layout inspired by ree's amazing bbverse. bless that series.
summary: they didn't have a name when it all started, gathering at the jackal's den seemed subtle enough. now every soul in Osaka knows not to set a foot in that place without a set of reasons and at least one weapon of choice.
or; a series of your time working at the black jackal's favorite drinking spot and the course of breaking through the thoughtest of them all.
# genre: written standalones (mostly), mafia!au.
# contains: mentions drinking, smoking, gambling, violence, sex (no smut) and explicity language. probably bad depiction of mafia sorry this was inspired by the yakuza games and mf peaky blinders.
# status: in the works, updates will be really sporadics.
ORDERS: short stories and drabbles [tba]
⌟ bad company: mentions of drinking, violence
summary: it isn't your problem anymore when customers don't behave [wc: 1.5k]
⌟ right choice: mentions of smoking/drugs
summary: hinata interrupts your first private conversation with sakusa, and you feel compelled to return the inquiry. [wc: tba]
⌟ quiet fix: mentions of violence, blood
summary: you should be mad at the bar fight, but it's hard when sakusa looks at the small bruise in your forehead like that. [wc: 2.8k]
MENU: oneshots [tba]
⌟ at the crossroads: mentions of drinking
summary: there's a jackal's den before and after sakusa kiyoomi. [wc: 2.8k]
⌟ crossing lines: mentions of drinking, smoking, violence
summary: sakusa walks alone into your bar tonight. [wc: 2.2k]
⌟ lost in the crowd: mentions of drinking, sex and anxiety
summary: atsumu needs someone on his arm for this party, but your concerned gaze follow sakusa all night and, well, atsumu is a good friend. [wc: tba]
⌟ silent storm: mentions of drinking and anxiety
summary: the way he stumbles into your bar, soaked during the dead hours, makes him look far from sober. the truth is far more complicated than that. [wc: tba]
BAR TAB: side stories [tba]
⌟ notes found at the bar:
summary: an archive of thoughts left on the counter.
TIPS: extras
moodboard: mine
moodboard: by @nectardaddy !!
playlist.
e.txt: i said I wouldn't upload this weekend but well yakuza live action will be out soon and so am I and my bs. everybody give my husband nishiki kisses for me, he did nothing wrong ever.
also this will be a series that I'll just. leave it here. idk when I'll upload, but I want to keep it here for when I have my sakusa and angst urges! let's see where this goes. wyr if you're reading this ty for convincing me!!
Rindou is a fortunate man born under a lucky star, blessed with power, charm, and intellect. All he ever desires is found under his feet in mere seconds with ease. He was born with the the potential to own all his hearts desires. But he chooses to crave for the impractical; the Shibuya kingdom's sweetheart princess.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Tags ┆
NSFW AHEAD, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff and Smut, Safe Sane and Consensual sex, Love Confessions, First Times, Birthday Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Breeding, Aftercare, Mutual Pining, Rindou being a simp (we love that tho), Some political speech, Ran haitani being a spoiled brat, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence (But only in a one sentence and that's it), Minor Character Death, Bonten arc appearance Haitanis, , Arranged Marriage, Implied/Referenced Pregnancy, historical misogyny, Verbal aggression, Emotional behaviours, Morally grey characters, Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added...
The sound of your juices squelching around his lengthy girth as you squeeze him
Sucking him in
Pulling sweet gasp
Airy breaths from him
His head falling between your neck and shoulder as he picks up the pace
Your body spasms as he slams into you then grinds his hips
The head board going from light taps against the wall
To slams, sounding like he’s trying to break the wall down
Pussy drunk
So far gone
He lifts his head to look at you
Eyebrows scrunched up as if he’s heard something he doesn’t like
Eyes hazy
Clouded with love and focus
Focus on how warm and soft your walls are
How they pull him in and make his heart pound
How you make him feel so sensitive as if he could cum any. Fucking. Second
But he’s trying so hard not to.
Not when the feeling of you constantly cumming on him, walls fluttering and sucking him in
Squeezing him oh so amazing
He feels like he’s in euphoria with you
Sweet calls of his name with tears running down your soft beautiful cheeks, eyes filled with love and face contorted to pure bliss from the pleasure of him filling you so nicely
His soft lips melt with yours in a passionate open mouthed kiss.
It wasn't good on the first day. It wasn't good on the second day either. On the third, it was worse. Fourth just passed by. You don't remember much of fifth. But on the sixth... you smiled. A little. It was a tiny stretch. Almost invisible. But it was there and he knew while you could feel it. Something squirming in your stomachs like it's a snake hiding beneath a pile of sticks. It'll be too early to call it love. Because in arranged marriages, what born first is an immense feeling of strangeness. A mutual confusion. An utter sense of "you don't belong in my life" and "I hope it's all a bad dream."
But... on the sixth day, for the first time, it didn't feel like a bad dream.
"Dinner party at Tachiharas. We're invited." Standing across, you watch him voice his words. A big man. Handsome suit. Attractive jaw. Taiju Shiba could be wedded to any girl on this planet but fate chooses you.
On the third day, you remember how you broke and screamed, "just because I didn't have a say in this marriage, then that doesn't mean I'll spend my whole life living beneath you! My father traded me to save his business. But he forgot that I'm a human and not a thing. I have a heart. And no one can place a price on it..."
You expected Taiju Shiba to raise his heavy hand at you. That's what you've heard about him. A man full of wrath and arrogance. He doesn't let anybody have a chance against him. That's why you think his siblings left him to rot here alone in his big, empty mansion. There's not even a scratch of love in these walls. Even with three helpers, one cook and two gardeners, this place is as soulless as the center of hell. Only bodies. No warmth. Just diamonds to eat.
Crumbling there slowly on the floor, you expected him to kick you like you're a dog in his way. But... Taiju Shiba took a step back. His shiny black shoes retreating. You looked up. His face unreadable. He's a difficult man, you made out with tears plopping down from your eyes. Staining the expensive carpet beneath you deep red. Almost burgundy. "You and me, Mr. Shiba..." you sobbed. How rude anybody will think. To not call your husband by his name. "We're like two shores between an ocean. No matter how hard the ocean tries, it just cannot make two shores meet."
"It's fine if you don't wanna come." Present snatched you from the memories. It made you stand again opposite to Taiju with measurable distance between your shadows. You watch him place a brown paper bag on the chair before his bed. Our... You remember him saying this on your first night. "This... is our room. You'll stay here from now on."
In your reception dress, you stood there looking at the rose petals splayed on the mattress. Heart drawn with them. In between, the first letter of yours and his name. Sitting more closer than you believe you two could never be in real.
"Don't worry. You can take the whole bed." That's what he said. When you looked at him, he read the question swimming in your eyes. You didn't have to voice it. He just understood. "I'll sleep on the couch."
And he did so. That's where he sleeps everyday. He could've gone to any other room but you learned on second day that this mansion has got some little nosey workers. That day you woke up at 7. Your brand new husband still asleep. You felt a stabbing pain in your heart. This wasn't how you ever wanted things to be. A room to call your own but not the person in it. A marriage with no love. A wedding ring with no meaning. Empty vows. Empty kiss... Two people bonded by laws but what about hearts?
You brought a hand to your mouth to silence your sob. But it was too late. It ripped out of your chest. Made you shake like a leaf. The heavy man sleeping on the couch stirred and in another minute, you heard your own self say, "leave me alone" as Taiju tried to stagger towards you with a glass of water in his big hand.
You expected him to argue. But he didn't. He came to place the glass beside you on the nightstand. Looked at you for a whole second and then turned to leave. You gazed up briefly. Through the layers of water piling in front of your eyes, you watched one helper falling over the other when Taiju jerked the door open. This place is hell.
But on the sixth day, for the first time, it didn't feel like one.
"I know you don't like me." Taiju said, his head turned to his left. Looking at nothing in particular. "But trust me, I didn't marry you just because your father was in debt and he needed to make an alliance with me to save his company."
You frowned.
For a second, he didn't say anything. And for a second, you missed his voice. Deep and rough. Almost scary. But it suits him. Actually, everything about him suits him. His eyes, a frozen sunset. They suit him. His jaws, their hard lines. They suit him. His tattoos that poke out of his shirt to creep up on his neck. They suit him too. But something that didn't suit him was this soft expression on his face. It almost took you aback when he turned his head to meet your eyes.
"Your father doesn't care about you." He said it so plainly. Not caring how the daughter of the father in question will react. Before you could part your lips to bark at him, he held up his hand. You read the urge to speak in his eyes. He doesn't have to tell you to keep quiet. You just... understood. "If I refused to take your hand," he called, "then your father would have placed it in somebody else's. He gave me six days to think. Six days are not enough to choose whether you will love to spend your entire life with a person you've never met or not. But..."
Taiju sighed. He watched waterworks developing in your eyes. They were twinkling gently under the light in his dark room. Our. His word from five days ago ring in your head. Six days are not enough. Yes they are not. But...
"At the end of the sixth day... I wanted seventh with you." Weakly, he smiled. And no. No. It doesn't suit him as well. But... "After seventh, (y/n)..." a tear fell down from your eyes. No one has ever called your name with this softness before. "I wanted eighth... I became greedy. I admit. And it was on our wedding day I realised that... it doesn't matter how much time I want to spend with you. What matters is that, do you want to see the seventh day with me?"
