighs, she would drop a slice of pizza, sauce-side down, dirtying her jeans.
"Don’t joke," she murmured, seeing the wicked smile turning your lips. "Oh my god, stop! I really think there’s something wrong with this house!"
But the thing was – you did not, in fact, joke. After coming into the bedroom and opening all the furniture with handles, you truly didn’t see this photo. It may have slipped to the bottom of the drawer or stuck to one of its sides. You may also have missed one of the three drawers the table had, and indeed didn’t notice it.
Your thumb brushed the old photo. And only then did you notice a yellow, slightly hazy date in the corner.
1966.
Shoko looked at the point your thumb just brushed over and pretended the goosebumps washed over her spine.
"Sixty years ago," she muttered, staring at it with wide eyes. "If your neighbours are that old, surely they will know something about them."
Two hours later, after Shoko helped you unpack most of your belongings and returned to your city – though not before repeatedly assuring you, just call me if anything happens; I’ll get here as fast as I can – you finally found yourself in front of a neighbour's door.
The short stairs led to the ground floor, and you noticed they lived just beneath your kitchen. Thick wooden doors featured a small window in the centre, mostly covered by a curtain. You knocked once, twice, and before deciding to ring the doorbell, you thankfully looked down at the old mat with a don’t ring the doorbell or whistle sign.
"So what am I supposed to do?" You wondered, trying to peek through the blinds.
The inside looked a bit empty, dark, as if no life had graced it for a long, long time. But with a squint of your eyes, you noticed a gentle flicker of the lamp, shining somewhere deep within the house.
"Hello?" You knocked again. "I’m your new neighbour! Just wanted to drop by and say hi!"
But the long silence that stretched between you and the wooden door was broken only by the soft pattering of rain.
And so, with a photo in the back pocket of your jeans and gaze lowered, you turned away and walked up the stairs.
Not a second later, someone fiddled with the handle. You heard a whisper, and the door opened with a loud bang. "Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. Next time, try to knock a bit louder!"
You looked over your shoulder and saw a tall, old woman. With a strange waist-to-breast ratio, you wondered how her back handled the weight of such size. Blond hair, neatly brushed into a bob, and blue eyeshadow smeared on her eyelids.
You tried to suppress a giggle at the pink fur she wore, which made her look more like an old dancer than a senior lady.
"Oh, hello. I’m sorry to bother you, but I just moved in and wanted to say—"
"Of course, sweetie, come in, come in," she turned back to look at someone. "Darling, please boil the water for tea! We have a guest."
And so you slipped inside the dark house, only then noticing that the long corridor stretched further into the place. The woman led you right to the velvet curtain covering the rest of the home, and as she lifted it, a large, dimly lit living room spread before you.
With multiple flickering candles scattered all over the place – decorating the chimney, shelves, and a low wooden table set right out from the sofa. Red cushions swallowed you whole as you plumped down.
Only then did you notice at least five dogs running around the room. Barking, sniffing your slightly wet shoes, jumping on the sofa and trying to lick your cheek. You pushed them away with a low giggle before a blond woman took them all down to the old carpet and joined you on the couch.
"Call me Miss Forcible, sweetie," she said, looking towards the chimney. At the large picture showing two slim women dressed in tight gymnastic suits. "For I was unmatched for a whole life!"
A short gasp slipped past your lips as you looked closer. Both women looked as if they were in their late twenties, with beaming smiles and circus-like decorations stretching behind them. A waterfall of colours, ribbons and lights, and you could almost smell the familiar scent of burnt popcorn and the cheesy melody that mingled with children’s laughter.
You recognised the tall lady with long, blond hair, but the other one, with an arm wrapped around her waist…
"And me, Miss Pink!" A slightly pitched voice filled the dimmed living room, turning your head towards a room that seemed to be a kitchen.
A short, older woman walked out, carrying three cups of tea. A bit curvier than her friend, much, much smaller, she reminded you of an apple. Pink hair curled under her eyes, making her plump face look even plumper.
Three cups of tea were set on the low table, while Miss Pink slouched in the soft chair next to the couch. Dressed in a green bathrobe braided with plastic feathers. Her rosy face smooched with a round, crimson blush, reminding you of those vintage china dolls with cheeks plump like peaches and a round bloom coating their pale skin.
"Oh, our new neighbour?" She asked, looking at her friend.
Miss Forcible nodded, placing a cup in front of you. "Yes, darling, this is…"
You introduced yourself with a giggle, feeling a slightly intimate manner stretch between the two women.
"Such a beautiful name!" Miss Pink gasped, pushing a plate of buttery cookies towards you. "And what a beautiful owner!"
A shy thank you slipped past your lips as you bit into a cookie. Buttery creaminess spilled over your tongue, with a few sugary droplets moving under your teeth.
Miss Forcible nodded and picked up her cup of tea. "So why here, sweetie? Isn’t Pink Palace a bit too… vintage for a young bird like you?"
You swallowed the cookie and took a sip of black, bitter tea. Miss Pink watched you with a gentle smile, like a sweet, caressing auntie.
"I think the house is beautiful. And I just needed a little break from the city’s rush," you half-lied, not mentioning the break-up. "Oh, I’m also a horror writer and thought a Victorian house would be a perfect place to get a few fresh ideas."
A few dogs sat patiently by your legs, waiting for a few crumbs to drop onto the carpet. Something sweet lingered in the air, and the room was much warmer than your house. More cosy, homey, so you let yourself sink deeper into the couch.
"This house is full of ghastly stories!" Miss Pink gasped. "And if you visit a nearby town, I’m sure you’ll find some spooky tales. I think you can still visit the place where they burned witches," she giggled, and you followed. A minute later, a thought clouded her forehead, and thin, pale eyebrows lifted. "Actually, why won’t you ask the boys? They know everything about that stuff."
Your head tilted, and your hand froze over the second cookie. Miss Pink nodded, as if to herself, and Miss Forcible sighed.
"Darling, they moved out a long time ago," she said, adding a sugar cube to her tea. The third one already. "She’s too young to know them."
Miss Pink hummed under her breath, chubby fingers fiddling with a bathrobe. "Ah, right, indeed. I seem to forget how much time has passed," she muttered, taking a sip of tea. "I wonder how they’re doing."
Now your ears pricked up and eyes shone with curiosity. It was a pity you didn’t have a notebook to write down this brief chit-chat, but your brain was already working at full speed to memorise every detail.
"Who knows?" Miss Forcible waved her hand. "Moved out, went missing… They just disappeared one day. It was for the best; enough problems had been caused by their presence."
And then, you remembered. The thing you came here for.
The picture felt like a burn on your skin, as if reminding you of a hidden mystery within its thin, paper-like form. You pulled it from your back pocket and placed it on the low table. A few candles cast a warm glow over the old photo, making it shimmer faintly.
"Are you talking about these two?"
Miss Pink and Forcible leaned in, squinting at the photo. One of the dogs leapt onto the sofa, nuzzling its furry head against your shoulder and waiting to be stroked. You scratched it with a giggle, as it bounced in place. Miss Pink gasped, pointing at the men with her long nail.
"Darling, we made this photo!" She exclaimed, glancing up at Miss Forcible.
"Mhm," the other woman hummed, still squinting her blue eyes. "I remember. On the day you broke your ankle."
"And they needed to take me all the way to the town’s hospital," Miss Pink said, turning your way. "We were fifteen then, just before a local acrobatic competition."
Your head tilted as a few questions began to bubble beneath your chest. "So it was…"
"Sixty years ago," Miss Forcible sighed, setting down her cup of tea. "They lived here for four years before their sudden disappearance."
Candles on the table flickered, though the air stayed still and sweet. Sugary, with a buttery scent clinging to your clothes. But you didn’t mind, taking another cookie from the plate.
"Can you tell me a bit more about them?" You asked, swallowing the sweetness with warm tea.
But Miss Forcible only frowned, her gaze fixed on the low table. Blonde locks were neatly tucked behind her ears, and blue eyeshadow smudged across the eyelids and along the waterline. She looked young for a seventy-five-year-old, though wrinkles did indeed bend and curve across her slim face.
"They were real gentlemen…"
"Only because they were nice to us doesn't mean they may be called gentlemen, darling."
Miss Pink pouted, shaking her head. "Well, they were quite nice indeed. And funny, especially this one," she said, her finger pointing at the white-haired man. "Although I don't seem to remember his name. He always gave me sweets and dolls," she added, this time her wrinkled finger moving to the black-haired man. "Made by him. Oh, and he always spent all day in the garden! It was so beautiful, I tell you, sweetie. I lived in the attic apartment back then, and we always had so much fun!"
A smile tugged at your lips as the image of such a vast space in full bloom suddenly popped into your mind. If only the rain stopped for a moment, you could go and take care of it. Ignore the book you haven't even started yet and your phone, which glimmered with a dickhead nickname at least five times a day.
"But the townspeople never liked them," Miss Forcible added, pulling a heavy sigh from her darling. "Outcasts, you may say."
"Why?" You asked, taking a sip of still-warm tea.
It pooled in your stomach, rising as a fluttering, tender feeling.
But it seemed your question carried a sort of mouth-shutting spell. Both women looked at each other, a sense of something obscure clouding their foreheads in the same manner. A thought, a memory, long forgotten in the corners of their minds, was pulled back with a single question of yours.
And, from their expressions, the memory seemed to be of no pleasant sort. But rather a nightmare that plagued their wrinkled heads, with gazes crossing and reddened lips sighing lowly.
A long minute stretched between you, with warm candles flickering over a single buttery cookie left on the plate, and an old clock ticking tick-tock tick-tock, filling the room with its steady tune.
Then, suddenly, Miss Pink’s eyes glimmered, and a life turned to her flushed cheeks once again. Wrinkled hand petted one of the dogs as she giggled under her nose and glanced at the blonde woman.
"Darling, why won’t you invite the boys over? I haven’t seen them in a long time."
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Five minutes later, you were standing under the long stairs leading to another neighbour.
The words all of them are old and crazy said by your real estate agent, still lingered in your mind, and thus you simply deduced that Miss Pink simply had a sort of dementia.
Miss Forcible, on the other hand, seemed to know something. Remember, of the two men, whose picture once again burned through the back pocket of your jeans.
After finishing the tea, you decided to excuse yourself, as it seemed your questions were only making one, if not both, of the elderly women uncomfortable. Although it was a pity, as they truly seemed to be the only ones who could tell you as much about those two young men.
The rain was pitter-pattering on your yellow coat draped over the loose jumper. A low huff slipped past your lips, seeing the sky still showing no trace of the warmth you longed for. Although the weather indeed looked rather perfect for indulging yourself in a story.
Or at least its outline.
Or maybe simply opening the draft.
You walked up the stairs, its old, rusty metal chattering under your steps.
You knew nothing of the other neighbour, aside from the fact that he used to work in a circus. A tall man with a certain accent, as Miss Forcible said. Rather weird, smelling of radish and with little footprints following him all around.
So when you knocked on the white door, you expected to hear another wave of barks. Or maybe a low meow, slipping from the endless darkness spilling behind the small window.
This time, you didn’t have to wait long, as the door opened with a creak. If not for your rather quick reflexes, the man, at least two metres tall, would surely have hit your nose.
"Excuse me?" You gasped, quickly jumping back.
Your eyes followed up, and up, through the tight shirt hugging his torso, with a few stains on its white material. Through the long arms and wide chest, till fixing on a thick moustache and eyes squinted like a cat. Sandy irises looking up and down your drenched body, with a yellow hood of a raincoat protecting your head.
"Excuse you indeed, young lady," his voice was low and lined with a sort of bitterness. "Who are you, if I may ask?"
You took another step back, feeling a strong smell of radish emanating from his body. So the weird ladies were saying the truth.
"I’m your new neighbour," you pointed downstairs at the porch. "Just wanted to say hi, and–"
"Hello," he said and a second later, the door closed.
Simply, just like that, leaving your mouth open and fingers digging into the wet palms. The darkness spilt behind the little glass window, with a white curtain covering the inside of his attic apartment.
It’s not like you desperately wanted to come in, but… well. You did want that.
To see the inside of his house, ask about the previous owners from sixty years ago. Although considering the timeline, there was a chance he wouldn’t even know them. And a man looked a bit younger, too, of no more than sixty years.
With a low, irritated sigh and dickhead slipping past your lips, you started walking downstairs.
Stairs felt slippery under your shoes, rain hit your cheeks, and the photo weighed almost a ton. Filling the inside of your pocket like little stones, till you felt each scratch and crumple of the paper.
The hood obscured your vision, forcing you to focus on the metal stairs. Crystal droplets hit your ears, also making you rather deaf to anything else around you.
And thus you didn’t hear, didn’t feel the footsteps following you, until a heavy hand landed on your shoulder.
You turned with a shock, twisting your face and letting a muffled gasp escape throat.
The man who closed the door in front of your nose stood mere millimetres from you. With face eerily close to yours, finger pressed to lips and gaze fixed somewhere. Over your shoulder, down the stairs, towards the porch and the crying windows.
"What–"
"My mice say, young lady cannot open the door," he whispered, still looking anywhere but into your eyes.
As if whatever he said was of the utmost secret.
Your forehead furrowed, and nose squirmed, feeling the strong smell.
"The door? What door?" You asked in an equally whispering tone.
He, finally, looked at your face. A low hum filled his throat and moustache moved with a parting of his lips.
"The small door. Don’t open them."
You didn’t check each corner of the house yet, but did not see any sort of the small door he was talking about.
Old and crazy, you remembered the agent’s enigmatic voice.
But the man… did not look crazy at all. Rather, something flickered behind his gaze, as if the little door he talked about was the centre of his recurring nightmares. The way his fearful gaze slipped between you and the porch of your house quickly spiked your interest.
And it also sent a shiver down your spine as he once again pressed a finger to his lips.
"Don’t talk," bulging eyes quickly glanced to one of the big windows. "They hear everything."
"They?"
He nodded before finally pulling away. His tall, lean body straightened, with a few joints popping here and there. Only then did you notice he was wearing sports shorts. A little too tight, a bit too short.
A face, twisted in fear just a few minutes before, now slipped again into this stony, a bit indifferent expression. As if whatever was plaguing his mind just now, simply withered.
"That’s what the mice say. Sometimes they are…" His finger swirled around his temple, lips whistled. "… a bit crazy. But never wrong. Don’t open those little doors, young lady."
And with that, he once again went back to his attic apartment. Leaving you shocked and cold, with a gentle wind brushing your lips and rain tapping faintly, tap-tap-tap, on your yellow coat.
The moment you slipped back into your house, the first thing you did, as a devilishly curious woman, was to search high and low for the little door the man had been talking about.
With the afternoon long gone, the sun slowly hid below the horizon, bathing the grey sky in dark, purplish hues of the evening hour. A light rain still hit your windows, nevertheless letting a low melody of crickets fill the chilly air.
And when the night fell, the house seemed to change too. Into something more wicked, lined with an eerie sensation, scratching the centuries-old walls. With the scent of all the people who lived here before still lingering in the air. The warm light of the old lamps twinkled dimly, lingering over your body that looked frenetically for the little doors.
Head slipping into the bathroom, bedroom, or even down into the basement, though this time going down the wooden stairs took a bit more courage. The fireplace in the living room crackled and popped weakly, pop-pop-pop, filling the house with a cosy, woody smell.
"Where are you?" You muttered to yourself, standing in the kitchen and listening to the tapping sink.
You would need to call someone to fix it, but your main goal now was to uncover the thing your neighbour forbade you from finding.
And then, while looking through the kitchen drawers – you found it.
A key, black and lean, ending in a small, button-like shape. It felt heavy in your palm and looked quite old, as if it were meant for doors long gone, with a lock forgotten by the time.
A low hum slipped past your lips as you fiddled with it. The doors of the house were already rather old, yet this one seemed not to fit either of them.
Returning to the living room, you plumped down on a sofa with a sigh, eyes still fixed on the key. The black paint coated its long barrel, and it was slightly larger than what you were accustomed to.
The doors must’ve been somewhere – close, at the fingertips, as you could almost feel their presence nearby.
Somewhere… in this room.
The flickering of the flame bathed one of the walls in a gentle glow. The flowery tapestry was rather dark, with multiple ornaments twisting and bending across its surface.
And yet, something piqued your interest.
The small bulge seemed to arrange itself into a low square. Your head tilted, and eyes followed the swollen lines just above floor level.
You slipped off the couch and crawled towards the eerie shape, a key still clutched in your fingers.
The palm pressed against the wall, and you knocked it once, twice, hearing the echo ring somewhere on the other side.
The door.
But it seemed that, for some reason, they were covered by the tapestry. So with the sharper end of the key, you gently traced their outline, peeling the coating from their surface.
A low gasp slipped past your lips, seeing the eerie, faded blue wooden doors in all their fullness. With no handle to pull them and only a big lock awaiting the key gripped in your fingers.
Excitement bubbled in your chest, eyes gleamed, and fingers trembled as a key slipped into the lock. You turned it with a soft click, and dust swirled in the air, rising from the cracks that had been sealed for the past few hundred years.
Your heart galloped, beating against your chest in low thumps until you felt the tremble wash over your body.
Using the fingers, you pulled the old surface – slowly, slowly, till the door opened fully and…
And presented you a miserable sight of a brick wall.
Old and dusty, with red bricks stacked one on top of another, filling the cosy living room with a musty smell.
"You must be joking," you groaned, a low sound escaping your throat as you hit the wall with a fist. "I can’t believe it!"
Because, as you already thought, a new idea for a story would finally slip easily into your mind, all the dreams were shattered in a single second.
And thus your head hung between your shoulders. After a few deep breaths, you took the key from the door and slammed it shut with a furious thud. The wooden surface bounced off the wall, leaving a small gap.
Small enough to allow something, someone, to see you walk away with heavy, disappointed footsteps.
The Victorian-style house looked a bit creepy, but rather cute. Very pinkish. Perfectly serene for your remote job and longing for silence. And everything would be wonderful if not for this little weird doll that looks like you and a small door in the living room, leading to... nowhere? And what about those two guys who lived here sixty years ago?
˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: Satosugu x Reader
˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnigs: ꒰ Coraline AU :: yandere :: stalking :: Satoru and Suguru have buttons for eyes :: they desperately want you to stay :: horror :: hope it will be a bit creepy :: obsessive behaviours :: possessive behaviour :: dark romance :: heavy smut :: manipulation :: death :: demons :: use of some Coraline conspiracy theories ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ notes: The first chapter will be posted on June 22! And on that day I will also post my main summerween, slasher collection <3
My dearest townsfolk! You have no idea how excited I am for this series! It is a part of my Summerween collection, but since my main collection focuses on slashers, I decided to post the Coraline separately!
art by by K05062688 - twitter
button divider by @saradika-graphics
Suguru loves giving her sweet assistant special treatment! Be it wearing mini skirts barely brushing her ass or fucking you on a CEO's desk after a long, tiring day!
requested by fair anon
˖𑁤 ݁˖ pairings: Ceo fem!Suguru x Assistant!Reader
˖𑁤 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ wlw :: office romance :: age gap (reader in early 20s, Suguru in early 30s) :: mentions of femjo (ofc, my wifey) :: mature women :: dominant Suguru :: reader is such a minx :: flirting :: fluff :: smut :: oral sex :: use of strap-on :: reader calls her mommy :: tit sucking :: office sex :: 2k words ꒱
˖𑁤 ݁˖ notes: Oh, fem boss Suguru, the things I would do for you...
divider by @uzmacchiato
art by @/sugurusboobs on X
Everyone in the office knew your CEO was hot. Dominant, sharp-tongued, always spreading an air around herself that squeezed the throats of her workers.
Some believe that having a female boss is much better than having a male one, but Suguru proved them wrong every day. The most successful woman in Japan, leading the fashion industry with her brilliant projects that reached global markets, the "ruthless matriarch" as some liked to call her.
And whenever she entered the office, the atmosphere always seemed to shift slightly. Her employees looked up at her tall figure as she hurried down the corridors. Black, silky hair brushed her waist, a tight shirt clung to her heavy breasts, and hips swayed in gentle waves beneath the tight-fitting trousers. She was tall, yet there was never a day she didn't wear heels, always looming like a ghastly figure over the male employees.
Having neither a husband nor children, she stayed in the office day and night, working her ass off just to keep the number-one spot in global markets. Her Forbes Under 30, Best Fashion Designer Award, and Top Ten Richest Women in the world.
Some might say she was a pretty good boss. Kind and polite, though slightly cold in demeanour. Staying overtime wasn't that bad when she paid her employees three times the hourly rate and ensured they all worked efficiently.
Everyone knew that as long as she didn't pay much attention to you, life was good. Great, even. Everyone truly wanted to keep minimal contact with their boss, who reminded them of a praying mantis rather than a woman.
No one wished to look into her squinted, almond-shaped eyes and be drawn into the heaviness of her lavender gaze. No one wished to land in her office, only to receive the harsh scolding that pushed tears into her employees' eyes.
No one, and truly no one, knew... how you did that.
Get on her sweet, caring side, that is.
The young assistant who joined the company only a few months ago suddenly became the centre of her attention.
Your first day at a company would be treated as a total failure by most of your coworkers. With a miniskirt wrapped around your hips, its hem barely brushing your middle thighs, and a red bra showing through the white shirt. Long socks covered your legs up to the knees, giving your thighs a little squish.
You... didn't look bad. But also did not look corporate-like.
When Utahime saw you, she almost had a heart attack. Shoko, the menager, told you to send a prayer.
"Boss pays close attention to proper attire," she said, tugging at your skirt. "So I wish you good luck."
And thus, on the first day, after getting accustomed to your teammates and managers, you finally went to the lion's den.
The nicely manicured hand knocked on the milky-glassed door, and when a low come in, slipped from the room, you pushed the handle with a squeezed throat.
And then... you saw her.
Your knees nearly buckled, heart fluttered with warmth filling your chest, and mind suddenly went blank.
As the woman who sat behind the desk must have truly been a descendant of a Goddess herself. Lavender eyes traced your body, dark locks smooched her cheeks and lips, crimson red, curving into a little smile.
The white shirt was tight around her chest, and a single thin necklace nestled between her plush breasts. Long cherry nails tapped on the desk, filling the silent room.
"Close the door, sweets," she said, taking in the sudden warmth that hit your cheeks.
With a shy oh, you pushed the heavy glass, separating you two from the commotion and whispers outside. Her office was mostly made of glass walls, but the milkiness of their structure allowed for a bit of privacy.
On the one side, it certainly was good.
But on the other hand, you felt ashamed of the wetness beginning to pool in your panties. The heat bubbling in your stomach, fingers fiddling with the edge of your skirt, and only now did you realise how truly short it was.
"Good morning boss, I'm your n-new assistant," fuck, of course your voice failed you when it shouldn't!
Suguru hummed, finally standing up. Long legs, wrapped in loose trousers, moved in front of the desk before she leaned against its edge, head tilted.
Your figure didn't escape the heavy gaze for even a second, and so you wriggled awkwardly in place, trying to cover your naked thighs with miserable attempts.
"Come a bit closer, I don't bite," she chuckled, and the smoothest melody curled around your ears.
You walked towards her, cheeks burning and eyes unable to look away as her plump thighs spread when she sat on a desk. Thick and meaty, you wished to bite into them with a delicious moan, before slipping up to–oh dearst heavens!
You shouldn't have such nasty thoughts about your boss!
With fingers lightly pinching your thighs, just to wake yourself up for the delirious, lustful dream, you finally stood in front of her.
The sweet fragrance of her perfume tickled your nose, and a devil perched on your arm whispered minx-like temptations to lean in and lick the sweetness of her milky neck.
Oh, perhaps you should consider resigning immediately.
"So you're my new assistant, hm?" she asked, noticing the red lace bra peeking through your shirt.
"I am, boss." You noticed her gaze and mentally slapped yourself. You may or may not have forgotten to do the laundry. "I'm s-sorry, I'll work on my attire. It's just that this morning–"
But Suguru just giggled, reaching for your skirt and tugging at the hem. As her fingers brushed your thighs, you were grateful for the extra pair of panties in your bag, since the ones you wore were too soaked to last the day.
"It's okay, sweets. Your attire is perfectly fine," she said, lavender eyes mingling like little stars.
Your lips parted, and you were nearly certain she could hear the rapid beat of your heart. Pounding as if it were about to cause a cardiac arrest any second.
"Oh," slipped quietly, as your gazes crossed. "Manager Shoko said–"
"It doesn't matter what she said. I like your skirt," and before you could respond, she straightened up, towering at least a head taller. "You can get back to work now. I'll call if I need anything."
And thus, since that day, Suguru, for the first time, seemed to be bewitched.
Maybe it was the loveliness of your face, or maybe the way your soft voice wrapped around her senses in the most pleasurable way.
The employees soon noticed the special treatment she seemed to shower you with – your favourite coffee waiting on your desk each morning, a pair of new heels under your desk since you broke the other pair the other day, and a workload much lighter than your teammates'.
Your desk was placed right next to Suguru's office, yet still within the shared area. As a result, people who had always taken the utmost pleasure in not seeing the boss for a whole day now seemed to walk on eggshells.
As Suguru slipped from her office much more often than she used to. Only to come to your desk and have a little, lovely chitchat as if nothing in this world mattered more than hearing your chipper at least five times a day.
Sometimes she would invite you to lunch, and other times she shooed away Satoru, whose crystal gaze quickly noticed the new sweet assistant. Her closest, most irritating friend, who took a special pleasure in flirting with you in the nastiest, cheeks-heating ways.
And when you got more comfortable, noticing that Suguru seemed as interested in you as you were in her... the big flirtation war had started.
You – bending in front of her desk, because, oh, boss, it seems you dropped a pen! Miniskirt lifting up to show your red laced panties with a little wet spot right on your pussy.
Her – flushing cherry red, wriggling on the leather chair in an uncomfortable manner, and throwing another pen right in front of her eyes.
You – coming to her with each silly problem, just to chirp foolishly like a sweet birdie and look at her with round, doe eyes.
Her – coming to your desk and bending over, until the heavy breasts pressed against your arm and lips were mere millimetres from your heated ear.
You – flirting back with Satoru, biting your lip with a giggle.
Her – inviting you to her office after hours, only to fuck you like a madwoman with a long, pinkish strapon.
Your ass red from all the gentle slaps, tits pressed to her desk, and tears rolling down your cheeks whenever the round her smooched your cervix.
She would lean in and lick a long stripe up your spine, just to leave crimson kisses across your heated skin.
"Do you like to see me jealous, sweets?" Her voice curled around your earlobe as she shoved the silicone toy up to your belly.
Nothing but wet squelches and your moans filled her dark office as you tried to keep yourself steady on her desk. With fingers gripping the edge and hips rolling back, just to meet her every brutal thrust.
"Mmm," a cry fell past your lips, as her fingers slipped down your hips and flickered over your swollen clit. "B-Boss, I–ahhh–I'm s-sorry!"
She chuckled, rolling the hardener bud between her fingers. "Are you? It seemed you enjoyed yourself quite a lot."
With a single move, she rolled you over. Back pressed to the desk, thighs glued to the chest, till she pushed you into a mean, mating press.
"No, I–fuck–I didn't," another cry rolled as she pushed the dildo even deeper.
Till her hips met yours and tight cunt moulded under the thick, drenched toy. The sight of her full hips and jiggling breasts made your head spin. Saliva trickled down your chin, and she brushed it away with a low giggle.
"So you think my eyes are lying?" She leaned in until her heavy breasts pressed against yours. "Tell me, sweetie, do you think your boss is lying? Or maybe you just want to get fucked stupid in front of Satoru, hm? I think she would be quite happy–ah!"
A low, satin moan slipped past her lips as your fingers rolled her nipples, giving them a gentle squeeze. She looked utterly beautiful, bewitching, with crimson lipstick smeared on her cheek and a little heart twinkling behind her eyes.
Her pace was maddeningly ruthless, pumping you full with a thick cock and melting you beneath her fingers. She soon cut her three nails short, only to have a better time with your always drenched cunt.
As when she wasn't fucking you mad with a silicone cock – she had your spread on her office sofa.
With you sucking on her breasts and her pumping all three digits deep into your swollen pussy. Raven hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, and her teeth bit down on lower lip whenever you moaned around her hardened bud.
"Mommy–mmm–you taste so fucking good," a whimper hit her sensitive breasts as you slurped at the heaviness of her breasts.
The fat was spilling from between your fingers, sweet buds deep in your throat, as she bent her fingers to hit your sweet spot.
"Am I?" she asked, brushing a loose strand of your hair with another hand. "You would love to drink mommy's milk, wouldn't you?"
A quick nod shook your head as you allowed your face to get squished between her breasts. "Mhm, I wish you would get pregnant so I could suck on your tits every single day."
You soon left her breasts, only to go down, and down, tracing wet kisses across her belly, hips, till finally folding her legs to bury yourself in the sweetness of her cunt.
Nothing turned you on more than seeing her always so serious face twisted in pleasure, as you drank the hefty juices dripping down your throat. Your lips wrapped around her swollen clit, and two fingers slipped inside to feel the warm walls clench around your digits.
You loved feeling her thick thighs wrap around your head – pulling you closer, cutting off the air until you could breathe and eat nothing but the creaminess of her pussy. She tasted oh so heavenly, making your own cunt drench on the sofa and thighs clench in painful need.
"Mhm, sweets, you're doing so well," she purred, brushing your hair. "My cute little assistant."
You looked up to her with teary eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. "Do you feel good, mommy?"
Your lips sucked on her clit, and she bent into a delicious arc. "So good, fuck, come on sweetie, make me cum."
You nodded, pumping your fingers faster, meaner. Hitting her spot with every bent, slurping on the clit till her walls finally clenched hard around your digits and sweet ambrosia gushed down your throat.
You drank everything she gave you. With crossed eyes and juices dripping down your chin, overstimulating her pussy with a maddening pumping.
Till she finally needed to rip you away and pull closer, only to close your lips in a messy, drenched kiss. With plush lips smooching yours and a heavy fragrance wrapping around your senses.
As she tugged at your hair to pull you back, only a silver thread connected your swollen lips.
"Am I a g-good assistant?" you cried, feeling her thumb brush your heated cheek.
A sly smile tugged on her lips as he tilted her head. "Of course, sweetie. A fucking employee of the month."
One year of marriage was not enough for Lord Hades to look into his most beloved Goddess's eyes without turning cherry-red. Yet, surprisingly, it was enough to make Lady Aphrodite pregnant! Although breaking the news to her husband proved to be quite a challenge.
included in Tales, Myths, Romances :: part one
˖𑣲 ݁˖ pairings: ꒰ Hades!Choso Kamo x Aphrodite!Reader ꒱
˖𑣲 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ set in ancient greece :: greek mythology :: marriage :: fluff :: smut smut smut :: pregnancy :: dominant reader :: submissive Choso :: not mythologically accurate :: belly bulges :: womb kissing :: pussydrunk Choso :: pregnancy :: pregnant sex :: oral sex :: cunnilingus :: blowjobs :: crying Choso :: he calls the reader mommy :: mentions of Heracles!Nanami ꒱
˖𑣲 ݁˖ notes: ꒰ Requested by @olegirldowntheblock (I'm sorry you needed to wait that long! ꒱
art by mochikuyo
dividers by @diviniyae and @uzmacchiato
The wine flowed like a river, dripping dull into the golden cups shimmering in the pale moonlight. Ocean waves curled beneath the cliffs of Mount Olympus, crashing against each other in a distant, main melody.
Warm wind smooched your cheeks – slightly dizzy, already pulsing with pain from constant laughter. Hair brushed your forehead as your head lulled back, falling gently against the hard chest.
Muscular arms curled around your waist, thighs tensed beneath your plush body, and something hard… dug deep into the swell of your ass. Long, pale fingers gripped the hem of your pinkish robes as you pushed out a low giggle.
Narrowed eyes slipped towards the man whose always-so-pale cheeks brimmed with a flush. When your eyes met, he warmed even more – till the tips of his ears sizzled like fresh pomegranates as, after a year of marriage, his gaze somehow could barely bear yours.
"My God, are you good?" Your sweet breath curled around his lobe as you leaned closer. "I’ve noticed that my seat suddenly became harder."
With your plush body on his lap and arms curled around you protectively, Choso could simply shrug and push a shy, "My Goddess, it’s because you said we didn’t have time…"
"That’s because you always insist on eating me out for hours, my God," you gently bit down on his earlobe, feeling a shudder slip past his lips. A little shell-earring swung beneath the push of your tongue, and you looked at it with a warm smile. "And it’s your brother’s birthday, of course, we couldn’t be late."
A low he wouldn’t mind, escaped Choso’s throat, before the deep eyes shyly crept up to meet yours. Squinted, cheeky, dripping with sensuality and lust, wrapping around his senses in a most maddening way.
Oh, and the God of the Dead, the mightiest of three brothers, most feared in all three realms – simply couldn’t look into the eyes of his most dearest wife for longer than a second!
For a fire bubbled in his loins, heart, throat, and the feeling of your plush, silky body beneath his fingers was driving him absolutely mad. His gaze slipped down to your chin, neck, and breast, sitting calmly under the flimsy, pinkish dress, and with a gentle squint of his eyes, he could see a hard areola of your nipples.
"My Goddess, your d-dress, I t-think…" he whispered, looking around the table.
However, other Gods and nymphs were already used to this odd couple, who appeared to nurture their love through a different, yet satisfying, desire to dominate and be dominated. Whenever a young couple attended the feasts, Lord Hades often seemed on the verge of collapse, while Goddess Aphrodite watched her husband with a sly smile.
Such a peculiar couple, indeed, but after some time, the other deities became accustomed to it.
Although a few of them, be they Gods or demigods, looked at Lord Hades with jealousy bubbling in their chests. As none of them could comprehend the spell this slightly miserable man must have put on a beauty like you.
Didn’t understand what you saw in those puppy eyes and that gaze that always yearned to watch the smile curving your lips. His shadow, broad and tall, followed the flowery steps left beneath your feet with obedience – fingers always wrapped around yours, dark robes brushing the flimsy silk of your pinkish dress. He looked quite unmanly in demeanour, with raven hair spilling down his neck and pale skin that looked rather womanly.
But what they didn’t understand most was how deeply in love with him you truly seemed to be. Living most of the time in the Underworld, as if indifferent to the constant darkness spilling over the cold land and the grim souls wandering aimlessly through the deep forests.
The Styx smelt of death, and the beastly dog embodied everything you always hated – brutality, destruction, loyalty.
Tying you down always seemed impossible – as Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes, and even mortal lover Adonis were in awe of your devotion to Lord Hades himself. A figure of a completely different mind and demeanour, and yet the only one deserving of your cheerful spirit and arms wrapped lovingly around his neck.
"They’re staring again," Choso whispered, beads of sweat coiling on his neck. Your hard nipples brushed against his chest, and your hips wriggled on his lap. "Please, c-can you stop–"
"Let them stare then," you hummed, pressing yourself closer to his tensed body. "You have no idea how jealous they are, my God."
Choso, unfortunately, knew. As he was always watching you, noticing all those needy, painful looks from other Gods sent your way. With lust coiling behind their eyes, fingers itching to brush the misty material of your robes, hearts pounding with a virgin bat upon seeing the completely indifferent flutter of your lashes. Irises cold as ice, stripped of any cheekiness and sensuality you always used to surround yourself with.
And thus, other Gods could only gaze upon you with dreamy eyes, remembering the days when Goddess Aphrodite was more than welcome to treat every man on the mountain like her dog.
But now, this grace fell only upon Lord Hades.
You took a sip of pomegranate juice, letting it bloom in your chest with a pleasant warmth. A slight dizziness washed over you, and you nuzzled into Choso’s chest, leaving the God tense and sweating. With slightly drunk eyes that still looked at you the same way they had those years ago – with pure devotion, love, maybe a bit of obsession.
Before you could tease your husband again, someone pulled up a chair beside you and plumped down with a low chuckle.