It was a question both of you can answer. It was a question both of you knew had only one answer. But...
"No. You don't." Taiju called. A bitter laugh hanging on his thin lips. His hair. You didn't think about them until now when he made his fingers pass through them. They suit him. Another tear fell from your eyes. "I was a hell of a man before, (y/n). I made a lot of mistakes that I can't undo. But this time... I'm gonna make things better."
He took a step back. You took one ahead unknowingly. Your shadows still at the same distance. You both still two shores between the ocean.
"What are you thinking...?" finding your words, you asked. You met his eyes and you froze. He was crying. You almost missed the water trails on his cheeks.
"Divorce me."
You tilted your head. And he nodded, as if confirming his words.
"I cannot place any price on your heart, (y/n)."
But...
"I'm a fair businessman. Unlike your father, ofcourse." He tried to laugh. It doesn't suit him and even his throat knows. His voice cracked. He blinked his eyes and looked away from your face. Putting his big hands in his pockets, with the material of his wristwatch glinting, he slowly turned on his feet.
"There's a dress in it..." he said, surely meaning to point at the paper bag on the chair. "For the dinner. But I think you don't need it now."
You watched him leave his room.
Ours...
You watched the distance between your shadows increasing and increasing.
Six days are not enough. Yes. They are not. It's not enough time to decide whether you'll love to spend your whole life with a person you don't love at all.
But...
"I think you're right..." you mumbled. "I don't need this dress." Your words caused Taiju's heart to twist in his chest, he didn't stop walking. "But..." you looked down. Your shadows beautifully apart. Maybe some people are never meant to be. You thought. Though... are six days enough to reach that conclusion?
"But... I think, Taiju..." the said man halted. No one has ever called his name with such softness before too. "I need a seventh day with you."
Because yes. Six days are not enough to get habitual to call this room "ours." Six days are not enough to make these rings in your fingers gain their meaning. Six days are not enough to love this mad house. To fill colors in its lifeless walls. To know what suits this man or what not. No... six days... they are not enough.
Taiju turned to face you slowly. A dumb expression on his handsome face. Slightly, you smiled. For the first time on the sixth day, you wanted another with this person before you.
"What if it won't work out?" he asked then. A bare hint of fear in his words. On the sixth day, you learned what Taiju Shiba fears the most.
Loneliness.
"I hope it will..." you mumbled, taking a step towards him and watching the distance between your shadows decrease and decrease and decrease...
Maybe we both are like two shores. But I'll pray that time will teach us to build a ship so we can sail together on this vast ocean between us.
*:･ﾟ✧ thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. likes and rbs are highly appreciated— ♡
· ͟͟͞͞➳ SYNOPSIS : There are emotions primordial to all humans and gods, but only two of them are above Olympus: hate and love. And the (in)direct responsible for both is Eros, son of Aphrodite.
When Apollo — Haruchiyo returns from a violent clash with Python and meets Eros — Rindō again, the son of Aphrodite sees before him the perfect chance to finish unfinished business from the hateful past between the two, which leads him to use the love of Y/N, a young nymph, to achieve his goal.
✬. C✬NTENT: smut, violence, blood, mention of gore, manipulation, plus the very warnings present in each chapter.
✬. GENRE: mythology!au, magic!au, love triangle, slowburn, fastburn, fem!reader, slight enemies to lovers, fluff, heavy angst.
Warnings: f!reader, hybrid au, curse words, sexual themes, non-con cunnilingus, non-con somnophilia, biting (rindou has sharp teeth), blood, rindou injured reader once, reader almost drowned, mentions of experimentation, rindou has a big dick, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, and hints of fluff. Minors do not interact.
Note: commissioned by bby mari @marism 🥺💖 hope you like it!
Synopsis: The ocean is not only territory to big fish and predators alike.
✃WC: 4.1k
Studying marine animals in a tiny submarine was what you had in mind back when you were still a child, gushing about exploring the open seas. The thought of finding a rare species or maybe remnants of a megalodon was quite appealing to younger you, daydreaming of it one day while flicking through numerous picture books of whales and colorful fishes. But reality was often... disappointing, for lack of a better word.
A tiny submarine? All the foundation could give was a small sailboat you had to make do while out on the sea for six months. Studying interesting fishes or perhaps diving to study humpback whale behavior? Yeah, right... Your equipment wasn’t adequate for those nor your funds were. College has mostly eaten away your savings and the last thing you wanted was to end up homeless.
Still, you tried to find the joy in the boring long hours of scribbling data of common fish, waiting for something interesting that could happen in the tiny sailboat you had. Yet boredom was the hardest to get rid of, especially when you were all on your own.
Until life decided to give you a companion far more intriguing than any marine animal you ever came across with.
“Rindou, please don’t touch that.”
Looking up from the bucket that contained chum, Rindou’s purple eyes stared at you from where he sat cross-legged. The shirt you bought for him is too huge for his built, left shoulder bare for the world to see. At least it wasn’t his distracting abs on display. Now that you called for him, his attention was not on the disgusting contents of the bucket. You just wished he would be slightly guilty whenever he plopped right onto your lap as if that was where he truly belonged. Making himself comfortable there and urging you to pay him some attention, when you were supposed to be focusing on work.
“Rin, you know I’m supposed to be typing.”
“I know,” he simply mumbled, not leaving your lap. Instead, he leaned back against you. Though his weight was slightly crushing you, you did not have the heart to push him off or tell him to move. It wasn't like this at first between you two. Months of going back and forth, trying to understand each other were a bit grueling. Sometimes making you want to give up on the rare shark hybrid sitting contently on your lap while fighting the urge to poke a hole through your laptop screen with his sharp nails.
Meeting Rindou was quite memorable, for horrific reasons. A quick dip into the cool waters was your reward for yourself after finishing all the paperwork you had. Convincing yourself that this was all part of the research, you put on your bright blue bikini and exited the cabin where there was hardly any legroom. Maybe you’ll chance upon the cute turtles you saw the other day, was what you had in mind.
I mean, what could go wrong?
However, those turtles were not around that day—nor did they have the strength or the behavior to suddenly pull you under. Much less take a nibble on your thigh that was now bleeding, coloring the water near you crimson as you screamed bloody murder at the pain shooting up your nerves. Fear and shock were more likely playing a major factor as you thrashed around, wondering what the hell bit you. The instant image that materialized in your mind was a shark.
Yet, what greeted you was a man—no, scratch that, it wasn't human despite those legs it had instead of fins. Because there was no way this thing was while breathing underwater and staring at your horrified face with those almost dead-like violet eyes. He even had a dorsal fin on his back, lines that appeared to be gills on each of his sides just below his armpits. Even his skin was close to having that blue-ish color, hair reaching his shoulders vibrant in its hues of pink and purple. And fuck, those sharp teeth!
What the fuck?
Normally, a person bitten by a shark would’ve boarded the boat and called for help. However, as soon as you swam back to the sailboat, inspecting your wound that turned out only to be surface wounds considering the creature’s teeth didn't chomp off a part of your thigh, you remained there. Eyeing the strange thing every two seconds while disinfecting the bite marks and wrapping bandages around it. It hurt like a bitch to be bitten, but you were deeply relieved that it wasn’t a real shark. The thought of going back to the port and leaving whatever it was out there nagged at the back of your mind. That was until it spoke.
“That doctor was right. Humans don’t taste fuckin’ good.”
“W-what?” Anger bubbled up in your system when the creature’s words settled in your head. “You fucking bit me for that? To see if humans tasted good—what the fuck?!”
Everything was history from there on. He would often come up to the sailboat to bother you despite telling him to go away the moment the sun came up, leaving almost immediately when sunset arrived. Instead of letting you focus on your research about fishes around the area and the marine life there, the creature was often up to no good. From tasting your coffee to spilling it across your notes, you wished you could punch him in the face for all the trouble he has caused. This was how your relationship with the odd hybrid began and frankly, you didn’t like him at first. Rude, somewhat obnoxious, and cynical—that is what you’d describe him.
He wasn’t like the puppy boys or cat girls at all—far more... feral and relied on his savage side, is what he does. It was like having a shark for a pet, except it had two legs and a foul mouth. Whether that was an upgrade or not, you couldn’t tell.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” you hissed at the creature, holding back the urge to fling your wooden chair at him after minutes of listening to the tip of his nails being dragged and scratched on the side of the boat, irritating your ears and scaring any fishes away while you were typing on your phone. “The ocean is big—big enough for you to get lost in. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?”
“Nope.” He grinned quite smugly that you were sure you would’ve ripped his lips off if you weren’t keen on finishing up your work today before your head exploded out of exasperation. “It has been weeks since I saw a human being and you’re the first one to ever talk to me instead of leaving or dying out of fright.”
“Trust me, if it weren't for this job, I would've left the moment you bit me—which I haven’t forgiven you for.”
“I only did it for a taste test.”
“Fuck you.”
Rindou was his name. You wondered who gave such a nuisance a name, yet at the mention of a doctor, you didn’t have to figure it out. Hybrids were common to everyone and their grandma. The market for them rising over the years that companies around the world are often experimenting legally or not to make the next big thing. Just staring at this shark hybrid was a testimony to that. And when Rindou told you that he escaped the facility with his brother to see the world, you confirmed those suspicions.
“So... there’s two of you?”
At the idea of having not just one, but two annoying shark hybrids on earth made you crinkle your nose. One was already enough to have around, thank you very much.
Rindou nodded quietly, although he didn't seem happy with you asking and your interest in his sibling. The furrowing of his eyebrows was the telltale sign, making you even more curious as to why he felt that way. However, you didn't pry any further, for there was no point in doing so. At the end of the day, once your task here was done, you could be assigned somewhere else, moving further north where it gets colder. The possibility of becoming attached to Rindou when you were going to travel a lot had you gnawing on your bottom lip. This was merely a chance encounter. If you were to leave soon, there was no way he'd follow, right? After all, he did escape from whoever created him and certainly values his freedom not to get tied to another human again. Yeah, you mustn't get used to his temporary company. Rindou would definitely drop you any time soon and move on to the next entertaining item he could lay his eyes on.
Oh, how wrong you were to think that.
Three months since meeting the hybrid, Rindou has gotten far more comfortable around you. And surprisingly, you did too. Not that there were no differences to settle—there were plenty. It is quite amazing you and he has bonded together and formed a camaraderie despite those differences.
“You’ve certainly made yourself at home.” Eyes never leaving your laptop’s screen, you continued to type away your daily journal, logging everything that has occurred became a habit due to the nature of your job. Even if Rindou was around to pester you or somehow make you smile in the silliest of ways he could do, you still had to put bread on the table. “Don’t you wanna find your brother? Maybe explore the seas with him?”
“Still tryin’ to get rid of me, huh?” Rindou snickered, curling himself against your chest. You tried not to pay any heed to his head laying on your breasts, his muscles flexing, or how his ass was slightly grinding against your clothed pussy. There was no way you’d entertain that damning thought lurking in the back of your head, taunting you whenever the hybrid came back either naked or trudging around the sailboat in only the sweats you got him from your brief visit on the mainland. “I’ve gotten far too used to seeing your face to question your presence in these waters. Least you could do is let me stay here.”
“As I said, I’m here for work. Not playtime or whatever it is that's in that head of yours.” Mumbling, your brows creased at your sentences not making any sense because of how distracting he is. “And this boat is made for one passenger. One.”
“Your boss must be shitty not to provide you with a bigger boat.”
Silence once again envelops the tiny vessel, save for the sound of the boat rocking, the wind blowing on the sails, and the keyboard clicking. One would think his passive gaze on the laptop hinted at him being interested in the gadget when his eyes were elsewhere—your reflection. He’d never admit it aloud, not even to you, as to why he was still here. Indeed, the ocean was an enormous place and Rindou has yet to explore everything. But he’ll curse at himself for letting you go.
Ran may have been an obnoxious brother who frequently teased him at every chance he got, the older hybrid was frustratingly wise when he wanted to be. And when he and Ran managed to run free, the first thing his brother wanted to do was explore and find a mate.
“Rin, if you remain sulky and rude, the ladies won’t like you. How are you supposed to get through the mating season if you end up all alone, huh?”
Stupid Ran, of course he wouldn't end up alone. Now that he’s got you, Rindou wouldn't have to worry about jerking himself off until his palms bled for the entire mating season. You were physically appealing to him, loving the way your eyes sparkled whenever he made an unintentional joke or your hips that were a clear image of you capable of having children bumping into him when you were in a hurry to get out of the cabin. If he didn't know any better, Rindou could say he has found the perfect mate to spend his life with.
He may have won against Ran—who sadly isn’t around to bear witness—for the first time.
The remaining problem is, you didn’t know that was one of his reasons as to why he hasn’t left you alone. Thinking he was out here to snack on you whenever you weren’t looking or to annoy you until you leave. Poor Rindou didn’t know what to say or do at your harmless accusations. But he’ll rather die than beg you, knees on the ground and all, to become his mate. Rindou hoped you would make the first move in realization he was all you ever needed. Still, time was of the essence and summer was almost here.
He has to act fast before you become attached to someone else, having him inevitably spend more lonely nights in the water with no one to warm him up.
Finding the opportunity to get you alone wasn’t the hard part, thankfully. Rindou was all you had out here in the ocean. Yet, he had to compete with your work and other papers for your undivided attention. Then, there were those impromptu visits to the mainland, finding no sign of your vessel. Numerous times had Rindou thought you were gone for good until he spotted your sailboat about to head back to the same area that evening. He even began to assume were onto him, knowing his ulterior motives. Rindou was sure he’ll end up with a splitting headache if he has to come up with multiple excuses as to why he was cornering you before he could get to kiss you silly for putting him through such turmoil. Completely unaware and oblivious of your problems.
“Rin, c-could you sit on the bed instead?” Shuddering at his sharp fingernails drawing mindless patterns on your thigh, Rindou slightly flinched at your words, scared he must’ve hurt you or caused you to become uneasy. He was about to turn and apologize when he smelled it—something sweet wafting near your legs, in between your quivering thighs. The noticeable way you averted your gaze when he questioned your behavior was all he needed to know that you were on the same page as he is, albeit in denial. “What? Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
Rindou couldn't help but grin.
One day, while the sun’s rays were blocked by the cloudy skies, the chance was finally brought to him in the form of finding you fast asleep on the wooden foldable sun lounger you had. A notebook splayed open on your lap with its pen on the ground, having fallen there when your eyes shut tight to have a little indulgent nap. Rindou was nowhere to be found all day so you decided to take the rare hours of peace and write to the point it made you feel lethargic. Leading up to this moment of him finding you all vulnerable.
Hours of staying underwater with his thinning patience have definitely paid him off.
Boarding your sailboat through the stern with all the silence he could muster, Rindou approached your sleeping form. The sound of water dripping on the wooden floorboards failed to rouse you. Lilac pupils darkened at the sight of your hardened nipples seen through your dress due to the cool passing winds. How could he stop licking his lips that were itching to wrap around your areola? Or his cock twitching in broad daylight at the thought of being able to kiss you finally?
For a split second, Rindou didn’t know what to do with his newfound opportunity, slightly overwhelmed. Bending down, his eyes failed to read the scribbling you did, containing notes of dolphins, and sharks that then came to the topic of the hybrid now in front of you lifting the hem of your dress’ skirt. Notebook now askew on the ground next to the pen, Rindou felt his dry mouth water while slowly sliding down the thin material of your underwear. Pupils coming up to check on your face to see if he awakened you. Luckily for him, you never budged. Rindou soon came face to face with your warm pussy folds.
He couldn't believe you’ve been keeping such a pretty little thing from him. How could he miss this?
Similar to a parched man who discovered water in an oasis, Rindou dipped his head into your pussy, hands gripping the plush of your thighs and pushing them apart. His tongue was on fire, he presumed, unable to stop licking and tasting your juices. A low groan rumbled in his throat that had you shifting in your seat. But Rindou didn't care. He didn't care if you suddenly woke up to see him in between your legs or if you’d scream at him to go away. Because he would rather stay there in between your legs where he believes he belonged.
Your essence was sweet on his tongue, urging him to lick you more and see if he could have you gushing on his face. Aiming for it to coat every inch of his skin and permanently tattoo your taste on his lips and mouth.
Such boldness in him immediately dissipated when you whimpered. The effects of his tongue giving kitten licks on your clit had you squirming, eyelids fluttering open to see what was happening. All that greeted you was air and the sound of water splashing. Rubbing the sleep off of your half-lidded eyes, you stood up to inspect what made the noise.
Wait a minute, did your panty seem… loose and damp?
“Rindou? You’re back.” Stifling a yawn, you propped yourself against the railings. Rindou merely waved, wading to the stern once again, acting like he didn't stuff his face in between your legs seconds ago. He could still taste you in his mouth, tongue licking his front teeth while he climbed. Upon seeing your relaxed expression, his cheeks flared up at the image of your cute pussy now engraved in his mind.
He can’t do this—not after he had a taste of you. He should’ve known this would happen, him wanting more. How could he not crave for it? He’d be out of his mind if he’ll just give up what was so close.
Moving away, you tried not to stare as Rindou’s naked body rose from the water. Wet feet padding to the cabin to grab the clothes you gave him and a towel. Once you heard the door shut, you then turned to pick up your pen and notebook. Some of the ink had been smudged by what seemed to be saltwater, which was confusing.
How did this end up getting wet?
Emerging from the cabin with sweats on, Rindou had a towel around his shoulder. Putting away your notes, you tried hard not to stare at his taut muscles or his broad back.
“Where have you been? I was worried you were hurt or something.”
“Around.”
Nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders, he brushed past you to sit near the ship’s bow. Rindou’s fingers were quivering, the urge to just grab you and kiss you right there while you rambled about your research was stronger than ever. If he were to kiss you now, would you welcome him as a mate?