"My Lord, one might think your face is twisted in pain," Satoru chipped in, taking a big sip of wine. The short tunic barely covered his chest, and a laurel wreath sat slightly crooked on his fluffy white hair. "Shall you take some fresh air?"
Choso coughed, pulling you closer to his chest. A smile tugged at your lips as his muscular arms wrapped around your waist a little tighter.
Such a possessive little minx.
"I’m feeling quite well, just… a bit drunk," Choso muttered, as he simply couldn’t confess that the moment you would slip down from his hips, the loose, black robes would bulge with a big, drenched spot.
Satoru’s gaze flicked between your sly smile and Choso’s puppy eyes before he took another sip. His usually pale face flushed with grape warmth, as long fingers tapped the table.
"Come on, say it," your head tilted.
Satoru’s eyes glimmered, and lips curled into a soft pout. "How did you know I wanted something?"
"How couldn’t I? We’re almost like siblings."
A sharp grimace slashes his handsome face as the relationship between you two could be described in much, much better terms. Best friends, ex-lovers, family… siblings were… well. Some Gods enjoyed it, but not you two.
Satoru was one of your few ex-lovers who truly liked and respected Choso.
Did he enjoy making fun of his constantly sheepish demeanour? Sure.
But his actions were never driven by jealousy, and thus you appreciated that he knew how to behave himself around your husband.
And Choso, who long before your meeting used to slip into your temple and, like the pervert he truly was, watch you and Satoru fuck – also couldn’t quite be against him. In fact, he may have felt a slight gratitude that the God of Light, Sun and Music had pointed at him at a similar feast those years ago.
"How’s your prince doing?" you asked, lips curving into a lovely smile that tugged at both men’s hearts. "My doves suddenly stopped returning from their spy missions."
Satoru’s head tilted, eyes glimmering with mischief. His fingers gripped the golden cup a little tighter as he leaned towards you and Choso.
"The prince recently got himself a fierce tiger, you see," he cleared his throat, coming closer and closer until the three of you were locked in a secret whispering circle. "My Goddess, do you remember when we talked about those…" Blue eyes twinkled like little stars. "Fertility pills?"
Both you and Choso froze.
Satoru tried to, but wasn’t fast enough to add please don’t laugh, and loud, melodic laughter curled like a serpent around the ears of the nearest deities. Their curious eyes slipped your way, taking in the Lady Aphrodite, hysterical with tears, Lord Hades, with ears constantly flushed, and Apollo squinting at the Goddess.
A moment passed before you finally managed to wipe away your tears and look into Satoru’s eyes without bursting into laughter.
"Truly a viper woman you are, my Goddess," he murmured, and you noticed a rosy kiss smooching his cheeks.
"So which one of you wants to get pregnant?" You asked, leaning your head against Choso’s shoulder. "I guess you, since the prince wouldn’t think of such a thing."
Satoru tsked, taking another sip of a wine. "Of course, me," he seemed almost offended by your question. "His birthday is coming up, so–"
"So you want to get pregnant?"
"That’s right," Satoru glimmered, yet warmth and kindness shone in his gaze. Blue eyes dropped to the crystal ring on his finger, shining faintly in the pale moonlight. "I thought I wouldn’t mind seeing a little him cradled in my arms."
And those words… stirred something in your heart. Some thoughts slipped into your dizzy yet conscious mind, and they wouldn’t leave until the end of the feast. The voices sounded almost distant, like ocean waves closing you off behind curling salt, completely separating you from the other deities.
Satoru and Choso chatted casually, sometimes slipping a few questions your way. But your mind and soul seemed elsewhere. Eyes fixed on the softness of your belly, with Choso’s big hand resting on it.
And so you began to wonder how it would look a bit… fuller. Plumper, with a sweet swell bulging beneath your misty robes, your husband’s palm rubbing gently against the skin protecting your dear child.
Your heart fluttered, already imagining the little pale child strolling through the dark fields of the Underworld and playing in the warm water of your beaches. With, maybe, hopefully, the same deep, chestnut eyes as your husband and the same gentleness you wished it would inherit.
Only a few days had passed since you had noticed a sudden change in your body. The sudden tenderness of breasts, the plumpness of your skin, eyes shining with a tender love, much softer and kinder than usual. Hand subconsciously slipping down to your belly, and a sudden spark of divine creation weighing your heart.
This morning, while enjoying the rays of sunlight in your temple on Olympus, your nymphs began to watch you more closely. Your naked body, dipped in crystal-clear water, hair wet and clinging to glowing cheeks, breasts a little swollen, hips seeming plumper. A hand resting gently on your still-flat belly, yet they seemed to know. They noticed.
"My Goddess," one of them chirped, swimming a little closer. With eyes fixed on your relaxed face, she brushed away a few strands. "The sisters had noticed that you might be…" Her head tilted, and her gaze slipped down to your belly. "It seems you’re with child."
A sweet giggle slipped from your lips, and the nymph flushed with fever. The other birdies joined her, gathering around you like a group of ducks.
"Is that true then? Goddess, are you with Lord Hades’s child?"
A warm smile curved your lips, and you nodded, prompting another wave of their shrieks and gasps. Their little hands, one by one, touched your belly, as if trying to feel the child who yet possessed neither mind nor form. But the gentleness of their touch made your heart flutter, and they watched you, smiling at the happiness brimming in their flushed cheeks.
"Does Lord Hades now then?"
Your head shook. "Not yet. I will tell him soon," because you knew your husband would be on the verge of tears and fainting, so you needed to break the news somewhere in the safety of your temples.
And so, on the same evening, as you were returning to your temple after the feast, excitement coiled in your belly. Choso, slightly drunk, with a cherry flush coating his face, wrapped his fingers around yours as you walked back to your main temple.
You would usually stay in the Underworld, where Choso almost daily needed to indulge himself in matters of the dead and death. You didn’t mind living there with him, for you knew how hard your husband tried to make you feel at home.
With the constant darkness of his temple shining with the warm, pinkish candles brought from yours, and walls draped in pearly cushions. The bath was replaced with the jade tub, with dried roses hanging loose from the marble ceiling. Withered flowers wrapped around the grimy columns, and the garden Choso wished to bloom for you was filled with nothing but beautifully parched flowers and the single pomegranate tree.
He tried to make jewellery specially for you, and so while strolling by his side, your eyes slipped down to the bracelets made of black roses.
The nature withered under his touch, yet his heart yearned to show his dearest goddess the utmost love and devotion. And so you soon exchanged the golden earrings for the two pomegranate-shaped ones, and the heavy necklace was replaced with a thin chain ending in a crimson key.
To the gates of Underworld and to my heart, he whispered back then.
As for Choso, he rarely left his domain. You tried to make your temples always feel like a second home to him, yet he simply couldn’t stand the company of all your nymphs, always playing in the waters of the open baths and along the nearby beaches.
He, though, loved the fresh, flowery smell that filled the marble walls and even more enjoyed the fragrance of your skin. Much more intense, sweeter, fogging his mind in the utmost sensual way, till soon after passing the doorstep of your temple, he could only go down to his knees and eat your pussy with a loud cry as you were still standing. With one thigh hooked over his shoulder and fingers pulling his hair, to keep yourself steady.
It’s because you smell so intense, my Goddess, he always mewled, with nose and chin and cheeks wet of your dripping juices.
And so Choso loved to fuck you in your temple. The scent of you was much, much stronger here than in the Underworld, and he took utmost pleasure in letting himself be spiked by your aphrodisiac taste.
This night was no different.
The moment his slightly drunk body stepped through the creamy columns of your domain, he glued himself to you almost at once. His lips met yours in a loving yet desperate kiss, his body already prickling with heat bubbling under the skin as he felt himself grow warmer. And warmer, and warmer, till his fingertips started to tingle from the sizzling heat and a hefty moan slipped into your throat.
"F-Fuck, my Goddess, I’ve been hard this whole time," he muttered, walking you further into the temple until you hit one of the pinkish sofas.
The moonlight spilt through the terrace, and the salt mixed with the sweetness coming from your body. Waves crashed gently against the nearest beach, bouncing off the marble walls, mingling with your giggles.
"Were you, now? Let’s skip the appetiser and go to the main course then," fell slyly, as you spread thighs wide open, inviting his massive body in.
Muscular back, almost fully shielding you from the moonlight’s curious gaze, hips already glued to yours. Soft thighs wrapped around him, drawing him closer until the clothed bulge brushed against your dripping cunt.
"I’m not wearing any panties, my God," you whispered into Choso’s ear, gently biting his earlobe.
Chestnut eyes met yours, and lips curled into a soft smile. "I don’t remember the last time you wore them, my Goddess."
Laughter bubbled in your throat, and he smiled too, peppering your chin, cheeks, lips with soft kisses, until finally slipping down your body. With nose brushing the crook of your neck, teeth grazing hard nipples, fully visible through the misty robes and going down to the softness of your belly.
You moaned, spreading your thighs even wider, already wet and desperate to feel his lips curving around the swollen clit.
"If you hadn’t stolen all of them, maybe I’d still have something to wear," fell with a cheeky giggle, and Choso looked up from between your thighs, already maddened by fever.
"It’s b-because your pussy always smells so good, my love," he muttered shyly, following your slowly rising body.
Breasts finally slipped from beneath the robes, offering him a delicious view of your honeyed aureolas glistening with his saliva.
"It’s because you are a pervert, my dear husband," your head tilted as you brushed raven locks from his forehead and leaned on your elbows.
His face was millimetres from your drenched cunt, and the sheer honeyed fragrance coming from your folds made Choso’s head spin. You noticed the wave of his hips brushing against the sofa and possessed eyes looking up at you with utmost devotion.
"How about we start with the dessert then?"
His wet tongue took a hefty lick of your slick. Nose deep between the folds, forehead creased, and eyes fixed on your face twisted in pleasure.
"Cho–ah!" you cried, rolling your hips against his plastered tongue.
The muscle burned the folds of your pussy, slurping, drinking, swindling with the swollen clit. Lips curled around the little bud, sucking on it gently till another moan spilt from your throat. Your breasts bounced with each roll of yours, and Choso’s fingers slipped up to squeeze the fat of your tit.
He moaned as if he were the one receiving constant pleasure, and slurped the creamy essence dripping from his chin. Droplets of cum fell onto the sofa, and he quickly licked the soft cushion clean, as if afraid to waste any of the sweet ambrosia.
Something in your belly bubbled as you watched his creased forehead and sticking-out tongue, sipping your juices as they pooled under your hips. With lips trying to suck out every drop of your cum soaking into the sofa, till you needed to push him back with a foot.
"Your pussy is somewhere else, my dear husband," you sighed, as his fingers rolled the sensitive nipple. "Don’t act like a dog and stop licking the sofa or chewing on my panties." With a gentle wave, you moved your cunt closer to his lips. "You have a real thing right in front of you."
But Choso was already gone, and despite your feet pressed against his cheek, he couldn’t resist kissing your ankle and calf before slipping back down to the warmth that made his face flush, allowing himself to nuzzle into the wetness of your pussy.
"So sweet, fuck, a-always so fucking sweet," he moaned, feeling your sticky cum drip down his throat. Coat the tongue in sheer, shiny glaze till each bud remembered the exact taste of your cunt. "Push out a bit more, p-please. Give me–ahhh–give me a bit more baby, let me get drunk on your cum."
Your belly tensed, walls squeezed around his tongue, till more of the milky, sticky cum dripped into his feasting mouth. When one finger slipped in, your head fell back, and your thighs squeezed around his head. But his lips started to trace up, and up, through the mould of your cunt, soft belly, up to naked breasts.
It seemed that Choso didn’t notice the change in your body, sucking on an overly sensitive bud with a melting satisfaction washing over your spine. The pain mixed with pleasure, as his teeth grazed the bud and finger curled inside your weeping pussy.
"Cho, be gentler, I’m a bit sensitive," you mewled, brushing the dark locks sticking to his flushed cheeks.
His eyes lifted up to meet yours. "Why? Did something happen?"
You bit your lower lip, with the answer already on the tip of your tongue. However, another sound escaped as Choso’s moan reached the rim of your nipples. He stimulated you from every angle possible – lips around the swollen bud, one hand's fingers playing with the other, while his other hand pumped your pussy with, now, two fingers.
"Actually–ahhh," your finger brushed his hair, pulling him away from your breasts. Long string of saliva connected his pussydrunk face with your hardened bud, chestnut irises mingling in the shapes of two hearts. "I wanted to say that–"
But before the secret could be finally spilt, something, someone, destroyed this precious moment.
"Lord Hades, Lady Aphrodite, I’m s-sorry for the disturbance, but…"
A shaking voice filled your temple, and within a second, Choso sobered up and covered your naked body with his. The dark, heavy robes blanketed you up to your neck, his muscular chest pressed against yours, as he turned towards the child standing at the entrance to your temple.
You didn’t mind being seen naked, as many believers sculpted statues of your body draped only in soaked robes. Most male deities on Olympus had been captivated by the soft touch of your thighs, and your daily attire revealed almost everything, leaving little to the imagination.
Yet, your always-so-calm husband hated sharing what was his. The very idea of someone else worshipping you as he did made him furious.
And so with a slightly tightened jaw and eyes beaming with a deathly gaze, a harsh, "What?" fell past his lips.
You giggled at seeing him all agitated, with a single vein pulsing on his handsome forehead.
But the nymph who stood mere metres from you, unfortunately, couldn’t share the happiness. She fiddled with the hem of her robe, eyes avoiding the God of the Dead's heavy gaze. So you lifted yourself up, peeking over the sofa’s back with dishevelled hair and a trace of Choso’s saliva coating your lips.
"What is it, sweetie?"
"My Goddess, my God, something horrible happened!" She cried, looking back and forth between you and Choso with rising panic. "Cerberus had been kidnapped!"
That day marked the start of an unsettling nemesis that appeared to trouble your days. While Choso swiftly returned to the Underworld, you remained on the mountain to gather more information about the sudden tragedy.
And when he came back an hour later, tears streaming down his cheeks, you knew that Cerberus had indeed disappeared. Your heart swelled with pain as your husband’s crushed face nuzzled into the softness of your breast. He wept for half the night, letting your gentle touch coil his shattered nerves.
You knew how much Choso loved his dearest dog, having raised him since Cerberus was only a few months old. With all three heads a bit too heavy for the small body, he lay on Choso’s laps day and night, purring under his gentle petting.
The only friend, family, accompanying him through the last few years, long before you joined his side.
And so you spent days trying to find the culprit, until all the signs led you to a silly little nymph living far down in the depths of Mount Olympus. The poor birdie who foolishly challenged Zeus’s demigod son and pulled all the deities into her mess.
It seemed that the kidnapping of Cerberus was one of the quests given to the relentless man who was ready to challenge the Lord of the Underworld himself to win the heart of his most dearest nymph.
To challenge you, known to be oh, much worse than the God of the Dead himself. His ferocious wife, ready to turn the world upside down at the sight of her husband’s heartbreaking tears. Tears that were not caused by her!
Something pulled at your heart when you saw the sad face of the poor nymph. Her body kneeling before you, lower lip trembling, as she mumbled apologies in a messy stream of thoughts.
And because Cerberus returned safely after a few days, you could only sigh and give the child a gentle scolding.
Life regained its peace, and your husband’s gentle tears no longer dampened your skin each night. Instead, you smiled as he nestled into Cerberus’s soft fur, hugging the beast with almost tearful apologies. They looked like a father and son, with three large heads attempting to embrace Choso’s chest as your husband gently scratched each of them.
To guarantee Cerberus's eternal safety, Choso enlisted a small, wandering ghost as his companion. You both knew Yuji well, as he often visited your temple to gaze up at the most beautiful goddess and softly touch her misty robes. The child of no parents or relatives, buried with a coin by his only mortal friend and sent to the clutches of the Underworld far too early.
Choso felt a sort of brotherly warmth towards him, and thus he allowed the poor, agitated soul to lurk in Cerberus’s cave whenever the child felt bored. That’s why you both decided to keep Yuji by your side and let him take care of your family beast while you or Choso were outside the domain.
And when you thought that another chance to break the news would soon come… someone else did instead.
Someone you should eliminate the first time you hear of her attempt to coax your husband into marriage. A viper, a sweet birdie getting on your nerves more than anyone else, the small goddess whose disappearance would not influence the world at all.
And so one afternoon, while napping peacefully in your temple, with the ocean’s breeze caressing your sun-kissed cheeks, a shadow suddenly fell over your naked body, dipped in a pool.
Your eyes opened to your husband’s furrowed face and a grimace that could only mean one thing – he knew.
"I don’t need a reprimand," you murmured, closing your eyes again. "She deserved it."
Choso sighed, squatting right next to you. Pale fingers brushed away locks of your hair, eyes never straying from your slyly curved lips. "I don’t see why Persephone deserved to be turned into stone by Medusa."
You giggled, remembering your wicked chit-chat with a gorgon friend. "She annoyed me and tried to force her way into the Underworld, so I gave her a lesson."
Choso hummed as he sat by the pool. His long legs dipped into the crystal-clear water, and you found yourself between them. Fingers dug into his muscular thighs, your cheek pressed sweetly against his big hand. His thumb brushed your lower lip, and you gave it a gentle kiss, feeling a shudder run through his spine.
"What did she do to make you angry, my Goddess?"
Your lips curled around his finger, sucking it gently as a sheen coated his skin. Fingers squeezed his thighs, then parted them a little further, and further, giving you a better view of a small, wet patch glistening on his robes.
You whispered, "She wanted to take what’s mine," as you began rolling up his tunic. Revealing his pale thighs, strong hips, and a thick, trembling shaft pressed to his abdomen. Pearls of cum already coated the long cock, and a cheeky smile played on your lips as you saw Choso’s flushed face. "My most beloved husband."
A shuddered breath escaped his throat when your lovely face leaned closer towards his fatness. Plush lips slightly parted, as you wetted them with a tongue. As if ready to devour him whole.
"But s-she knows we’re m-maried," he barely choked out, already feeling the sweetness of your body curling around his senses. "Why would she–"
You giggled, giving his pulsing, red head a fist, kitty lick. His fingers grabbed the pool’s edge, hips slightly rolling closer to the warmth of your mouth.
"She’s been in love with you a long, long time, my God. Unfortunately, I snatched you quickly enough from her drilling clutches." Your soft fingers grabbed his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. Hot, sweet breath hit his leaking tip, and he jolted once again. "So she descended today to the Underworld with a wishful thinking of meeting with you." Warm tongue licked his fat shaft from the base up to the head, leaving a drenched trail burning through his skin. "But instead, she met with me."
Choso cried when your lips finally curled around his mushroom tip. Sucking gently on the pearly droplets of cum, before pressing the head to the softness of your cheek.
His fingers gently brushed through your hair, allowing him to get a better view of your plumped cheeks and eyes mingling like two hearts. The beautiful curve of your brows bent into a sultry gaze, as you took him a bit deeper. The saliva dripped down his shaft, and his lips fell open, seeing your attempt to take his cock fully down your throat.
As you pulled away with a heavy breath, a long strand of crystal-clear saliva stretched from your swollen lips to his burning tip. Choso almost lost his mind.
Your fingers pumped his cock in fast yet gentle strokes, cheeks pressing wetly to the side of the burning shaft. You licked one of the bulging veins, and he needed to do everything in his might not to pull you out from this pool and fuck raw on the marble stones of your temple.
"My Goddess, y-you could just cast her out," he cried, rocking his hips to bring himself closer to the wetness of your mouth. "You’re the Queen of the Underworld. Why won’t you–"
"I started the Trojan War just for the pure amusement, my God." A foxy smile tugged at your lips. "Why cast her out if I play with her for a while? At least all the other deities will remember who you belong to."
His chestnut eyes went glassy as warmth bubbled in his abdomen. Another moan slipped past his lips as you took him back in, rolling the globular tip with soft strokes of your tongue.
"My Goddess, you truly are s-such an evil w-woman."
Your minx eyes clashed with his teary gaze, fingers digging painfully into his thighs. His hips began to roll faster and faster, chasing the pleasure tingling his spine, though Lord Hades truly needed only a single glance from you to cum, his back arching into a delicious bend.
The warm, salty liquid spilt deeply into your throat, while Choso’s soft moan echoed off the crystalline pool’s water. His fingers gently pressed into your hair, guiding you further down his shaft until the drenched head reached the back of your throat. The milky droplets slid down your tongue, leaving a glossy, salty sheen on your cheeks.
You pulled back, only to be immediately drawn back towards his lips. The kiss felt needy, almost desperate, yet left a loving aftertaste on your skin.
You smiled before whispering, "Isn’t it why you love me, my God?" right into his lips.
Finally lifting yourself out of the pool, you straddled his hips. The dark robes slipped completely off his body, letting you press both palms to his naked, muscular chest.
Wet, throbbing pussy was right above his slowly hardening cock, and Choso could already feel heat dripping down his shaft.
He nodded as you brushed away a single tear running down his cheek. With a flush rising to his face, he shyly admitted, "It is."
Because the truth was that nothing made Choso lose his mind more than the devilish side of yours. This cheekiness that always bloomed on your cheeks, a cruel gaze snapping towards your foe, a mind plagued by the most trickster punishments one could imagine, just to give your pampered self a bit more fun.
And as embarrassing and unkind as it was to admit, upon hearing the tragic news of Persephone’s punishment, Choso felt a heat bubbling in his belly. This pride was ripping his heart, cherry flush climbing up his neck at the sheer thought of his most beloved wife being such a cruel minx.
His heart-shaped eyes took in the beauty of your face, fingers gripping the plush of your hips. "You’re always full of surprises, my Goddess–mhmm," he moaned, feeling your pussy roll against his cock.
Fluttering hole catching on his flushed tip, the honeyed juices already dripping down his shaft, drenching it in the sticky glaze. You bit down on a lower lip, already imagining his monstrous size moulding your cunt with a sweet, ripping pleasure.
Your head tilted, as the it’s time thought slipped into your mind.
You’ve been waiting far too long, and the excitement mixed with anticipation already bubbled within your heart.
"I have one more surprise for you, my God," you whispered, finally feeling his reddened tip push into the warmth of your pussy. "But promise me not to faint when you hear it."
Choso’s doe eyes bulged, brows slightly furrowed as he felt the tight grip of your walls. The pulsing heat wrapping around his ready-to-burst cock, as you sank yourself lower, and lower, with wet hips held by his big palms, and perked nipples plastered to his chest.
"I promise," he mumbled, giving your exposed neck a sweet lick. "Tell me, my Goddess. What surprise do you have for your dearest husband?"
You moaned, feeling the tip's curve brush against your swollen G-spot. "You always wanted a big family, right, Cho?" he hummed, nuzzling the spot beneath your chin. "Well, it looks like the first little god is already on its way."
And then… he pulled back.
Suddenly, with a breath knocked out of his lungs and fingers gripping your hips a bit tighter.
His eyes fixed on the loveliness of your face, the divine halo clinging to you in beaming gold. The heat radiating from your body melted him at your touch, and the walls pulsing around his shaft only deepened the sudden dizziness that plagued his mind.
"My God," you giggled, seeing the mix of maddening pleasure and concern twisting his face. "Are you ok– mmm!"
Before you could even finish, a warm sensation spilt deep inside your womb. A creamy essence clung to your insides, coating the walls with heavy, thick ropes of cum. Until your lower belly bulged under his feverish tip, leaving you feeling stuffed and full.
"My God, did you just cum?" A giggle rippled past your lips, followed by the soft oh.
Choso’s lips clashed with yours, muscular arms swiftly changed your positions, till you softly hit the marble floor.
"F-Fuck, my Goddess," he moaned, kissing you nastily, messily, with tears dripping down his cheeks. Cock still buried deep inside you, but hard and ready to stuff you with another wave of cum. "We’re going to have a child? A baby? Fuck, y-you’re going to be a mommy?"
And with a soft nod of your head, Choso completely snapped.
His palms hooked you under your thighs, pushing into a mating press. Gentle enough not to squeeze your belly, yet deep to allow him to give you a sharp, hearty push. With a fat shaft sliding inside the clamping walls of your pussy and a pitched moan slipping past your lips.
"My mommy, fuck–mmm–my sweet, beautiful m-mommy," he mumbled, peppering your cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses, wetting your skin with tears of joy. "I’m so happy, m-my Goddess. I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby."
The brutal thrusts of his hips didn’t match the softness spilling from his lips, and so you could do nothing but push out another sob. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and closer, till his nipples brushed against yours, and hips stayed buried deep within the sweetness of your walls.
One of his fingers slipped down to press against your swollen clit and roll it gently, ripping another moan from your throat.
"My Goddess, I’ll be so good to you, mhmmm, I’ll take care of you both," he whispered, nuzzling into your neck. "I can’t wait to see you all plump and round, to d-drink your milk–ahh, it’s going to be so sweet."
"Cho, mhmm, you’re such a pretty crier, baby," a mewl spilt from your parted lips, droplets of silver already dripping down your chin. He quickly pulled up, licking the skin clean. "Are you that happy to be a daddy?"
He continued to pump you hard, with hips hitting yours in a nasty squelching and a pulsing cock pushing the warm cum back into your cunt. Cramming the smoothing liquid into your womb, although you were already stuffed heavy and full.
A faint yes yes yes, s-so happy, slipped past his lips, with his fingers rolling the swollen clit even harsher. Your back bent in a delicious arch, eyes crossed upon feeling the familiar warmth already bubbling in your lower belly.
The pleasure washing over your spine was maddening, far more intense than before, and you began to wonder how pleasurable sex would be in the months ahead of pregnancy. With your round belly fully obscuring the view of your tight cunt and breasts overflowing with milk.
And it seemed that Choso wondered too, as his lips curled around one of your perked nipples, sucking it with a miserable mew.
"Cho, I’m, fuck, I’m going to cum," you moaned, tugging on his hair. "Baby, fuck fuck fuck, come on, make your mommy cum."
And as Choso was far too weak for your pleadings, with a last intense flicker of your clit and a crying send tremble down your sensitive breasts, finally stilled.
The throbbing tip pressed against your womb, pumping it with another wave of creaminess. Your moan echoed off the marble columns of the temple before you finally squirted all over his fingers and abdomen, splashing the sweetest nectar onto the floor until you had to stop Choso from pulling away and licking it up.
Your gazes met, his eyes still slightly wet, taking in the bewitching loveliness of your face. His heart swelled with affection, deep love and devotion spilling past the walls of his heated muscle. You could feel it beating against your chest, sending tremors down your spine, and so you lifted your fingers, brushing his cheek gently.
"Surprise, my God," you muttered, pulling him into a soft kiss. "Shall we think of some names, hm?"
His warm cum spilt from your pussy, pooling beneath the hips. With short thrusts, he pushed it deeper, till a soft crease appeared between your brows.
He nuzzled into your hand, as another wave of tears filled his reddened eyes. You giggled, brushing them away. "My crybaby of a husband, I’m glad you at least didn’t faint."
"I almost did, but your pussy was too warm," he mumbled, pushing a snort from your throat. "I want to name her Harmonia."
Your head tilted. "Her? Harmonia?"
"Mhm," Choso nodded, then lowered himself to lie on your breasts. "I know it’s going to be a girl. The most beautiful in the world," he muttered, then lifted his eyes to meet your squinted gaze. "Without counting her mum, of course."
You hummed, brushing the hair sticking to his damp forehead. "And what about the boy?"
Choso thought for a moment, settling himself on your plush breasts. "Eros." You snorted again, and this time his chestnut eyes narrowed in offence. "Why? I think it would suit a future God of Love."
"The God of Love? Oh my, husband, you’re already thinking too far ahead."
But Choso shook his head, wrapping his arms around you tighter. Sniffing the sweet fragrance of your body, enjoying the sun kissing his pale, naked back. Calm settled over his mind, and as his eyes closed, a little sigh slipped past your lips at the peacefulness of your husband’s handsome forehead.
The most beautiful God in the whole pantheon.
"My Goddess, the child born from our affection could only become a divine being of love. But who they are doesn’t really matter…" he murmured, his cheek pressed gently against your breasts as his voice grew sleepy. The birds chirped in the trees above, while the salty air from the nearby ocean tingled his senses. "As long as they carry your eyes."
And so, with a sweet tune of your voice and fingers brushing through his hair, Lord Hades slipped into a deep slumber.
With ear plastered to your body, already awaiting the melody of not one, but two of his hearts.
Two years of dating, three years of marriage. You, Suguru and Satoru – a match made in heaven, most people could be jealous of. You loved each other so deeply that it almost hurt. Although... sometimes their love felt a little too tight. A little too consuming. But that's what true devotion looked like, right? You’re still wondering, while packing the suitcases with tears running down your cheeks.
masterlist
pairing: Satosugu x Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, marriage, husband Geto Suguru x reader, husband Gojo Satoru x reader, Satosugu, yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, dark romance, pregnancy, kinda babytrapping, anything but healthy relationship, HEAVY smut, HEAVY breeding kink, if I put this tag it'll be a spoiler, manipulation, guilt-tripping, age gap, violence
WC: 4.4k
art by kkatsujii
──── Chapter Four
On your year anniversary, they proposed.
Or at least, that's how they called it.
As in truth, after a few days of enjoying the sizzling Okinawa's sun and sweating sex on the private beach, one morning the ring suddenly appeared on your finger. With a thin, delicate band and a big diamond, shining in the rays spilling through your beach house's windows.
You woke with one heavy body plastered to your back and the other cuddled into your front, with something soft and fluffy nestled between your breasts. Looking down with still slightly sleepy eyes, you saw Satoru's milky face, enjoying a deep slumber right between your breasts.
A low chuckle slipped past your lips as you gently brushed his hair and looked over your shoulder. To Suguru, whose long raven locks tickled your back and warm breath hit your neck.
Waves rolled behind the window over the golden sand, the wind moved the flimsy curtains barely protecting your tangled bodies from sun kisses and something… something glimmered.
You noticed it after lifting a hand to shield Satoru's face from the sun. An elegant band encircled your finger, with a shiny diamond catching the golden rays.
You shifted between their bodies, a soft gasp slipping past your lips. Something began to bloom beneath your chest. A feeling of the most maddening love, devotion, and… a sudden, uncontrollable fear. Doubt?
Your fingers tingled, a band wrapped around one of them, burning the skin down to the bones, and an eerie thought slipped into your mind. To maybe take it–
"Do you like it?" a low, sleepy voice filled the bedroom, and soon after, warm lips placed a soft kiss on your naked shoulder. "It looks perfect."
You nodded and bit your lower lip. "It is, Sugu," you said, looking at the shoulder, your gaze met gentle, lavender eyes. "Did I miss something while sleeping? I don't remember any kneeling or questions, and certainly– ah!"
A soft moan wrapped your heart when you felt something bite your nipples.
Or rather, someone. With crystal eyes and a cheeky smile, looking up from between your breasts. Satoru's big hand grabbed your tit, squishing it softly between his fingers.
"Satoru!" Another soft cry slipped away when he sucked on your hardened bud.
The wetness of his tongue soothed the previous bite before he took the plush fat fully into his mouth.
Something poked your belly, something else your back, making your mind all soft and fuzzy, with droplets of fresh sweat already coiling on your neck.
"Would you refuse us, darling?" Suguru's low voice tickled your ear as fingers wrapped around your neck. A soft squeeze made your spine tingle and your hips arch in a gentle curve, as if seeking a hardness that spilt precum all over your lower back. "Hm? Would you say no if we asked if you wanted to marry us?"
At first, you didn't say anything. His fingers tightened around your neck. Burning your skin with a slight perilousness – something fiery, spreading an air of authority and control. Waiting for your decision, although all three of you knew there was none to make.
And thus you nodded, feeling the barely visible tension leave their bodies. Suguru's fingers brushed your neck, slipping up to chin, before turning your head back. To meet the depth of his almond-shaped eyes, fixed on your face with the last traces of dominant temper that clung to Suguru like a second skin.
"Say it, darling," he murmured, squishing your cheeks. "Say that you want to marry us."
Satoru pulled himself closer, sticking himself to your naked body. The wetness started to pool between your thighs, as his fingers slipped down and down, in slow moves, as if trying to feel the goosebumps coating your skin.
A sly smile curved his lips, as he bit the swell of your breasts. "Sweetheart, don't leave us waiting. You know how nasty Suguru can be when he gets angry."
He tried to joke, but oh… you knew.
And so that's why you nodded again, and again, pulling Suguru into a wet kiss, and allowing him to devour you completely. With a finger digging into your jaw and a muscular arm locking around your waist.
"Of course I w-want to," slipped in a moan, when Satoru's fingers brushed your clit. "I-mmm-want to, w-want to, fuck, I l-love you so much."
Suguru smiled into your lips, Satoru chuckled.
But maybe it was exactly right then.
After your engagement, when things started to get nasty.
A bit more controlling,
You began staying home more often, their constant presence lingering in your thoughts. Shadows always blend with yours, as if to make sure you wouldn't suddenly vanish.
They wished to marry you right away, but the graduation was just around the corner, and so you truly wanted to get that diploma. Leave university life behind you and finally enter the adult life that seems stable.
And loving, kind, with your two fiancées pampering you sweetly, always brimming with love, warmth, and… well. And everything else too.
Especially on late nights, when your cunt was crying from the brutal stretch of their cocks and tears dripped down your puffy cheeks. Trembling fingers curled around Suguru's raven hair, Satoru's big palms pulled you onto his cock with maddeningly brutal thrusts, spilling the warm fluid straight into your womb.
Their touch soon became much more possessive, rough, and yet also gentle. Finger marking the swell of your belly, lips curling around the nipples with a crying moan, cum spilling from your pussy in waves, as they tried to push it back inside.
Sometimes they were out of control, digging a deep crease in the walls with a hit of the bed's frame, until you needed to stop them with miserable begging, feeling the pleasure rippling through your body. Your ears rang, your vision blurred as Satoru kissed away the tears coating your cheeks, and Suguru whispered dirty little nothing into the burning petals of your ears.
"Come on, darling, don't be shy," he murmured, keeping you in a tight mating press on his chest. Satoru hung over your bodies, with lips capturing yours into a messy kiss. "Be a good girl and cum for us, hm? Make us baby daddies. Fuck, you're going to look so fucking beautiful all round with our child."
Mewling and babbling, you could do nothing but nod and allow them to pound on your cunt with a delicious painfulness. Till your belly bulged with their cocks, pumping your swollen womb with another wave of warm cum.
"Shhh, it's fine sweetheart," Satoru whispered, rubbing your tired, overly sensitive clit. "Come on, just give us another one. Our good, good wife, aren't you? Such a beauty, makes us wanna lock you up and never leave this bedroom," he giggled, following the frown pulling your brows.
You didn't say anything. Because there was simply no need, since you already didn't mind them treating you like their wife.
In fact, it made you all bubbly and soft, with your body melting into theirs and your heart beating completely and restlessly under their command.
You ignored the lines of threat that sometimes beamed off their voices. The sentences that made your spine drip with shivers. A tone, a bit too controlling, slightly eerie, but quickly washed away by Satoru's laughter.
That's who they were, you kept reminding yourself. Slightly dominant, a bit too controlling, but yours. With hearts, souls, and minds fully devoted to cherishing the love that bloomed between the three of you, even if loving them was sometimes much, much harder than it should be.
Or maybe that's how it should look?
On nights when you could hardly move, with all your holes leaking their cum and folds swollen from constant rubbing.
Lying on Satoru's chest, you breathed heavily as Suguru gently wiped your thighs with a damp towel.
"You're stuffed full, darling," he muttered, brushing your swollen clit. You giggled, kicking him away with your feet. "I wouldn't be surprised if it took."
"Mmm," a soft hum slipped past your lips as Satoru's fingers began to rub your temple. "We're not married yet, and you already want a baby?"
Suguru chuckled, pushing a sipping cum back into your pussy, with a smooth clench a little, darling.
"We'll be married in a month, so what's the difference?" Satoru murmured, looking down at your peaceful forehead. "Your belly wouldn't show in the dress if that's what you're worried about."