Countless 'what if's raced through his mind, yet one prevailed. The feeling of your throbbing clit, slick pussy folds, and the welcoming heat dizzying and clouding his rationality. The savage voice inside his mind screamed for him to take, take, take.
What if he visits your cabin tonight to taste you again?
Night fell on the ocean, the calm waves slightly rocking the vessel and you to sleep. The papers on your desk are neatly stacked on top of one another for once. The night lamp you placed on the nightstand cast a soft glow around the cabin whereas the moon and stars illuminated the darkness outside. Slumbering form blissfully oblivious at Rindou standing outside the door, hand on the knob.
For the first time since knowing you, he stayed until the sun set. He never lingered long when the day was over, afraid he’d snap if he saw you under a soft atmosphere. Guard down, letting exhaustion influence most of your actions—Rindou knew if he saw you in those shorts and silky tops you had tucked away in the cabinet, ignoring your protests and commands not to touch your stuff, he was sure to crumble.
So when he entered your room, carefully shutting the door behind him, to see you swimming in the blankets, merely wearing a top—no shorts or underwear, it took everything in Rindou to fight back a groan. Feeling like he has walked into a spider’s web, the hybrid approached you with small steps.
Shit, did you always sleep like this?
Wandering hands cooler than the ocean’s kiss caressed your thighs, making their way up to the smooth curves of your hips. Rindou’s lips inches away from your stomach, hoping to press a kiss there and possibly mark his way up—
“Rin…dou?”
Fire seared his hand the moment your hand wrapped around his wrist, shooting up in alarm at what he was about to do. Smoldering amethyst hues staring at your surprised eyes that were assessing the situation. Silence sat in the space between you two, simply staring at one another. You didn’t know who was the first to pull or push—your arms wrapping around his neck while Rindou’s mouth found yours. Lips and tongue in a fervid dance, unlocking the gates where passion has been building up, overflowing into every action. His fingers gently and carefully rub your opening, slick dripping out with each circle drawn on your clit.
“Rin—inside, p-please. Need you, fuck. Need you and more.”
Rindou wasn’t so sure what to say or how to explain his actions, words lost while his huge cock split your slick pussy. Ready to meet every request you threw at him. All you had to ask, aiming to please. So when you wanted him to fuck you, he’ll ask how hard.
Gummy walls trying their best to clench around the thick and long girth slowly but surely bottoming out. A whimper slipped past your lips, a lone tear dampening your cheek while anchoring yourself. Once he was buried deep inside your wet cunt that hugged his throbbing shaft, you were sure you could be sore in the morning. Yet you didn’t care. Months of merely gawking at Rindou, hoping to create some distance so you won’t end up making yourself look like a fool seemed too long ago. Moans mixing with his pants and grunts, whining at his nails digging into your hips while he pistoned his hips against yours.
“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good, princess. Should’ve taken this pussy and claimed it mine months ago,” Rindou hissed, brows furrowed in concentration, drinking each and every change of your expression sunkissed with ecstasy at the way his cock’s tip reached your cervix without challenge. Your tits bouncing harshly at every thrust, hypnotizing to stare at. The carnal desire to fuck you until the mating season comes and ends poisoning his mind. To claim, breed and own you. “You like that? Like how my cock is filling you up? This could be yours, baby. All yours if you become my mate. Will you let me? Please say you will.”
Full, you felt so full to a point you were sobbing on his neck, nodding at his statement and begging him to go slower in between whines. Mouth in an ‘o’ shape at the stinging pain his teeth caused when he bit you on the shoulder, marking you as his. That was all it took for you to cum, nails digging into his forearm while keening, back arching, and vision turning white. Rindou winced at the abrupt squeeze, causing him to blow his load into your warm pussy and painting every muscle white with his seed.
In the midst of calming your pounding heart, you grabbed a compact mirror to examine the bite mark Rindou gave you that was slightly bleeding. It wasn’t ugly, but it sure would be unpleasant to flaunt around. Turning your gaze at the hybrid who was now your lover, you frowned.
“Did you really have to do this?”
He shrugged. “It’s in my instincts, baby.”
“Let me bite you then, and let’s see if you like it.” Teeth digging into his shoulder, you narrowed your eyes at him playfully to which Rindou chuckled at your attempt to inflict pain. Hand patting your head.
“I don't feel a thing, princess. Although, I won’t object to having that mouth around my cock.”
tell me why i’m waiting, for someone, who doesn’t give a fuck about me.
PAIRING … gojo x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader | CONTENT WARNING … smut (mdni), name-calling, unprotected sex, unrequited love, angst, not proofed | WORD COUNT … 1.5k
SUMMARY … you’ve long since known that you would mean nothing more to gojo satoru than just another lay, but this time, you’ve had enough.
NOTES … idk how this came about but i needed to try to get out of a slump, sorry if i’m a little rusty <3 likes & rbs always appreciated.
You’d rather be a little something, than nothing at all.
The party outside drones on, but it’s nothing more than mere background noise for the both of you. You’re sure Getou is going to kill the both of you for ruining his sheets, but right now, neither of you could care less.
“S-Sato—”
His quick hands shoot up to clamp over your mouth, grip impossibly firm around your cheeks, beautiful cerulean eyes emerge from behind his white tresses, looking down at you with a hint of a warning behind their unrelenting glare.
Yes, a simple warning you know all too well: Shut up, you’re about to ruin the illusion.
synopsis ~ ran haitani. one sick son of a bitch. he finds himself interested in a group of friends, more directly to one of the friends. the only reason he’s interested though, is to see how fast they could survive a killer living in the walls of their vacation house.
cw ~ gun mention, stalking, mentions of murder
(things start partially this chapter and next chapter, so get ready <3)
SYNOPSIS — you’re an assassin. as simple as that — you kill people for a living, but that doesn’t mean you enjoy it. yet, you’re the best in your field of work. however, after a failed mission — who would think the american diplomat had such a good security team? — you needed to hide. after getting in touch with an old childhood friend, who is now the leader of the biggest crime organization of the country, he makes a proposition to you: his number two is also in need of a cover, after a failed mission, then why don’t you two live as a fake married couple? you accept without thinking twice, but he has a daughter. that isn’t a problem, but he hates you too, and you don’t know why.
GENRE — spy x family au, bonten au, slice of life au, slow burn, strangers/enemies to lovers, fluff, angst.
CONTENT — violence, blood, eventual smut, mentions of killing and gore (also be aware of the warnings in each chapter).
the series will be updated every sunday, at 10am (gmt -3) !!! with exception of the first three chapters, which will be posted at 3pm (gmt +2)
summary: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.
pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, royal au, based off of the story from 1001 arabian nights
word count: 10.7k+
warnings: dark content, mdni, 18+, mentions of killing, mentions of taking virginity, has the gallows and a noose in it, praise!kink, corruption!kink, cunnilingus, fingering, cum eating
note: for those who don't know, baba means dad, and aziz/azizam means my dear in farsi. this story loosely follows 1001 arabian nights, but not completely. i wasn't gonna sit on my ass and write them all out 💀
also a big, big, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading, ty sm bby!!
jjk masterlist
---
The palace smelled deeply of rose petals, a scent so distinctly comforting that you couldn’t help but smile giddily as you walked down the vast halls, looking at the different amenities the palace had to offer as you searched for the room you knew your father would be residing in.
The more you walked, the darker the halls got and the less the smell of rose lingered in the air, a warning to stay away from this part of the palace. Though you had no choice but to ignore the prominent warnings, your posture became more frigid as you hummed a tune you had heard in the bazaar to keep yourself busy.
You were well aware of the fact that your father resided right next to the king's quarters, so as you slowly opened his door to make sure no noise was heard, entering as you noted your father sitting on the edge of his bed, his wrinkly hands enveloping his tethered face as he could barely bring himself up to look at you.
“Baba,” Your heart dropped, running over to his frail body, your hands checking his forehead as your eyes filled with worry, “What’s wrong? Does your back hurt? Oh,” You noted his worn-out hands, “You have to let the king find another vizier,” You kneaded his hand with yours, “You cannot be his helper forever,” You cracked a gentle smile, but instead of his usual banter, he shook his head, still not looking up from his bed as he sniffled.
“Baba?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. Your father never cried. Never. Not when your mother died, not when the old king died, or even when you had managed to ruin his silken clothing. Despite his hardships, he was the man of the household, and he held himself to that standard.
But here, he looked like the shell of a man. His shoulders were hunched, lips pale as he shuddered, pushing your hands off of his back as he weakly stood up.
“Y/n,” He stared at the door, eyes quite dead as he refused to look your way, terrified that if he did he would crumble to his knees and beg for an apology. Even worse, if he looked at you, his resolve would shatter and he’d leave the room as fast as he could, “Azizam,” You watched as a singular tear rolled down his cheek, “You will have to forgive me.”
You shakily rose, brows scrunched up in confusion as you let out a question laugh, walking over to him to see what he was talking about, what had gotten him so shaken up that he used such an endearing nickname he had never used before this day.
“The king has asked for you to spend the evening with him,” He muttered, voice hoarse and raspy as he broke down into tears again.
“He…” Your shaky hands flew to your lips, eyes wide as you stumbled back, “He what?” Your frantic questions went unanswered as your father let more of his endless tears fall, wet lips holding back silent sobs as he turned back.
The king, a dreaded name for those around the palace. You childishly thought that being the daughter of the vizier would somehow spare you of the torture, of the horror that came with going into his quarters at midnight.
He said nothing as he crumpled down to the floor, hands covering his eyes as you stared at the door, the same one you had entered through, and the same one that seemed to mock you as your hands shook at your side.
One evening pleasuring the king meant spending the next morning dead.
---
Servants flocked to the room shortly thereafter.
They paid no attention to the old man as they ushered you outside, their nimble fingers working swiftly as they led you to a completely different room, stripping you bare as you worked mindlessly.
You fell into the large basin, cold water splashing across your body as they worked in silence, some here and there whispering words of pity to one another as they gossiped about your father's weakened state.
You knew that deep down, sooner or later, this day would come. That one night they will take you to get clean and pretty so that the king can spend his lonely night with a virgin to bed, and by morning have her dead so that she may not betray him.
You could guess why you were giving off no emotions as their hands scraped your body rid of the dirt and dust, rubbing rose petals across your flesh, running water through your hair as they worked quickly and effortlessly.
At this point, you knew they had done this many times to know to be quick with the king's impatient temper.
You seemed to be like a mindless doll as they carried you out of the tub, staying quiet as one lady braided your hair, gentle as she wove flowers into the crown of your head.
You watched as the other carefully dotted the roses across your cheeks, dipping her finger into the jar of honey as she brought it up, careful not to let any of it to waste as she swiped it across your lips, her eyes filled with deep sorrow as you stared out the windows and into the dark veil of night.
“You look very beautiful, azizam,” The old lady behind you muttered, her kind hands letting go of your hair as she gave your shoulder a gentle pat, “I’m sure your father would be proud of his daughter for serving the nation.
Serving the nation in your one day demise.
“You have not been…” The old lady sighed, looking away as her hands fell to her side, “You have not been bedded yet, yes?”
You slowly shook your head, muttering out a quiet no as she nodded, ushering out all the other ladies as she came to your view, dropping down so that she was level with your knees.
“You are the vizier's daughter, so you must know,” She stated, her hands holding your cold ones as she pressed a soft kiss to the backside of it, “After you go into his room, he will tell you what he wants. When morning comes, he will have you killed.”
“I have heard it’s quick and painless, " She sighed, giving you a sad smile, “Yet those who have experienced it cannot tell the tale, and so I don’t want you to weigh too deeply on my words, okay aziz?”
The old lady looked down at your hands as she took in a shaky breath, lifting your chin as she patted your cheek carefully.
“The time is almost midnight,” She said and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “He should be expecting us soon.”
---
His quarters were cold, that was the first thing you noticed.
You expected frost to be on the windows, and your breath to be visible in the moonlight, but you could only shudder as you looked around the candle-lit room, wondering when the apparent king was going to make his appearance.
Your shoulders were covered by the robes they had given you, but you still shivered as you took a slow step forward, expecting an echo to follow suit.
You jumped when the door behind you clicked opened, and you looked behind to see his looming shadow behind you, growing slowly as he took steps forward, and you could feel his icy gaze taking you in.
His white hair matched the surroundings, and his eyes, oh his eyes. So blue, such a color seemed to be unknown to humankind. You wanted to reach in and hold his face so you could see if he had diamonds in his sockets, but you knew to restrain yourself, straining your spine as you matched his stare.
You had heard of the king's attractive outward appearance. Even when he had ordered for his old wife and her concubines to be executed, many of the women of the nation volunteered to fill her place as they never thought a man with such grace could be so cruel.
“My king,” You said with a deep bow, the shawl that loosely covered your shoulders almost slipping off your skin at the movement.
“Are you Y/n?” He asked, his voice deep and rich as he circled you, taking in your hair, the way your face seemed to shine brightly with the help of the candles, and how the robe around your shoulder hung snuggly around your body.
“Yes,” You bit out, swallowing your fear as you turned with him, not wanting the man to see your true emotions.
“You’re the oldest daughter of Ja’far?” His gaze traveled across your frame, settling seconds longer on your lips until they left as they glanced at the window.
“Yes,” You said through clenched teeth, the unsettling blue in his eyes reminding you that you were simply a lamb in the lion's den.
You watched as he slowly nodded, his jaw set in place as he glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering rose scent that lingered in your neck and wrists.
“I’m Satoru,” He said, though you already knew that, “And I can assure you that these next hours aren’t as you’ve heard,” He mentioned with a tilt in his voice, but that only made your heartbeat more erratically, most likely the opposite of how he wanted you to react.
He worked by taking his gloves off, slender finger after slender finger, and he dropped them somewhere to the side, running a hand through his hair as he turned his back towards you, sighing deeply as he pinched his nose.
He moved to get something behind you, a drink the servants had laid out for him as he took in a heavy sip, his lips tainted red with the wine as he stared at the back of your head.
His hands were slow yet delicate as they found their way up to your hips, and you let out a quiet yelp as you felt his cold fingers tracing the patterns that adorned your robes.
“You’re pretty,” He muttered, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck, making you shiver, almost making you forget where you were as you felt your knees wobble from the weight of your body, “Haven’t seen you before, have I?” And you weakly shook your head, your heart pounding roughly against your ribcage as you felt his lips land on the skin beneath your ear, surprisingly gentle and warm as they kissed and nipped.
“You’re sweet, too,” He observed, and you could have sworn that have only lined your lips with honey, but he seemed intent on his statement, his lips moving more quickly as his hands reached up to the strings that tie your robes together.
And you froze, knowing that if he were to proceed, he’d surely kill you in the morning. And wouldn’t allow yourself to die tomorrow. You could not die to a man who wanted nothing more than to take your humanity and then dispose of you as if you were stale rice. You had a life planned outside of the palace walls, and you knew that deep down, this king could be manipulated in his fragile state of mind.
Your eyes darted around the room, trying to find anything to secure yourself until they landed on a jeweled knife, its handle crusted in rubies and emeralds and your eyes widened slightly with a mad, certainly mad, idea.
It was sharp and cleaned with precision. Sharp and versatile, and you didn’t doubt he had used it in the act of killing.
“That knife!” You sputtered out, stuttering as you stumbled forward out of his grasp, almost hoping you could swallow the words back at the way he snapped his head towards you.
“What?”
“A man once used that exact knife to get through the mountains of Zagros,” You quickly regained yourself, mind running quickly, two sides of yourself debating between doing this or sleeping with the king to quicken your eventual death.
The king stared at the knife for a couple of seconds before looking at you once again, his brows furrowed.
“Excuse me?”
You straightened your shoulders once again, clearing your throat as you tried to regain your confidence.
“A man that went by the name Aghā Ali,” You said, voice barely coming out of your throat as you tried to think of something as quickly as you could in your messed state, “When his daughter fell ill to the plague, he became desperate to find a cure. The village apothecary told him to go to the Zagros mountains and cut the red flowers he’d find in a field,” You nodded your head in the direction of the knife, “And he used a knife just like that one to cut the stem of the flowers when he found them…”
Silence fell in the space between the two of you, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest as millions of ideas running through his crystalline eyes.
“Are you telling me a story?” He asked incredulously, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.
You cleared your throat, trying to shrug it off as you stared back at the knife.
“I’m simply stating that a man once used that knife before to save his daughter.”
“How do you know he used my knife?” He was testing you now, you could easily tell. His lips had curved into an evil smile, a cat's grin as he took a step closer to you, sensing the fear that still radiated off from your body.
“W-well, not your knife, but one that looked much like that,” You explained, swallowing dryly as you tried for a sweet smile, one that he might like, as you continued.
“His late wife had given it to him as a present, and so he used it wherever he went, for whatever that he could.”
The king didn’t say anything, so you took it as a sign that he wasn’t angry yet.
So you moved, putting on the facade of somebody confident in their story as you slyly moved behind him, causing him to follow your quick feet as you walked over to the table, careful as you picked up the heavy dagger.
It was strange in your hand, and you could tell how uneasy he felt with the weapon in your hand.
So you set it down, nodding as you swallowed your spit once again.
“Ali didn’t know his way around the mountains, so he got lost frequently in search of the flower,” Your fingers traced the rubies, shaking as you turned the knife over, running a pinger across the blade as you winced when it slit your skin, your blood staining it a bright red as you felt his eyes follow you.
“And because he had no map he went off of instinct alone,” You moved around the table, eyes darting to the slick pillows and shawls fit for a king.
“At night, he would lay under the moon and use his knife as a way to cut the animals open so that he could eat them for dinner. The mountains didn’t have anything big such as deer or goat, but he could hunt the occasional rabbits, even duck if he were lucky enough to pass by a lake.” You looked up at him from your lashes to see what he was doing, and much to your surprise he was staring back just as intently.
“The man knew that with each passing day his daughter would be getting sick and sicker, and though she was stronger than his wife in terms of physical strength, the plague took no longer than a month to kill even the strongest of the king's soldiers, according to the village apothecary.”