"Hm, I guess. If it takes, then it takes," you said, cuddling closer into Satoru's warm chest. "We have all the time in the world, no?"
Well, no.
You had all the time in the world – still in your early twenties, barely a graduate and still fresh to the whole "adult life". Although they made it quite clear that you would not work or do anything that required you to do anything aside from enjoying yourself and taking pleasure in what they offered.
But they… really wanted a child.
And you knew it from the very beginning, even though the reality of how desperate they were felt overwhelming. Already in their thirties, they found the idea of having children natural. At least, much, much more than for you, who still harboured a shy wish simply to live. Away from marriage, away from anything that could tie you down.
But at the same time, whenever Suguru's protective arms curled around you and Satoru's laugh tingled your heart – you wanted to stay. To play the role of a loving, dutiful wife and be spoiled like a lovely little nymph.
But then, while lying on Satoru's chest and humming sweetly under his soft fingers, your fiancées didn't need to know that you simply couldn't get pregnant. Because a month ago, and exactly two before the wedding, you switched from pills to an IUD.
As it was more comfortable, safer… secretive.
Two months ago, on a random evening, your pills simply vanished. They just weren't there, in the purse where you always kept them.
A soft hum slipped past your lips as you started looking all over the bag for this little plastic box. But it just wasn't there.
Or in the bathroom cabinet, the bedside drawer, kitchen shelf – nowhere.
While still looking for a little box between the bag of flour and the spices, a heavy, nervous sigh rolled of your lips.
"Have you seen my pills?" you asked, looking over your shoulder at Suguru. He stood at the counter, humming a tune under his breath and slicing the raw meat for your dinner. "I can't find them anywhere."
Not looking your way, not even shrugging, he slipped in, "Oh, I threw them away," and went back to cooking.
He said it so casually, almost as if it were natural, that all you could do was crack a smile and shake your head. Your gaze shifted to Satoru, sitting on the couch, watching TV without bothering to answer your question.
Shooting Suguru last, playful look, you went towards Satoru, curling your arms around him from behind the couch. He giggled, pressing his cheek to meet your sweet, wet kiss.
"Satoru, where did you hide them?" A pout twisted your lips, eyes crossed with the endless, gentle blue.
He looked at you with so much love, devotion, and utmost tenderness that smooched your fluttering heart with the loveliness of his kisses, as he–
"Sweetheart, Suguru just told you," he said with a soft smile, brushing your cheek with a thumb. "He threw them away."
You stood there, bent over the couch, with arms still curled around his neck. White locks tickled your lips as they fell apart.
Something in your ears began to ring so sharply that you wondered whether their statement had made you deaf. It must have, because your mind couldn't quite grasp the reasoning behind what they said.
Slowly pulling away from Satoru, you still cracked a laugh, but this time it was laced with a slight concern.
"That's not funny," you shrugged, looking between your two fiancées. "What do you mean, you threw them away?"
Your words bounced off the walls without an echo. Satoru was still sprawled on the sofa, while Suguru cut large pieces of meat with unwavering calm. With raven hair pinned in a low bun and lavender eyes not even bestowing you a glance.
They didn't blink, didn't even move, as if the words that had just passed between the three of you were normal. As if both of them had already approved this decision without telling you.
"Sure, it isn't funny," Suguru said, sliding the potatoes into the oven and wiping his hands on the apron you bought him last year. And then finally met your eyes. "You can’t get pregnant on a pill. We're getting married in two months, so why not just start trying now?"
Oh, must have been joking.
"But why didn't you discuss it with me?" came almost tearfully, as you tried to suppress the rage that was coiling beneath your chest.
Your fists clenched, forehead furrowed, and eyes locked onto Suguru's intense, relentless, and commanding gaze.
Standing there, you were completely stunned, struggling to process his words. You couldn’t accept it – the fact that they had taken all your pills and thrown them away without any prior discussion. Not seeing their actions as deeply messed up and wrong made you want to scream, to fight back fiercely, expecting any reaction other than this innocent yet dark smile, which made you feel anxious.
"Why would we? I thought it was for our own good," he said, casually snacking on a red pepper. "It's not like you would say no, is it?"
Your mind raced with disbelief and confusion. Panic spread across your chest. Tears were dangerously close to spilling over the boiling point, and you needed to dig your nails into your palms so they wouldn't fall.
"Are you kidding me?"
But none of them answered, leaving a silence so heavy it wrapped around your neck in a strangling hug.
"How could you…" forming a sentence felt almost impossible.
The thoughts clashed against one another. The thoughts clashed against one another. Shoko's tears when you broke the news of your engagement to her suddenly came back to you. Her begging not to marry them. To sell the ring and leave the city, maybe the country, do anything to leave their psychotic clutches that were slowly taking you away from her.
You haven't talked to her then.
How long has it been… hm. Six months?
Blood boiled in your veins, painting your vision red. Your head hit with a sudden, explosive force, making your teeth grind.
"Are you both insane?" shut up, shut up, shut up. "Why do you mean you threw them away? Are you sick?" oh god, stop, stop, stop, that's enough, don't make Suguru angry, don't–
"Are you psychos? You make me fucking sick!"
The temperature in the room dropped. Something cold spilt tickled down your spine. Heart began to beat a bit faster, pounding against your shuddering chest, till nothing but its terrified pounding filled the place.
It seemed your mind still couldn't grasp the words that had just fallen from your lips. The tone you used. Rage bubbling in your throat, forcing you to spill your thoughts a bit too fast. Too reckless.
With your gaze fixed on the wooden floor you cherished so dearly, a shuddering breath escaped your lips. Then, in the heavy silence that settled among the three of you, it became clear that some words are better left unsaid.
You felt Suguru's eyes on your trembling body.
Heard a muted TV. In the corner of your eye, noticed Satoru looking over his shoulder. With lips still curved in a gentle smile, but eyes filled almost numb. Not angry, just… so strange.
Your throat bobbed, fists slowly loosened up.
And when you looked up, a faint oh slipped past your lips. As Suguru, your Suguru, the man who could make you cry with pleasure and let cuddle into his chest like a baby, looked at you with… nothing. In the most terrifying sense of the word, as if the rage boiling inside him was desensitising his feelings. Changing the lavender warmth into the most washed-out, dead shade of purple.
You crossed the line.
It wasn't the first time, sure, as your temperament often clashed with Suguru's need to control every single one of your choices, but… this time you really did it.
Broke every single rule that he made up in that slightly twisted mind.
Suguru set down a knife, the soft clink on the wooden board far too loud in the heavy silence of the room. You shrugged, gaze quickly slipping to Satoru.
But this time, he couldn't help you. With the playfulness that somehow made Suguru calm his temper and let you do whatever he initially disagreed with. Whether it's going out with friends or choosing fast food over his homemade dinner.
This time, his plush lips curved into a soft, barely visible smile, and his eyes shimmered with pity. Rage? Irritation?
Maybe even shame? Shame that whatever Suguru did, he wouldn't be able to help you.
Not this time.
Suguru wiped his hands with a towel, stalking slowly towards you. Each step felt so heavy it seemed the ground trembled beneath you – or maybe it was just your own body.
He was merely a few metres away, and yet the time stretched into years. Ages, centuries, as your widened eyes only after a second noticed that his one hand was still gripping the knife. The rest of the raw meat still glistened on the sharpened steel, as it glimmered under the golden light of the living room.
You took a cautious step back. And back, back, back, before finally hitting the wall.
And he stood right in front of you, with utmost peace haunting his handsome forehead and withered eyes looking down at you. The height difference had never felt as terrifying as it did then. The heavy scent of his cologne suffocated your mind, and heat radiated from his body.
"I think," he started, lifting his hand to brush your cheek. With a big thumb, slashing through the boiling warmth of your skin. "I misheard you, darling. Could you please repeat?"
But how could you, if breathing alone was already difficult enough?
You could barely look at him, bear the heaviness of his fingers on your skin, the closeness of his body, growing closer and closer.
"I–"
And it dawned upon you that you were utterly alone.
Entirely surrounded by wolves within a house that offered no refuge, at their mercy, whether you wished it or not. Men who loved you with a fierce intensity, capable of shattering bones.
Yet it was the first time you truly saw their possessive, primal nature as something dangerous. Until then, you had seen it as rather amusing, maybe even endearing. This obsessive devotion, the relentless protectiveness of their dearest girl. As something overwhelming, yet, in their way, formed for your own good.
You accepted it with love and kindness, allowing whatever was going on in their heads to live its own life.
And maybe that was the problem.
Because then, standing before Suguru, eyes flicking between his stony face and fingers gripped around a knife – a sudden, unusual thought slipped into your mind. That maybe, just slightly, you might've regretted it.
That you took it too lightly and ignored all the possible signs.
What were your chances of winning against them? You had never really thought about it before, given how pampered you were – so well cared for, loved fiercely, making your friends jealous! After all, who wouldn’t want their boyfriends to be completely crazy about you?
Yo–
"You need to speak a little louder, darling," he repeated, sending shivers down your spine.
His fists clenched, bare forearms taut with tension, as if struggling to restrain something. Something violent.
Oh, would he hit you?
No, you thought. That was impossible. He would never.
He was just a man deciding whether he needed to remind you of your place.
"I…" you started again, feeling his fingers lift your chin. With a slight pinch, the squeeze that told you that winning against him in a purely power-based sense would be impossible.
But Satoru… if anything happened, Satoru would help you. Would he?
"I'm listening."
Oh, it was so, so humiliating.
"I s-said that you shouldn’t d–"
"No, darling," he laughed deeply, and you needed to hold your breath. "That's not what you said. Start from the words are you insane?"
But how could you say it again, with the icy blue eyes of your other fiancé piercing right through you? Oh, you shouldn’t have said it. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.
"Suguru…" a soft plea slipped away.
His head tilted, almond-shaped eyes squinted. "Are we making you feel sick?"
And then, finally, a cry rolled off your lips. Making your whole body shake and tremble, with crystal droplets dripping down, straight onto his fingers still pinching your chin.
"Sugu, I–"
"You're such a pretty crier, darling," he whispered, brushing away the saline liquid. "But you didn't answer my question."
Your head shook. And shook, and shook, and shook, till tears began to drip onto the wooden floor, and ugly sobs slashed through the still air.
But Suguru stood with the same indifferent expression. With eyes taking in your face twisted in fear.
"P-Please, don't be like that," you mumbled, trying to nuzzle into his warm palm. When he didn't reject you, a grain of hope began to bloom in your chest. He couldn’t, and you knew that. You were their only weakness, after all. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, truly, I…" Another uncontrollable cry escaped your throat. "I just… got scared."
He cupped the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair so gently it felt threatening.
And then, within a second, the tension fell.
His eyes slipped back into the familiar, lavender warmth, and lips curved in a kind smile.
"There we go," he murmured, kissing your forehead. "Don't make me sad ever again, hm?"
If that was what he called being sad, you never wished to see him truly furious.
Your head nodded so sweetly, he just couldn’t contain a chuckle.
"I think... my period is coming. You know how it is," your lips brushed the softness of his hand as you pressed it closer to your cheek. "I know, you did it for my good–"
"Our good."
You froze.
"Yes, you’re right. Our good," you corrected yourself.
And that was it – the fight had ended. Satoru finally smiled, then turned back to the TV, while Suguru calmly talked about the dinner he was going to prepare for you. You sat on a kitchen stool, listening as he described the nutritional value of everything he had bought. Perfect for building up women's health!
You sat there with a forced smile, nodding along to every word he said, watching how skillfully he wielded the knife through the fresh meat. His heavy-handed technique was so intense that it almost felt like it was pressing against your throat.
Had he ever killed someone?
You shivered, quickly shaking the thought off. Oh, what a strange notion it was! And yet, somehow, in a kind of impossible-to-describe way, it felt natural. The image of his fingers gripping the knife was still fresh in your mind.
"Did you hear me?" Suguru asked, while you felt Satoru’s arms embracing you from behind.
Your gaze lifted, taking in Suguru's calm face. So handsome, peaceful, gentle. Completely different from the monster you saw a few minutes ago.
"Sorry, I didn’t focus," you murmured, Satoru holding you tighter.
His fluffy hair brushed against your chin as he nuzzled into your neck.
"You can’t eat spicy anymore. It’s bad for your body."
But I love spicy food, you almost said.
"You shouldn’t leave the house that often, either," Satoru mumbled, brushing his nose against your neck. "What if you get hurt before the wedding?"
You wanted to explode again. To scream, kick your feet, throw things around, and escape from here, perhaps even... turn back time.
You’re going to get married, for God’s sake, you can’t think of such things!
"It’s only for the time being, darling. Till the wedding and, you know, till you…"
"Get pregnant," you murmured, nodding politely, eyes fixed on the raw meat, obediently tearing under Suguru’s heavy hand.
"Oh, and I don’t think your period is coming," he started again. Satoru held you even tighter. "At least not for the next two weeks, don’t you think? I have your cycle written down in my calendar."
But you remained silent. As what in the world could you possibly say?
After that day, you asked them to take you to the gynaecologist, saying you wanted to plan the pregnancy. You knew they wouldn’t agree otherwise, as they could always tell if something was wrong with your body. Thankfully, this argument made them more than happy to arrange a visit.
And thank God, they agreed to take you to the doctor you had been seeing for years. Not one of those "family" or "friends" doctors you couldn't trust. No, the net of contacts they spread around themselves stretched from doctors and lawyers to the police force and politicians.
To everyone who, three years from then, would be unable to help you.
No, you needed someone who could keep things private, with no ties to your future husbands. So you begged your gynaecologist for an IUD, asking her to keep it secret. You were on the verge of tears in her office, willing to kneel for this damn contraception because you simply couldn’t get pregnant. Not right now, at least.
Despite her reluctance, she did it for you and reassured your fiancées that your body was healthy and capable of conceiving.
That’s why, while lying sprawled on Satoru's chest, you felt calm. Safe, assured, knowing that the simple nods of your head were enough to keep their utmost certainty that getting you pregnant would be that easy.
A month later, you were already married.
Three years after the wedding, Sukuna was helping you run away. With a swollen belly and nothing but hope keeping you alive.
Suguru always knew she loved the softness. The feel of women's skin against hers, the gentle brush of their hair and the loveliness of their eyes. Suguru always knew she would love to have a child. Just... not with her husband. But with his second wife.
.𖥔 ݁ ִֶָ࣪☾. ˖pairing: ꒰ Fem!Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader ꒱
.𖥔 ݁ ִֶָ࣪☾. ˖content/warnings: ꒰ inspired by the true story : set in Oman : Arabian settings : WLW : forced marriage : age gap (reader in early 20s, Suguru in late 20s) : secret relationship : polygamy : lesbian love : fluff : a bit of smut : gentle sex : mentions of pregnancy : forbidden love : tooth-rooting fluff : 2.8k words ꒱
.𖥔 ݁ ִֶָ࣪☾. ˖notes: Because of Pride Month, I wanted to write a story about women who, because of the cultural and religious environment in which they live, need to keep their sexuality secret. This story is inspired by a relationship between two Omani wives of the same man, which I read about in a non-fiction book about the lives of Omani women. I am not Muslim, nor do I live in a Muslim country, but (as you may've noticed) I am interested in Arab countries and have tried my best to keep this story as respectful as possible.
Noor (نور) - light, brightness
art by @/_rinren_ on X
dividers by @strangergraphics
Suguru always knew that she preferred softness.
From the moment her deep, young eyes saw the heavy beard needling the man’s face, the long, curly hair coating her uncle’s back, her father’s calloused palms gripping her wrist, and the muscles bulging under the hard skin of his cousins' shoulders. Everything seemed too rough, almost aggressive, spiking an unpleasant flavour that spilt on her tongue.
Suguru could name the feelings bubbling beneath her chest whenever the boys at her school tried to tug at her long braids. Complimented a purple abaya that matched the depth of her almond-shaped eyes, circled by a fan of thick lashes. When they waited for her after school, under the shadow of a date palm, kicking little stones along the gravelly road. She always passed them by with indifference, and their coffee-coloured eyes followed her with misery.
Feeling irritation, anger, sometimes even disgust.
With two brothers at home, she should be used to this boyish foolishness they also beamed with, yet whenever a classmate taller than she was tried to brush a strand of her hair, she would slap his hand without hesitation.
Suguru knew that treating boys that way was no good. Her mother, her father, and the cousins reminded her of this, yet she simply couldn't force herself to like it. The depth of their voices and the brutal strength that filled their bodies.
She somehow couldn't understand the lovely chirping of her female friends whenever they spotted a boy whose shoulders filled his dishdasha and hair, black as the night, brushed the handsome crease of his forehead. And whenever his eyes spotted her small group of friends, they somehow always, always, would land on her.
With a deep wrinkle on her usually smooth face and eyes alluring like wild lavender, tugging at the young boys' hearts.
"Suguru, I think he wants to talk," her friend would say, while trying to pull herself away from her embrace.
But in such moments, Suguru would usually clasp their fingers more tightly and brush the silky skin of their friend's palm.
Much like in middle school, when everyone's hormones buzzed like crickets on a hot night, Suguru quickly realised how much she cherished the company of women. Their gentle fingers braiding her hair, skin always scented with flowers, eyes filled with sugary sweetness that melted on her tongue, mingling like tiny stars.
She liked whenever they cuddled into her chest, wrapping delicate arms around her waist. She loved when they decorated her skin with soft henna brushes, marking it with bending and curling patterns. She blushed when they cherished deep kohl kissing her waterlines, looking deep, deep, into her lavender eyes.
Suguru was always one of the tallest girls in class, and thus she loved how all her friends treated her like a big sister. Cuddling, tugging, and gripping her body in an always-so-innocent way, unaware that her heart melted whenever their fingers brushed.
Suguru had a few crushes in middle and high school, but she never made a move. She simply couldn't, for she had heard of long sentences and punishments for the love she somehow couldn't weed out of her soul. She knew that each of her friends would need to get a husband, have children and live a blissful life.
What was worse, Suguru knew she would also need to fulfil this tradition, even though she tried to put it off as long as she could.
After high school came university, and after university, a well-paid job; she didn't plan to resign solely for the sake of marriage. Born into a wealthy and rather understanding family, she could drag her feet for a long, long time, although her parents' dissatisfaction was slowly rising.
She could spend her own money on her own wishes and travel far and long, trying to ignore the ache blooming in her heart whenever she thought of what awaited her back home. In the evenings, she met her friends at lavish restaurants and cafes, where they chittered like fair birdies about the joys of their lives. They would talk about the marriage – Suguru would tell them about the latest trips.
But life in a country where being a woman sometimes still felt like being a dog on a leash, at its owner's hand, didn't pay off.
After she returned from one of her trips, Suguru's father made it clear that unless she found herself a husband, he would no longer, as her guardian, allow her to frill. Although by law she could travel alone, permission from a guardian was sometimes, rarely, required to show officials so she could cross the border without trouble.
On that night, for the first time in a long, long while, Suguru cried herself to sleep. With heart swelling with pain and disgust rising in her throat. The sole thought of having a husband and fulfilling marital duties filled her with uncontrollable rage. The sole thought of feeling those rough, heavy hands on her silky skin, of smelling the rich, heavy oil coating their necks and of a harsh beard brushing the soft petals of her cheeks – made her sick.
Her father, fortunately, allowed her to choose her husband herself, and thus he searched far and wide for the man who would be pleasing to the eye and of a personality easy to tame.
So when the neighbouring merchant came into her sight, Suguru stated that she would only marry him. A man of influence and wealth who would easily afford all her wishes. One with strangely delicate hands and kind eyes, who looked at her as if she were one of the long-forgotten Arabian goddesses.
With skin shimmering gold in the crisp sun, and those deep, almond-shaped eyes looking down at him with a slight annoyance. But he didn't mind, for he truly believed there was no one more beautiful than the Suguru herself, and so he married her on the spot.
He… felt that she was different. Slightly cold and mean, she refused to share a bed with him and forced him to awkwardly explain why, after months of marriage, their child still wasn't on the way. She talked to him like a friend but avoided any closer contact, let alone the pleasure he wished to seek from her.
Looking with a furrowed brow at how she laughed and chittered with their maids, while treating her husband as nothing better than a dog. Sometimes, a nasty jealousy would bubble in his heart, for he truly prayed to see a child who would match Suguru's beauty.
He would watch her stroll through the garden of their home, with olive trees matching her silky skin and deep crimson abaya disappearing behind the corners of creamy columns. Sometimes, while Suguru enjoyed her time in the late nights, with the scorching sun long hidden behind the pale houses and stars mingling high over the city, slowly coming alive, he would invite himself to join.
And talk as if with a friend, while cherishing the softness of her voice and eyes that, after a few months, stopped looking at him like a pest.
On one such night, she offered something. Something he wasn't expecting to come directly from her, although he had thought about it for a while.
"Why won't we take the second wife?"
He froze, looking at her with a slight frown. "I thought you wouldn't like it."
"I know you wait for a child, and I cannot make your dream come true. Let's take a second wife, then. I will take care of her," she slipped in a promise, her sly gaze meeting his. "But I have one wish."
His spine straightened, as Suguru rarely had any of them. "Let me hear it, my wife."
Something bubbled beneath the soft skin of her forehead, and a few strands of crimson hair slipped from the loosely wrapped abaya, falling onto her cheeks. The deep plum of the material matched her dark lips as she curled them into a smile and narrowed her lavender eyes.
"Let me choose her."
A gentle wind suddenly stirred the still, burning air as he stared at her, his eyebrows almost brushing his hairline. Men of his wealth often took more than one wife, but stories of nasty jealousy between the women and secret fights behind the husband's back were often the subject of female gossip.
And thus a warmth spread all over his chest, knowing that Suguru was not only eager to allow another woman to enter their household, but also offered to seek her out himself.
So he could only nod and smile, letting his wife play a matchmaker.
He didn't, however, know the reason for it.
That Suguru already had someone in her mind.
A woman of beauty far surpassing hers, with eyes of utmost kindness and a sweet laughter that made her heart skip a beat. With silky hands that brushed Suguru's cheeks with gentleness and a cheeky cheerfulness dancing in the corners of her eyes.
Suguru met you two months ago, accidentally bumping into you at a cafe. It was a late evening, as you sat with your aunt and uncle in the centre of the city. The scorching, crimson sun was long gone, and a slight freshness was creeping between the murmuring alleys. Suguru knew your aunt and uncle, as one of the neighbours living not that far from her, and thus when her eyes fell on their niece… oh.
"Hello," you said, giving her a gentle nod.
Suguru forgot how to breathe and needed a moment to welcome you with the same gesture.
"Ah, Suguru, please join us," your aunt said, inviting her to your table. "And meet our niece. She has just finished university and, you know, is looking for a husband," she laughed, gently patting your arm.
A hidden awkwardness shone in your eyes. Fingers gripped the pinkish abaya a little tighter, and lips curled into a faint smile. "With no luck so far."
Your voice slipped into Suguru's ears like the sweetest melody, and she found herself leaning a little closer. As if trying to drink in, hear, and taste every detail of your lovely face and deep eyes fixed on… her.
On Suguru herself.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Suguru murmured, in fact not sorry at all. "I know how difficult it is to find a good husband."
Your auntie scoffed, sipping her tea slowly. "Oh, but it isn't! You see, it's just that this little angel here spent too much time frolicking with her friends. She barely spends time with men!" Suguru's eyes glimmered, and her heart swelled with sudden pain as she remembered that she, too, used to cut herself off from any of the boys trying to win her hand. "She has so many suitors and rejects them one by one!"
Suguru glanced your way, seeing your eyes fixed on her soft hands. Golden bracelets hugged her wrists, and a crimson abaya wrapped around her arms. A silky headscarf fell loosely over her head and around shoulders, allowing raven locks to smooch the lean cheeks. Your throat bobbed as you watched her deep red lips curve into a rather cheeky smile. When your gazes met, you looked away, feeling a sudden warmth creep up your neck.
"I see," she hummed, following your delicate hands playing with a pinkish robe. "I'm sure she will find someone good one day. If you don't mind, I may have some suitors in mind."
Your aunt clasped her hands, then gave Suguru's elegant palm a gentle squeeze. "Could you? She'll be staying here till the end of the summer, so take as much of her time as you want," she chirped, before turning your way. "What do you say, sweetie? Do you want Suguru to help you?"
And with a warmth spilling into your heart and a deep flush rising on your cheeks, you nodded.
So Suguru… took great care of you. The best, maybe, was taking you out on "dates" and spending time in local cafés. Enjoying the strolls around the markets and stuffing you with figs, dates, and warm bread, until you couldn't walk without holding her arm.
Your aunt was over the moon whenever she picked you up early in the morning, promising that you would surely love the boy Suguru had carefully picked for you. But instead, she would take you for another stroll around the city, another "date", while learning every single detail about your life.
It's not that you didn't want a husband, for having a big family wasn't a dream you'd chased for a long, long time, but… well. You loved men. Or at least, you didn't mind them.
But nothing ever brought you more joy than the softness of a woman's body. Plush lips kissing yours, fingers brushing your wet thighs, and the sweet scent of skin wrapping around your senses.
Loving men felt natural, but loving women was something sacred.
Something always took place behind the closed doors. With Suguru's fingers gently unwrapping your scarf and palms slipping under the long robes. Her soft kisses traced down your neck, and lavender eyes drank in every grimace of pleasure twisting your face.
You soon learnt to love the softness of Suguru's body. The calming feeling of lying on her chest and nuzzling between her heavy breasts, as if nothing in this world mattered.
The slightly dominant air she exuded around herself, and a mature, gentle guidance whenever you were the one slipping under her robes. Peppering her spread thighs and hips and mould of her warmth, with kisses, before letting yourself get drunk on honeyed sweetness spilling on your tongue.
You loved the feeling of her body under yours, and yours beneath hers, with soft moans filling the rooms of one of Suguru's husband's many houses, you soon started to come to. With naked bodies tangled under the soft sheets, and always crossing gazes.
You both simply needed two months to fall madly and endlessly in love with each other, with your eyes always seeking out Suguru's lavender warmth and her fingers always finding yours.
So when she offered to enter her marriage – not for him, for us – you immediately agreed.
"I want us to have a child," she whispered one night, while brushing your cheeks softly.
The crimson sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, and an evening's ambient filled the warm corridors of the house. She would soon need to bring you back to the aunt, but for now, for this slippery second, she still wished to embrace you. Kiss your cheeks, and chin, and lips, while begging to marry him.
To marry her.
For you were…
"The noor of my eyes," she whispered, kissing your eyelids. "And Sultan of my heart."
And you nuzzled closer into her palm, kissing the soft, velvety skin and moving up, and up, along the forearm to the shoulder and neck, before pressing your lips to hers. She tasted of dates and coffee, leaving a lovely fragrance on your tongue.
Your fingers slipped down her chest, rolling the hard nipples, squeezing a fat of her breasts. A soft moan escaped her lips, and you drank it right away, before pulling her closer. With your legs hooked over her hip and fingers sliding down her belly, till the wetness of her pussy.
Rubbing swollen clit, you kissed the curve of her nose, and chin, and eyes, reciting quietly all the love letters hidden deep in your heart.
"I want to give you a child," you said, once again capturing her lips. "And I want to love you till the skin of your cheeks wrinkles like dates," she giggled, and you joined her, gently biting her lower lip. "I'll give you family, for your love makes my nights longer and days a bit sweeter."
And so, a month later, you were officially married.
And on the night your marriage was officially consummated, you slipped away from your husband's embrace and went to do it again.
But this time, fulfilling the union with the one your soul was bonded to. Lying beneath the soft body of your Suguru, with her lips tracing down your belly and hands already spreading your thighs.
"Beautiful," Suguru murmured, digging her fingers into your skin. With tongue giving you a wet, sweet lick, making your feet curl in pleasure. "My beautiful wife."
And she made sure your wedding night was as memorable as possible. With the gentle thrusts of her fingers and lips smooching your swelling clit with gentle sucking. Deep, kohl-lined eyes looking up from between your thighs and your fingers brushing through her hair. Your juices spilling sweetly on her tongue, and you sucking on her heavy breast, when the time to give pleasure back finally came.
And so you made love all night long, with a deepest love and most pristine devotion weighing your fluttering hearts.
As on a paper, you were married to your shared husband.
But in heart, from the beginning till the end to her.
The mission in space was every physics teacher's wet dream. And yet, when you found yourself alone on a spaceship, dread filled your mind. Fortunately, it turned out you weren’t quite alone. As a weird creature you’ve met by accident seemed to be quite happy in helping you finish a mission and keep a warm company.
𖥔 ݁˖pairing: ꒰ Alien!Gojo Satoru x Physics teacher!Reader ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ : fluff, fluff, fluff : also a bit of angst : mutual masturbation : use of sex toys : happy ending : women in stem, doomed to never being able to touch each other : prepare some tissues : space : aliens : Satoru is a brat in every universe : alien's D : mates and mentions of mating ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖WC: ꒰ 15k ꒱
𖥔 ݁ ˖ notes: This story is based on the movie Project Hail Mary. Shoutout to @indiewritesxoxo whose story The One That Got Away inspired me to write a space-based fanfic!
dividers by @diviniyae
art by daichichirou on tt
"Miss, what's the space like?" a little girl with round frames asked you once during the class.
What's the space like? You wondered for a moment, with similar glasses resting on your nose.
Little models of planets swirled under the ceiling, clashing against each other with warm beams of sunshine curling around their painted bodies. The classroom stilled with silence, heavy and curious, marked by a dozen little eyes glancing up your furrowed forehead.
"Unfathomed," slipped almost in a whisper. But the kids were too young to understand this word, so you tried again. "It's endless, deep, mesmerising, silent, like–"
"Like a night?" a boy from the first row asked, playing with the wooden spaceship, all the children in the class had just finished painting.
You chuckled, playing with your own little toy, brushing the little silver window with a thumb.
"Much, much quieter," the spaceship landed on your desk, right next to the little, soft ball painted like Earth. Your eyes shimmered as you looked around the class of a dozen munchkins. "What do you hear while sleeping?"
Something began to coil in their little Einstein heads, with soft foreheads furrowed in thought. A flicker of an idea – a spark, their young minds were yet to discover and nourish throughout their lives.
You watched them with a smile, something warm spreading beneath your chest. Not everyone was born to be a teacher, with the day-to-day tiring work of preparing materials for classes, conducting lessons and checking all the foolish assignments that neither you nor the children liked. The education system truly was a shit hole from the very first steps those young minds took.
"Miss, that's a silly question," a little girl without one front tooth giggled. "We can't hear anything while we're sleeping!"
You hummed softly as you picked up the small earth ball. It yielded gently beneath your fingers, and the woollen toy, crocheted by your mother herself, felt pleasantly soft against your skin.
The bell would ring soon, and the afternoon sun was high in the sky, creeping through the tall, clean windows into the small classroom. Summer break was almost here, and the sweltering heat lingered in the stuffy air, filled with children's coughs and soft breathing.
"Exactly," you said, sitting on the desk and tossing the ball into the air. "That's what space is like. You can't hear anything."
"But what if I close my ears?" another boy said, pressing his hands to them. "I can't hear anything now, miss!" he screamed, setting off a wave of sweet giggles from his classmates.
The small green ball flew his way, and the boy caught it in one hand, scowling. "Hey, miss, that's not fair!"
"That was not, I do admit," you slipped off the desk, walking around the classroom. All small pairs of eyes followed you like puppies. "But you see, in space, there would be no need to cover your ears, because there is no air or matter for sound to travel through. Even when you're sleeping, there's always something out there, right?" Your eyes met a few nodding Einsteins before drifting towards the window. "You can hear the crickets singing under your window and the wind swirling between the leaves. But in space, there's nothing. Simply an empty, endless realm stretching beyond our comprehension."
A few droplets of sweat coiled on your temple, and you quickly brushed them with a thumb. Glasses sat crookedly on your nose, hair slipped away from a pin-up, and so you pushed them behind your ear.
"Miss, the space sounds so scary," the girl with round frames sighed. "I don't want to be an astronaut anymore."
You chuckled, coming to the previous boy and stealing a soft lump of earth from his sticky fingers. "The space may feel lonesome if you're there alone. But now, astronauts usually go in groups." The ball landed back on your desk, brushing gently against the wooden spaceship. "But even if you were alone, I think the view would be worth the night spent in loneliness."
And as it would soon turn out, nothing was worth the years spent alone. On the huge spaceship, with endless darkness spreading across the little window and years spent somewhere doing God knows what.
"The sun is dying," the government envoy had said. "Can you help us save the world?"
She caught you right after one of the classes, with a half-empty cup of instant noodles and cheeks peppered with crimson chilli-oil kisses. She arrived with a tall, muscular man and a printout of the PhD dissertation, placing a copy on your messy desk.
Your forehead crinkled, eyes landed on a neat, Times New Roman formatted title, An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations.
"That's not mine," you mumbled, going back to the cup of noodles. You hadn't eaten anything for a whole day, and your stomach was already pressed against your spine, with hunger twisting your weary mind.
"That's your name, isn't it?" she said, pressing a neatly trimmed nail against the smaller letters beneath the title.
You didn't even spare her a glance and simply shook your head. "No, I think you've mistaken me for someone else."
Both she and the man sighed, rolling two small chairs from the children's desk to sit in front of yours. With eyes fixed on your face, grimacing in ignorance, and a few locks of hair slipping into the cup.
"I'm Yuki," she said, crossing her legs before looking at the man with the dullest, most bleary eyes you have ever seen. "And that's Choso. We're from a… well. Now you only need to know that we work for NASA."
And that meant one thing – trouble.
Seeing your utmost disinterest, she continued in a warm tone. "Listen, we know your dissertation was a fantastic breakthrough that the supervising committee didn't appreciate. But–"
"A small correction," you interrupted, with eyes still glued to an almost empty cup. "They did not not appreciate me, but completely failed me. My research was proven wrong, and I spent almost five years chasing something that was never there. So no, it wasn't a breakthrough or anything."
"Her long fingers clenched into a fist, and a tongue nervously filled a creamy cheek. "Listen, in our current world situation, we believe that your research wasn't pointless. The hypothesis that life can exist without water–"
"Which was ultimately proven that it cannot," slipped in a whisper, gaze still following anything but those two.
"Right," she sighed, staying shockingly patient. "But the thing is, it actually may."
And for the first time in the past five minutes, you finally looked at her. With eyes hidden behind librarian-like glasses, a white shirt neatly pressed against your body, and chilli oil still coating lower lip. You brushed it quickly with a tissue before clearing throat.
"You have five minutes."
But Yuki needed just a second.
"There are some… microbes, the nature of which we aren't yet sure, that are slowly eating the sun. If we don't do something, in thirty years the global temperature will drop enough to kill every life on Earth."
A long, heavy silence stretched between the three of you, though she was the one doing the talking. The man in a suit sat in silence. He was rather handsome, with dark hair falling long down his neck and purplish under-eye bags framing his deep, doe-like eyes.
Feeling your eyes fixed on his face, Choso wriggled in place. "We believe that you are one of the few scientists who can help in research on those microbes."
A deep sigh slipped past your lips as you took off your glasses and closed eyes. A pulsing headache was filling your mind, weighing down an already overstimulated brain. A few short strands of noodles clung to the bottom of the plastic cup, looking up at your weary eyes, pleading to go home.
You finally murmured, throwing the cup into the bin, "I don't see how that's my problem. I'm just a physics teacher, the academic environment pushed me away, and I believe there are many more qualified scientists for this role."
Yuki's forehead furrowed, lips pressed in a line. "Not your problem? The world is dying, and you think it's not your problem?"
You could almost see a grey smoke drifting above her head, eyes shining like two coffee beans. Golden hair brushed against her suit-covered breasts, with a few straight strands sticking to soft cheeks. She appeared magnificently commanding, exuding a dominant aura of someone beyond the law. Even sitting on a small children's chair, you felt goosebumps cover your bare shoulders.
You leaned back in a chair, the hard backrest digging into your spine. "I just don't understand why it should be me. This," you pointed at a three-hundred-page dissertation, "was just a foolish fantasy of my younger self. And trust me, I felt how stupid it was," your eyes fell to your fingers, playing with a soft, earthy ball. "No one treats me like a scientist anymore."
And then, Yuki stood up.
Suddenly, reaching over the desk right to your shirt, before pulling you closer with a single move. Eyes fixed on yours like a deadly viper, and a sweet note of heavy perfumes hit your nostrils.
"Try it," she gritted through her teeth. "Accept my offer till I'm still begging. I don't want things to get messy, but I really need your help on this one."
And so, feeling rather threatened, you nodded swiftly and followed the kind smile that lifted up her lips.
Now, three years later, reflecting on that time, you never felt as happy and alive as you did then. Surrounded by the world's most exceptional scientists, working on alien, new microbes – the freshest discoveries in current scientific research – spending days and nights fuelled by bitter coffee, sitting in the labs.
The time didn't matter, as long as you could work on your research. To once again feel like a valuable input to the academic environment and a student from your PhD days, when the world was most beautiful under the microscope and while collecting the newest data.
Your heart raced during the meetings as your fingers carefully noted each idea, each plan that other scientists put forward. The greatest minds in the world, flooding your own with plans and speculations you could've never thought of. Your brain fired multiple times a day, always running, always getting fed with new questions and solutions.
Why is the sun dying?
How can we stop it?
How to produce enough fuel to go all the way right to the sun?
Is that even possible?
But then it was revealed that an alien microbe was composed entirely of water, and your world collapsed. Because it finally confirmed the very point you've been secretly trying to reject for years, proving to you that cells cannot survive without water.
Your heart broke, and a wave of shame washed over your spine. The shame connected to your younger self, foolishly believing in a greatness of discovery no one has ever made. Something worth the international conferences, massive grants, Nobel Prize, and yet, you needed a single, alien cell, something not belonging to the human world, to finally prove those old geezers from your committee right.
The white, big lamp of the lab flickered; darkness spilt over the endless night. Nothing but a faint buzz of mosquitoes filled the lab, hitting the window again, and again, and again. Hungry and relentless, looking at your body hunched over the failed experiment and slightly trembling lip.
You haven't noticed someone else's presence until something cold and wet touched your cheek. Turning the head around, you noticed a can of soda and Choso's pale fingers wrapped around it.
"Thanks," escaped in a whisper, as you took the drink.
He nodded, sitting on the stool right next to you. Your lab partner, who's been through your highs and lows for the past few weeks. The biggest encouragement and life support, always reminding you to eat well and drink something other than a third coffee in a row. He was another government body, Yuki's closest friend, yet – you liked him.
He felt the most normal here, and thus, your head rested on his shoulder, while hair covered the slightly wet cheeks.
"Are you crying?" he asked quietly.
Your head shook, and a second later, a loud sniff rolled. Choso chuckled, offering a tissue.
"Thank you, Cho," you mumbled, trying to hide the streaming tears behind the wide glasses.
He nodded, waiting for you to calm down a bit. The white lamp buzzed quietly, and the screen of the computer shone bright with your PhD dissertation. The thick letters of the title, with your name written right below.
Three hundred pages of bullshit born from your silly dreams. The Nobel Prize? Dear heavens, you barely deserved to be part of the current team.
"That's not the end of the world, you know?" he said, then pressed his cheek with tongue. "Hm, no. It actually is."
You laughed disgustingly, with a snort slipping out of your nose and another wave of tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry," slipped almost silently. "I'm sorry, I proved you all wrong."
Choso sighed, looking at your sorry state. He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and brushed away a single tear with a soft thumb. "No, you didn't. Now that we know what it's made of, you can think about another solution."
But there isn't another solution, you wanted to say, and instead bit down on your lower lip. The words bubbled in your throat, but a thin thread of hope still pulled at your heart. A faint wish that maybe this discovery wasn't a disaster. That the alien cell, made almost entirely of water, could somehow help with the mission.
That you could still prove yourself as a true scientist.
"Hey," Choso whispered, turning your face towards him. Deep, warm eyes shimmered with kindness as he offered a soft smile and gently pinched your cheek. "You are one of the smartest people I have ever met. I'm sure you can figure this out. Yuki believes in you. I believe in you." Staring into his eyes, you nodded with a pout. He chuckled and opened your soda with a quiet hiss. "Alright, let's call it a day and get back to it tomorrow. We still have time."
But the fact was that – you didn't.
And it was painfully obvious in how Yuki glanced into your lab every few days, asking about progress and results in halting the spread of alien microbes on the sun. Her neatly plucked eyebrows furrowed whenever you shook your head, and a short, stressed sigh escaped her rosy lips.
Try to hurry up, she would usually say, pulling a not-so-comforting smile.
Weeks went by, and everyone's stress increased. Yuki decided to set up a deadly mission, sending a team of astronauts to collect data personally.
The catch? They wouldn't return.
While there was enough fuel to reach the star teeming with alien microbes, there wasn't enough to return. Their goal was to collect the microbes, find a way to stop them from consuming the sun, and send all the data back to Earth.
The first time you heard about it, your knees almost buckled. It sounded outrageous, absolutely crazy, and the chance of finding someone mad and healthy enough to meet the requirements perfectly was already impossible.
And as it turned out, you were wrong.
The four astronauts were more than willing to sacrifice their lives for the greater good – to venture into the vast, endless space and perish there, in the company of strangers and eerie silence. To become saviours on a mission that could save the entire world.
Except, there was a risk the mission would fail.
Except, no one knew if they wouldn't lose their lives for nothing.
Because if that happened, if it turned out that all the money and sacrifices the government has invested in it would go to waste, the world would truly descend into shambles.
You stood against it from the very beginning, but You stood against it from the very beginning, but Yuki had already decided. And so there was nothing left to do but help the spaceship travel the twelve light-years towards the only star that was also dying, devoured by an alien microbe.
One hundred and thirteen trillion kilometres.
An unimaginably vast distance a simple mind could not grasp, yet you had to find a way to make it work. To figure out how to gather enough fuel to propel the massive, metal spaceship through every single kilometre.
And after a few weeks of getting yourself filled with coffee and nights spent outside the NASA base, gazing up into the endless darkness, you finally got it.
"The alien microbes possess unimaginable power," you said in one breath, looking like a madwoman. With hair twisted into a messy braid, hands shaking from too much caffeine, eyes glimmering as if possessed by Einstein himself. Your fingers gripped the black marker before drawing another black dot on the whiteboard. "You see, what we can do is allow the engines to feed the alien microbes into a reaction chamber and boil them to the point of natural breeding. This way, the cells will multiply and multiply, allowing us to use them in a much more efficient way," the black marker swooshed all over the board, drawing a crooked picture of the spaceship.
At least thirty pairs of eyes, seated in a conference room at NASA headquarters, stared into it with furrowed yet hopeful gazes. Yuki and Choso, among them, tried to understand the point you were making. The crazy discovery you had made mere hours earlier, before quickly asking for a meeting.
"Our ship doesn't need turbines, generators or heat exchangers, because there's no conventional fuel. It works as a sort of ship driven by light energy–"
"That's impossible," someone among the other scientists interrupted. "You cannot fuel a ship of such dimensions with light alone."
You nodded, whispering like a psycho under your breath, head buzzing with numbers. "Yes, you cannot do it with the sources we have here, on Earth. But," you turned back towards the whiteboard. "Our ship is not like the others, and the microbes allow us to actually use the light force as a fuel. Look, for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. Newton's third law, we all know it, right?" A few heads nodded in unison. "Well, our ship will emit light in one direction, while Newton's law will push it in the other. I know it used to work only in theory, but with the amount of power packed into a single microbe, we can use it for our good. In short, the alien power goes into the ship, the light comes out, and we can move forward."
A long, heavy silence filled the room as you finished your little drawing. Black lines coated the board, crossing the black dots and twisting around the childishly drawn ship. You pushed your glasses up your nose and tucked a strand of hair back behind your ear.
That was it. Nothing else could've been done on your side. If none of the scientists and governmental bodies believed your crazy plan could work, there was no other way to put the ship on a direct course towards that star.
Yuki sighed and looked around nervously. While people whispered, shook their heads, or took notes, no one offered you a warm nod or made direct eye contact. But it also seemed that no one else had a better idea.
"Are you sure it can work?" "Are you sure it can work?" Yuki asked, a heavy gaze lingering as warmth crept up your cheeks. "It's over a hundred and thirteen trillion kilometres. Are you sure the ship can be fuelled only by this alien microbe?"
Something weighed on your heart. Fear, panic, years spent believing you weren't good enough to become a real scientist. Those snickers from the PhD commission stating your research was useless. The rejections from one scientific conference after another, as no one wanted to accept your proposals.
Days spent on crying and staring at your dissertation, as if looking at it long enough would suddenly make it all worth it.
And then, under the cold light of the conference room, with thirty heads staring at you in blank mimicry, you needed to make a decision.
The one that would soon turn into a weight on your life.
"Yes," finally slipped. Strong and confident, as you corrected glasses slipping off your nose. "I can make it work."
But then…
But then the catastrophe came.
The betrayal.
Yuki apologising with utmost sincerity. Choso sitting quietly in the corner of her office. Three men keeping your body down.
From the moment you saw the space crew, one thought kept lingering in your mind. You dismissed it with a casual "they'll figure it out" wave, ignoring the instinct that indicated something was off – something that should have been clear from the start.
Why didn't the space crew have the scientist?
And a day before the departure, you finally discovered why.
"I'm sorry, I'm really so so sorry," Yuki said, trying to calm your wriggling body. The man's hands dug deep into your spine, keeping the hands and knees in place, with a cheek pressed to a dirty carpet. "We don't have any choice, and you wouldn't agree if I asked–"
"Of course I wouldn't!" you screamed, trying to bite the soft hand that reached towards you. "It's a fucking suicide! I'm a simple teacher; I can't go to a fucking space–ah, can you be a bit more gentle?!" But the men's fingers were already wrapping your hands with a thick rope. "Yuki, you can't do it to me!"
The woman didn't say anything. She merely opened her office door and beckoned someone inside. Wearing a white robe and holding a syringe between their fingers.
Your mind raced, breathing became almost impossible, and your throat clenched as you fought the sudden urge to vomit on the carpet. You tried to meet Choso's gaze, but he sat in the corner with his head in his hands, avoiding your gaze since you entered the office.
"Choso," you cried, as the doctor came closer. Long, thin needle shimmered under the office's cold lamp, sending a shiver down your spine. "Choso, l-look at me. You fucking coward, you bastard!" Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as the man sat like a stone figure. "You knew about it from the beginning, right? How could you do this to me?!"
Deep, warm eyes that you spent days gazing into finally looked up. Slightly wet, a bit hazy, while taking in the miserable state you found yourself in. Your glasses slightly crooked, lying a bit away from teary face. A few strands of hair sticking to your cheeks, arms twisted painfully behind back.
His fingers dug into the leather chair, as if trying to force himself to stay back.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't… I couldn't bring myself to tell you…"
"That I'm going for a fucking suicidal mission?!" you interrupted, still trying to kick the men off your body. "I thought we were friends! I trusted you! And you simply sold me away?"
Yuki shivered, her gaze shifting between coldness and heartbreaking warmth whenever she looked at your writhing body. She slipped her trembling hand into the pocket of her jeans before giving the doctor a small nod.
"N-No," you cried, when the man in white bent down. A sudden, sharp pain washed over your body, tickling the ends of your fingertips. "Please, I d-don't want to, I can't…"
And then, a weariness slowly filled your mind, lulling it into a deep sleep. Your body relaxed, eyes half-closed, as if weighted by the countless sleepless nights you had spent in labs.
The men lifted you up, keeping your head steady, but you didn't feel a thing. Your feet felt funny, light, as if blending into feathers. Some hushed voices started to argue, someone's warm hand brushed your cheek, and a heavy, musky smell filled your nostrils.
And before you lost consciousness, a silent save the earth sneaked into your ear.
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
"Amazing," a low sigh slipped past your lips as you watched a massive ship slowly follow yours.
Monstrous, at least twenty times larger than the spaceship you called home for the past three years, which couldn't be contained within the small window you looked through. It appeared incredibly bright, almost as if it were made of glass, yet you couldn't see anything beyond the thick walls.
It's been shadowing you since yesterday, and it has been following you since yesterday, regardless of how long you travelled or how fast you went; it remained right there. Always in your line of sight from your window, constantly mirroring every move you make.
It was… fascinating. To say at least.
A little frightening? Sure, as you were alone on a ship, with the crew long gone and drifting silently through the vast emptiness of space.
Bit still – fascinating. It marked the first time a human saw an object outside Earth. Majestic and otherworldly, it looked somewhat familiar yet vastly different. A faint cosmic glow shimmered on its diamond-like walls, casting short beams through your solitary window, as if attempting to communicate. As if the creature within tried to contact.
Still drifting slowly, you bit down on your lower lip. "Maybe I should stop?" you thought out loud, as another flicker of light hit your window. "What if they'll attack me?"
But at this point, already being alone on an impossible, suicidal mission, it seemed that an alien attack would be the least of your problems. In fact, maybe it would even sweeten your life a bit, and before meeting death, you would still have a chance to make the first human contact with life outside Earth.
"Okay," You took a deep sigh, pulling down the engine handle. "Let's see what you want from me."
Your ship stopped, and the monstrous glassed vehicle followed right away. With your forehead pressed to the window, you waited.
And waited, waited, till ten minutes passed and the ship stood still. Your tongue pressed against the soft cheek as you walked back and forth, awaiting any sign of activity. Yet, the vast galaxy outside remained tranquil, a gentle glow reflecting off the smooth, wall-like surface of the enormous ship. It lacked doors and windows, being just a glassy, shimmering exterior that–
"Oh no," your throat tightened as it drew closer. And closer, closer, swooshing towards you, something long slowly sliding out of the ship's tall wall. "Oh, that's bad, fuck."
A panic squeezed your heart, thoughts rushed through a tired mind, and there weren't enough cuticles on your nails to bite them all. The window was too small to see the thing clearly, but it seemed to be heading straight towards your ship's door. A long, shining tube swooshed closer and closer until your ship suddenly vibrated, as if gently brushing against a foreign object.
Your fingers fidgeted with the plush fabric of the shirt, while droplets of sweat made your glasses slide down your temple. With unsteady legs, you cautiously moved toward the astronaut's suit and started pulling it over your body. The zipper felt heavy under your touch, and the bubble-shaped helmet was more suffocating than usual. The oxygen backpack almost doubled your load as you headed toward the door, with heavy pounding in your chest.
Your heart was always perfectly healthy, and yet for the first time in your life, you tried to remember all the possible symptoms of a woman's heart attack.
Chest pain, severe shortness of breath, nausea, radiating pain in the neck and jaw, you counted in your mind, marking each and every sign in your current state.
"Fuck, okay," trembling, glove-coated hands squeezed the handle of the massive, metal door, before you pushed it. It opened with a low, soft creek, inviting you into the endless tunnel filled with darkness.
To your surprise, gravity worked here, and thus you dropped heavily onto the hard floor. A soft oh filled the helmet as you lifted the flashlight a bit higher. Something shimmered at the end of the darkness, yet you weren't sure what.
Your steps didn't echo from the thick walls as you slowly approached the entrance to the alien ship. Thoughts clashed painfully in your mind, questions rose one by one as you breathed with a squeezed chest under the weighty kilograms of a spacesuit.
How many of them were there?
What did they look like?
Were they friendly?
How quick and painful would your death be?
Your mind tried to ignore the last one, as the chance of a cardiac arrest before meeting an alien seemed much more likely. Fingers clutched the flashlight tighter, feet moved carefully, one step after another, sticking to the tunnel's crooked surface.
"Hello?" Your voice bounced off the walls, lined with terror. "Whoever you are, I come in peace!"
Oh, what a cheesy line, you thought, biting down on your lower lip.
After a few steps, the glimmering thing came fully into view, and only then did you notice it was a thick glass wall. Or at least something similar to glass, with a hard surface that stopped you from going any further.
Glove-clothed hand touched it, helmet bumped against it, as you tried to light the darkness spilling behind it.
"Hello?" slipped a bit louder, with your fist knocking on the glass. "Anyone there?"
A silence, dull and endless, filled an eerie tunnel. Looking back, you took a note that your spaceship was still there – safe and sound – and you let out a deep sigh. It's not as if it would suddenly float away, but–
A heavy thump suddenly shook the tunnel's floor.
Your head snapped back, breath hitched, fingers squeezed with a tremble around the flashlight.
"H-Hello?"
The light reflected off something towering and shimmering, slowly moving toward you in a relaxed, unhurried manner, nearly as tall as the tunnel itself. A bluish halo beamed off the creature's body, filling the dark space with a soft aura.
You stepped back, trying to direct a flickering beam straight at the thing coming your way, but your hand trembled too much. The heart was on the verge of stopping, and dread haunted the mind as it drew closer, revealing its height. At least two and a half metres, brushing the ceiling of the tunnel's crooked walls, filling the narrow space with its wide body.
And when the light caught on their face… oh.
The pale blue skin shimmered softly under a luminous glow. It appeared unnaturally smooth, soft, and a sudden, foolish wish to brush it with your thumb swirled inside your mind. White, snowy hair touched the handsome forehead, while nearly inhumanly pale-blue eyes gazed down at your spacesuit-covered body. You looked tiny and short in comparison, with a gloved hand once more resting on the glass wall.
The creature was dressed in a white suit, clinging tightly to its body and digging deep into the hard muscles bulging under its skin. Alien's head tilted, knees bent down, and within a second, it found itself on eye-level with you.
White lashes decorating endless, luminous blue fluttered, as if trying to take in the terror twisting your face.
"⊑⟒⌰⌰⍜," a low, manly voice crept past the glass.
Your eyes bulged like two porcelain plates, fingers pressed closer to the wall.
So he was a man.
Well, you could already figure that much based on his looks, but the warm tone slipping under your bubble helmet was evidence enough.
Your mind didn't register the language at first, but when his soft brow travelled up, and lips curled in a smile, you thought that maybe he was awaiting an answer.
"Oh, um," you took a step back, waving your hand clumsily. "Hello."
The creature's head tilted again, and he mimicked your gesture.
You blinked twice, still struggling to believe the situation you're in. "Uh, okay, what now?" you whispered. "I am..." You pointed at your head and said your name clearly and loudly. "What about you?"
"⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑ ⊑⟒⍀⟒," the creature said, and a wave of different sounds and tones once again hit your ears.
You sighed, pressing tongue against your cheek. "Right, it's not going to work."
He looked at you, and you looked at him. You, with a slightly furrowed forehead and your mind rushing through all the possible ways to communicate with the alien. He, with lips curled cheekily and pale eyes fixed on your face.
"I wouldn't mind your cooperation, you know?" you mumbled, but he tipped his head left and right, like a curious puppy.
"⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒," the same sounds once again slipped past the glass wall.
His head was tipping and tilting, and a second had passed before you finally understood that he wanted to say something.
"What? I don't understand," you said, mimicking his movements.
And thus both of you were shaking and tilting your heads, going over and over the same ⊬⍜⎍ ☊⏃⋏ ⏚⍀⟒⏃⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒,and I don't understand.
His brows furrowed as if irritated, and large hand touched his chest. He took a deep breath – first and second – then pointed at his head and finally at yours.
Oh.
"You want me to..." you gestured as if removing the helmet. A quiet chuckle escaped him, and eyes glinted. "But I can't breathe here."
He didn't understand and thus pointed at your head once again. "⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⏁ ⍜⎎⎎."
Your head shook. "Whatever you say, I cannot take it off. Because I will…" Your hands slipped up to your throat before a wave of trembling convulsions bent your body. It wriggled, shook, before, with a theatrical cough, you fell down the crooked floor.
The creature was staring at you with a furrowed forehead and a gentle flicker of amusement coiling in his spectral eyes.
"Not the best first impression, I know," you muttered, swiftly standing up. "My point is, I can't breathe without it."
But it seemed he either didn't understand or was simply relentless in his pleadings. As the long fingers hit the glass wall, pointing right at your head. Another deep breath slipped past his lips, and he nodded, as if trying to say it was fine. Whatever he filled the tunnel with, you could breathe here.
And thus, the thought of what if slipped quietly into your mind.
What if he was right?
What if he really did fill your half of the tunnel with oxygen?
But what if he was wrong, and the moment the helmet would go off, you would die in inhumane suffering?
Light blue eyes shone with anticipation, lips curled into an encouraging smile, and a finger pressed harder into the glass wall.
You took a deep breath, feeling the droplets of sweat coiling at the nape of your neck. He seemed to be a highly intelligent creature, with the ability to communicate as well as you and a rather comprehensive understanding of the differences between your species. For some reason, trusting him felt almost natural, and the assuring look of his spectral gaze made you drop your head with a sigh.
When fingers hooked on the helmet's edges, your heart was nearing its death. Chest squeezed painfully, eyes closed till the eyelids dug deep into your balls. The sweat was now dripping down your spine, wetting the nape of your neck and shirt that clung to your body under the heavy spacesuit.
"Okay," you whispered, both to yourself and him, and it seemed that he was rather amused by the agony twisting your mind. When he chuckled, your brows furrowed. "Don't laugh. There's a rather big chance this air will burn me from the inside."
And so it happened – your fingers slowly unclasped the neck ring, allowing the pressurised seal to loosen with a soft puf. The bubble helmet was lifted unhurriedly, as if your lungs were still trying to grasp the rest of the oxygen swirling inside it.
With still closed eyes, you took the first breath. And the second, and the third, and then, looking back at the alien, a sweet, loud scoff slipped past your lips, and flushed cheeks.
"⌇⟒⟒, ⟟ ⏁⍜⌰⎅ ⊬⍜⎍," he chuckled, pressing his forehead to the glass wall.
Still in shock, you stepped closer, also touching the warm, crystal surface with your brows. "Sure, whatever you say."
You looked at each other for a while, with beaming smiles and foreheads almost brushing as you leaned in, a rather intimate gesture. It seemed that the first meeting with another species broke down some specific walls for both of you. The curiosity and fascination with one another blurred the lines of proper manners, breaching all the careful first steps you surely should think of.
His eyes flickered, suggesting a new idea had just come to him. He raised a finger and gestured for you to stay put. After your gentle nod, he vanished into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving you alone with your thoughts swirling in your mind.
Five minutes passed, then ten, and as you sat on the crooked floor and took off the heavy spacesuit, he finally came back, with something gripped by his hand.
You looked closer, noticing the collar-like device and a small earplug. He placed it inside his ear while wrapping the collar around the pale neck. A faint, crispy sound filled his side of the tunnel, and milky brows furrowed as he pressed onto the device in his ear.
And then, with a gesture, he asked you to say something.
"Um," your head tilted, and he sat right in front of you, waiting with a soft smile. "You are rather pretty for an alien."
His fingers still pressed the small device, and after a second, cheekiness flickered in his eyes. "Am I, question? You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."
To say you froze in shock would be an understatement.
Your lips parted, eyebrows nearly touching hairline, as body leaned forward before your hand pressed against the glass wall. You didn't know whether you were more surprised by either his ability to speak your language or the casual compliment that caused your cheeks to heat up.
"You can…" You shook your head, barely breathing. "But how is it…"
He pointed at his ear. "This device recognises your language," then gestured to his neck. "And connects with this. Whenever I speak in my language, this collar converts it into yours."
A soft ah slipped past your lips, eyes fixed on the thin, crystal band made of a sort of rubber material. Your finger brushed the glass wall, as if trying to feel the device beneath it.
Your brows furrowed when another issue started to bite into your curiosity. "But how do you know my language? How did you build this translator? Our species never made contact."
He sat closer, pressing his forehead to the glass again. At this point, you started to wonder whether it was a sort of typical signal from his species, carrying a special, unknown meaning. And when he beamed with joy, you noticed little white droplets shining faintly, sprinkled around his cheeks. Was this an equivalent of a blush?
"You didn't with us," he pressed a finger to yours, and only then did you see the true, monstrous size of his hand. "But the Reds had been studying you for years."
The reds…
"Oh gosh!" A gasp ripped out of your throat as you covered your mouth with a hand. His head tilted. "The Reds, you mean, Martians?"
"Why are you shocked, question?" he asked, carefully eyeing as you quickly stood up and started walking back and forth between the walls.
Your mind pulsed, trying to comprehend everything that had happened over the past hour. The strange spaceship, the first-ever human contact with life beyond Earth, the final confirmation that aliens did, in fact, kidnap people and conduct experiments on them.
"I'm shocked, because humans never made any contact with life outside our planet," you said, biting down on a fingernail. "How long have you known the Reds?"
A low hum slipped past his lips, and smooth, blue forehead creased. "Five hundred years, I say."
"What?!" Your knees buckled as you once again sat in front of him, with hands and forehead and breasts pressed tightly to a glass wall. "Five hundred years? How is that possible? Are your planets close to each other?"
His head shook, but forehead remained wrinkled. "Humans are very underdeveloped."
You chuckled softly, noticing small, adorable language mistakes the translator made here and there. It's still, robotic voice muffled the creature's deep tone, and something squeezed your heart, as you surprisingly discovered that the honeyed warmth of his tone wrapped your mind in a rather pleasing manner.
"Yes, it seems so." Your head turned, with flushed cheeks pressed to the wall. "But till now I had no idea how far behind we are."
He stayed quiet for a moment before tapping gently on the wall. Your eyes slipped back to his, noticing the droplets sprinkled across his face, radiating adorably like flickering stars.
"My name is Satoru," rolled quietly, as the shimmering dust coated his cheeks ever wider. "Your name, question?"
When you said it slowly, he nodded, still tapping on the surface. Right against your pressed hand. "That's a very beautiful name."
"Yours is not bad either."
He hummed, as if in agreement.
Your head grew heavier and heavier, and the warmth was gently trying to coax you into sleep. As you yawned, Satoru's ghostly eyes carefully followed the exhaustion clouding your forehead.
"Are you tired, question?"
His throat bobbed when you giggled. "You don't have to add a question at the end of each ask, you know?"
You assumed that, because of his grammar rules, he needed to emphasise the difference between normal sentences and inquiries. You've noticed that his language sounded much more melodic than yours, yet it lacked the upward pitch humans use.
"But I am tired, thank you for asking." Looking over your shoulder, you've noticed that your ship was, fortunately, still there. "How about I go to sleep, and we'll get back to our talk in a few hours?"
You slowly stood up and grabbed your heavy spacesuit. Glasses slipped off your nose, and hair stuck to still-warm cheeks, as you lifted up the flashlight and… oh.
It seemed that you missed the sudden sorrow deepening between Satoru's brows. Eyes widened in panic, big palms plastered to the wall with lips just slightly opened, as he looked with a fearful expression at your attempt to move away from the wall. From him.
"Satoru–"
"Can you please sleep here?" His voice trembled, although the translator's robotic tone remained unwavering.
You looked around the tunnel, feeling the crooked ground bending beneath your feet and the dark walls emitting a deep, earthy smell. "I don't think that's a good idea, Satoru." A warm smile lifted your lips as you turned towards your spaceship. "But don't worry, I'll be back. Sleep for a bit, and before you'll notice, I'll–"
"Please," the anxiety filling his shaken voice stabbed right through your heart. "Please let me watch you sleep."
You glanced over your shoulder, seeing him in the same position. With hands pressed against the wall and eyebrows furrowed deeply.
"Watch me sleep?"
He nodded. "I… I didn't watch my crew sleep. The crew died. Satoru has been alone for the past forty years." Your lips fell open, but he quickly added, as if afraid you'd refuse again. "I watch you sleep, you won't die."
Seeing his face – filled with anxiety, pure fear, and misery – you could only smile softly and nod. As the mere thought of this man spending over forty years in space all alone tore your heart apart in the most inhumanely painful way.
"Yes, okay," barely pushed past your lips, before you cleared your throat. "Just let me bring my stuff."
You quickly changed into pyjamas, gathered a few blankets, a pillow and enough water for the night, before going back to the warm tunnel.
And then, as you drew closer to the glassy wall, you noticed a slight change in its shape. As during the five minutes you were gone, Satoru had prepared a special shelf for your body to lie right next to him. With his own feather-like blanket, he lay on his side, waiting for you to slip into the long space and hug him.
You giggled, filling the space with your own things. "That's quite intimate, Satoru."
His body was much taller than the width of the tunnel, and thus, he curled his legs a bit before trying to get even closer to you. "What does intimate mean, question?"
With head hitting the soft pillow and blanket covering your body, you turned his way. Nothing but a thick crystal wall kept you away from brushing noses with each other.
"It means that you're trying to be romantic with someone," but then you thought he might also not understand what romantic means. "Hm, it's when you do nice things for a certain person that you wouldn't do for anyone else. For example, make a special bed to be closer to someone."
A soft crease wrinkled his forehead, and the peacefulness of his eyes told you that he was deeply thinking. "I wouldn't do it for anyone other than you."
The sincerity beaming from his eyes was enough to assure you of the innocent truthfulness of his words. So you sighed, nuzzling deep into the pillow, hoping he didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.
"That's very romantic, you know? Something you would say to your special someone."
"To your mate, question?"
You hummed, softly closing eyes. His presence somehow made your body tingle with a pleasant warmth, allowing the sleep to haunt your mind in a much softer, calmer way. In a way, you didn't feel for a long, long time, spending days in loneliness and a maddening need to feel someone else's warmth again.
You couldn't feel Satoru's heat, yet your heart fluttered fondly as his gaze truly watched you sleep.
"Yes, although humans don't mate."
"Why, question?"
When you giggled – sweetly, kindly – droplets coating Satoru's cheeks lighted up. Solely for a second, but it was enough to make him slip closer, and closer, and closer, till the glass wall was digging painfully into his body, and his heart still rushed your way.
You bubbled something under your nose. An answer he could not hear. With your lips falling open and a crystal string of saliva dripping down the soft pillow.
His finger pressed against the glass, as if wishing to brush it away.
And when another five minutes passed, a soft snoring filled your side of the tunnel. Breath calmed down, and body drew closer to his. Trying to curl into his – big, burning hot, utterly dangerous for yours.
"I watch you sleep," he whispered, brushing the glass with your pressed cheek. "You never die."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
Satoru was much more intelligent than you expected.
It's not that you treated him as beneath you, but the true power of his mind exceeded your expectations.
And as it turned out, he was in the same situation as you – researching the alien microbes that were also eating his sun. Except that his species discovered the problem forty years before yours, and thus a wave of panic washed over your mind. Because if a creature like Satoru couldn't find the solution to the problem that apparently touched not just Earth but the whole universe, you wouldn't do it either.
One difference between you and Satoru was that, as an engineer, he could actually do things himself. Simply produce them, with all the glassed walls and tiny models of planets made from a strange, gluey substance that rolled off his fingers. He wasn't a scientist like you, so when he heard that you were the "brain" of the crew, his eyes flickered.
"We can work together," he proposed, already considering the path to the only planet not consumed by alien microbes. Since it wasn't infected, it suggested there was something in its atmosphere that enabled it to withstand the lethal bacteria. "You will be the mastermind of the entire operation, I will develop the sources. Also, I have spent forty years here, so I know how to navigate."
His eyes were fixed on creating another little planet, rolling the gluey strings between his pads, moulding them into a ball and waiting until the substance dried into a crystal orb. After a few days, your glassy wall had advanced enough to have a small opening for a shelf where you could exchange little presents.
Although you forgot that Satoru's atmosphere was close to boiling lava in temperature, when your hands accidentally brushed, a nasty, red bump was left on the skin of your thumb.
He put the ball on the shelf and moved his hand away so you could grab it.
"Which planet is it?" you wondered, brushing the crystal surface.
He tsked – something he learnt from you mere hour ago – and mumbled. "The earth, of course."
A scoff escaped your lips, and warmth spilt over the heart. "We're not that small."
"I believe you are."
"And we have more greenery."
He wondered, this time building a small spaceship. Your spaceship. "I would like to see it."
Some things have become clearer after spending the past few days in Satoru's presence. His planet was one of the closest to the sun, wrapped in a dense atmosphere that protected its inhabitants from being burned alive. As Satoru said, the days merged with the nights, and it was always rather dark – hence the pale, almost spectral eyes he and other inhabitants had. There was little to no greenery, and the water system had long been sustained by technologies developed by engineers like him.
"A lot of sand", he once said, and you wondered whether it would look like anything close to the climate of Arab countries.
His head tilted then, and eyes flickered with curiosity. "How do Arab countries look, question?"
You tried to describe the endless desert plains, the crimson sun, the curling droplets of sweat on your neck, and the nights filled with beaming joy as best you could. The feel of warm sand under your feet, sea brushing the skin sweetly and fresh dates melting on your tongue in sugary pleasure.
He listened, with eyes following the curve of your lips and fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
"I would love to see it," he muttered, poking the glass wall with his finger. "It sounds beautiful."
You giggled, following the pale blue of his skin. Soft and shiny, it reminded you more of a region bitten by cold than of the merciless atmospheric temperature of over two hundred degrees Celsius.
"You're rather pale for someone living right next to the sun."
He scoffed, with fingers still creating the small spaceship. In the meantime, you leaned against the crooked tunnel's wall, with a laptop on your thighs, trying to plan the route towards the only "safe" planet.
"I'm not pale. I'm blue."
"That was a joke," you shoot him a glance, seeing the irritated squint of his eyes. "It means that the thing I say is supposed to be funny. You should laugh."
A low, awkward chuckle rolled off his lips, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing. Satoru knew how to express his joy, but it seemed he didn't quite possess the humour you did.
The moment has passed, and a comfortable silence stretched between the two of you. He was mapping the galaxy, while you tried to work out whether your ship still had enough fuel to travel that far. It would take you months to reach that planet, but there seemed to be no other choice. After that mission, the fuel will run out, and you, just as planned, will die here – somewhere in the embrace of endless space.
A low sigh slipped past your lips, catching Satoru's attention. "Are you tired, question?"
Your head shook, and a few strands of hair fell loosely from a pinup. "I would love to invite you to my ship. There's a room where we can watch movies and stuff. I'm sure I can find something about Egypt."
And so…
You've also learned over the past few days that Satoru took everything seriously.
In the most genuine and firm understanding of this word.
Two weeks have passed since your meeting. One morning, as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, dressed in nothing but panties and a loose shirt while brushing your teeth, a deep, gravelly rumble shook the entire spaceship.
Your heart leapt into your throat, eyes bulged, and you dashed out of the room with wet hair and bare feet. With all the prayers you've learnt as a child repeating in your mind over and over again, as you run towards the entrance of the ship.
Did you somehow get unsealed from the tunnel?
Did something hit the ship and cause the irreparable damage that would cost you your life?
Fuck, did–
But when you finally got into the room connected with an entrance, with toothpaste smeared all over your cheek and glasses falling crookedly off your nose, a low gasp slipped past your lips.
"Satoru?!"
Because the pale-bluish creature himself stood in the middle of your spaceship, locked in a…
"And you're in a ball?" Like a hamster, wanted to join, but he probably wouldn't know what a hamster is.
Standing right in front of you, fully upright, with long legs wrapped in a white suit and a muscular back bulging under the stretched material – he appeared even more monstrous than usual. A creature over two metres tall, looking all over your place with amusement shining in his eyes, his gaze following all your dirty panties spread across the floor.
"Yep, so I won't die in your atmosphere," long fingers knocked the crystal ball, before lips curved in a cheeky smile. "Can I smell it, question? I want to know how your body smells. Put it to the shel–"
A sudden warmth had hit your cheeks, and throat tightened around the remnants of the toothpaste. "Absolutely not! It's very not polite of you to ask such things."
He started walking around in a large ball that barely fit the corridors of your spaceship, its hard walls brushing against each and every machine, piece of furniture, and console on its way. He strolled freely, dropping different comments here and there, while you followed him and picked up all your clothes.