Your robes felt heavy on your sides as you moved around the room, feeling the weight of everything slow you down as you tried to quickly think of more things to drag the story on.
“So he continued the track across the mountain, getting weaker by the hour, more tired by the minute and he still could not find the flowers he needed to heal his daughter.”
“Why go through so much?” The king interrupted, clearly annoyed with the way your story was going.
You stammered at the question, brows furrowing as you tried to make sense of it.
“Go through so much?” You repeated, shaking your head, forgetting who you were and where you were as you tilted your head to the side, “ I’m not sure I understand,”
He shook his head, looking at the dagger as he simply shrugged.
“The old man must be withering away in these conditions. If the girl would die in a matter of weeks, why should he push himself to such an extent?”
“Because it’s his daughter,” You quickly argued back, eyes narrowing as the king moved forward, taking off his heavy coats as he sighed in relief at the release of the material.
“And?”
“Well…” You sighed; realizing this must be difficult to explain to this particular man, “He cares for her and he doesn’t like to see his daughter in pain. He’s going through all this hard to make sure that she’ll be alright.” He scoffed as his hands found their way to a bowl, taking out one of the dates as he chewed on it before he spits the seed out.
“That seems like a figment of the imagination,” The king chewed and then swallowed, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he explained, “Fathers don’t care much for their daughters.”
A part of you boiled in outrage at the statement.
“Perhaps some don’t, my king, but that doesn’t mean all fathers carry no ounce of care for their daughters,” He could see your tremor fade off as it soon got replaced with fiery anger.
“No?” He asked coyly, talking out another date as he repeated the same actions.
“No,” You said without letting your voice waver.
“Then why did your father offer you up tonight? Surely he could have picked your other sister if he cared for you that much. Or the servant that’s standing right outside my door. Or maybe even the girl who cleans up the horse shit in the stables. Surely a fathers love my reach beyond that point, no?”
You could feel your resolve crumble as you listened to his words, your heart heavy isn’t the small expanse of your chest as you refused to breathe properly.
Did he simply offer you up as easily as the king was saying? Just like a lamb for slaughter?
“Just as I was saying,” He continued, happy with your obvious shock, “I find it rather hard to believe that Ali would go through the mountains of Zagros to find a flower for his dying daughter.”
He looked pleased with your silent state, watching keenly as you swallowed the thick lump accumulating in your throat. You took in a deep breath, controlling the shake in your voice as you stared at something behind him.
“The old man was relentless,” You continued the story, pretending that your conversation with the king was nothing, and missed the way his face fell for a second, taken back by the way you could compose yourself with clear tears making their way into your waterline, “But the flower was hard to find.”
“One night as the man was cleaning out his rabbit, he stopped when he noticed the rabbit had red petals lining the fur near its lips.”
“And so he cut the stomach to find it full of red petals, the same color as the flower he was so desperately trying to find.”
“The next day he went in search of rabbits with the same fur, and that night he was able to catch another one with the same petals in its stomach.”
“And so the old man followed the trail of rabbits until he one day, miraculously stumbled across a field full of the red flowers.”
“He was eager as he stuffed them in his satchel, memorizing the path he had taken as he passed by the old streams and lines of trees, his bad bursting at the seam with red relates and green stems.”
You stopped, tilting your head to the side as you gave out another yawn, oblivious to the fact that in the minutes you had spent thinking of more to tell, and in the hours you had spent explaining the complexity of the story to the king, the sun had begun peeking its way through the mountains.
“So when he got back home, his daughter told him that she only had a couple of days left to live before the plague got to her,” You didn’t notice how the king had risen from his satin seat, walking slowly over to you as his impatience got the best of him.
“And then?”
You whipped your head around at the sound, heart beating wildly in your chest at his unexpected voice.
“He cut the flowers up and mixed them in with tea, and each day he’d double the amount of the flowers he would use,” Your bodies were close to each other, so close that despite his tall stance you could feel his breath hitting your cheek, his eyes following the rise and fall do your chest.
“Did she not like the tea?” His voice was taunting and you shook your head, trying for the same menacing smile he was giving you.
“No,” You moved away from him, your robes swaying behind you as his gaze traveled across your swift movements, “She loved it. Each day she’d ask for triple the number of flowers instead of double,” Your eyes were trained on the window that pointed to the east.
“But,” You gnawed on your lip, “Ali didn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong,” You could hear him moving from behind you, his feet padded on the ground.
“And why is that?”
Your eyes darted to the window, the way the sun amazingly shone through the stained glass and colored his snow hair a mix of blues and yellows, something that your somber mind never thought you’d see again.
“The sun is coming up, my king,” You noted, your voice catching in the back of your throat as if you couldn’t believe what you were saying. It seemed that he too, couldn’t believe such a thing as he looked behind himself in doubt.
The two of you said nothing as his eyes widened for a second, lips parted in a shock as he looked at you in relative incredulity.
“My king…” You whispered, voice hoarse as you swallowed thickly, praying that your devious plan was working its way to the man, “What should I do?”
The king could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief, eyes narrowing as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as his kind ran with millions of thoughts about what he should do with you.
Never had somebody stalled him for the entirety of the night, let alone made him want to know more about the woman before he had her ordered to be killed. And despite him deep down knowing that this would surely ruin everything he had done to barricade his lonely heart, he shook his head slowly, brows scrunched up in confusion as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know the rest of your story.
“No,” He muttered out to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at you, but it weighed heavily in the expanse of his room, “Come tonight and finish the story.”
And he didn’t need to say it to know that you had managed to get the king hooked.
---
When the door creaked open with the maids once again lamentable at the fact that they’d be leading you to your death, they were surprised to still find your robes adjourning your shoulders, and the look of both dissatisfaction and something more lining the king's face.
They all stared at him, waiting for the same orders that would tumble out of his mouth every morning, but he just waved them aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered out a quiet, “I expect you to finish tonight,” Before he shrugged his coat back on as he stalked out of the room.
As he moved past the servants, all the ladies stared back at you, mouths hanging open in shock, their hearts pounding in their ears, mirroring yours as the old lady who had bathed you the night before took a tentative step into the bedroom.
“Y/n…?” She asked slowly, testing to see how you would react, to see if he had done anything that could have broken both you and the cruel king to such a point, “Is everything alright?”
You stared at her, giving her a slow nod of your head as you couldn’t believe you were able to see the sun rising and hear the laughs of bewilderment that came from the servants behind the old lady.
“Did he say he wants to see her again?” One of the younger girls peeped up, and everyone snapped their heads over to her, the question everybody was wondering finally spoken out loud.
“I think he did,” One of the girls behind her answered, still not believing what they were hearing.
“What did you do?” Another one asked, testing gazes all focused on you, curious, begging to know just what you had done to break the streak of killings.
“I,” You sighed, rubbing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ears, letting out a skeptical laugh, “I just told him a story.”
---
That night, they did the same thing as the previous one.
They stripped you down, this time a bit more gentle as they weren't much grime to scrub off, but still generous in the amount of fragrance they dabbed all over your body.
“Tonight,” The old lady who you had come to learn was named Nasreen, muttered softly, quiet enough for only you to hear, “Draw out your stories. Make them more interesting than the last,” She whispered into your ear as she led you back towards the king's quarters, “I have never seen the king so,” She paused looking for the right word, “Forgiving as he was last night. You must have made an impact on him,” Her voice was laced with pride yet worried, “Don’t forget to make him more enthralled tonight than the last, alright?”
You merely nodded, tongue heavy in your mouth as you thought of all the stories you had come up with in the hours leading up to now, that in the hassle of the palace trying to get you prepared for the king you came up with the most fantastical stories you could think of.
“Y/n,” She stopped you right behind the familiar door, “I wish you all the luck,” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, scuffling away as the clock near midnight once again, fearful that if she stayed long enough she’d get too attached to you. And she had learned her lesson before.
Your eyes were trained on the door handle, hands filled with heavy lead as you raised them to the gold knob, giving it a slow twist as it opened easily into the freezing room.
It was dark, just as you remembered it being the previous night. The chilly air wrapped itself unwillingly across your frame, and with each heavy step, you took forward, the more dread-filled itself inside your head.
“Close the door,” His voice called out from the bundle of blankets and pillows that were laid out on the floor. You jumped when you noticed he had been there the entire time, shutting the wood quickly behind you as you shuffled inside.
“My king,” You gave him the customary bow, your heart pounding roughly in your ears as you heard some noise come from his side of the room, the ruffling of fabrics as he stood up, walking his distance towards you.
He said nothing as you lifted your head, his sapphirine eyes meeting yours as they stared boredly ahead, as if he could be more amused, and grunted, muttering something to himself as he walked away, picking up a date from the bowl as he pitted it and munched on it slowly.
“You seem displeased,” He noted, looking at your frigid body, “Are you not comfortable?” His white hair moved as he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out why you seemed so reserved.
You chuckled a bit in surprise, not thinking him to be of the right mind to ask such a question.
“My king,” You started, thinking of the nicest way to phrase what you were going to say next, “Forgive my outward appearance but…” You laughed again, almost to yourself that he could even be confused, “I must admit, I have reason to be drawn away.”