"So dirty," he snapped, pushing a loud scoff from your throat.
"I didn't expect the guests!"
But he ignored you, as your bedroom appeared somewhere within the line of his sight. Blue cheeks shone with crystal droplets, and white, fluffy hair almost stood on end with excitement. Before you could stop him, long legs swiftly moved towards your bedroom, taking in every little, dirty, detail – more panties, a small mattress, a few books lying scattered all over the floor.
"Is that our nest, question?" He looked around before parking his ball next to your mattress. He sat down, leaning against the floor, and finally shot you a look. "I like it."
With a deep, weariness-filled sigh, you returned to the bathroom, cleaned yourself, and re-entered the bedroom. Soft light reflected off the glistening droplets on his cheeks as he probed the fabric of your panties with his finger. Only then did you realise that the ball, despite being firm, was quite flexible, enabling him to slide his fingers through its surface, which was covered in a sticky, shimmering coating that shielded his skin from the oxygen.
You took the material away from his curious gaze and pushed it back into your bag.
"Satoru, what are you doing here?" slipped rather harshly as you sat down on your bed.
He seemed to be confused by your tone, tilting the fluffy head with a furrow. "Are you mad, question?"
You knew that getting angry with him, while he was still learning to recognise human emotions, was silly. Stupid, even, and you felt as if you were shouting at the poor puppy. Except that this puppy was much taller than you and probably weighed twice your weight.
With a sigh, you fell back on the mattress and covered your face with an arm. "Sorry, I'm not mad. Just… surprised. I didn't expect you would come up my ship."
He tried to roll closer, but the space was too small to allow him any other movements than going back and forth from the entrance to your mattress. So he stayed in place, trying to observe the expression on your face.
"I can't see you like that," he noted.
Another thing you've learnt about his species was how important contact and intimacy are. Not even sexual ones, but rather a simple need to always be with someone. To communicate while looking right into their eyes, to feel their skin on theirs, and to follow the movements of their lips. To feel the presence of another creature next to them, even if the only thing you did was sleep next to each other.
So another sorry slipped past your lips, and you sat again, showing Satoru your face. He slightly lightened up before pressing a hand to the crystal ball.
"You said, and I quote, I would love to invite you to my ship," he noted with utmost seriousness, and you rolled your eyes. "So I came."
Well, he was right. You did say that, and you did wish there were a way to bring him into your ship. Travelling together would be much easier if both of you were on one ship, so amidst the pure chaos and shock he caused, you quite enjoyed the fact that he could live here.
With you.
"Okay," your hand pressed to the ball, filling half of his palm. "But we need to set up some rules first. First, we don't sleep in the same bedroom–"
"But I must watch–"
"Satoru," you interrupted him, seeing the pale eyes slip into the sorrowfulness. "You have excellent hearing and even more excellent sight. I'm sure you can watch me sleep while staying next door." A grim twisted his face, and a low mumble filled his little bubble. Too quiet for the translator to catch, so you chuckled sweetly, seeing his brattiness surface. "Okay. The second rule – you can't sniff my panties. It's something… reserved only for mates."
And, well, if that didn't fire him up – with eyes suddenly beaming in excitement and droplets twinkling one by one, like a tiny mingling stars. You felt as if you had challenged him, and thus quickly added. "And because we are not mates, you cannot do it. It's too intimate."
"I want to be intimate."
A sudden flush hit your cheeks, and warmth spread beneath your chest. "No, Satoru, you don't understand. It's about sexual intimacy. Something you share while…" saying it out loud felt like giving a biology lesson to elementary school kids. "Mating… with your special someone. When you, well, have sex and stuff. Do you know–"
He chuckled low, a sly smile lifting his lips. "I know what mating is."
Something in your lower belly bubbled, seeing him like that. Tall and strong, spreading a slightly possessive and dominating aura. With eyes full of bratty cheekiness and something, something, slightly sensual dripping from his voice.
"Well, so you know that we can't do it," You moved back, taking your palm away from the crystal ball. "Let's work on our plan and try to find a way to save the world."
And with a slight dissatisfaction, Satoru finally agreed.
But the next months spent in his presence were… interesting. To say at least.
Every day brought new surprises, which sometimes ended with your body blushing from head to toes, sometimes him getting shy and flustered, while still trying to keep up the cocky demeanour.
He was nothing less than excellent when it came to engineering and helping with the travel itself, also being an amazing companion for the long, daring journey.
Soon he resigned from constant stay in a ball and filled the interior of your spaceship with long corridors of crystal, making himself at home. Whenever you were – he was right next. Be it a bedroom, control room, kitchen or…
"Satoru!" You quickly covered your breasts with your hands, seeing him walking into the bathroom with the most casual demeanour.
A plate of some weird substance, he was always eating for supper, and a white suit half unzipped, showing off his muscular, blue chest. He leaned against the door, spectral eyes slowly following your naked body. From legs up to hips, staying longer on the gentle swell of your ass and the mould of your pussy, before going up, and up, to the breasts covered by your trembling fingers. "Sweetheart is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."
"Sweetheart" because he really wished to call you something human pairs use for each other. Even though at least three times a week, you needed to remind him that you, in fact, were not a pair.
A muffled, surprised scoff escaped your lips. You pointed to the exit with one hand, forgetting it was clutching one of your breasts. When the silky swell smoothly slipped from your grasp, bouncing gently before his eyes, he moved closer, already pushing a finger through the stretching wall.
"Can I–"
You smacked it, once again showing the exit. "Satoru! You can't walk on me while I'm naked."
"Why, question?" he asked, relentlessly trying to get closer to your body. With a finger poking the wall, that unfortunately couldn't stretch enough to even brush your skin. "Come a bit closer."
Something in your belly bubbled, warmth spread across your chest, and a single, dirty thought of letting him touch you bloomed in your mind. After all, sexual needs and anatomy were among the things all researchers wished to know about foreign species. And because Satoru was of the same, curious kind as you…
"It's too early, out!"
His head tilted, and lips curved into a foxy smile. "It's eight in the evening."
"No, I mean, we're not close enough to do such stuff."
He knocked on the crystal wall. "Sweetheart, but I can't get closer."
Oh god.
You sighed, finally letting the other tit bounce softly too. Leaning against the small shelf, you glanced at him with a frown. He, however, looked anywhere but into your eyes. Rude.
"Our relationship is not on that level…" yet. "What you want to do is too intimate. Sexual." And then, a sudden curiosity spiked your mind. "Satoru, how does the… mate thing look like among your species?"
His eyes finally slipped up to yours. "We choose one mate for a whole life."
Well, that was rather clear.
"What about the, you know…" You gestured awkwardly, partially at your still naked body.
"The mating," he finished. But as if feeling the spike in your curiosity, with round eyes ogling his naked chest and slipping shyly towards his hips, he bubbled a low chuckle. "Come closer, and I will show you."
What a brat!
With the last tsk and a dirty look shot his way, you turned back towards the mirror and finished your quick, morning "shower". Even while using rinseless soap and water pouches to clean your body, you still felt Satoru's presence behind you.
Deep blue eyes following the curve of your body, back muscles working beneath the soft skin, and when you bent over to rinse your face, a sudden, sharp breath escaped his throat.
You didn't have to look back to know that he was looking straight at your pussy.
"It's wet," he mumbled, coming closer. And closer, until his finger once again tried to evade the stretching wall, too short to even brush the swell of your ass.
You hummed, trying to hide an embarrassed warmth kissing your neck. "It's a natural lubrication. It usually happens when a woman is…" oh fuck it. "Excited."
He seemed charmed, completely bewitched, and some part of you wished the temperature between your bodies wasn't over two hundred degrees Celsius. As the moment Satoru's hands touched your skin, you weren't sure whether calling it the third burn would be enough.
"Why is sweetheart excited, question?"
With your body leaning forward and hands resting on the shelf, you looked back, eyes slightly hazy, wetness dripping down your thigh. A silken droplet swirled down your leg, and Satoru's always oh-so-attentive eyes, of course didn't miss it.
"I want the taste," he mumbled, and only then did you notice a bulge, trying to rip free from beneath the white spacesuit covering his hips.
You took a deep breath, bending yourself lower and lower, till he could clearly see your cunt shining with silky wetness.
"I'm excited," you started, voice dripping with sensuality. "Because of you."
As if awaiting this exact answer, his eyes, for just a second, ripped themselves away from your soft pussy and looked up. To cross with yours – slightly teary, a bit too warm.
"I want to–"
You turned around, once again leaning against the shelf. A low groan escaped his throat, as he no longer could see your pussy in its fullness. The little pout twisting his lips made you giggle, but a tricky, dirty thought has slipped into your mind.
"How about this?" You took a step, then another, until you stood right in front of him. Much closer than before, but not close enough to let him brush your skin. "I will let you touch me. Watch me…" You coughed, feeling this wind of bravery leave your body as quickly as it had come. "Masturbate. And you'll let me do it too."
Satoru's lips fell open, eyes sparkled in excitement. "I thought the intimacy was only for mates. Are we mates then, question?"
"Let's call it friend with benefits."
His eyes narrowed. "We don't do such things with friends."
You scoffed, pushing your hip to the side and biting the inside of your cheek. "Well, we do, so you can either accept it or not."
And seeing that this time his bratty stubbornness wouldn't work, Satoru nodded.
A few minutes later, you found yourself in the most embarrassed, going-straight-to-the-grave position you could imagine. With elbows supporting your body on the bedroom's mattress, legs spread open, and pussy pressed against the crystal wall. The slippery juices coated the surface, making Satoru breathe much, much harder than before. With fingers wrapped around the biggest, most monstrous cock you've ever seen.
You needed a moment to take in the sight that sprang up in front of your eyes after he took off the rest of the suit. Massive, veiny shaft, with a swelled protrusion at his base, probably used while mating. The blue skin was peppered with similar droplets sprinkled on his cheeks, and shimmered faintly whenever he looked down at your cunt.
Small and fluttering, with your hole squeezing around nothing and clit swelled from excitement.
The penetrative gaze of his made you warm up even more. "Satoru, touch me," slipped like an order.
His long finger brushed the crystal wall and pushed – gently, carefully, till he felt a soft button under his pad and heard a low moan escape your lips.
He dreamed of feeling the gummy structure of your pussy. To roll the clit between his fingers, without any surface protecting his body. To lower himself down and smell, lick, taste the dripping cum that in his mind was sweeter than anything he had ever tried.
And it should be noted that he had quite refined taste buds.
His other hand pumped his massive cock in slow strokes, enjoying the sight spreading in front of him much more than the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the dripping shaft.
"Does it feel good, question?" He asked, hearing another moan fill the small bedroom.
"Y-yeah, ahh, try to make gentle circles," slipped faintly, as you started to roll nipples between your fingers.
His thumb pressed against your clit harder, making your feet curl and legs spread even wider. As if trying to invite his massive cock, that would surely rip you in half.
Maybe the fact that you couldn't touch each other wasn't that bad. Because if he somehow found a way to fuck you with this size, you sure would feel it up in your throat.
And thus you enjoyed the sight spreading in front of your eyes – his beefy thighs bulging whenever you jolted under his thumb, pearly cum dripping down the blue skin, long fingers squeezing the veiny meat as he still oh-so-carefully rubbed your clit.
"It's getting wetter," he noticed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I want to taste you."
His low voice made your body melt under his fingers, forcing your thighs to spread wider and wider, while chasing the pleasure bubbling in your belly. Your hole fluttered around nothing, and a sheer sight of his cock spun your mind in crazy wish to get yourself stretched around it. To feel every vein scratch your tight walls, till the drenched head would kiss your swelling womb.
"Fuck, wait, I have an idea," you backed out, crawling towards your bag.
Crazy, stupid, nasty plan slipped into your head, as you took out a mid-size, creamy dildo. With a sucking pad at the end, and a slightly curved head. It wasn't yours, as you somehow found it among the things… oh well, does it really matter? It was clean and had been bathed in antiseptic spray multiple times; thus, using it was not disgusting at all.
But when Satoru saw it, his breath hitched. Eyes slipped down to his cock, and forehead furrowed. "Why is it so small, question?"
You chuckled, sticking it to the crystal wall. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but that's the average size of a human's dick."
He followed your body as you once again spread your legs open and brushed the silicone cock through your folds a few times. Drenching it all in your juices, and Satoru, since learning the meaning of jealousy, felt something unpleasant bubble in his heart. Because he wished to be the one making your pussy flutter around his head and push it inside, till your sugary walls would clamp around his fat cock.
Your forehead furrowed, eyes glistened from prickling tears as his thumb once again landed on your clit. But this time, the pleasure was twice as intense. With a silicone dick stretching your tight pussy and his finger rubbing you in slow, maddening circles.
"I could make you feel better," he groaned, hearing another pitched moan slip past your lips. "This pathetic thing is now worthy to be inside my sweetheart."
With rising irritation, he pressed your clit harsher. Till a tremble washed over your body and back hit the mattress, as you rolled your cunt to feel the dildo go deeper. But Satoru was right – his cock would indeed make you feel better.
Your hands slipped up to your breasts, pinching the hard buds and chasing the maddening pleasure bubbling in your lower belly.
A deep frown creased Satoru's forehead, and he gently squeezed your clit. "I can't see your face."
"R-right, sorry–ahhh," A cry rolled off your tongue as you once again leaned on your elbows. "Satoru, it feels so good, mhmm."
His cock was more flushed than before, with a cherry tip spilling the heavy, thick droplets all over his hand. He pumped it madly, never once taking his eyes off your lovely face. With pleasure twisting your brows and teary eyes fixed upon his.
"S-Satoru, I, fuck, I'm going to cum," the silicone cock kissed your cervix, smooching it wetly with hefty, gluey cum sipping from your hole.
You tried to imagine getting split open on his cock. Being filled by his cum, with creamy saps stuffing your swelling womb and pumping your belly full. Getting manhandled by his muscular arms and wide back, as he would fold you into a mating press and push into the mattress. Till each and every spring would painfully dig into your spine.
So with a final cry, you came.
With a loud cry, spine arching into the sweetest curve, and a sprinkling of sweetness gushing all over his thumb, although it was a true pity that he couldn't feel it. Your body trembled and lips fell open, seeing a furrow cloud his forehead and fingers tightening around his cock.
And then, an idea slipped quietly into your mind.
"Wait a minute, don't cum yet," you muttered, taking a pair of panties lying on your bed. With a single, dirty move, you rubbed them against your drenched folds, gathering all the creamy cum and honeyed sweetness.
Satoru… dear heavens.
When a flimsy material landed inside the shelf, quite similar to the one he installed in a tunnel, Satoru's fingers snapped forward and snatched it. He brought it closer to his nose, lips, feeling your precious wetness and the rich flavour burst right onto his tongue, as a low, primal groan escaped his throat.
"Mhmm, s-so, ahh, tastes so sweet," a muffled cry was almost incomprehensible with your panties filling his mouth.
The head of his cock pulsed, massive balls constricted whenever his tongue took another lick of your fresh cum and eyes… oh, eyes stayed on you.
On your breasts coated in sheer sweat, thighs still spread open and a little, minx smile twisting your lips. Satoru was sure he could cum only at the sheer sight of your angelic face, and thus, after a few more harsh pumps and muffled cries, he came. Loud and heavy, with creamy ropes shooting all over his glimmering skin and fully emptying everything he has been keeping far too long.
What a waste, you both thought, wishing it landed somewhere far, far sweeter and warmer. Deep inside your womb, preferably.
A moment has passed, with a small bedroom filled with your heavy breaths and shy glances, looking everywhere but at your cum-coated bodies. With a faint cough, you finally closed your thighs and covered yourself with a blanket.
Blooming loveliness crept up your cheeks, and suddenly looking at Satoru required far more courage and calm than it had merely thirty minutes ago.
Before you could ask whether he needed a towel, his low voice spoke first. "Are we mates now, question?"
He said sheepishly, lifting your panties with a finger.
You groaned and fell on a mattress with his chuckle tickling your burning ears.
You didn't want to destroy this moment, even though you knew your mission would end with you dying in space. That he would go back to his planet safely, while you would float and float and float, while eventually dying of hunger.
And so, sharing this sweet moment of intimacy, with warmth spreading beneath your chest, you nodded. "Yes, Satoru. Let's become mates."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
The next few months were filled with nothing but joy.
With movies playing on repeat in the small, cinematic room, Satoru watches each of them with his lips agape. Enjoying the landscapes of Earth, you could project them into a closed space, with a blue sky spreading across the ceiling and tall Scottish plains stretching beneath your feet.
With the golden sand of Thai beaches shimmering in the sun and coconuts falling from the palms, the chirping of birds perched high in the lush trees of the Amazon Forest, and the endless plains of the Sahara Desert.
When you joked that the three pyramids in Giza you were just looking at were believed to have been built by aliens, he only hummed and nodded as if in agreement. A scoff rolled off your tongue, and his head snapped towards you.
"Why are you nodding? Of course they weren't!"
Plush, bluish lips curved in a sly smile. "Is sweetheart sure, question? It looks like something we have on our planet."
An unbelievable shock crossed your face as you stared at him, speechless. "No, you don't!"
"Yes, we do."
"You're fucking with me."
His head tilted. "I thought we can't fuck."
You rolled your eyes, resting your head against his shoulder. Or at least against the crystal surface he was pressed against. "Forget it."
"I can't, my memory is excellent."
And that was indeed true, as Satoru seemed to remember every single thing you said or did over the past few months. The plan you devised to obtain a sample of the planet's atmospheric gas to discover why it was immune to deadly microbes was etched into his mind with meticulous precision.
Truly mesmerising creature he was, especially as he also remembered which buttons to push, to make you cum faster.
What you had also discovered was that Satoru loved to talk about your future.
Particularly during the late nights, when you were curled up under the warm blanket, lying on a mattress in a dimly lit room, with him cuddled up against your side.
He couldn't brush your soft cheek pressed against the wall, but it was fine.
For the look of your lovely face, he watched with warmth blooming in his chest, was enough.
On such nights, when both of you longed for each other's warmth, he enjoyed dreaming. Of you returning with him to his planet, building you a small, private island with oxygen, and fulfilling all your wishes. You teaching the children of his species physics – as you did on Earth – and him continuing to serve as the most valued engineer on his planet.
Of you and him living together in a small seaside cottage, spending days loving each other and lying on the soft beach till darkness would spill over the ocean's horizon – the only his planet had, the one he was ready to fully give into your hands. Having sex all day and night, to which you responded with a sweet, faint giggle, as sleep slowly slipped into your eyes.
"And how would we do it, hm?" you mumbled, pressing against the crystal wall.
A soft furrow haunted your forehead, and he imagined calming it with a gentle roll of his thumb. "The atmosphere of my planet allows us to use a special technique," through the glass wall, he traced the curve of your lips. "It wraps my body in a thin barrier, but I would be able to touch you," soft lips touched to the point where your nose pressed. "And kiss you. And hug you, make love with you, although we wouldn't have children."
You understood why and giggled softly, slowly opening your sleepy eyes to meet the endless, pale blue. "You really want to get even closer, huh?"
It was a joke, and yet a warmth bloomed behind his spectral eyes, forcing your heart to skip a beat. His hand pressed to the part where your chest met the wall, before he leaned his forehead against "yours". "If I could, I would make you live inside me. So nothing in this universe would ever rip us apart."
A faint oh rolled past your lips as you bit on the soft inside of your cheek. "Satoru, I don't know how long your species live, but… I don't have as much time as you think."
A sudden panic swelled behind his eyes, and thumb slipped out of the crystal wall to brush your lower lip. "My best friends have been mates for the past hundred and sixty years. How many can you give me, question?"
Something ripped through your heart. Cut it with painful slashes, till a crease on your forehead deepened. "Not a lot, Satoru. Maybe seventy years?"
His thumb paused, an ache spreading across the vast, pale blue plains. "I've lived three hundred years without you," he said, warm lips pressing into the wrinkle between your "brows". "I won't survive another seventy."
But the endless honeymoon couldn't last long.
For there was a reason why both of you found yourselves in space. Why the mission was tagged as suicidal, and why there wasn't enough fuel to get you back to Earth. And while Satoru's dreams indeed sounded tempting, you knew that it simply wouldn't work out.
For you breathed oxygen, and he needed ammonia gas.
Your body stayed cool at thirty-six degrees Celsius, while his was burning up to over two hundred.
He was three hundred years old – you twenty-seven.
But he didn't have to know all of that. Over the past twenty-seven years, no one had made you laugh, enjoy, and love life as much as he did. Even if those brief moments of happiness were only meant to last a few months, they were enough.
After the mission, he could go back safely to his home, and you… well.
And you would need to watch him die.
It was truly unpredictable, and none of you could foresee how the situation would turn out. You finally arrived on the planet, prepared to collect the necessary samples of the antidote. You didn't know, however, how dense its atmosphere would be.
How the wind would violently hit your ship, tossing it sharply left and right as you stepped outside in your spacesuit and carried Satoru's sampling device back onto the ship.
He told you to leave it. When you almost fell off the ship, he begged you to come inside. Hit the wall with hands, screamed right into the speaker inside your helmet, pleaded to leave the sample and just come back.
But you simply couldn't do it. Because leaving it here, after Satoru spent decades in space trying to seek the solution, would be simply foolish. Egoistic, and thus, after a few harsh currents, you grabbed the box filled with antidote cells and went back to the ship.
But then, it started spinning. And spinning and spinning, wish wind smacking it in violent currents, and you found it almost impossible to get back onto the normal route. Every single light inside the control room shimmered red. Satoru tried to calm you down, but there was nothing he could truly do from behind the glass wall.
You pushed and flickered every button, every controller, but after one sudden, brutal tug of the ship, your face hit the console.
Eyes filled with red, a nasty crack came from the nose, and the gaze became a bit hazy. You tried to push one last button that would help the ship get away from the planet's strong current, but you were simply too weak. With blood slowly covering your whole face and belts still pinning you to the chair.
Satoru shouted something, but you couldn't hear him clearly. Was it because of the red lamps and an alarm filling the control room? Or maybe because of the sudden sleepiness that blanketed your eyelids?
His fists hit the glass wall, spreading the dull echo around the control room. A soft sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart rolled past his lips, but you simply had no energy to look up. As if you did, the sigh of his trembling, panicked face would rip your heart apart.
His large fists wanted to break through the wall, eyes looked at the blood dripping down your face, body filled with helplessness and desperation, trying everything in his power to get close to you.
With a single finger, you still strained to push that last red button. To get the ship back on track, at least allow Satoru to be safe, and finish the mission that would help save his planet. But your body couldn't handle the gravitational force caused by the spin, which pressed you into the console. The slow crushing of your lungs, mind filling with fogginess, throat crushed beneath the flickering buttons.
So with a soft, almost inaudible I'm sorry, your eyes closed.
A second has passed, a minute, with mind registering the crying alarm and… and a shatter of glass.
A sudden pain washed over your body – burning and stinging every nerve. Someone lifted you up, carefully, slowly, trying to wrap you in blankets and clothes, anything to keep you from the lethal touch.
Quiet, you'll live, sweetheart will live, sweetheart, sweetheart, keep your eyes open, amid violent waves of coughing and painful moans, filled the corridors of your spaceship. When your eyes opened a little, you saw nothing but thick steam evaporating from something.
Someone.
"Satoru?" slipped out in a whisper as, from beneath the curling steam, a blue, familiar face looked down at you, wet-cheeked. "Satoru, no, y-you'll die–"
"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay, it's okay, sweetheart will live," he repeated like a mantra, hugging your wrapped body closer to his.
Fiery skin burned through the thick layers of blankets, leaving burns all over your bloodstained skin. Your body hit something, and before you noticed, an automated medical care robot soon filled your vision. The mechanical arms pressed the oxygen mask to your face before an IV needle slipped beneath the skin of your arm.
"Satoru," you mumbled weakly, trying to find those familiar, pale eyes.
And he was right there, offering you the most painful, heart-tearing sight. Tears ran down his cheeks, white steam curled tortuously from his body, and gaze slowly grew weaker. He could barely breathe, yet still stood right there.
Over your barely warm body, making sure that you would live.
"I watch you–"
"No, S-Satoru," barely pushed through your squeezed throat. With crystal tears swirling in your eyes and fingers trying to push him away from the table. "Go back, p-please, or–"
"No, I watch you sleep." his fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt. "You won't die".
You were too weak to fight him. In too much pain, with your head pounding, skin burning from his touch and anaesthesia slowly kicking in.
And so, with a last look into the eyes your heart laughed for, you fell asleep.
There was no way to tell how much time had passed. How long you stayed under the mechanical clutches of the medical robot.
How long Satoru needed to suffer, to make sure you would be alive.
But when you finally woke up and ripped yourself away from the needles, he wasn't there.
He wasn't in your sight, but something else, something burned, marked the floor. Dark traces of blue dust led further inside the spaceship. Still weak, with the last traces of blood dried on your cheek, you followed them, your heart pounding. And a little grain of foolish hope bloomed inside your heart, fresh tears already swirling in the corners of eyes.
The ship was back on a normal route, carrying you through the galaxy at a slow, peaceful pace. Thanks to Satoru.
The blue dust led you through the control room, down into the basement, kitchen, bathroom, and finally to the bedroom, as if he tried to, for the last time, see every part of the ship. Just to make sure everything was working. That after waking up, you wouldn't have to bother yourself with anything.
And so another wave of crushing sob bubbled in your throat. A pain ripping you open as you entered your shared bedroom and saw him there – curled on the mattress, the upper part of his body already slipped inside his crystal corridor. As if he didn't have the strength to crawl in fully. Too busy watching you sleep.
"Oh, Satoru," a cry finally escaped your throat, as your knees bent beside his body. "You fool, so stupid, you're–oh!" A hysterical lament filled the small bedroom as you touched his cold body. "Satoru, how c-could you leave me alone?"
Face, always beaming with so much warmth and joy, lay in dead silence. With your loving, blue eyes closed behind the curtain of white lashes and lips more pale than usual.
Gathering every last ounce of strength still boiling in your body, you brought his ball back. In such a tight, ammonia-filled space, the chance of his recovery was much higher.
Opening it was almost impossible, so you cut a hole big enough to, with pain ripping through your muscles and sweat dripping down your spine, somehow push him inside. And then you glued the walls tight, with a prayer dripping off your lips, and your body cuddled into his crystal ball.
"I'll watch you sleep," you whispered, brushing the surface with his pressed cheek. "You won't die."
𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖
The sun spilling through the curtain tickled your cheeks. The chirping of birds made you sigh deeply, and the gentle sea breeze coated your skin with soft kisses. The shoulder, the soft line of the spine, the slightly sweating neck, with a salty fragrance slipping sweetly into your nostrils.
You tried to stretch, waking up your stiff body from a deep slumber, but something locked you in place.
Something heavy and long, curling around your waist and pulling you closer to another stony wall.
Or, maybe you should say, stony chest.
Looking over your shoulder, you've met with a cheeky smile curling your husband's lips and still-sleepy, pale eyes. He pulled you closer, until your head found itself under his chin and your legs entangled with his.
"Good morning," you giggled, turning in his arms. "Did you sleep well?"
Satoru hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The thin barrier wrapping his body glimmered under the spilling sunlight. After years on his planet, you no longer needed a translator to understand his language. And so you kissed his blue neck, tracing the kisses up, and up, along his jaw and chin, until finally locking your lips with his.
"Apologies, I didn't watch you sleep."
You chuckled, biting gently on his lower lip. "Were you that tired after last night?"
"Mmm," a soft, satisfied hum escaped his throat when you felt something hard poking your belly. "Forgive your husband, he didn't realise he had a tigress and no wife at home."
You chuckled sweetly, forcing his lips to curl in a sly smile.
"Does my wife need anything? Do you want Suguru to lower the temperature?"
Tracing the sharpness of his jaw, up to the curve of his lips, your head shook. "No, it's warm enough. Maybe you can ask him to lower the birds' chirping a bit. I think they're a bit louder than yesterday."
He nodded, pulling you even closer. Till your bodies tangled in one, and a slow, peaceful pounding of his heart beat against your breasts. "Mhm, sure. But let's sleep a bit longer, and then you can jump on me as much as you want, hm?"
So with the last, soft kiss between your brows and heart swelling from feeling the heaviness of your body on his, Satoru allowed you to cuddle into his muscular chest and watch him slowly slip into a deep slumber.
What's the safest place to hide away from the local sheriff? A brothel, of course! And for a famous female outlaw, Gojo Satoru, the safest place on earth is between your arms. And legs.
written for the Luci's Cowboy Culture event by @sextier
pairing: outlaw!femjo x prostitue!reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, wild west au, set in 19th century, wlw, fluff, smut, smut and a bit of plot, scarjo, lesbian sex, oral sex, fingering, scissoring, masc femjo (mmm), happy ending, Satoru is super rich in every universe
WC: 4k
a/n: yeehaw! Forgive me for any mistakes, I was proofreading it at 2 am.
dividers by @olenvasynyt and @strangergraphics
When Satoru visited you for the first time, dusk had already settled over the lively town.
Warm lamps hanging by the brothel swayed in the wind, carrying droplets of crimson sand. The smoke curled around your lips as you stood on your balcony, looking over the drunk cowboys and giggling soiled doves walking through the red-light district. Brothels after brothels, divided by saloons, lined up and blared loud, jumpy tunes.
A heavy scent of alcohol lingered in the air, and you sighed heavily as another client entered the big wooden building where you worked. As another soiled dove, although Madam tends to believe you were one of the most precious petals here.
The wooden floor crooked under your heels. Long, white dress draped in lace took in the dust settling in the corners of a small room, and a few loose strands of hair fell, hugging your overly powdered, too-blushed cheeks.
Another client would arrive any second, so you stubbed out the cigarette and went back into the room. Old whisky stood on your wooden cabinet, and you prepared the glasses. It was always a bit easier when you were slightly drunk, especially with those old, sweating cowboys.
The place you worked at remained one of the best-known among locals, but also… outlaws. Oh, there was no better place to hide from the sniffing sheriffs than under the long skirt of a sweet prostitute!
And so Madam always forced the outlaws to pay much, much more just to let them sleep a few nights. They usually left after a few days, but not before jolling, drinking and fucking with scarlet women who were more than happy to hear their thrilling stories.
Of long, vast travels around the country and of constant cat-and-mouse play with the law. Of nights spent sleeping under the naked sky and of mornings when they woke on yet another farm with yet another married birdie.
Some of them would show their scars – long cuts from knives and bullets that grazed their necks when husbands of those young girls suddenly came back home.
The prostitutes loved listening to those frivolous, lighthearted stories with deep longing coiling in their eyes. As most of them, including you, were simply poor women whose families found themselves in nasty money problems.
And what was the best way to pay the debt without a sweat?
Sell a daughter, of course!
Four years have passed since you found yourself here, with a body used by countless men every day and eyes losing their young, girlish shimmer. There was no telling when you would leave this place, or whether you would at all, as women of your sort were often taken from the sweetness of those filthy walls either dead or crippled.
The gentle knock on the doors pulled you out of dreadful thoughts before they opened with a soft creak.
Madam's old face slipped inside. "My dear, a special client for you," she murmured, and you knew another outlaw had visited the establishment.
A low sigh escaped your lips, and you nodded before walking out of the room. It was too dangerous to keep them in your regular bedrooms, so you followed Madam to the attic, where darkness spilt through the covered windows and only a few small rooms lay hidden behind the old walls.
Your fingers curled tighter around the small lamp as she opened one of the doors with a nasty creak. But before you could enter, her hand grabbed your arm.
"This one is… special. They paid quite a large sum to see you, and, well," something in her eyes glimmered, as if the nature of your client made her a little awkward. "Take good care of them. You've never worked with someone like that, but… well, you're a woman yourself."
And so she pushed you inside, before closing the door back.
The full moon bathed the room in cold kisses, and a few short candles gave it a cosy atmosphere. Heavy, crimson materials draped the walls and the bed, which stood lonely near the wall.
But the moment you entered, your eyes fell immediately on him.
Or… her?
Slim back was covered by a flannel shirt, long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Lean legs dressed in old jeans, with classic, leather shoes wrapping her calves.
The brown hat lay on the small desk, and you could see the short white hair shimmering like cream in the pale moonlight. At first, she stood facing away from you, but when her eyes finally met yours… heavens.
Your lips fell slightly open as you saw the crystal-blue orbits, with a cheeky, warm smile curving her cherry cheeks.
She was oh so beautiful, with milky skin and the most lovely, sharp face you've ever seen. Multiple scars slashed her face, crossing her cheeks, chin, and lips, with a long, nasty one going right through her right eye. Something cheeky danced in her gaze as she scanned your frozen body from head to toe. Dressed in a loose-fitting white gown without a corset, to allow easier access for the client's sticky fingers.
But her fingers looked clean, kind, and gentle, and thus a sudden warmth spread across your cheeks at the thought of spending the night with her.
"You don't look scared, dove," a low voice filled the small space, as she leaned over the window. "Used to outlaws coming and going?"
You coughed faintly, leaving the lamp on the drawer. Two clean glasses and a half-empty bottle of whisky were already there. You took the nasty liquid and poured it with trembling hands.
"Well, our place is one of the few hideaways for people of your sort. Although…" you looked back at her, noticing the same cheekiness coiling in her gaze. "I've never met with a woman."
She pushed away from the window frame, slowly coming your way. Heavy leather boots clicked on the wooden floor, and only now did you notice how tall she was.
Tall and rather muscular, and if not for the face of a true sweetie and breasts bulging beneath the flannel, you would surely take her for a man.
"Do you mind?" she asked, taking a glass of whisky from your hand.
The crystal cups clinked in silence, and you took a small sip, not taking your eyes off her face. "I don't. I've never been with a woman, but I'm a quick learner."
Her blue eyes narrowed, lips curling with a hum. "Madam said you're the best dove here," she whispered, lifting her hand to curl a soft strand of your hair around her finger.
You could feel the warmth beaming off her chest. The fragrance of bonfire smoke, sweat and something sugary. Wrapping around your heart, filling it with something balmy and pleasurable, making your heart leap a little faster.
You've never taken clients' compliments seriously. They were sweet, yes, sometimes even rather filthy, and those you usually ignored with a smile, but with her, it was different.
In a way, she looked at you – with gentleness, patience, something warm and yet lined with hunger. When her finger brushed your cheeks, you shivered.
"Are you nervous?" she cooed slyly, sending another wave of heat down your spine. "We don't have to do it."
You shook your head, nuzzling into her hand. "That's what you paid for. How can we not?"
"I don't mind. Spending time in your presence is enough," her words carried sincerity, and something in your gut told you she really wouldn't mind paying solely for your company. But you… you were curious.
And when her thumb brushed your lower lip, you gladly wrapped your lips around it, sucking gently as your warm tongue slid down her long digit and along your cheeks. She hummed lowly, and her crystal eyes shimmered as she looked at the way you glanced at her from below, with the sweetest doe eyes and cherry lips sucking on her lone finger.
You pulled back with a pop. "I want to," you rolled, nuzzling into her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. "But you need to teach me how."
She chuckled, stepping closer. Crystal eyes flicked between the open cleavage of your flimsy dress, with breasts spilling over the white lace, and the eyes, shining like the evening's moon. Round and pleading, with the sweetest innocence she had ever seen in a whore.
There was angelic loveliness in your hearty face, and yet she knew that casting wicked, love-spells must've been your speciality.
Especially with people like her – yearning for the warmth and delicate touch of a woman after months on the road.
"I thought you were supposed to do the job, dove," she brushed away a few stray locks of your hair before cupping your face. "But if you want me to take the lead, I will gladly serve you. My lady."
A second later, with a gentle flicker of a candle, her lips crashed against yours. In a gentle, sweet, yet ravishing kiss as she curled her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrapped yours around her neck, forcing her to lean down, and closing your lips again, and again, and again, as her tongue smooched the inside of your mouth and throat, drinking in your soft moans.
You could feel her scars bulging under your tongue when you licked her lower lip with a faint moan.
She tasted of whisky and sugar, and maybe it was the first time you truly enjoyed the kiss. It was nasty in its own pleasurable way, making your thighs clench with warmth and breath hitch.
You started walking her back towards the bed until the backs of her knees hit the edge; she sat down. Your hips quickly climbed over hers, rolling the dress up until the thin gown folded around your hips. Long, lacy knee socks wrapped your legs, and she moaned as the fat of your thighs spilled over the flimsy material.
"I can't believe some nasty bastard could have this," she groaned, cupping the swell of your ass. Her long fingers dug deeper, squeezing the skin and rolling your hips against her. "How many clients do you have every night, hm? One, two? I paid for two full days in advance, so no one else will touch you."
You cried as her lips slipped down your chin and neck, licking it gently and sucking on the delicate skin of your throat.
"Mmm–"
"Satoru," she whispered, before placing another kiss under your jaw. "Call me Satoru, dove."
And then, as if a bucket of cold water had run down your cheeks, it finally flickered.
The posters, glued all over the town, with those milky strands peeking from every corner, eyes hidden behind a brown hat.
Gojo Satoru.
The first and most famous female outlaw, wanted for multiple train robberies, bootlegging, gunfights, and, most of all, for the massive accumulation of gold.
It was difficult to tell whether she truly was as rich as everyone said, but the way her fingers gripped you with unwavering confidence, and eyes drank in the softness of your face, told you that she indeed was someone.
She chuckled, sensing a shiver run down your spine. "So you've heard of me, my lady?"
Her fingers tug at the flimsy material covering your breast, and with a single move, it slipped off your arms.
A low, "Fuck," rolled, when she wrapped her lips around your perked nipple. Another hand squeezed the other tit, rolling the hardened bud between her fingers. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to get drunk on," she smiled, looking up from a curtain of long lashes.
"Ah–Satoru, mmmm," you cried, feeling the warmth of her mouth spilling around your breasts. "There's s-still whisky if you want."
She chuckled, biting gently on your nipple till your back arched. "My lady, I wasn't talking about the whisky."
A quiet oh slipped past your lips when you understood. Her hand pulled you closer, letting her face dive into your soft breasts. Warm tongue curled, lapped, and tickled your swollen buds as she moved between them, letting out low pops and groans.
For the first time in your life, you truly started taking pleasure from such intimacy. Your hips rolled against her as if seeking some kind of traction that would let your squeezing cunt spill its sweet juices. Flimsy panties were completely drenched, sticking to your swollen folds.
You didn't know whether to focus on her heavy gaze pinning you down to her thighs or lips sucking on the plush breasts. With low moans and squeezes of your fat, as you tried to push yourself into her mouth.
"S-Satoru," you whispered shyly, trying to push her onto the bed. "Let me take care of you. I should be the one doing it."
But instead of letting her back hit the mattress, she quickly curled your arms around your waist and changed position. Letting your hair spill all over the soft bedding and thighs spread wide open.
"I paid quite a hefty sum, my Lady. Why won't you let me do what I want, hm?" Her thumb traced the drenched material of your panties, pushing the swollen clit through the lace, before rolling them off your trembling thighs. "Fuck, my lady. Are you always this wet?"
"N-no, I've never-ah!," a sweet cry slipped out, when her fingers spread your folds. "I've never felt anything like that."
Crystal eyes flickered to your teary face. "Never?"
You shook your head. "No, I've never taken any pleasure from sex."
And it seemed that your words must have snapped something inside her mind. As a low my god rolled past her lips, and she quickly started undressing herself. The flannel shirt revealed reddened breasts with rosy, hard nipples and multiple scars decorating her chest, belly, and shoulders.
When the trousers slipped down the long legs, you noticed another slash, and your heart squeezed in pain upon seeing how much she truly had to suffer.
And yet, a wicked smile curved her lips as she saw your big, pleading eyes fixed on her heavy, milky breasts.
"Are you okay, dove?" she asked, jumping off her jeans before rolling down the flimsy panties too.
Oh, you were not okay.
In fact, you were rather anything but okay, with thighs still spread wide open, breasts spilling from the tight robes, cheeks smooched with cherries and a lovely gaze looking down at her pussy. You bit down on your lower lip as she moved closer, joining you on a bed.
The white dress slipped off your body, leaving you bare and breathless beneath Satoru's silky fingers.
"So beautiful," she whispered, leaning in to kiss your fallen lips. "The most beautiful dove I have ever seen."
Her lips travelled down your chin, neck, breasts, wrapping around your perked buds again before kissing your plush belly. She bit down on a little roll, making you squirm under her cheeky fingers, spreading your thighs open.
Folded in half, you tried to look down at how dangerously close she was to your leaking cunt. With lips kissing the mound, before slowly, slowly, finally, curling around your clit. Her tongue plastered itself to your cunt, giving her a long, nasty lick.
And it was… dear heavens.
Maddening, mind-clouding, pushing out a high-pitched moan from your lungs, as if you had kept it there for the past two decades. Her soft strands tickled your thighs, and she looked absolutely mesmerising – with her chin already drenched in your juices and forehead creased with pleasure.
As if lapping around your folds and slurping on sugary cum was enough to give her pleasure.
"My lady, fuck, you're so delicious," she moaned straight into your cunt, sending a trembling wave right into your clit. "If the sheriff were to come in right this second, he would not be able to pull me away from this sweetness."
Your cheeks burned upon hearing filth slipping past her lips, but you were too weak to say anything. With mind clouded by pleasure and back arching off the mattress, upon feeling her lips sucking on your clit and tongue gathering the sticky cum.
When a single finger slipped in, you cried miserably, finally lifting yourself onto your shoulders. From this perspective, the view of her creamy, arched back and the swell of her ass was even better.
Starving moans escaping her throat filled the bedroom, as she scooped a hefty cum from your walls and drank it madly. Your swollen clit was ready to burst any second – bending, crying, burning under her tongue.
"S-Satoru, mhmm, so g-good," you moaned, rolling your hips against her plastered tongue. Moving with desperate, aggressive urgency, gripping her hair and pulling her even closer. Although closer was indeed not possible, as Satoru was already nose-deep between your folds. "Breath, oh God, Satoru–ahhh!"
She pulled away with a faint pop, before a second finger slipped in. "My lady, suffocate me with your thighs, I don't care," she mewled, eyes completely lost. As if the sweetness of your cunt truly made her drunk! "Ride my face, dove, come on," she wrapped her lips around your clit, before you started rolling your hips again.
And only then have you noticed that Satoru's second finger travelled down, down her body, right into her leaking cunt. She pinched her clit while wrapping lips around yours, as if trying to synchronise the pleasure washing over both of your spines. A hefty pool of cum was dripping down the bedding, and you whimpered miserably, seeing a waste of such sweetness.
"Let me taste you," rolled quietly, and she looked up. "I want to taste you too."
She chuckled before lifting drenched hand up to your lips. Her long fingers were glued with strings of silky cum, stretching between the slim digits, and when you wrapped your lips around one, another wave of pleasure tickled your skin.
Honeyed delicacy spilt on your tongue, and a cry rolled again, feeling the sudden warmth pooling in your lower belly. "Satoru–mhmm–let me, ahh, let me eat you out."
"Next time, dove," she murmured, before pulling away. Two fingers still abused the soft spot inside you with brutal tenderness. She knew how to drive you over the edge and still caress your body with gentleness. "I have a better idea."
When her fingers suddenly pulled out of your soft walls, a lovely pout twisted your lips. She chuckled, leaning in to give you a short, sweet kiss. "Don't worry, my lady. I think you'll like it."
And before you noticed it, her milky thigh slipped over yours, pushing you into a rather weird yet oh so nasty position. With her drenched pussy glued to yours, letting your juices mix. A little, sweet clit perked from between her folds, and you reached to roll her gently between your fingers.
"Ahh! My lady–" Satoru sighed, allowing you to do it again.
And again, again, till she herself started to wave her hips and seek the friction of your soft pads. The loveliest moans slipped past her lips, and thus, you could finally cherish the crease of her forehead and the beads of sweat coating her bouncing breasts.
But then she pulled your hand away, letting your folds connect once again. Your swollen, trembling clits brushed against each other, and both of you moaned before she started moving.
In harsh, mean rolls, filling the room with filthy squelches and smearing your cunt in her juices. Her sticky, sweet nectar dripped down your folds, clit, before slipping warmly into your tightening hole. You always detested clients who wished to fuck you raw, and yet your spine tingled and the feeling of her warm cum filling your hole,
She spread your legs even wider, allowing herself to sit on your pussy with a full weight, till not even a finger could slip past your connected folds.
Her hardened clit smooched yours in harsh, slippery friction, making your mind spill and toes curl in maddened pleasure. The wetness coiling in your lower belly was dangerously close to spilling, and when she reached towards your nipples, your back arched.
"Satoru, mhmm, I'm s-so–" slipped drunkenly. "Feel so good, s-so–ah–good."
She chuckled, but you've noticed how close she was too. With lips fallen open and gaze fixed on your hearty face, haunted by pleasure. Crystal eyes shimmered, and she would not lie, saying that the pleasure taken from seeing your teary face was already enough to push her over the edge!
"I'll pay for you," she suddenly muttered, rolling her hips even faster. Her clit rubbed against yours, sticky juices coated your cunt with hers, and this feeling alone was loosening the knot in your belly. "I'll pay for your freedom, so fuck, run away with me. I have a small farmhouse, down south. We can, ahhh, live there in peace. No one will find us."
You felt too fucked to truly understand her words, but your heart swelled with hope nonetheless. She wasn't the only client who promised such dreams, but the first to state them with such seriousness.
With this haunting look in her eyes, taking you in like the most precious treasure. With her fingers caressing your skin so tenderly, as if handling something of utmost delicacy, and her lips peppering your skin with the most loving kisses.
And so when her finger slipped down your pussy and pushed your clit for the one last time, you cried pitifully, gushing all over her cunt. Her breath hitched, and a sweet, low moan slipped past her lips, before you felt the wetness of her cum spurring all over yours.
It was messy, raw, with her squirting mixing with yours and heavy breaths fogging the small room bathed in candle-warmth.
The pleasure coiled beneath your skin, biting raw into your feverish flesh. When she leaned down to kiss you, something in your mind forced you to say, "Yes."
As the truth was that even if at risk, the vision of running away with this woman made your heart beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.
She kissed you again, and again, whispering softly let's run, together, I promise to treat you kindly, while her juices were still mixing with yours, and hips rolled slowly. Your fingers wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer as if wishing to hide beneath her skin.
The closeness you shared simply wasn't enough.
And so the next two days you've spent rolling in bed, with your lips between her folds and hers on yours. Sometimes she would push you into the most extravagant position, force you to ride her fingers like a true cowgirl while sucking sweetly on your bouncing tits.
You laughed and talked, inside the small room that counted days of her departure and of your freedom. She told you more about the promised farmhouse – the animals, warm garden, sunsets spreading over the porch, smooching the sky in crimson hues. About all the bank robberies and the times she almost got caught, tracing softly all the scars coating her body and telling the story of each. About her dear friends and all the gold she has gathered, as if still trying to convince you that life with her will be good.
But you didn't need to be convinced, as the single look into her loving eyes was enough.
And so, on the third day, you woke without her by your side. The bed was frozen cold, even though the summer couldn't be any warmer.
Your heart leaped into your throat at the sight of her things being gone. The hat, the flannel shirt, and the small bag she had brought with her.
A panic rose in your chest as you looked around the tiny room. In search of something, anything, just to make sure that she, in fact, hadn't left you here.
In a place where you would surely die.
After a moment, something white has caught your attention. A neat, creamy sheet of paper, lying folded on the bedside of an old wooden drawer.
You took it with shaking fingers before finally releasing a deep, teary sigh.
Everything is settled, dove. Meet me tonight at midnight behind the back door. Don't bring much. My heart needs only you.
Yours, Satoru
And thus the promise of evenings filled with orange sunset hues and hours spent peacefully on a porch suddenly became sharper.
As your young, fair heart needed nothing, no one, but a woman who spent half her stolen fortune to set her dove free.
Sirens are dangerous and deceptive beings. Especially dangerous to naive sailors, particularly for men. And as it seems, Choso is no different. Because as soon as he hears your lovely call, he's willing to risk death just to feel your warmth. Even for a second.
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
Requested (pray forgive me for such a long wait!)
˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Sailor!Choso x Siren!Reader ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ : set in Ancient Greece : inspired by Greek Mythology : filth with plot : heavy smut : heavy breeding kink : whimpering Choso : siren pussy : mating : reverse knotting (???) : mating press : Choso is miserable as always : oral sex (both ways) : cum overflow : cum eating : belly bulge : happy ending : aphrodisiac puss : 6k words ꒱
˖𖦹 ݁˖ note: If you see me uploading it for the second time – no you don't (I may or may not have accidentally deleted the og post). A warm thank you to my real-life friends who sat with me in a bar and discussed how to describe the siren's pussy. I think it's the most filthy thing I've written so far. Also, a quick note, in Greek Mythology, sirens are half women, half birds, but I decided to keep the classic mermaid look!
dividers by @diviniyae and @solitary-serendipity
art by F_tality0 on X
Poseidon was enraged that night.
Breeze, always so gentle and kind, smacked the pirates' cheeks all night as the massive ship swam through the restless darkness. The mast was almost broken, bending under the powerful wind that gusted madly across the Aegean Sea, with tall waves and salty foam slipping onto the half-wrecked ship.
They weren't going to make it. For the first time in years of sailing, the captain truly believed that they weren't going to make it.
The ship was barely standing, traded goods hidden neatly below the deck, yet waves of foaming salt were constantly filling the vessel with its unmatched weight. It was getting heavier and heavier, slowly dipping into the relentless liquid till everyone gathered up on a deck, with fifty or so pirates praying for mercy.
To Poseidon, as only he could hear their pleas and still the madness of the waters. Never in over five years of their journeys had they encountered a storm like this. Rough, almost barbarous, as if God himself wished to wipe them from the earth.
Another wave spilt over the wooden edge, washing over a dozen or so sailors, wet and desperate, looking out for any haven. With almost a broken mast, they were already in a lost position, and yet through drenched lashes, with hands covering their eyes from the heavy, cold rain, they looked out.
And looked, looked, until a scream had slashed through the air, carrying the hope all these men waited for. "Captain, there's an island!"
Choso quickly looked up, chestnut eyes struggling to see through the thick fog and pouring rain that stung his cheeks with their mischievous giggles. Wet, dark hair clung to his forehead as his eyes finally caught a large shadow, bending and curving in front of his wet gaze.
He should be happy, just like other men, as a sudden hope appeared, yet something in his chest tightened. But Choso, a long-time experienced captain, knew that an island in the middle of the sea meant nothing good.
In fact, he could already sense it, see it. The rocky edges of the small isle. Sharp and shimmering under the pale moonlight, lighted solely by its cold beams and lightnings slashing the enraged sky.
He could see the foam swelling near the ship, with pearly scales appearing here and there, coating the full length of heavy tails.
He could hear the melody, carried by the storm, right towards their ship. Like birds chirping, the glazed sweetness that warmed the shivering hearts of sailors and lulled them into the clutches of deadly creatures.
Choso has never met the sirens, although he had seen them.
The enchanting, nymph-like beings frolic near the seaside, giggling and singing softly as they bathed on the warm rocks. Their skin always shimmered like gold under the warm rays of sunshine, reflecting off the crystal droplets coating their bodies.
The creatures of utmost beauty and lethal nature. Nightmares of every passing ship. One of the few divinities a mortal could actually meet, yet everyone who tried to ogle them from the dense forest, lurking at their gleaming bodies dipping into the sea, would surely end up dead.
But not Choso.
He, somehow, as a simple sailor with only a few foolish things to his name, managed to get close to those mysterious beings. Close enough to smell their skin – the scent of a sweet ocean breeze and sweat, as they soaked in the sun all day. To hear their lovely hums without going absolutely mad, and to cherish them while watching from behind the massive boulders. Big enough to cover his body completely and let him hold dear this special moment.
As myths and legends of forbidden love always go, there was one most enchanting siren, whom the poor sailor couldn't keep his eyes off.
The one, whose tail shimmered the brightest, covered in lovely pinkish scales woven with golden thread. With skin soft as flowery petals, although he never touched it with his own, calloused fingers. With a voice so lovely it lulled him to sleep, whenever he came to the seaside on late, late nights.
When nothing but the gentle waves and low hum of crickets filled the humid air.
He could be more daring. Braver, lurking behind the boulder with his gaze fixed on your body spread out on the sand and the turtles sleeping peacefully near your tail. Cherish the longing melody directed at the moon, as you sang it loudly and clearly, filling Choso's ears with the sweetest ambrosia.
Nights like this were always his favourite. Making his heart swell with a certain pride, as if he were a chosen one. The only one who could hold you dearly in his own, foolish way – never making a step, never saying a word.
But it was enough. He simply didn't need more.
And you… You seemed not to care about him at all.
Even if you sensed his presence, it seemed that this foolish sailor boy was of no danger or harm. As long as he was simply there, lurking from between the trees without sticky hands trying to grab you or your sisters, there was no need to kill him.
And thus, simply because of it, Choso started believing that the heavens had blessed him. Allowed to be the only mortal who could get close to such deadly and mysterious creatures as the daughters of the sea.
But then the storm came as he and his crew crossed the Aegean Sea and aimed for Athens. The journey was long and tricky, yet they finished it time and time again, always without a sweat and with goods delivered on time.
None of them expected the sudden hurricane, which raised the crystal waves to meters high and swelled beneath their ship. But even this would be manageable. At some point, the waters would calm down, and Choso with his crew would find their way to the shore.
Now, however, with the devilish melody slipping warmly into his men's minds, Choso knew that it was over. For the sirens' voice was more treacherous than Poseidon's wrath. A spell of the most unkind sort, luring the foolish man into their warm, open arms, only to sink their teeth deep into the flesh.
With fifty men on the ship, there was no chance for Choso to save everyone. Nevertheless, he needed to try.
"Close your ears," his shout tried to rip itself through the eruption of clashing waves. "The sirens are here, close your ears! Don't listen to them!"
His men started to panic, with low, frightened tremblings filling the drenched deck.
"Sirens? How is it possible?"
"Dear Gods, save us!"
"What Gods? No one will help us! That's it, we're done here!"
The terror grew as the haunting melody sharpened and became more distinct, as if a dozen or so sirens circled the ship. Choso stood on the deck, watching the shimmering tails and wet heads slipping from the tall waves. One more lovely than another, with long, flapping tails and warm eyes fixed on their prey.
With his hands covering ears, he couldn't hear much, and yet the sight of pearly smiles and soft arms stretched towards them was enough to feel the urge to jump right into their loving clutches. To feel the sweetness of their kisses on his cheeks, delicate fingers wrapping around his neck with the utmost fondness, till at last sharp teeth would dig into his body and take it deep under the sea.
As the ship drew nearer to the stony island, he finally realised that the helmsman, immersed in the melody, was completely lost. With both hands on the wooden wheel and a foggy gaze, he had no thoughts, steering the vessel directly toward the sirens' isle.
"No," Choso gasped, running towards the wheel. "No, fuck, wake up!" he screamed and screamed, but nothing could mute the sirens' sweet voices.
The melodic come to me, sweetheart, and, I'll treat you well, darling, or, come closer, fill me with your love. Sometimes it would be only the singing, sweet and treacherous, with a maddening power to possess the men's simple minds.
Choso shoved the helmsman aside and hurried to cover his ears.
He looked around and saw utter chaos. A few men took cover in the wet corners of the ship, clutching their heads and praying fervently. Others jumped off the deck, heading straight for the siren's open arms, foolishly lured by the sweet and tempting promises they had convinced themselves of.
The bodies fell one by one, and soon a wave of screams rose from the pearly foam, as the crystal waters turned crimson. Sirens' strong hands sank the sailors, only to rise to the surface again and wait for another fool.
The helmsman curled under the wheel as Choso took over the steering.
And that was his biggest mistake.
As he took his hands off his ears, all the melodic whispers and giggles suddenly reached him. Loud and clear, one voice sweeter than the other, choking him with an overwhelming power until breathing alone became too difficult. A warmth spread all over his chest, as if the sole sensuality of the voices made his heart beat faster and his skin coat in sweat. The heat hit his cheeks, fever broke, but it wasn't caused by sickness, no.
But by all the devilish oaths, hitting him like an aphrodisiac and pulling towards the ship's edge. He tried to fight the filthy warmth filling his body. The need to jump overboard and nuzzle into the sirens' warm, plush skin.
He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to get the ship away from the stony island. The storm was ravaging the vessel, and yet it seemed that the brutal wind finally started to bend under his pleas. He rolled the wheel, and rolled, and rolled, till the massive, wooden structure slowly turned back towards the open sea.
Men were jumping one after another, and he estimated that half of the crew was already dead. Sirens circled the ship tighter, voices even-pitched, sweeter, making him tremble from the overwhelming heat.
But he was strong, Choso had believed. He could fight them, as no woman was able to make him mad enough to force him to jump overboard. Saving his life was far more crucial than those few, mere seconds of pleasure spent in sirens' arms.
With fingers clutching the wheel and the storm still fierce, he steered the ship away from the island into the endless sea. Pale moonlight struggled to pierce the thick clouds overhead, while ghostly lightning forked across the sky, illuminating his rain-slicked face.
He screamed to his men, telling them to hang in there, to stay calm, hoping that a few of them who still nuzzled into the dark corners of the ship wouldn't go absolutely mad. Sirens sang louder, and Choso thought with nail and tooth to keep his mind clear. But the lustful fever was making him weak, melting his body into a trembling mess, until he needed to grip the wheel tighter to keep from falling.
And then…
Then the catastrophe came.
"Sailor boy," whirled in the air, reaching his ears. His body suddenly froze, eyes widened. "Sailor boy, come here."
The voice was distinct from the others – sweeter, kinder, with a silky undertone that pierced straight to his heart.
"Sailor boy, I know you're there," a melody rumbled through his body once again, forcing Choso to let go of the wheel.
Driven by madness, he slowly moved down the deck, sneakily gliding over the ship's edge. The dark, infinite sea stretched out before him, with pearly waves crashing against each other. Among other lurking sirens, with giggles and claws poised to seize his lustful body – there was you.
Calm and beautiful, with wet hair curling around your cheeks and slightly lidded eyes looking up at him. Water dripped down your shell-covered breasts, and moonlight bounced off the wet skin.
Your gaze carried a kind of grace – patient, almost trusting. And the longer Choso kept looking at you, the more he leaned further forward. Raven hair sticking to his damp neck, lips fallen open, as he tried to fight the heat bubbling in his loins.
"My sailor boy," you chirped, spreading your arms open. Towards the sky, him, with a lovely smile and a little tilt of your head. "Come to me, sailor boy. I know you wish to."
His fingers gripped the wooden side tighter. Till knuckles went white, and breath slipped with a shudder. Wind smacked his cheeks, rain filled the fallen lips as he still, with trembling eyes and body bent in half, looked at your waiting arms.
He wondered how soft your skin would be and what you would taste like if he tried to caress your lips with his. How far underwater would you take him before choking him to death and leaving his body behind, just like you did with all the other men?
Would you devour him right away, or perhaps cherish every piece of his muscular body, which he was ready to offer you on a plate?
Or maybe, just maybe, with gentle fingers, you would first trace his cheeks, gazing deeply into the warm chestnut of his eyes as if meeting a lover’s stare. Run your fingers through his hair and softly press your lips to his, patiently awaiting his response – longing for him to deepen the kiss with the desire of one tempted by forbidden fruit, mindful of the inevitable consequences.
The rest of the crew watched him in fright, yet no one dared to step any closer to the edge. For the captain seemed to fight something none of them could help him with. Something so deeply etched into his chest that he could only grip the deck tighter and lean on the line between life and death.
But then your arms opened even wider, lips curled mischievously, gaze flickered. "My sailor boy, my dearest," the voice suddenly became lower, with the sensual cheekiness swirling in his mind. "Come to me. Let me love you."
Amidst the frightened screams of the crew and the wind whipping his cheeks with sharp, rainy gusts, Choso jumped.
Into the arms of a woman who suddenly turned him into a madman.
𖦹 𖦹 𖦹
He woke up with a sudden realisation that he could still breathe. His body didn't hurt as much as he thought it would after being devoured by a siren, and solely a light pain pulsed on his face.
He raised hand, touching the long, bloody slash marking his nose and cheeks. An ache flickered under his fingers, leaving the crimson, still slightly wet liquid on soft pads.
Moonlight slipped sheepishly through the small opening above, and only then did he realise he had been dragged into the cave. The sand beneath his body was still wet, soaked by the clothes that had weighed him down. He clearly remembered the moment his body touched the cold sea, sinking quickly before a pair of gentle arms pulled him back to the surface.
But the rest of his memory faded, and the bloody mark on his nose was likely caused by a severe blow to his head.
It pulsed a bit, but he was too excited by the thought of still being alive to care about such a minor issue.
He gradually sat up, glancing around the small cave by the seaside. Gentle waves quietly lapped inside, flowing over the golden sand and touching his bare feet. The moonlight glinted brightly in the clear, dark sky, and the warm night air caressed his flushed cheeks. It appeared that, in the end, he wasn't on the rocky siren island, and a breath of relief escaped his lips.
A relief mixed with panic.
Because you weren't here.
He once again looked around, noticing how shallow the cave was. The back wall, covered in slimy seaweed, shimmered under the moonlight, carrying the salty, slightly rotten smell of fish. But nowhere in the cave could he spot the familiar pinkish scales.
"Looking for me, sailor boy?"
His head snapped back towards the entrance.
And there you were – smiling slyly, wet hair cascading down your back, head tilted slightly. You lay on your belly, resting chin on your palm, with long tail swaying back and forth, droplets of crystal-clear water dripping from the soft scales.
A sweet giggle bounced off the stony walls as you looked at Choso's lips fallen open. "Why? Aren't you happy to see me?"
His throat bobbed, fingers gripped the wet sand. "N-No, it's just…"
Too distracted, he struggled to carve into his mind every small detail of your face. His gaze fixated on your lovely eyes, veiled by a gentle fog, where the irises and whites blurred together, almost resembling a spectre. He noticed the gentle curve of your lips and cheeks, which held a slight warmth. Your ears, bent into an eerie shape, slightly pointed and much thinner, added a little uncanny look to your lovely face.
And yet, his breath hitched, and something heavy bubbled beneath the chest. "Why didn't you kill me?"
A sweet hum filled the wet cave, broken only by waves clashing gently against your splayed body. "Would you prefer that, sailor boy?"
"No, i-it's just…" Choso desperately searched for words, but his mind was still as if under the influence of your bewitching spell. "Thank you." That's all he could say, trembling under the heavy gaze of yours.
Lying in front of his seated form, your finger brushed his calf. "It's too early to thank me. You still don't know why I decided to keep you alive."
Heavy muscles bulged under the milky, slightly damp skin, curling around his thick calves and up to beefy thighs. A giggle slipped past your lips as you saw another bulge straining his woollen tunic. With a wetness padding the cloth, trembling slightly whenever your nail marked his skin.
Your fingers travelled up, up, skimming the calves, knees, and thighs, as he slowly spread them open. Chestnut eyes followed your gradually approaching body, crawling closer towards him. Heavy tail dragged on the soft sand as you slowly slipped out of the water.
Leaning on his arm, he gripped the sand harder, ogling carefully the mischievous loveliness twisting your lips.
"Ask me," you whispered, nuzzling into his thigh. Fingers slipped under the woollen cloth, pinching the soft skin. "Ask me why I saved you."
"Why d-did you save me?" he could barely breathe, feeling your digits dangerously too close to his leaking cock.
And then, he felt it. Your thumb pressing onto the wet head, teeth biting gently into the inside of his thigh. A cry rolled out of his lips, little grains of sand dug painfully into his palms.
"I think you're cute," slipped in a giggle, as you licked the bitten skin sweetly. He whimpered lowly, and you noticed crystal droplets swirling in his eyes. "And I need something from you."
But before Choso could ask what, your head slipped under his woollen robes. And then, something in his mind exploded. Sudden pleasure washed over his spine as your lips curled around his cock with a lovely hum, fingers squeezing the pulsing base.
"W-Wait– Ahhh!" his hand landed on your head, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to push you away. Instead, he brushed your hair away, letting himself take a closer, better look at your lovely face.
There was something utterly filthy in the way your pointy ears shivered every time another moan slipped past his lips. How your scales seemed to glow even lighter when his fingers skimmed through your neck, thumb brushing the warm cheek bulging with his feverish head.
You drank the pearly cum swirling on the tip of his cock with a hum before taking him in deeper. Till he could feel the end of your warm throat and muscles tightening around the fat shaft. Delicate fingers played with his balls, and a sudden cry ripped past his lips when you gave them a soft squeeze.
"M-my Goddess–" this time, he tried to push you away, feeling the dangerous heat once again coiling in his loins. "I c-can't, it's too–mhmmm–"
A sudden embarrassment hit his flushed cheeks at the thought of coming that fast. Needing nothing but a single luscious glance of yours and lips locking on his cock. Your head bobbed in frenzied movements, with low hums going straight into his pulsing cock and sending a wave of trembling pleasure down his spine. Nose tickled his pubes, saliva dripping down the veiny shaft, drenched in the honeyed sweetness of your mouth.
Pulling out with a soft pop, your gaze locked with his. "I'm not a Goddess, sailor boy," Choso wished to disagree, but your lips crashed against his. In a quick yet messy kiss, as you bit his lower lip, leaving him with a metallic sweetness and the musky smell of his cock. "But for now, call me whatever you want. As long as you'll give me this," your fingers once again squeezed his tightening balls.
Choso felt dumbfounded, madly besotted, with heart-shaped irises fixed on your face and lips slightly parted. "You want…" he barely pushed, not quite sure whether you were thinking the same thing.
But you nodded gently, giving his cock another squeeze. The flushed head was seconds away from busting, and you could see the milky trace of sticky cum coat the hardened tip.
"Give me a baby," slipped smoothly like a dream, causing Choso to blush deeply. Your hands curled behind his neck, then you pulled him closer, drawing him nearer as you slowly reclined, shifting your positions. "You're such a pretty, pretty boy," your warm thumb brushed his rosy cheek. "Can you do it for me? Do you want to make me pregnant, sailor boy?"
And Choso, with your tail between his thighs and your lovely little head splayed between his hands digging deep into the sand, could do nothing but nod. Slowly, with heat ripping through his body from the inside, and his heart suddenly skipping a few beats.
"Y-yes," he whispered softly, as you pushed behind the ear raven strands of his hair. A gentle sweetness shone in his eyes, melting your heart with its pure and innocent glow. His feelings were so pristine, as he desperately tried to hide this charming bashfulness behind an awkward demeanour. "If you allow me, my Goddess, I do want to–" his throat bobbed, another wave of embarrassment washing over his virgin body. He simply couldn't force himself to admit such a filthy thing!
You giggled, pulling him closer. Till your lips brushed gently and eyes met in a lustful crossing. "Then get to work, my sailor boy. Show me what you got."
Before Choso could ask, flustered, how this was supposed to work, you swiftly lifted your tail, putting the lower half of heavy, pinkish scales on his shoulder. Your hand curled around his, slowly, slowly, guiding it towards the swell of your ass. And then slightly down, through the hard scales covering your whole lower body. Choso tried to remember every little bump, each golden line curling around your tail like a halo, till he finally felt something else.
Something softer, slicker, hidden under a few flakes till you helped him feel the wet entrance of your pussy. His breath hitched, eyes crossed with your mischievous smile, as he sensed the slick coat his palm.
"Can you feel it?" you asked, but something in your voice changed. It became softer, more pleading, with a gentle frown appearing between your eyebrows. "Push them in, mhmm, just like that," guiding him softly, your nails dig into his forearm.
Two thick fingers slipped inside, and he immediately moaned, feeling the maddening tightness of your cunt. Gummy walls – not quite soft, but rather with slight bumps and swells – clamped down on his digits till thrusting them further was nearly impossible.
Choso had never been with a woman before and thus had no basis for comparison. Still, your warmth felt uniquely different from that of humans – slick, slimy, with bulges pressing into his fingers and holding them firmly. His two fingers were trapped in the soft, drenched embrace of your heated cunt, making his mind spin at the sheer thought of feeling you around his cock.
"My Goddess, you're s-so wet," he cried, curling another arm around your tail. His cheek nuzzled into the pink-scaled tail, and the silky fluke fluttered on his shoulder. "So tight, can you r-relax a little?"
When he tried to bend the finger, a sudden jolt of electricity dripped down your spine, and nails dug deeper into his muscular forearm. "I am relaxed, sailor boy. It–ngh–it can't get looser."
Choso was almost losing his mind. The warmth of your cunt burned through his fingers, soft bumps brushed his fingers as he pumped them in slow thrusts. With pads bumping into every swell of your gummy walls and honeyed slick dripping down the drenched sand. It stretched between his fingers, coating them in a weird, slimy softness, and, driven by sheer curiosity, he pulled them out.
Seeing the thought coiling in his mind, your eyes suddenly bulged. "No, wait, you can't–!"
But it was too late.
Two, drenched digits were pushed into his mouth, as he sucked on them with a low hum. His tongue licking them clean, a delicious groan escaped his tightened throat, as the syrupy sweetness exploded on his tongue. His mind started to spin, eyes rolled back, stomach squeezed in an almost painful pleasure and cock, if not hard enough, became almost stony. With head pulsing in feverish need as he brushed the fat shaft against the slick entrance of your cunt.
But something felt wrong… The heat that hit him was too strong, ripping him from the inside with a hungry flame that seemed to grow more resilient.
He looked down, seeing the pearly cum already bursting all over your soft, pulsing cunt, coating the lovely scales with waves and waves of thick semen. And yet, his cock was still rock-hard, throbbing with a raw need to breed your swelling cunt. With small folds puckered out, and a bumpy clit pulsing under the sticky droplets of his semen.
"W-What is g-going–"
"It's like an aphrodisiac," you cried, feeling his warm cum coating your needy pussy. "The slick, it's, mhmmm, you shouldn't eat it."
As the round head of his cock brushed your soaked hole, its muscles tried to draw it in. Your walls tightened around the throbbing tip, causing another surge of pleasure to ripple through Choso's spine and making him climax again with a sticky release.
"I can't, fuck, I-I can't stop cumming," a crying whimper rolled past his lips, as he nuzzled into your tale like a baby. "My Goddess, you tasted s-so, nghh, so delicious, fuck, so sweet. I don't regret drinking it, Idon'tIdon't–ah!"
Oh, what a lovely, whimpering mess he was. Although his massive cock ripped you raw, prising through the swells and bumps with a brutal intrusion, you still managed to giggle cheekily.
A massive arm firmly held your tail in place, while another hand moved down to your pussy. Fingers, a bit clumsy, found your sensitive clit, gently pressing and rolling the soft, pulsing button.
With eyes slightly half-closed and a mind clouded by pleasure, you stared at his face – completely miserable, crying, yet strikingly beautiful, with raven hair clinging to his open lips and a deep furrow across the milky skin of his forehead. His chestnut eyes remained fixed on yours, refusing to break eye contact, even as his hips moved desperately to meet yours. Messy words spilt from his loosened tongue as he kissed, licked, and bit the scales of your tail, making your thoughts whirl even faster.
"Don't, I'm–ahh–sensitive here!"
Deep eyes locked onto you, shimmering with a hint of mischief. "Oh, yeah? Where else are you sensitive, my Goddess?" he murmured, licking your tail again. "Tell me, I want to know every one of your sweet spots."
His thumb rubbed your clit, desperately trying to make your cunt loosen up just slightly. But it seemed that the swells and bumps coating your walls were already relaxed, forcing him to slide through the slick with a beastly thrust. Your cunt squished his cock till you felt every vein, every dripping pearl of his cum with a maddening accuracy.