He looked back at you, eyebrow cocked as your fingers picked at each other, your mouth brought in a thin line as you looked around the room, anywhere to escape his heavy gaze.
“If you are not comfortable standing,” He gestured to the space to his side, “There is ample room for you to reside as you finish your story,”
You swallowed thickly, thinking of what would happen if you agreed to his offer. Sitting next to him, in such proximity, could insinuate things that you were trying to hold off for as long as you could.
But your feet were already tired from standing for so long last night, and with the hecticness of the day that followed, you found your body disobeying your rational mind as it slowly brought you over to his residing area.
You could see his sly grin growing at your willingness to come over, and you watched as he moved his slender legs to the side, letting you almost break to the ground as you let out a small groan of pleasure at how soft the fabric lay beneath you.
His eyes widened slightly at the sound, his heart beating rapidly as your lids shut for a second, your face momentarily blissed out as you craved for such relaxation until they snapped back open, remembering just where you were.
“S-so,” You cleared your throat, moving away as far as you could as you rest your back on the wall, “If you so please, I can continue with the story of Aghā Ali.” You paused to see his reaction, and he gave a little nod of his head, allowing for you to continue.
“The flowers he had been told to get from the mountain were useless, and even worse, doing more damage than good. The apothecary who told him to find the flowers was a greedy man who had been in love with Ali’s wife, and now daughter, and could only see them as his own or as dead.” You peeked over to see what the king was doing and was somewhat surprised to see him staring back intently at you.
“In a jealous and insane rage, the apothecary had been poisoning the bread that Ali and his daughter ate, and despite all his best tries, Ali seemed immune to the lethal dosages he was receiving. So, in hopes of trying to get rid of him, he told Ali that the flowers found in the Zagros mountains would be the only cure,” He sat up, supporting his head in his hands as his eyes narrowed.
“Why not kill him?” He asked and you paused, licking your lips as you smiled, glad to have anticipated his question beforehand.
“Because killing Ali would mean that he would no longer be allowed to go to Jannah, and the apothecary was weary of the sins he committed.” His eyes shined a darker shade of blue at your statement.
“Unfortunately for the apothecary, Ali was a bright man and could pick up on the flowers' dangerous properties. Ali was also aware of the apothecary’s jealous fit and quickly put the two and two together. So, instead of wasting time spending his rage on the apothecary, he decided to wait.” You crossed your ankles together, adjusting your robe as you shivered, the air still cold no matter how much you adjusted your shawl.
“To wait?” He interrupted, lips pursed and brows furrowed in confusion. You got worried that he was losing his interest in your story, but he sat up, his white hair falling as curls on his face, eyes still shimmering blue as he tilted his head, “He decided to wait?”
His childish demeanor not only made you startled, but you could help but let your lips tug into a smile, and you tried to cover it up with a cough as you nodded.
“Ali was a very observant man. He could tell that whenever his daughter ate the bread, the sicker she got. So he waited, feeding her only bone broth and tea, without the flowers, of course,”
“And just as Ali had suspected after he stopped feeding her the bread and the flowers, she got healthier with each passing day. When the apothecary realized that Ali had once again won over his devious plan, he gave up,” You looked over to the jewel-encrusted knife, “And the apothecary slit his throat as a final testimony to his dying will.”
You could see how the king's eyes widened, his lips parting as he became even more confused.
“That's it?” He interjected, “He dies?” Bile rose to your throat, terrified that you had only upset the king until you tried to calm yourself down, your plan steady in your head as you raised your hands in a gesture to calm him down.
“For that story, yes, my king, but I also happen to know another story that you might enjoy,” It was a sudden change, but you wanted him to forget who he was for a second, to look past everything so that you could continue.
You could see something happening behind his stoic gaze, how his eyes narrowed once again, trying to sniff out your ingenuity, but you offered him a tender smile, one that held more behind it than he could tell, and the king only sighed, laced with annoyance and anger because of your stranglehold on his curiosity, and he glanced out the window.
“Well, hurry on with it,” He muttered, falling back down as he picked up another date to chew on.
And you grinned widely and didn’t care if he could see.
“My king, I doubt you’ve heard the story of the seven voyages of Sinbad…”
---
And so, the cycle continued.
You found yourself in his quarters night after night, evading death by ending on a cliffhanger that the king could only hear if he extended your death by one more day. Every night, you’d finish the story and start on another, prompting the king to a circle of never-ending stories.
The palace, stalked by your boldness to make the king enamored by your storytelling, began working like clockwork, giving you time to yourself to sleep during the day, as well as time to think up new and enticing stories the king may like.
You could tell he had a knack for adventures, and so you tried to make each one more exciting than the last. He was fond of poems of love and war, though he seemed to prefer stories of erotica more.
He was cruel, and even in the daytime, when you didn’t see much of him, you heard of his doings. While he seemed to be keen on not killing you until you run dry of things to tell, he still ruled with an iron fist, and the woes of the nation were only going unheard.
“Y/n,” The king interrupted you one night, pushing himself up by the elbows as he looked at you in your bundled-up corner, “What do you see?”
Your brows scrunched up in confusion at his question, and you squint to see what he was looking at.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand,” Your fingers fidgeted with one another as the king scoffed and he licked his teeth, weaving his hand through his hair as he motioned for you to come closer to him.
You slowly obliged, crawling over to where he was sitting as you gave yourself some space from his side.
You could notice his features more clearly here when the candle could illuminate his features better. His hair was arctic white, white than the snow that would litter the ground in the colder months. And his skin was pale and easily flushed red, almost as if the man refused to go outside in the summer. And his eyes, you could recall just how entranced they made you when you saw them at first. They seemed so hypnotizing, so surreal, that had this man not sent a chill through your bones, they might have put you under his charms spell.
“In the paintings, what do you see?” His eyes were trained on the wall, and you looked ahead, your mind reeling as you took in the different men and women painted in the photo, and what the artist could have meant when they drew it.
“I see…” You looked a bit longer, tilting your head to the right to get a better view, “A man being seduced by a woman,” You inspected the painting longer, “She seems like a witch of some sorts, maybe an enchantress,” You gnawed on your lip as you took in the background of the mural, “And she’s been able to lure him to his demise, judging by the red on her robes.”
You looked to the side to see what the king was thinking, only to him glancing at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you quickly looked away.
“I don’t see where you got the seducing aspect,” He admitted, and he shifted his weight onto his other hand.
Your brows furrowed at how he could miss such an obvious message. You raised your hand, pointing out to the woman as he followed the direction, “You see how her wrist is turned as she’s greeting him? Normally, you’d see people who try to romance one another have opening gestures, but she'd be more closed off and alluring. She dressed in red with minimal jewelry, which can mean that the man prefers somebody dressed down rather than inviting.” You explain and the king let out a small chuckle.
“You got all that from how her wrists were turned?” Your cheeks heated up once again as his eyes twinkle at your obvious embarrassment, and you looked away, shrugging as his smile only grew.
“Many of the artists I know explain the little details to me,” You muttered, “And you asked how I interpreted the piece. You got my answer,” He wanted to coo at the way your lips pouted, at how much less tense you seemed to be over time, and just how alluring you seemed to be when you childishly scooted away from him.
“You know artists?” He asked, perplexed by the outside life you shared and he knew little of it.
“Of course,” You nodded, “The bazaar is full of them. If I have time I walk around aimlessly, for the fun of it. You meet many interesting people where you’d least expect them,” You rubbed your nose, your eyelids growing heavier as the night continued.
“The bazaar,” He repeated to himself, and you glanced over to see him looking longingly at the painting, “I used to be quite the fanatic of the bustling streets.”
“You don’t go anymore?” You asked and he shook his head. Had he not been adorned in royal clothing and his title so glaringly obvious, you would have felt as though you were having a simple conversation with a friend, not the tyrant king everybody had come to fear.
“They’ve become a rather dark staple for me,” He admitted, “I can’t say I’m most eager to go back.”
You scoffed, your shoulder shoving his as his eyes widened in surprise by your out-of-character move.
“Everything has become a dark staple for you, my king. You cannot expect to outlive your past if everything you see reminds you of it,” Even sitting, he towered over you, and he had to crane his neck to stare at you in the eyes.
“There are some things I prefer to remember,” He gritted out, his lips turned into an unpleasant snarl as his eyes darkened, clouded by memories.
“I’m not saying you should forget, my king,” You toned your voice down in hopes of calming him down, “I’m saying that you move on.”
He scoffed, cheeks tinted a fiery red as he puffed his cheeks out, his stance now defensive as he turned his head away from you.
“What should you know?” He bit out, rolling his eyes at the thought of somebody like you understanding the utter betrayal he had gone through. The feeling of his heart being ripped apart piece by piece until everything in him stopped functioning because his entire world had come crumbling down.
“I don’t know,” You told him, your voice soft as if carrying itself to his fragile mind, “But heartbreak is an unstoppable force, my king, and you cannot stop it from ruining your state of being. But it’s better if you move on and be-”
“I can’t move on!” He instantly roared, his voice shaking as he whipped around towards you, his shadow great in size as it dwarfed you in its presence, “Can’t you see that?” His voice wobbled for a second, and in his shaking glare, you could see his eyes water, how they seemed to dim in their crystalline glow as his lips shook.