Your arms spread open, waiting for him to bend over and bury his face in the plushness of your breasts. His fingers ripped the two shells covering your tits with a single tug, finally letting the swelled softness slip into his warm palm.
He leaned forward, folding your tail in half until the thin fluke brushed the sand over your head. "So soft," he whispered, squeezing your breasts with one hand. "My Goddess, you're so soft, e-everywhere," but before a moan could escape your lips, he captured them with his own, drinking in the sweet melody with a low groan. "Where is it? Where is your sweet spot?"
As no matter how hard he forcefully thrusted, how deep his cock slipped into your feverish cunt, it seemed that he still couldn't find this little button that would make you melt under his touch.
He pounded you like a madman, tearing through your clamping walls and sucking gently on your lips, as he felt each and every bump of your cunt. The filthy squelching sound bounced off the cave's wall, as the slimy cum dripped down the curve of your ass.
He mumbled, cried, whimpered miserably where is it where is it where is it, as his cock rummaged through your weeping pussy at a maddening pace, forcing your body to dig deeper into the soft sand. Your breast bounced with every thrust, eyes rolled back whenever he busted inside, filling your womb with heavy waves of cum.
As, dear heavens, he was cumming all the time – from the moment his cock slipped past your swollen folds, till the milky teeth sucked on your neck. The heat caused by your slick was constantly making him cum, till your lower belly bulged from the thickness of milky seed he stuffed you with. It flowed inside your belly, attracting his hazy attention.
His large palm pressed the lower, plump pouch of your belly, feeling the warm liquid spilling inside your puffy womb.
"It's, mhmmm, it's everywhere," you moaned into his lips, pulling him closer. Fingers digging into his hair, eyes glossy whenever the soft skin of his cock pushed your swollen bumps. "The things, ahhh, inside it's–" another cry filled his fallen lips, as the feverish head kissed your overflowing womb. "It's e-everywhere. The bumps–"
"Are your sweet spot?" Choso asked, feeling another wave of heat coiling in his loins. "You wish to tell me that all of them…"
"Yes, fuck, yesyesyes," your eyes crossed in pleasure, when his thumb pinched your clit. Rolling the little button between soft fingers, massaging it in small circles, only to tweak it with a little pain. "So good, mhmm feels s-so good."
And upon hearing it, something in Choso's mind snapped.
Again, again, again, and again, as he pumped his cock with sloppy thrusts. His warm cum filled your womb to the brim, coating his full length with sticky creaminess and spilling through your entrance. He plunged with brutal force, ripping through the swollen bumps that tried to lock him in place.
He pulled back from your neck, taking in the loveliness of your face, utterly lost in pleasure. Kissing warm cheeks, licking the chin, biting down on pointy ears till another moan ripped through your chest and cunt clamped on him tighter.
Tighter and tighter, until Choso somehow felt himself sealed. Your walls softened and expanded, embracing his pulsing shaft with an arousing, warm sensation.
"What's going on?" he brushed away the lost strands of hair stuck to your cheeks. "My Goddess, what–"
"We're, mhmm, mating," your head lulled to the side, and breathing suddenly became harder. He, on the other hand, froze. "You need to s-stay inside till I won't get p-pregnant."
But it was hard to imagine you weren't already with a child, with a lower belly bloated from the sheer amount of cum he filled you with. And when your cunt sealed him with a deathly grip, you finally came. Pulsing around his cock, drenching his hips with the slick sweetness, and bending your back in a delicious arc.
And Choso whimpered, feeling your warm cunt clamp down on him with short pulses, and pressing with his heavy hand on the bloated pouch filled with his semen. Till you cried right into his lips and allowed him to lick the sweat rushing down your temple. So beautiful, beautiful, my beautiful Goddess, bounced off your lips as he mumbled messily like a starving man. Rolling his hips with gentle thrusts, sending waves of pleasure down your spine.
You stayed locked for the next few minutes, and the moment Choso pulled out, his cum burst from your clamping walls. But he, oh, he didn't let it go to waste, quickly slipping beneath your tail and pushing the salty strings back with his tongue.
Drinking, slurping, sucking on your slick mixed with his, till the aphrodisiac once again hit his head. You tried to push him away, overwhelmed from the orgasm that ripped through you a mere seconds ago, but he was completely, utterly lost.
Sucking on your plump clit and stuffing you full with three fingers, only to keep the warm semen deep inside your womb.
He fucked you, caressed you and kissed every part of your body till the soft licks of sun started slipping shyly into the cave. Till your pinkish tail was coated in his cum and belly heavy, overflowing with the creamy warmth.
Sometimes he pounded your back on the sand; at other times, when your scales felt drier than usual, he put you back in the water, filling your tight cunt with calm waves slipping beneath your bodies.
He made promises, large and lovely, while biting and sucking sweetly on your nipples and coating the swell of your breasts with the wettest kisses. He fucked you madly and made love, as if cherishing the moment of intimacy meant only for the lovers.
And you, who initially intended to use him only for this purpose, began to breathe in every soft whisper. To nuzzle into his large, warm hands, kiss the skin on his neck, and look up at his handsome face with a gentle, tender gaze.
Thus, when morning arrived, and you both lay on the warm sand, turning toward each other, a quiet, shy voice said gently, "Allow me to go with you."
Your heart swelled, breath hitched in a tightened chest, seeing the pristine desperation beaming from his eyes. He sighed, feeling your fingers swirl the long, raven hair. "Do you know what you're asking for?"
He nodded, brushing the sweetness of your cheeks.
"You'll never be able to live above the water."
"I know," he added, eyes still kind and utterly hopeless. "I don't mind. As long as I can live with you."
And with a new, such strange feeling blooming in your heart, a soft okay, slipped past your lips.
There was a way to make him breathe underwater. Something sirens kept secret, never letting mortals know about such a deadly weapon.
"Drink my tears, then," you said, rolling him back onto your body. Till he hovered over you, with long, dark strands tickling your cheeks. "Make me cry, my sailor boy, and drink them."
Choso stared at your lovely face, taking in its divine beauty. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered innocently, and you giggled.
Your hands curled behind his neck, drawing him into a soft, dear kiss. "You fool, there's no need to hurt me." A mischievous smile lifted your lips as you once again raised your tail and rested it on his shoulder. "I can think of a few different ways."
And Choso, as a madman, could only follow every wish of his beloved, siren Goddess.
Dearest anon, I hope your wish was fulfilled! And that everyone else also enjoyed it <3
For Macedonian's, he was the King. In Asia, they called him Conqueror. Egyptians bestowed upon him the title of Pharaoh, and Greeks believed he was Zeus's offspring. But for his closest general, companion, lover... he was just Satoru. Suguru's most beloved golden boy.
part of the Gods, Heroes, Warriors collection!
pairings: Alexander the Great!Gojo x Hephaestion!Suguru
content/warning: Ancient Macedonia AU, Ancient Persia Au, historical AU, pretty much historically accurate, lots of fluff, heavy angst, character's death, based on real historical figures, a bit of smut, wars and battles, King!Satoru x Commander!Suguru, heavy grief, sickness, gay sex, Satoru is a brat in every universe, Bottom!Satoru, Top!Suguru
WC: 13.5k
a/n: Since there's not much left on the intimate relationships between the two men, I was relying on snippets and pieces taken from Arrian, Plutarch, and Curtius, who documented some scenes from their lives. I tried to keep it as accurate as possible, with all the events and timeline, but, of course, a few scenes were added by me.
When Satoru first met him, the world started to taste much sweeter.
It happened one morning, after a thirteen-year-old boy had just arrived at the Temple of the Nymphs in Miza, where, for the next three years, he would study under the most prominent philosopher of the century, alongside other noble boys. The place was quiet, small, with a strip of river running nearby and creamy columns towering over the serene village.
The temple itself was enormous, and Satoru had thought it looked splendid under the soft kisses of the orange sun.
But that was until he saw him. A boy of his age, peeking curiously at another student joining their little academy. His lavender eyes reminded Satoru of lush meadows spreading over Macedonian hills and gentle winds carrying the heavy fragrance of wildflowers.
His sun-kissed skin glimmered with sweat, and long, raven hair brushed against his shoulders. He stood under the thick column, dressed in simple white robes, with a gentle crease between his brows.
"Hi," Satoru said, with a shy smile curving his lips. "I'm–"
"Your hair," the boy murmured, coming closer. Brown sandals echoed through the temple before he left the shadowed area. "It's so light."
Satoru lifted up a hand, rolling a strand of milky hair between his fingers. It's true – he was unnaturally pale for the licks of the Mediterranean sun and would most of the time end up with red burns on toned shoulders. White hair looked spectacular and bizarre, always somehow making him stand out among other noble boys.
"Is it ugly?" slipped almost silently, as if Satoru was talking to himself.
But the boy shook his head, with a few loose strands smooching his cheeks. "It's not. I like it."
"Really?"
He nodded, and Satoru chuckled. The boy was rather brazen and didn't even try to hide the curiosity that suddenly filled his narrow eyes. His gaze slowly travelled around Satoru's face, taking in lush cheeks and blue eyes, reminding him of the warm waves and heavy smell of salt hanging in the air.
"What's your name?" Satoru asked, while the royal soldiers unpacked his carriage.
Everything was quickly taken to his bedroom, although then he wasn't yet aware that, for the next three years, a small chamber would be shared with–
"Suguru Geto."
Suguru Geto.
Satoru rolled this name in his mind a few times before tasting it on his tongue. It sounded warm, sweet, kind. Matched his eyes, curved like two moons, with a serenity Satoru has never seen.
He looked rather calm for a boy of his age. Polite and tenderhearted, with a gentle smile that made Satoru's lips curve too.
When Suguru decided to help him unpack, both boys were rather surprised to find their luggage resting against the same walls of the temple's bedroom. With two simple beds placed on opposite sides of the small room and a window carved in stone, overlooking the flowing river.
An orange tree hung right next to it, and with just a short reach, Satoru could grasp the ripe fruit between his fingers.
"Seems like we're going to be roommates," Suguru smiled, and Satoru nodded.
Something warm spread all over his chest, as if happiness from finding a friend in a new environment muted all the other feelings bonded to his being here.
To the fact that this place was meant to school a new King of Macedonia, burdening his young, thin shoulders with a responsibility he wasn't yet aware of.
That the academia wasn't aimed to let the young prince run wild and make friends – no, this was a place where Satoru would meet his future generals and enemies. Noble boys, who would either fight for Macedonia, or traitors, whose tender days spent in the company of a future King wouldn't matter in the face of political alliances.
But then, the thirteen-year-old boy didn't wish to think of it.
Back then, under the burning rays of sunshine slipping through the leaves of the orange tree, his short nails dug through the fruit's skin, peeling it off in a few, quick motions. Juice trickled down his knuckles before he tore it in half and gave it to Suguru.
The boy took it with a soft thank you and dug his teeth in, till sweet nectar started to drip from his chin.
Satoru loved ripping fresh oranges from the lush trees of the royal garden, but those fruits never seemed to taste as sweet as the one he held between his fingers.
There was something unusual about it – in the way his world started to bloom from a second Suguru shared with him this moment of innocent sweetness.
From a second, when their eyes collided and deep ocean waves met the fragrance of lavender.
And that's how their story had begun.
With days spent studying a wide variety of subjects, beginning with arts and politics and finishing with medicine, morals, and philosophy. Their teacher taught them wisely, with utmost patience towards two bratty youngsters, who'd rather spend time fooling around the riverbank than sit long hours cramming for the history class.
Lots and lots of noble boys joined their little pack, and young laughters filled the morning air of Mieza, bouncing off the lush fields and broad mountains, as if the world outside the temple didn't exist.
Throughout those years, Satoru laughed more than his stomach could handle. Pale cheeks bloomed with rosiness every day, and eyes somehow always seemed to wander towards his closest companion.
They were sleeping together, eating together, swimming in the same river, wearing each other's clothes, talking long nights with only a pale moon lurking between the growing orange trees, as the most loyal witness.
The years were passing, with both boys growing up stronger, wiser.
Wiser? Their teacher wondered with a sigh, for he truly didn't know when their foolish adolescence would leave his two most prominent students. Satoru Gojo, the prince of Macedonia, together with his dearest aristocrat boy, Suguru Geto, were unbowed when it came to his classes.
The wisest, the strongest, with minds clear and bright, as if born to work together.
One soul abiding two bodies, he used to say, lurking at two boys who seemed to be always stuck to each other.
Satoru and Suguru, like sun and moon, with two different characters but having the same heart, as if ripped in half and trapped in two tender bodies.
And when they didn't study, they wandered.
Around the western Macedonian plains and beaches, sleeping under the open sky and catching crickets singing quietly into the depths of the night. They travelled, joined at the hip, with Satoru's creamy hair shining beneath the liquid rays and Suguru's lavender eyes smiling with more tenderness than ever.
At the age of fifteen, they were inseparable.
With souls and minds and hearts tied by a deep sense of companionship, they both cherished more than any other oath in their lives.
For what were the promises of the Macedonian throne and the highest-ranking Commander if Suguru's King wouldn't have a hearty laugh that made his spine tingle, and Satoru's most loyal general wasn't a boy with the kindest heart?
They talked and laughed and shared stories of their childhood. Of Satoru's years of preparation to become a future King and Suguru's training to be his useful tool.
Of their upbringing and harsh environment, with no love whatsoever, but rather a rough training to become the best of the best. To either live or die. Kill or be killed among the royal court, with threats of war hanging by a thread.
Suguru came from a lineage of aristocrats, strategists, generals – the ones who knew how to serve and always did it best. Thus, he, too, wished for nothing but to become the most trusted one and make a pledge to the King.
And Satoru – he didn't mind. For if he were to become a King, he wished for no one else but Suguru by his side – as the strategist, minister, general.
Most trusted friend.
He didn't say it out loud then, but knew that Suguru thought of the same.
Sometimes, when Satoru couldn't sleep, he listened to Suguru's deep, peaceful breath. He would lie in bed and look across the room to see the misty rays of moonlight bathing his friend's face. Dark locks brushing his forehead and long lashes kissing his cheeks.
On nights like that, Satoru wondered when this endless idyll would end.
When the affairs of the real world would catch up to their own small bubble and clutch it with a merciless grip.
He wondered whether they could stay here forever, with nothing but their teacher and friends and warm summer wind smooching their sweating foreheads.
He wondered whether Suguru thought of their friendship as much as he did.
Thoughts of parting ways forced Satoru's heart to swell with pain.
A year later, their education has ended.
Both with young hearts, barely sixteen, once again found themselves standing under the temple's creamy columns. In the same place they met three years ago, not knowing yet that their lives would forever be changed.
"Is that it, then?" Satoru asked, his ocean eyes hiding a sudden wave of sadness.
The royal soldiers were right behind, with horses and a carriage ready to be taken back to the capital.
His fingers trembled, gaze hung somewhere above Suguru's head.
"I believe it is," the boy muttered, with a weak smile.
They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing how to say goodbye.
Should they even say it?
Would they ever see each other again?
And if, in what circumstances?
Satoru's father was erratic, mad, and the boy was already preparing for a war he declared on the Thracian tribe in the northern parts of the country. Joining the battle was a matter of days, as his body would be swathed in shiny armour before stepping on the capital's land.
Suguru would go back to the capital, too, and continue his chase towards greatness.
And so they parted. Leaving each other a single, warm embrace and longing gazes, that would follow the carriages far till the forking of the road, with one boy going toward the court of the capital, and the other joining the restless frontiers.
They left the temple, keeping the last three years tucked safely into the depths of their hearts. With the teacher and other noble boys and sunny days near the running river forever reminding them of a few, fleeting moments when they live was filled with nothing but serene innocence.
In the months that followed, Satoru – still more prince than a King and still half a boy in the eyes of bloody battle – rode north with his father. This time, he learned not from scrolls and his teacher's wise words, but a brutal clarity of war itself. Where the hesitation meant death, and victory was measured in burned bodies.
The campaign against the Thracians was swift but not without its lessons, for the tribe fought fiercely in their own lands, and it was Satoru himself who commanded not merely as a prince shadowing his father, but as something sharper. More brutal, leading troops through broken terrains, reading the movements of men and returning victorious. The world was finally aligning with the scale of his ambition, and he could feel the thrill of glory in his fingertips.
Back in the capital, Suguru moved through much different battlefields – ones of whispers and alliances and watchful eyes, gazing at the young aristocrat who trained much harder than ever. He remained close to the court and circles that one day would matter, keeping his presence neither loud nor insignificant. He observed how power was held, how easily it slipped, how it was taken, slowly carving his way up the ladder, to deserve the place among the King's closest commanders.
And yet, even while slowly rising in force, something weird coiled in his chest.
Satoru had been away for two years already, and both of them had grown up to the age of eighteen.
For this whole time, Suguru didn't see him even once.
Although he wished and waited – with breath pausing at the sigh of the rider returning from the north and eyes lingering too long on reports that mentioned the prince. Sometimes he would start talking, with warmth in his voice and eyes curving in joy, only to stop halfway. For there was no one beside him who would laugh at his awkward attempts to fool.
Sometimes they exchanged the letters. Short and brief, with dry updates regarding the campaigns and victories.
But because Suguru was the one who received them, he could see it. Those little details, too insignificant to hold political weight yet too intimate to be accidental – of an orange tree hanging over Satoru's tent and a purple hue spreading on the evening sky. Of the northern hills, giving the army a bit of a shadow, and a horse that refused any rider but him.
She's beautiful, he wrote in a separate little note, I'll tame her for you and bring as a birthday present. We've been apart for too long, my friend.
And when replies were sent, they mirrored that same caution – focused on court affairs, shifting loyalties, the tightening grasp of Satoru's father over the Greek world. Yet sometimes, they slipped, here and there, into something softer – a reminder to stay healthy, a little observation of a white cat Suguru has found in the royal gardens, a gentle offer to go back to Mieza.
Just the two of us, Suguru would write in a little, barely visible letters.
But he knew that Satoru would see.
And then, a year later, the fracture came.
When Satoru's father took a new wife, the court shifted. Satoru was never of pure blood, and if the woman meant to birth a Macedonian heir, the prince would find his promised position in danger.
At the royal wedding feast, some words fell too loudly. Wine loosened the tongues of guests who should never have spoken, and a few drunken prayers for a legitimate successor slipped through the rich marble walls of the wedding hall.
At that point, Satoru was too proud and powerful to be stopped. Honour, already burning fiercely within him, flared into something uncontrollable. What followed the wedding was not merely an argument, but a rupture between father and son, until the prince, who had faced tribes and battles, devoting his life to a country without hesitation, found himself driven into exile.
The cup Suguru was holding in his hands dropped onto the marble floor and shattered into a million pearly pieces.
For how was it that he, once again, lost the prince who was already brushing against his fingertips?
During the wedding, he was right there.
Tall and bright, of ninteen years old boyish face, but a body hung with muscles. With the same ocean eyes and cheeky smile, Suguru missed so much during the past three years. White hair brushing against his forehead and gaze, wandering between the King and him – Satoru's dearest friend – who stood in the shadows, as someone not quite significant. Not yet.
They exchanged nothing but soft smiles and gentle nods, with their palms burning as if in hunger to be held. To touch each other again, close in a warm hug, and bring two separated bodies closer, as if the one soul they’ve shared was already dying.
He was right there, and yet Suguru couldn’t even touch him.
When Satoru left the capital, Suguru remained in the palace – watching as the court was gradually slumping into chaos, with ministers and nobles slowly losing their faith. Suguru remained quiet as always, with sharp senses allowing him to avoid all the missteps that could cost him his whole career.
One year later, the King was dead.
Assassinated by one of his most trusted guards. And together with his death, a successor needed to step in. So nobles and ministers, as if possessing one mind, decided.
Satoru Gojo.
For there was no one else who could hold such a tremendous power and make a great use of it. Satoru didn’t hesitate, as there was no time for mourning and no space for doubt. He made up his decision swiftly, and merely a day later, the new King of Macedonia was announced.
And somewhere within the newly forged order, with a court divided between fear and loyalty, there was only one name the new King did not question, calling back to his side.
✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎
Satoru did not want the coronation feast.
There were more significant things to be tackled, and the grand party was the last thing he wished for. With drunk nobles and their bothersome requests, as if they didn’t already fawn over him for the past few days.
No feast, that was his decision.
But how could that be? The court wondered.
How could there be a celebration for the announcement of the new King? How could the ruler not want to enjoy this one night with a whole country, whose people were ready to held grant banquets solely for the young, handsome monarch?
It’s the tradition, they whispered.
A custom, never broken in a hundred years.
It seemed, however, that the King was in a foul mood, and the threat of cutting down ministers one by one helped them shush their mouths.
For they all knew that undoubtedly many more issues needed to be discussed. The King aimed to consolidate his power not solely around the whole Mediterranean region, but the world itself. There was Asia and Africa – far lands and deep waters, that the young man thought of during the sleepless nights.
There were lands where oranges could taste much sweeter and where his gentle friend’s eyes would shine even brighter. One's full of foreign knowledge and plants and rivers, where they could lie and bathe under the rays of the sizzling sun.
In summary, there were places Satoru wished to conquer, but not without dealing with his own garden first. For there was still the Balkan campaign he had planned and foul ministers he needed to execute. There weren’t any successors to the throne, thankfully, as he killed all of his male cousins early enough, so there was one less worry swirling on his frowning forehead.
That is why he didn’t quite understand the need for a grant feast.
But then… then Suguru has murmured that in his opinion it would be a wise move, and Satoru suddenly changed his mind. Like an obedient child, sending all the ministers and nobles into shock.
For this exact reason, during the coronation feast, their eyes peeked once in a while towards two young man lost in their hushed conversation.
Older, wise men with years of experience observed how the young Commander spoke casually to the new King, with his head still sitting neatly in its place. With a muscular arm curling behind the King’s throne, and lips almost touch his earlobe.
They watched a rather intimate scene with heart in their throats, for there was truly no one who could be as heedless with Satoru Gojo as him.
Suguru Geto.
Oh, his name rolled like a venom through ministers’ tongues, for they knew this man quite well.
He was of a quiet demeanour, coming to the court merely at the age of sixteen.
No one important, they all thought, he won’t be a threat.
But then the factions started to change, loyalties shifted, and suddenly all nobles and ministers found out that the only person who could truly control the brute King was him.
The young man with hair as if brushed by maidens themselves, and raven tips brushing his hips. Lavender eyes always lurking around the palace, as if seeing and knowing every little detail of hushed conversations. Peeking at ministers, as if he had already learned who would be executed.
No, as if he was the one deciding on that, with a little viper tongue whispering dirty secrets straight to the King’s ear.
Suguru Geto was not only of a remarkable mind, but a great combatant too, serving already as the highest in rank Commander. With a muscular body not that different from a King’s, but fortunately, of a much more serene demeanour.
It was a great mystery, truly, how such a man could make the brute King smile.
No, laugh even, with his crystal, boyish chuckle almost diminishing the little flames of nearby candles.
They sat at one table, ignoring everyone around.
Just the two of them, with constantly flowing wine and their lips dipping into crimson liquid every few seconds, as if their meeting was not sweet enough.
They talked, and talked, and talked, with dizzy minds but, oh, swelling hearts too. With Satoru cherishing his greatest friend’s lavender eyes blinking like little stars, and Suguru looking at his King like the most precious treasure.
"Where is the horse you’ve talked so much of in your letters?" Suguru asked, and Satoru chuckled lowly.
"She’s in the royal stable. Do you want to meet her?"
Suguru thanked the young lady for pouring fresh wine and took a sip from the golden cup. It trickled down his throat pleasantly, with his gaze already slightly dizzy.
"How about tomorrow? Maybe we can go for a ride?" He murmured.
The feast was held in the royal palace, with a marble hall lit softly by the torches’ flame. Lush vineyard spiralled up the thick columns, climbing to the heavens themselves with a satiny glow of moonlight slipping through the open roof.
The night was hot, with their robes already sticking to their bodies and red cloaks hanging loosely off broad shoulders.
The long table was bending under the golden plates, with meats and fruits and goblets of wine looking more delicious than ever. It sat near the throne, but in a rather dim place, giving the two men a bit of privacy. The flames there were weaker than anywhere else in the hall, and voices quiet enough not to let anyone hear their sweet whispers.
Ministers and nobles enjoyed themselves to the soft melody of the harp, with drunken laughs filling the sea salt air.
"It sounds quite fine," Satoru mumbled. "Do you wish to take her for the Balkan campaign too?"
"Will she listen to me?"
The King smiled, cheekily, with ocean eyes curving slightly upward. "Of course she will, I trained her for you."
Suguru hummed. "Did you not want to leave such a precious horse for your future wife?"
It slipped… rather unfortunately. Quite awkwardly, leaving them both silent, with eyes bulging in surprise.
Although it shouldn’t, as the topic of the future queen was sort of crucial, but… well.
Something heavy hung in the air between both young men, and till the rest of the evening they barely talked. Just a few snippets, laughs, and memories from Satoru’s exile and Suguru’s days spent in the court.
They pulled away from each other, with their shoulders no longer touching. Both tried to muffle bizarre tension with sweet wine, until their heads started to spin and the King was barely sitting.
When one servant offered to take him back to his chamber, extending a hand toward the ruler's lulled head, Suguru quickly grabbed it. The thought of someone touching his dearest friend’s cheeks felt somehow unsettling.
"Allow me to take him," he said, although barely standing straight himself.
He took Satoru’s liquid body and helped him get up before curling his arm around his shoulders. The man was heavy, and by the time Suguru managed to drag the King to his room, hidden deep inside the palace, salty drops were already dripping down his spine. And before he sat him on the plush bed, he was already panting and breathing as if battling a thousand men.
He stood above the lying man, with white locks scattered around his angelic face and pale moonlight creeping through the misty baldahin. Nothing but a few mumbled candles lightened the chamber, and a small, wooden bath stood in the corner, steaming with hot water.
Suguru kneeled next to the bed, gently brushing away the milky strands of Satoru’s forehead. His rosy lips opened quietly, with a light breath slipping through. Its sweetness hit the Commander’s cheek, nose, lips, and warmth curled around the speeding heart.
His face moved closer – almost near enough for their noses to brush in an intimate, but rather childlish manner. A few dark strands sneaked off and dripped down Satoru’s face.
It’s wrong, Suguru thought.
It’s wrong to be so tenderly close to his best friend, with fingers slipping off his forehead and travelling down.
And down, and down, till his thumb pushed Satoru’s plump, upper lip.
But then... a shy voice rolled. "What are you doing?"
Suguru pulled off as if burned. His eyes widened, mind suddenly sobered up, and only then did he realise the gravity of the situation. Fingers on Satoru’s face and lips almost brushing against his. Muscular back covering the pale moonlight, till not even a single ray could squeeze through the thick curtain of raven hair.
Now, sitting on the floor with a sweat curling around his temple, the Commander was terrified. Not of the King himself, as he believed no power in this world could push his dearest companion to hurt him, but of losing the only person he has ever cherished.
"I–" he mumbled, trying to look anywhere but at Satoru’s furrowed forehead. "Apologies, my King," rolled with a cough, before he quickly stood up.
Long legs crossed the chamber in a few steps, and fingers curled around the door’s handle. Before he could push it, a strangled voice stopped him.
"Don’t call me that."
It was quiet. Too quiet, and if the chamber was filled with nothing but the faint, crackling flames of candles and gentle waves crashing somewhere behind the palace – Suguru would surely miss it. His slim brows furrowed as he shyly glanced back. At wavering eyes, filled with a mix of emotions.
"You would behead any other man in this Kingdom if he called you anything else."
"But you’re not just any other man."
Suguru stiffened, lips curving in an awkward smile. "I shouldn’t have special treatment solely because of our past… my King."
Past.
Not friendship, not relation.
Just past.
Satoru’s chest lifted in a heavy sigh, with his gaze meeting the warm, lavender one. No one else but the first Commander could ever see a King in such a state – with a crease haunting his forehead and an almost beseeching look.
"It’s an order," he said in a rather non-ruler manner.
In a way, he used to talk to Suguru years ago, when both of them were still just little brats.
Suguru tried to muffle a shaky breath and turned back fully towards the King.
And before Satoru could say a word, his Commander suddenly fell to his knees. With a head hung down and fists curled on his creamy robes.
"My King, I deeply apologise. This Commander committed a grave mistake, and he will accept your punishment properly."
He didn’t dare to look up, with eyes glued to the floor beneath his knees. Raven hair curled around his cheeks, but he left them hanging. At least loose bangs covered his shaking gaze and quivering lips.
"What did you want to do?" The King whispered, and Suguru heard him stand up from the bed.
The cold floor echoed with the heavy footsteps of his sandal-clad feet, and soon Sugur saw them right in front of his kneeling body.
"Nothing of the appropriate sort, my King," he mumbled. "If you allow this Commander to receive the punishment–"
"Show me."
Suguru froze. With eyes and breath and fingers icebound.
There was a minute of silence, as if he was trying to comprehend Satoru’s command, before finally looking up.
"My King, what do you mean?"
Before Suguru could stop him, Satoru’s pale knees hit the floor.
"My King, you should not–"
"Show me what you wanted to do," he murmured once again, with eyes on the same level as his friend’s lavender warmth.
Satoru’s long fingers took Suguru’s hand, placing it on his heart. It was warm, touching his chest over the thin robe with a tremble.
Commander wanted to pull away, but the King squeezed his palm, slowly, slowly, tracing it up. And up, and up, through his collarbones, creamy neck, and a chin, before leaving it on a flushed cheek.
"My King, I do not dare–"
"Call me Satoru," he hummed, with ocean eyes never leaving Suguru’s terrified gaze. "And it’s an order. Show me exactly what you wanted to do."
Suguru’s throat bobbed, as if he swallowed years of restrained hunger.
He wished to stand up and leave the chamber. Never cross the forbidden line between their relationship, for there was no certainty that Satoru saw him as anything more than just a companion.
But he dared not disobey his King’s orders, so a second later, his lips crashed against him.
In warmth and sweetness, with last traces of wine slipping between their rolling tongues. A new feelling started to coil in their bellies and hearts swelled in pleasure, when Suguru grasped Satoru’s neck and pulled him closer.
They both kneeled, but soon the King started to move closer and closer, until Suguru’s back hit the floor and Satoru’s hips climbed over his. They wore nothing but long, creamy robes and brown sandals, which soon started to squeak against the marble floor. With Suguru digging his heels into it, chasing the pleasure coming from Satoru’s ass brushing against his already leaking cock.
Commander’s big hands quickly found themselfes on the King’s hips, moving them back and forth in gentle waves.
Satoru’s forearms landed on the floor, caging Suguru’s head right between his muscles.
The gentle crackling of candles was soon muffled by the drenched kisses and soft moans coming from two young, touch-starved men tumbling all over the floor. With strands of hair sticking to their wet foreheads and lidded eyes barely registering the whole situation. With hands getting lost all over their muscular bodies, and still covered cocks brushing against each other.
"My King, do you enjoy it?" Suguru asked, before a low hiss escaped his throat.
Satoru has bitten him. Hard, with a trace of blood trickling down from his lower lip.
"Call me that again, and next time I’ll bite on something else," he muffled, squeezing Suguru's flushed cheeks. "Do you understand?"
Commander nodded, before, once again, feeling the King’s warm lips on his.
"To answer your question, Commander, I do rather enjoy it," rolled in pleasure, with Satoru’s hips moving ever harsher against his.
Suguru moaned, feeling the head of his cock bump against Satoru’s hole.
"Better than lying with a woman?" He delved, brushing away the milky strands that covered his most dearest view – the King’s angelic face, with slightly furrowed brows and fallen lips, as if just waiting to be kissed again.
Satoru shook his head. "I’ve never lain with any of them."
Suguru suddenly stopped his moves, keeping Satoru’s hips tightly in place.
For the past few years, the King has conquered multiple nations; thus, a practice of lying with foreign women was rather common among the soldiers. Needed, even, and Suguru was sure that with such looks, the King should have a fair share of women tumbling through his sheets.
But the beseeching look of Suguru’s most beloved ocean eyes was clearly oblivious to the insinuation.
"What do you mean? For so many years, surely you must’ve–"
"Have you?" The King quickly interrupted, with a small fire lighting up behind his eyes. "While I was away, have you taken any woman?"
Suguru remained silent for a minute before placing his hand on the King’s cheek. His thumb slid over the silky skin before slipping down to parted lips.
"Of course not. It was always you, my boy."
Satoru nuzzled into his palm, placing a feather kiss on his finger. "Boy?"
Commander nodded. "My golden boy. You always shone brighter than anyone else," he pushed the finger inside the King’s warm mouth, leaving it on the drenched tongue. "I could search the whole of Macedonia and not find a woman more beautiful than you."
Satoru smiled slyly, rolling his hips. Lips left the Commander’s finger with a quiet pop, before he leaned in closer. "Only Macedonia?"
Something behind Suguru’s eyes stirred when he noted every little wrinkle appearing around Satoru’s cheeky eyes.
"In the whole world, my King," he whispered, with a warmth spreading all over his chest. "The heavens themselves should bow down to your feet."
And thus they spent the night cuddled in each other’s muscular arms, with lips and hips and fingers leaving feverish traces all over their skin. With pantings and moans filling the chamber, while the King bounced gently on his Commander’s leaking cock. With veiny girth scratching his oil-drenched walls and tip hitting against that one, plump spot that made his toes curl.
Oh, how could a King ever think of lying with a woman, if his mind for such a long time was haunted by the serene lavender gaze?
How could he touch a woman’s skin if his fingers found their way around the Commander’s broad back so easily, leaving the red trails on his skin and digging deep into the stony muscles?
How could he cherish the soft, female body trembling under his, if he dreamed of nothing but being crushed and dominated and overpowered by the burly figure of his dearest friend? With his lips brushing feverishly against his, and swollen cock hitting all his plump spots with harsh thrusts.
Their love was sweet and passionate – marked by years spent in separation and with nothing but short letters letting them develop a new feeling that slowly bloomed between the two companions.
The love that grew slowly over time, after the eighteen-year-old boys were mature enough to notice a gentle change in their letters.
In the way Suguru cared more about Satoru’s health than the campaign alone, and how Satoru asked him now and then to send a few locks of his hair.
So I shall have you close to my heart, dear companion.
And when they saw each other during the wedding ceremony, something inside them cracked.
A long-held breath was finally released, with hearts bursting in a freshly blossomed feeling.
When Satoru saw him after so many years, standing under the pale column with long hair brushing against his hips and lavender eyes curved warmly in a smile, he desired nothing but to swirl those soft strands between his fingers. To feel Suguru’s muscles under his fingertips and sharp jaw, which had already lost this childlish chubbiness.
He thought of mixing their warm breaths and checking how plush Suguru’s lips actually were. How would they taste under the sloppy kisses and with moans rolling through?
He wished to ask whether his companion also thought of him in such a manner – bold, lustful, with all coiling thoughts leading to the desperate stroking of his cock and cried whimpers.
Thus, now, after years of yearning, both of them cherished nothing more than having each other between their arms. With Suguru’s nose nuzzling into Satoru’s velvet neck and hands gripping the back of his thighs.
With Satoru curling arms around his companion and pulling him closer, and closer, and closer, till their nipples brushed against each other and muscular chests glued with sweat.
"You feel so good, my King," Suguru murmured, tracing the sloppy kisses up his neck. "Fuck, I have dreamed about it every night for the past two years."
Satoru hated hearing this title rolling through Suguru’s mouth, but with his cock deep inside his belly and pulsing head smooching his spot – a sudden shiver washed over his spine.
The King’s fingers run through the Commander’s raven hair, tucking it gently. "Now you can have it every single day."
Warmth started to coil in their bellies, and Satoru’s eyes glimmered in tears with each thrust. The pleasure was maddening, holding them both in a chokehold till Suguru started mumbling sweet nothings under his breath, kissing the edges of Satoru’s lips.
The soft so good, so good, so good, and, you look so fucking beautiful, my King, filled the foggy chamber.
Satoru’s drenched walls clamped on Suguru’s cock, and the Commander let out a shuddered breath before slamming his hips against his in a quick, full motion. His fingers slipped down between their bodies and gripped Satoru’s leaking cock.
They needed mere seconds for a pleasure to wash over their spines. Suguru watched Satoru’s ocean eyes cross in delight, lips falling open, before white ropes of cum filled his hand. Commander followed right through, slamming his hips one last time, till the King’s belly pouched slightly and filled with a heavy load of cum.
And while the pleasure was slowly leaving their bodies, with hearts still galloping like a thousand horses and breaths mixing in feather kisses, both of them smiled. With love filling their chests and eyes, trying to remember each curve of their faces.
"Be with me, always," Satoru muttered, lying on a side with fingers brushing away Suguru’s dark locks.
His broad back covered half of the moon, with a faint light slipping through the open terrace.
"I’m not going anywhere," Suguru mumbled, nuzzling into his hand.
And so, since that blessed night, they were even more inseparable.
With the Commander joining the King’s every battle, every campaign, always slipping into his tent at late hours and sneaking out before the first rays of sunshine touched the earth.
There were no conversations between the King and other rulers that Suguru Geto couldn’t have listened to, and all the confidential letters sent to the Macedonian monarch were always read by two people – him and the first Commander.
The Balkan campaign lasted a year, and when the region was finally subjugated to the new King – Asia was next.
They planned it carefully, and the approach the King and his Commander had formed was to be named by the future strategists as blessed by the gods themselves. As then, after conquering the Balkans, no one yet knew how magnificent Satoru Gojo would be.
Although they started to see it – snippets of his military genius and undefeated battles.
The ruthless, but rather fair rule of the King, who appeared in the eyes of his citizens as god himself.
A Zeus’s child, with the power of thousands of men and a wicked mind that sees every war right through.
With a wisdom that no previous monarch has ever seen and, oh well, a cherry face that made the knees of young noble ladies bend in sweet bliss.
Thus, when the time for Minor Asia came, Persia was the first nation the King wanted to defeat. To conquer another great empire and walk further into an unknown territory.
Before leaving their land, the army, however, made a quick stop at a place dear to the King’s and his Commander’s hearts – Troy.
For right there, among the lush meadows and sea salt dancing in the air, they have found the graves of Achilles and Patroclus – the two greatest heroes and lovers they were often compared to.
For who was Satoru Gojo if not a golden child of his era, with the strength, wisdom, and bravery of the half-god himself?
And with his closest companion, Commander, strategist – he was undefeated.
After trading armour at the Temple of Athena, the whole army went forward to honour the tombs of the Trojan warriors. But only two men have stood above two sand-covered stones, with names Achilles and Patroclus carved in neat.
The lush wreaths were placed on them both, and both young warriors stood in silence, cherishing the warmth of the sun dancing on their skins.
The birds and sea spreading over the horizon.
The feeling of their beating hearts and hands brushing against each other, for they knew that their story would end up differently.
They won’t be like those two ancient lovers.
No, they will live till their knees are too weak to carry their bodies and eyes covered by a gentle fog. Minds remembering nothing but all the years spent in each other’s presence.
There was no one else up on the hill but them and a single, lush tree.
Satoru squeezed his companion’s hand, looking at him with a cheeky smile. When Suguru turned his way, he could already see it – a dirty thought coiling in his lover’s mind.
"Let’s do it here," Satoru whispered.
A low chuckle rolled from Suguru’s lips. "It feels immoral."
The King turned his direction fully, grasping both of the Commander’s hands between his. "Come on, I’m sure they would love it."
They stood head to head, eyes on the same level and lips almost brushing. Suguru could feel another man’s breath on his cheeks, with its warmth and sweetness curling around his senses in a pleasurable manner.
He felt Satoru’s thumbs brushing his knuckles before he let him go. Instead, the King’s hands slipped down Suguru’s iron armour, tracing towards the end of the short tunic. Commander’s jaw tightened when he felt silky fingers sweeping his semi-hard cock. Leather straps on his chest rose and fell together with a choked breath, and curved eyes.
"We don’t have oil," he murmured.
And then – Satoru smiled slyly. With a chuckle and a brazen glimmer in his eyes, before taking out a little glass bottle from his pocket.
Suguru raised his brows. "You planned this?"
"Of course, my love," The King chuckled, squeezing the Commander’s cock through the tunic. "There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t have planned."
There was something wicked in his playful smile. In this unbeaten confidence and behind those sharp eyes, most people feared.
Not Suguru, however, who pushed out a laugh and smashed his lips against the King’s.
They stood alone, with bodies slowly getting more feverish from the sudden heatwave that washed over their bodies, and muffled moans rolling through their drenched kisses.
"So bent over for me, my King, and let me taste you," Suguru muttered, gently pushing Satoru down on the grass.
He tried to ignore the two graves looming quietly next to them, while his cock was rummaging through the King’s walls. His lips traced wet, soft kisses down Satoru’s spine while hands lifted his hips even higher, just to give him a delicious view of the King’s creamy back. Arched like a thin branch, with shining muscles bulging every time Suguru’s cock hit the plump spot.
His tongue swirled over a sweat droplet on the King’s back before biting a piece of his flesh.
"S-Sugu, you feel so good," Satoru mumbled, meeting his rough thrusts with fingers gripping the grass. "So good, so good–ahhh."
Commander pulled back, this time placing both hands on Satoru’s creamy ass. He gave it a nice squeeze before leaving a rosy slap on the wet skin. The King’s walls tightened around his cock, and he barely held it in, trying to last as long as possible.
Just to cherish a view of the King in his most vulnerable form, with slightly foggy eyes and plump lips fallen open, while he tried to look behind at Suguru’s massive body, crushing his.
They spent hours on the hill, touching, kissing, caressing each other, with tongues swirling around their leaking cocks and shuddering breaths crushing in sloppy kisses.
Their hearts beat in union, and bodies knotted in clammy embraces, before a night has finally fallen.
The next day, the army marched towards Persia.
In a steady rhythm, with the King on the front and his dearest companion riding a beautiful, young horse right next to him.
His present.
She was rather lively, but of a kind heart too, and Suguru started to love her from the first ride. He didn’t wish to say it out loud, but he was rather sure that the raven mare with deep eyes reminded Satoru of him.
The last memories of Troy still clung to their flushed cheeks, but they didn’t show it. After all, to anyone outside the private chambers, they were nothing but a King and his Commander.
Days have passed, and they crossed the narrow waters of the Hellespont and left Macedonia behind. Marching into the new world of Minor Asia, with cities looking a bit different and the vast plains of sand stretching over the red sun.
They conquered the city after the city, with some gates welcoming the King rather loyally and others needing a little push. Some tried to resist, while others greeted them not as invaders, but rather as a fresh breeze of an important change, casting down what remained of the Persian rule with trembling hands.
Satoru moved through it all with ease and kindness whenever people bent to him royally.
When not, well, he believed that the burnt temples could be restored, and the lives of rebels would be lost anyway.
Everything here was soaking in crimson hues. The world of Persia felt richer, sweeter, bathed in warmer sunlight, and spices tickling his nose. While walking around the conquered cities, both men found their gazes lingering on every passing bazaar.
On heavy sacks filled with flowers and long robes of fine linen and wool, dyed in deep crimsons, saffrons, and indigo, flowing with every step like liquid beams. Their edges were embroidered with patterns unknown, and they traced the soft material with delicate touches.
The air was different – heavier. Carrying the warmth not only from the sun, but also from the kitchens spilling their scents into the streets, with the children’s laughter and women's unrushed hands kneading the thin breads. They have never smelled anything like that before – roasted meat glazed with honey and thick syrups, lamb slow-cooked until it feel apart beneath their fingers, breads baked flat against hot stone and still warm when torn open.
And the spices were everywhere, making Satoru sneeze every time they passed through a bazaar.
Cinnamon, cardamom, cumin and mint, woven into every dish and pushing their taste buds over the edge.
When the sun climbed too high to walk freely around the cities, they spent their days sitting in the cold, stone palaces, planning the conquest of the next cities. But they did it with bowls of dates and figs resting beside platters of cheese, while wine, much darker and much sweeter, flowed freely into their cups.
During the nights, they rested peacefully, lying on smooth silk and slipping into warm baths, with nothing but high dunes and a round moon lurking at their naked, woven bodies through the open terrace.
And while the cities have been slowly conquered, with the Kingdom of Macedonia growing in its power, one issue still bothered the ministers residing in the capital.
The King’s wife.
For how was it possible that a man of such a sort, with a power to behold the heavens, was yet to be married!
The question bothered not only the aristocratic girls and foreign princesses standing in lines to offer themselves to the handsome, young King, but his nobles too.
Where is the queen? They asked.
What about the heirs? They worried.
Everyone wondered, waited, afraid to suggest it to the King himself, as no one but a first Commander could handle his fierce character.
Thus, that is exactly why the nobles have sent Suguru Geto himself to offer the King a few beneficial alliances.
During the leisure time of preparing slowly for another battle, Suguru knocked on their shared chamber and held his breath.
You must talk to him, Commander. The queen and heir are needed!
That’s what he heard from desperate ministers, before getting sent on a mission to… find his lover a wife.
A muffled come in slipped from the other side, and Suguru opened the heavy door with a single push.
Satoru stood by his desk, with a loose, satin robe hanging off his muscular shoulders and liquid rays brushing his messy locks. He didn’t raise head and allowed Suguru to enjoy this cold, indifferent face he usually offered to everyone but him.
Ocean eyes focused on a map spread on a wide desk and a few stony figurines scattered all over it. Veins on his forearms bulged when he placed the palms of his hands on a cold stone, with fingers grasping its edges.
But then his look traced up, as if irritated that the guest dared to stand quietly and bother the precious, leisure time of the King himself. And when his furrowed brows met Suguru’s warm gaze, the heavy air filling the chamber mere seconds earlier suddenly changed.
Into something warm and intimate, with Satoru’s long legs crossing the distance between them and pulling his lover closer. He kissed his cheeks tenderly, and nose and corners of lips, before brushing away a lost strand of raven hair.
"Missed me that much?" Suguru chuckled, curling his arms around the King’s waist. "We saw each other this morning. It’s been only a few hours."
"Few hours too long," Satoru mumbled back, placing a quick kiss on the Commander’s plush lips. "The bed is cold without you."
"We are in one of the warmest cities in the whole region. I must assure you that our bed is nothing but cold."
Satoru hummed quietly, pushing the Commander away with a sly smile. "You truly are brave to conquer the King’s word," he went back to the map, moving a few figurines. "If I say I was freezing without your body by my side, then that shall be the truth."
Suguru joined him soon and looked down at the next campaigns they had carefully planned for the past few weeks.
Thin gleams of sunshine slipped from the open terrace, bathing the maps and strands of Satoru’s hair in gold radiance. Suguru raised a hand, brushing away a few strands from his forehead.
"The King seems to favour me solely," he said, and Satoru giggled. "You know why I came here."
Satoru knew.
That is why he ignored him and instead started to go through the whole campaign again. And again, and again, pointing at all the weak points that they should consider and reminding his dearest that for the next battle, he would take over half of the soldiers.
For there was no one else he trusted as much as Suguru.
"Satoru…" the Commander started, but the King continued to ramble.
He tried again, tugging on his elbow. "Satoru, listen…"
This time too, the King has ignored him and instead walked them towards the terrace. With a heart-stopping view overlooking the crimson bazaars and dipping sands, spread over the Persian soil like lush trails. The pomegranate tree was bending gently over the terrace, with dark pulps ready to burst.
"It’s rather sweet, isn't it? If you wish, I shall order to plant it in our royal palace," the King murmured, touching little buds.
"Satoru, you cannot ignore it–"
But Satoru was the most stubborn man Suguru had ever met, and even his gentle voice couldn’t bring back the obedient lover he was usually accustomed to.
"I can. And I will," the King said, avoiding Suguru’s gaze.
There’s no other choice, then.
"My King, you must take a wife."
Satoru straightened up, hearing the title he hated the most. Suguru avoided using it at all costs, but whenever Satoru wouldn’t listen, the name slipped away involuntarily. It always worked, with ocean eyes quickly meeting his and creamy forehead furrowing in annoyance.
"I won’t, and if those foolish ministers try to use you as leverage, I’ll behead them," he said, before turning back once again. "You can pass it to them, word for word."
Suguru chuckled under his nose, hugging his lover from behind. Nuzzling nose into his warm neck and placing a gentle kiss right behind his ear.
"Why are you so against it? You don’t have to spend time with her. Merely a few nights till the heir will be born," Suguru said, feeling under his arms how quickly the King’s body had tensed.
"I don’t need an heir," Satoru mumbled, feeling Commander’s arms curling around his shoulders.
Suguru chuckled. "Trust me, you do need an heir. Do you plan to rule till your death?" he asked, turning the man his way. "I thought we would spend the second half of our lives away from the court. In Mieza, maybe? Schooling the noble boys," his hand caressed Satoru’s cheek. "Or somewhere deep in the mountains. We could build a little house and live there together. Till death will drive us apart."
Satoru nuzzled into his warm palm, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. "Even death won’t stop me. I’ll find you in every lifetime, my dear."
His words pushed some strange buttons in Suguru’s heart, with a heavy muscle swelling under his lover’s sincere gaze. Satoru, too, raised his hand, caressing with a thumb a gentle curve of Suguru’s eyes.
Oh, how he loved them dearly.
This lavender warmth, impossible to convey in multiple portraits, the King has already ordered. With a colour so deep, but at the same time holding a youth glimmer, no paint in this world could ever capture.
"I don’t want a child if it won’t have your eyes," he suddenly murmured.
Suguru’s breath hitched.
So that was the problem.
"It shall have yours, my King. And I will cherish it as my own," slipped in a hum, but Satoru shook his head slowly.
"No, if I am to do it, you shall too." Suguru’s head tilted, but the King quickly added. "To have a child. And we’ll raise them together, as our own."
Suguru knew that Satoru had his own way of marching through the world, but those words knocked the air out of his lungs.
It sounded bizarre, outlandish, rather unlawful.
It made his heart flutter.
So it wasn’t that the King didn’t want an heir, no.
He just wished for nothing more than to have a family with his dearest one, who just so happened to be a man.
"What do you say?"
Suguru stayed quiet for the next few seconds, cherishing the hopefulness haunting his lover’s forehead. With eyes brimming with anticipation, the King should never show in such an open manner, and a cheek cuddling into Suguru’s hand.
Commander took a deep breath, before a quiet yes filled the afternoon air.
Satoru’s eyes widened. "Truly? You promise?"
Suguru nodded, and the King kissed him sweetly, with fingers curling around his collar.
"But only one child," Satoru muttered.
"What if it’ll die?"
A soft tsk rolled through the King’s lips. "I’m afraid that my patience will last only for one night. And even then, I shall think only of you."
Suguru tried to muffle a giggle, but his lavender eyes couldn’t hide the dancing sparks of amusement. "You speak of truth, my love," he brushed through Satoru’s white locks, leaving them in a mess. "You look most beautiful while spread under me."
And as they should discover soon, a chance for marriage came merely a few weeks later.
Together with an unfortunate event that left the Macedonian soldiers rather speechless.
There was a clash at the narrow plains of Issus, where the battle had unfolded between the closely pressed mountains. It lasted days, with lines breaking, reforming, shattering again under the force of two different nations, with the King at the centre of it all. Cutting through the Persian ranks like a beast, as if he had already known the outcome.
Then, the revolt came.
The King of Persia fled.
And with him, the whole nation cracked, leaving the vast country in the hands of the new ruler.
The dust of Issus had not yet settled when they found them. It still lingered in the air, clinging to their armour, lashes and hems of robes. The King has fled, but the rest of the royal family stayed, with his daughters and his mother sitting patiently in the royal pavilion.
As long as they would offer loyalty to the new King, Satoru didn’t plan to kill them.
They were just noble women with nothing to their name and thus were of no threat.
When two men in a company of a few other soldiers went to meet them right after the battle, something unexpected happened.
Bizarre, foolish even, with a queen Sisygambis kneeling in despair to the new King.
Or, well, to Suguru.
Perhaps it was the way he stood – steady, quiet, holding the same commanding air as his lover. Maybe his stillness and a certain kindness beaming from the gaze made the queen perceive him as a Macedonian King.
When her knees hit the floor in front of his looming figure, a murmur passed through the chamber. All the princesses hiding behind the queen kneeled too, and Suguru stood frozen still.
With furrowed brows and an awkward look, moving between them and Satoru.
"My King, I pledge the royalty to the new ruler. The royal family of Persia, from now on, shall be under your command."
For a mere second, no one moved.
Droplets of sweat started to coil on the guard’s foreheads, and some men closed their eyes, as if their minds had already predicted the burst of fury from the King’s side. They could already see the queen’s head rolling through the crimson carpets and the princess getting slaughtered similarly.
Oh dear, if it were the Macedonian court, blood would already flow through the marble halls.
But it wasn’t, and as it turned out, the King was not offended at all.
Perhaps rather cheerful, looking at the terror that washed over the queen’s face, after Suguru took a step back, hiding half behind Satoru.
To quietly let her know that he was not the one she should be bowing to.
"M-My King," slipped in a cry, as her head hit the stony floor. "My King, I’m terribly s-sorry–"
But Satoru quickly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. The tears prickled in her eyes, gazing at the King’s beaming face.
"It is no fault of yours," he said lightly, with a voice cutting through the heavy air. "He, too, is a King."
The words settled over the room like something sacred.
Like a decree that shall be sent over to the court.
A promise, most intimate one, for to speak of a mere Commander in such a manner was more dear than the betrothal itself.
It felt deep, almost loving, with Suguru’s shy smile not going unnoticed by the soldiers, and the Persian family itself standing frozen in confusion.
The Commander did not deny it, and it was enough for everyone to feel a thin thread closing between the little fingers of the King and his companion.
For just a short heartbeat, the world has mistaken one for the other. And neither of them had wished to truly correct it, because their minds and hearts and souls were truly of one abiding in two bodies.
✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎
Satoru Gojo married a Persian princess only years later, when, as a twenty-eight-year-old man, he became the conqueror of half of the world. The King of Asia, Pharaoh of Egypt, King of the World, as the Babylonian ministers enjoyed stating.
At the mere age of twenty-eight, Satoru Gojo was the undefeated one.
The strongest, needing no one and nothing by his side, but only the most devoted Commander, with whom, unfortunately, he was separated more often than before.
Conquering such an enormous piece of the world meant not only glory, but also a division of the command – different men stationed in multiple nations, armies went back and forth between the Macedonian capital and the king, who always stayed somewhere on the loose.
Suguru loved Persia, thus the king tried to stay there as much as possible, but other areas too needed his focus. Even with hundreds of thousands of men, catching his lover’s silky hair seemed to be rather impossible. With nothing but its strands brushing fleetingly against his fingertips.
Sometimes they would send each other letters, with an intimacy and affection spilling over the creamy edges.
My love,
Those days I’m rather cold without you. Is everything good in Persia? I’ve been kept in Babylon for far too long. Upon my return, we shall think of the Indian Campaign. It’s time, don’t you agree? I heard that the food in India is as delicious as the Persian food, and that cities burst with colour. I’m sure you’ll love it, and maybe we’ll stay there longer.
And when the Commander read his letter, he couldn’t help but shake his head and smile.
My dear,
Are you sick again? Please do not miss me that much, and enjoy your time as a married man. You must be the only person in this vast world to ignore his beautiful wife for a mere Commander. Do not let the Queen feel your indifference.
Everything in Persia has been fine, and I’ll be waiting for your return as always. First plans for the Indian Campaign have been made, and you shall see them after coming back.
No one exactly knew why it happened, but every time those two remained separated, the King always fell slightly ill. It wasn’t anything grave, truly, but a bizarre heaviness has haunted his heart, and body stood much weaker than usual.
A truly peculiar affliction, royal physicians wondered, as they were unaware of the intimacy between the King and his only true love. If they knew, maybe the King’s sorrowful face after leaving his Commander behind would make much more sense.
Their separations weighted heftily, but the moment of coming back to each other's arms always tasted sweet.
With the King ignoring the soft asks of his wife and all the ministers, and moving straight towards his chamber, till his eyes noticed a figure sitting behind the desk and warm, lavender eyes lifting up with a cheeky smile.
"Welcome home, my dear," Suguru would mutter, and a mere second later, his lips would crash against the King’s, in a long and yearning kiss they dreamed of every single night.
The first few evenings would be spent tumbling under the silky sheets, with only soft moans and quiet giggles accompanying their sweating bodies.
If the heavens existed, Satoru Gojo couldn't imagine it being somewhere high up on Mount Olympus.
No, his heaven was here, on earth, with a man carrying the beauty of the thousand goddesses and the kindness that twisted around the King’s body with protective love.
His heaven was him, spread under Commander’s muscular body and with the wet kisses slipping down his spine.
In his heaven, he could spend days walking around the Persian bazaars with his lover, and stuff him full of figs and pomegranates and sweet dates that Suguru was particularly fond of.
The truth was that in his heaven, there was no need for all the titles and glory. If in another lifetime he could live with Suguru as mere peasants, Satoru Gojo would be ready to exchange all his mighty power just to spend a few more years in his lover’s company.
For what were all the titles compared to the sweetness of Suguru’s lips?
"If you’ll die, my love, I’ll join you right after," Satoru had whispered on one hot night, with his cheek plastered to Suguru’s chest.
They sat in a bath, with the warm light of torches licking the deep night, spreading over the dunes and grains of sand moved gently by a sheepish wind.
"Do not think of it, my dear. There’s still time," Suguru murmured into the king’s wet hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "Even if, you shall not waste your life for me. We would meet in another lifetime sooner or later."
Satoru lifted up his eyes, looking at the commander’s kind face. "I do not want to go through this life without you. What would my purpose be, then?"
"To conquer the rest of the world, of course," Suguru lifted a hand, wiping away a few droplets of the king’s rosy cheeks. "You’ve been doing it for the past eight years, my dear. Why stop after my death?"
Satoru’s forehead creased, and Suguru quickly put his thumb between the king’s eyebrows, massaging the furrowed skin. "Do not bother yourself with this."
"I did it for us," slipped in a murmur, and Suguru almost missed it.
But when he did register those words, his heart fluttered.
"For us?"
"For you. Back then, in Mieza, you always talked about seeing the world," Satoru placed a gentle kiss right above Suguru’s heart. "So I conquered it for you. There are still many nations we should defeat, but my life from the beginning was always dictated by your wishes. There’s no need for me to live in the world without you."
There was a minute of silence before a shuddered breath slipped through the Commander’s lips. The King quickly lifted his eyes up, looking at his lover’s flushed face with a loving smile.
"Are you crying, my love?"
Suguru pushed out a crying laugh, with tears obscuring his vision. "You truly are a fool, my King. But I love you so much it hurts."
And after that, they once again slipped into comfortable silence. With Suguru’s melodic hum crashing against the waters and Satoru’s cheek plastered to his chest.
But the paths of life are treacherous, and both men were soon to find it out.
At the age of thirty-two, while moving from one city to another, with the merciless Persian sun burning through armour and bone alike, the Commander fell ill. What began as simple exhaustion and don’t worry dear, I’m fine, soon turned into something heavier.
Graver, with a fever haunting his sweating body, and eyes barely opened. By the time they reached Ecbatana, the air had begun to cool with early autumn, but it did nothing to soothe the heat raging beneath Suguru’s skin.
They came to celebrate the games and enjoy a few days of peacefulness, but the King wasn’t leaving Commander’s side even for a second.
The physicians came and went in hushed urgency, with careful hands and lowered voices, to not disturb the two men. One lying as if already passed, with purplish lips and paper-white skin, and the other squeezing his hand as if life depended on it. Herbs were burned, mixtures pressed to Suguru’s lips, and Satoru cooled his body with wet cloths every few minutes.
But it did nothing, and his lover’s brows were only creasing further, as if unbearable pain bloomed under his skin.
There were moments when Suguru’s eyes would open, just barely. With lashes weighted by exhaustion and an unfocused gaze slowly, painfully finding his dear ocean love. In those seconds, something almost like recognition flickered there, something that eased the tightness in Satoru’s chest for the briefest of breaths. His palm would caress Suguru’s cheek, as if to reassure him that I am still here, love.
Satoru was never one to pray, but on days when Suguru’s pulse was barely there, he would kneel all day by his side, with thoughts coiling solely around the pleading begging to the Gods to save his beloved.
With teary prayers towards Hades to take him instead.
He would lie next to Suguru’s weak body, with an ear pressed to his heart and mind focused on the warmth escaping his lover’s fingers.
But then a few days had passed, and a miracle happened.
On one morning, while lying next to Suguru’s body, the King felt a gentle brush on his forehead.
Fingers going through his hair and a soft sleep a bit more, my dear filling his ears.
When his eyes opened, a view of Suguru’s smiling face greeted him in a beaming light. He looked like an angel, with slightly messy hair and tired eyes, but still shining with this loving, lavender warmth.
On that morning, Satoru promised himself to plant lavender flowers all over the Macedonian soil, with its heavy scent reminding future generations of love that had once bloomed between the two strongest men in the entire world.
He quickly raised himself, placing a crying kiss on Suguru’s lips. And forehead, slightly feverish cheeks, even closed eyes, before a giggle rolled from the Commander’s throat.
"Satoru, don’t, you’ll get sick too," he muttered, trying to push the King away.
"I don’t care, I don’t care, my love," Satoru mumbled, kissing him for the last time. "I have never been more scared in my life."
Suguru chuckled weakly before a wave of coughing washed over his body. "How are the games? Have you joined any?"
Satoru slipped from the bed and quickly called for the physicians before he dipped a white cloth in cold water. He cleaned away the sweat covering his lover’s forehead, unable to look away from his eyes, Satoru hadn’t seen for so long.
Merely a few days, and yet it was enough to make him spin into madness.
"They start today, but I do not plan on participating."
"Why? Isn’t that why we came here?" Suguru asked sickly, but the King ignored him.
Instead, the wet cloth followed the small furrow between the commander’s brows before dipping down to the still slightly feverish neck and chest.
"How could I leave you? If the fever breaks again–"
"It won’t. I feel good, my dear," Suguru grabbed his hand, before placing it above his heart. "Do you feel it? Everything is fine. You should enjoy the festivities," he smiled, but Satoru wasn’t convinced. For he truly much rather prefered to accompany his sick lover than drink and feast with other soldiers. "Go and bring me some of the sweetest dates you can find. And tomorrow we will walk around the night bazaars, hm?"
Ocean eyes dropped, and Suguru noticed thoughts clashing in the King’s mind.
"You shall be okay, right?" Satoru asked with a voice much weaker than the Commander’s. "I do not want to go, but if that is your wish, then I should bring you some of the best fruits of the region."
It was not that Suguru truly wanted him to leave, but seeing the King in such a state, with puffy eyes and skin more pale than usual, was truly heartbreaking.
"Nothing will happen, I promise."
The physicians came in, and the King looked at his dearest one with a last, fearful look, as if it was the last time he was to see the warmth beaming from his eyes. Suguru’s lips curved in a loving smile, and he shooshed him away with a hand, as if sweeping a bee.
So Satoru left the chamber, going with his soldiers straight for the games and festivals.
The whole city bathed in colourful hues, and while feasting, Satoru could think only of how dearly his Suguru would love to see it all. To look at the young soldiers participating in fights, stroll around bustling bazaars with a smell of grilled meat swirling above the wooden tents, and laugh, with lips dipped in a sweet wine.
Satoru promised himself to spend here just a few hours, before going back to his Commander’s side. There was no need to enjoy the feast if Suguru wasn’t here, for even the simplest tasks were not enjoyable without his presence.
At some point, however, the Queen herself clutched thin hands on the King’s biceps, taking him back towards the busiest parts of the bazaar.
He remembered Suguru’s words, to make the Queen happy, so he followed her with an irritated smile and ears swelling from her chipper voice.
It’s been four years since their marriage, and they spend solely three nights together, with one more of a failure than another. For the King just couldn’t finish the job, and the Queen has never felt more ashamed of herself.
Not only ashamed, but angry too, seeing how quickly her husband was always going back to his separate chamber, filled with the presence of a man she detested.
But now, with the Commander lying sick, she could seize the King for herself and try to coo him. With her sweet laughter and doe eyes, looking at him from down below as if glancing at the god himself. She nuzzled against the King’s arm, fingers trying to entangle with his, but the King, somehow, still, attempted to do everything in his power to escape her viper clutches.
After a few hours, Satoru finally managed to slip away and go back to Suguru, with a bag of fresh dates squeezed warmly under his arm. As if such a simple thing could coax strength back into his lover’s body.
When he returned to the chamber, physicians were there.
But something… something felt different.
Strange.
Their faces were twisted in a furrow, and fingers clenched in nervous fists. A shudder slipped from their lips when the King came closer, with a golden smile not leaving his face.
"How is the Commander?" He asked, trying to walk into the chamber.
Someone stopped him. A hand, trembling, with fingers clutching his robe.
"M-My King," the same physician whispered, looking at him with an almost pleading gaze. Oh, he truly did not wish to be the one to pass this message. "The Commander–"
But his voice faltered upon seeing the King’s face.
Still, but with a slight beam in his eyes and head slightly tilted. With this boyish smile and hands grasping the bag of dates tighter, before a laugh slipped through his lips.
He stayed quiet, and thus the physician quickly continued, "The fever came back, it was t-too sudden, my King, the Commander felt fine, but then–"
Satoru lifted his hand, quickly shutting him up.
No, he thought.
It was impossible.
"Leave us, I'm sure the Commander will wake up soon," slipped quietly.
The physician furrowed. "My King, as I said–"
"Leave," Satoru pushed through him, going inside the chamber. "The Commander will feel better after a quick meal. I will call you when needed."
The man bowed, with lips trembling not in fear, but rather in grief.
For the sight of King's desperately hopeful eyes was simply too difficult to stand.
The heavy doors closed behind Satoru's straightened posture, before he recalled a warm smile on his face.
Something in the room changed – the temperature, the sweetness lingering in the air, the golden halo that usually beamed from his lover's figure.
And something else was new – a white, silky cloth covering the Commander's body.
"Oh my," Satoru mumbled, coming up to his beloved. "Suguru, it is too hot already. How can you breathe under it?"
His fingers grabbed the soft material and took it away in one quick motion.
But then... then Satoru met with the face he should never forget until the rest of his days.
Almost purplish, with skin so pale he quickly opened the terrace's door, although the moon hung high in the sorrowful sky. Commander's usually curved eyes went still, with no small wrinkles decorating their corners. Lips fell flat, violet, reminding Satoru of the lavender warmth he started to miss.
"Suguru, my love, I think the fever broke out again," the King murmured, trying to keep his voice still.
But he couldn't, and soon a shuddered breath pushed from his throat, with gaze getting hidden behind a gentle fog.
"It shall be fine, my love," he said, stroking the commander's hair. "It will be fine, do not worry, I–" he looked around frantically. "I bought you the dates, see?" rolled quietly, while he pulled out a small bag, taking out a little, wrinkled sweetness. "The f-freshest I found. Right from the field, you know?"
His hand reached out, fingers brushing against his cheeks, searching for the warmth he had felt for the past twenty years.
But there was none.
"Oh, are you cold, my love? It's okay, let me warm you up," Satoru moved his body, lying down next to his lover.
In the position he knew so well, with his ear touching Suguru's chest and ear placed right above his heart.
This time, however, he couldn't feel this familiar pulse that made his heart flutter.
This time, his other hand came to his face, fingertips pressing against his cheek, his jaw, as though touch alone might stir him, might drag him back from wherever he had gone.
"Suguru, how about I tell you about the games, hm?" It sounded like a murmur, but in fact, the King tried to do everything in his power to muffle the sharp cry that tried to force through his throat.
His fingers tightened, shaking now, pressing harder as if the body under him could still feel it, as if there remained some fragile thread that had simply been missed.
"Oh, maybe I shall tell you after you wake up, all right?" he sobbed, letting the heavy tears flow down his cheeks. "I will be waiting. Do not worry, sleep as much as you need. I am here. Always."
✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎
They said that Satoru Gojo did not take it well.
But that was not true, for there were no words that could describe the grief the King had spiralled into.
For the first few days, he lay in tears on the Commander's body, refusing to be parted from him. The dates were piling up on a small, wooden night table, and the King cleaned his lover's skin with special care, as if his touch alone could bring him back.
When the generals dragged him away, he spent days lying on the grave. The sun burned sizlly his body, till nothing but ugly, festering skin rose in bubbles on his skin. Not even the orange tree he ordered to plant could cover his weeping figure.
For a week, he tasted no food nor fluids, and his attention drifted away. Towards the high dunes, trees, and bazaars, he would not visit till the rest of his days. He could solely lie on his bed, with a firm body slowly withering away.
When his sadness faltered, an anger came.
Fury and brutality that the people have not seen before.
The main physician was hanged for letting Suguru die, and all the shrines of the God of Medicine were ordered to be burned.
For what was the aim of worshipping a deity who could not save a man, the King has valued more than his own life?
In Babylon, he raised a monument in his lover's name, and a letter has been sent to the Oracle in Egypt, to declare Suguru Geto a god.
The man, King, Conqueror of the World, who during the thirty-two years of his life has never lost a battle – could as well be declared dead.
People said he started drinking, that his temper grew sharper.
The golden glow radiating from his cheeky face was long gone, and since Commander's death, no one has seen the King smile again.
And sometimes, during silent nights, when the world was quietly closing around his hunched back, he would speak as if Suguru was still there. With a warm voice and a shy giggle, telling stories of their years back in Mieza and of all the later conquests they achieved together.
He would talk and wait for Suguru to embrace him from behind and place a loving kiss between his shoulders.
But the kiss and an answer never came.
His room would smell of withering lavender, with flowers hanging from the walls and ceilings, bathing the King in the soft glow. But even the colour he had loved so much for the past twenty years of his life could not bring him the same joy as it did when he looked into his lover's gentle eyes.
A year passed, and in Babylon, far from the hills of Macedon, the King suddenly fell ill.
Fever, physicians said, grasping Satoru into its relentless arms and pushing him onto the edge of suffering.
It started slowly, just as it had with the Commander – heat seeping into his bones, strength slipping through his dry lips, though he did not try to stop it.
In fact, he asked the physicians to leave him.
Do not try to heal me, he whispered weakly, for my only wish is to join him soon.
The King ordered to move his sick body to the Commander's grave on the Babylon hill, where the orange tree protected the cold stone from the crimson sun.
To leave him there and give the whole empire away to someone, the strongest, for he did not care what would happen after his death.
The only thing he thought of, every evening for the past year, was a place where he and his Suguru would be reborn.
Would they spend the next lifetime as simple farmers, strolling around the vast meadows of the Macedonian hills?
Or maybe in Egypt, somewhere deep in the heart of crimson country, to enjoy their endless days looking at the high dunes and dip tired feet in healing Nile?
Or... or maybe they wouldn't meet in the next lifetime, or even the second, maybe not the third, but in one of a thousand years away, in distant time, under different stars.
Whatever the circumstances, one thing was certain – they would find each other.
And one day, Satoru would once again have a chance to cherish the lavender gaze looking at him with a loving warmth.
Oh my, that was a ride and the most research-heavy story I have written so far. No one talk to me.
But also, unfortunately, this is the end of the Gods, Heroes, Warriors collection. I would like to thank all of you dearly for welcoming and cherishing it so warmly. Thanks to those stories, I could find my writing style and a niche I want to continue, although I'm aware that history-based works are not as popular as modern-set ones. It is fine, because I love writing them anyway and will continue to do so. I will post them in this collection, so I warmly encourage you to follow it too!
Thank you once again for cherishing this collection, and I hope you loved this last story!