You raised a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back as he easily complied, and you sighed, pushing some hair out of your forehead as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Your wife is dead, my king. You had her killed. She cannot haunt you any more than in thoughts,” You could hear his sniffles, how he shook when he took in a breath.
“I can’t move on,” He repeated thickly, “It hurts so much,”
“The pain is bare, my king,” You said slowly, “But what you have caused in its wake is destruction. You cannot think yourself to be healing in the act of death.”
You had feared you had said too much, but he only looked at you, hiccups leaving his mouth as his head fell onto your shoulder, and felt his tears wetly stain your robes.
“You don’t deserve this,” He said, “They didn’t deserve it,” He groaned into your coat as if realization was finally dawning on him.
“I’m sorry,” He wept out, and at this moment he was no longer a king, but a weak man who had his share of the world. He muttered it out over and over again until his cries and his apologies filled the air in the royal room.
You didn’t know who he was apologizing to. To you, to the women, he had killed, to himself, or to the man he killed when he began his endless cycle of murder.
“Satoru?” You tried for the first time, his name foreign on your tongue you felt his shaking stop, his wet lips breaths away from your skin that was revealed as he accidentally tugged on your robes.
“Stay,” He whispered into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moved around, shuffling so that he was off of your body, yet somehow he managed to bring you onto his lap, “I don’t care for a story,” He muttered as he looked up at you, “Sleep here tonight,” His large hands steadied themselves on your hips, gentle as you slowly nodded, his lips wet as they traced the skin near yours, soft and caring, a far cry from how you thought they’d be.
“But…” You were worried that he'd be tired of you by morning, realizing that you’re not what he bargained for, but the king shook his head, almost as if he could read your thoughts.
“I just want you to stay, nothing more,” He muttered against your skin, your fingers subconsciously rubbing his hair as he sighed contently at the feeling.
“Okay,” You muttered out, your lash fluttering against your cheek as you nodded, feeling his lips curl into a small smile as you relaxed into his hold, his arm doing all the work as they held you to his chest, cradling you to his body as if you were his only lifeline.
You knew that it was the king that was holding you as if you were his only support, that without you to hold at this moment he would sink into the floor below your bodies and disappear forever.
---
When morning came you felt a heavy arm wrap itself around your waist, and your eyes groggily opened as you felt little puffs of air hitting your neck, and you turned around to find the king fast asleep.
You moved away a bit, and felt his hand dip from your body, and didn’t see his eyes snap open to see you rising, your hair messed up, eyes groggy but still beautiful as he could only stare at the way the sun illuminated your soft skin.
“Mornin’,” He muttered, not used to waking up to a woman without feeling the ache of the night before, but the way you laughed softly at his tired state brought him back to reality.
“Good morning,” You replied, rubbing your eyes as you yawned, a gentle smile making its way up to your face as you watched him turn onto his back, his eyes still heavy from sleep as you giggled.
“I need some water,” You muttered and he cracked an eye open, getting ready to stand up until you pushed him back down, “I’ll be right back,” You corrected and he grumbled something out, blue eyes shutting anyways as sleep took a hold of the king once again.
You rubbed your eyes one last time before you stood up, groaning quietly as you stretched your legs, making note of the fact that you had never slept so comfortably before as you made your way to the door.
The hallways were lit with candles, and you quietly shut the door behind you as you tiptoed your way out, looking around to find two of the palace guards standing outside, already anticipating you from the way they instantly looked at your frame.
You had never seen them before, and while you were familiar with the guards that usually stood outside, these seemed more menacing than usual.
“Good morning,” You said sheepishly, trying to move past one of them when he blocked the way.
“Um,” You scratched your head, looking around to see if there was anybody familiar, “I’m sorry, but I need a pitcher of water for the king’s room if you’ll let me…” You went to outstep the guard but the second one now blocked your path.
You looked up at them in confusion, your lips pursed together as you laughed uncomfortably.
“May I leave, please?” You tried for another laugh, but their faces remained stoic.
You had never seen them before, and you doubted they knew you judging by the way their faces remained unchanged. Their swords were perched on their hips, and their gazes never altered.
“Come with us, miss,” The first guard said, his voice deep as he took a sudden grip on your elbow, rough as he pulled you away without letting you walk.
“W-wait, excuse me, I just need some water,'' You quickly explained but they said nothing as they led you down the hall, their face never changing as you tried to wrangle out of their tight grips.
“Sirs! Please!” They said nothing as you thrashed around, their hands only holding you with a more bruising force as you tried to break free, “I only need a pitcher, that’s all,” Your eyes were frantic, heart in your throat as you tried to think of anything you had done to warrant such behavior.
“They’re always so fuckin’ rowdy,” One of them muttered to the other, obvious displeasure on his face as his fingers tightened around your arm.
You tried to think of what he was referring to when your eyes widened in understanding.
“The king knows me!” You shouted, “He’s asked for me not to be killed!” You tried to explain but the guards only laughed, and you felt your chest fall as they led you down a passage you had never been through before.
“I’m Y/n!” you explained, but they had no idea who you were, “I’m a friend of the kings!” But you didn’t even know if the king would call you that. You told him stories to keep him entertained and you out of the execution chambers, but these guards snorted at your statement.
With their strength, they had practically lifted you off the ground, and no matter how much you kicked your legs and screamed for them to let you, they seemed intent on leading you to wherever you were headed.
A voice in the back of your head already knew where.
“Please!” You shouted, your eyes tearing up, “Ask the king, he knows me!” And one of the guards behind you decided that he had had enough of your shouting, and used his unused hand to slap it roughly over your mouth, muffling your screams.
Your breathing got shallower and rougher the more you tried to break free, and the darker the hallways got the more your body weakened, and you felt yourself grow limp in their holds as they stopped in front of an iron door.
One reached into his pockets as he brought out some keys, flipping through them until he found the right one. He jammed it in the hole and the door swung open, revealing the horror that you had guessed would be inside.
An array of gallows sat in the middle, the ground littered with dried blood as you screamed again.
“I-I’m his storyteller!” You explain hurriedly, but the guards don’t seem to mind as they bring you closer to the noose, “I tell the king stories!” That got one of the guards to laugh, and you whimpered as the noose came closer into view.
“Ask the king, p-please!” You cried out, tears wetting your eyes as your voice caught in the back of your throat, “I tell him stories! I’m a friend of his!”
It meant nothing to the guards as they heaved you up onto the wooden pedestal, grasping your hands behind your back as they tied it over and over with scratchy rope, their hands rough as they pushed you forward, wrapping some dirtied cloth around your mouth to silence your screams.
You felt your tears collect on the cloth, and you felt lightheaded as one of the men began securing the noose around your throat.
“Stand on the trapdoor,” One of the men gruffed out but you hurriedly shook your head, trying to tell them that you weren’t who they thought you to be.
Tired of your antics, the man shoved your forward, and you stumbled and your eyes widened as the noose tightened around your neck, your breath lodging itself in the little crevices of your lungs.
You watched as the men walked over to the front, their hands outstretched to pull the lever as they stopped when they heard a loud crash happen outside the door.
Three sets of eyes snapped to the iron working as it slammed open, revealing a panting king as he stared widely inside the room, wasting no time as guards poured in, the maids that usually came to collect you in the morning puffing out air as they sighed in relief, relieved to find you alive.
“What the fuck is happening?” Satoru shouted out, his eyes raging as he saw you atop the gallows, cheeks stained with tears, mouth covered, a noose around your neck as he felt his breathing momentarily stop, “Y/n?” His eyes widened in shock as he saw the noose around your neck, your cheeks glistening with tears as your screams were muffled.
His eyes snapped over to the two guards, their expressions comedic had they not been seconds away from killing you.
The king was quick in his movements as he rushed towards you, quick as he climbed the gallow, his slender fingers nimble as they worked the noose off of your neck, and then quick to tug down the tear-stained cloth that covered your mouth.
His eyes were feverish as they searched you, his hands on either side of your face as he checked for injuries.
“Are you,” His voice wavered for a second as you stared back up at him, both of your hearts pounding at the same pace as he tried to catch his breath, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
All of the guards and servants watched in fascination as their ruthless king fell apart, his hands shaking as you smiled gently, shaking your head no to his hurried question.
“I,” Your throat was hoarse, and you realized what had led to this mess in the first place, “I just want some water,” You sheepishly admitted to Gojo’s frantic stare, and could see his resolve crack as he gave you a quick laugh, cradling your head gently as he led you out of the execution chambers and back into the forgiving bright light of the hallways.
---
The following night, the servants were extra careful as they prepared you for the king.
Their hands were more forgiving as they scrubbed the dirt off of your body, and their fingers kind as they slathered lotion upon your neck. Their smiles were caring as they rubbed rose petals across your wrists, and their words were hushed as though not to disturb you.
They could tell without asking questions that you weren’t how you usually were and didn’t doubt that going back into the king's chambers would be more nerve-wracking than ever.
The robes they had dressed you in were softer than usual, and they kept it low with the fragrance as though not to give you a headache after everything you had gone through in the past couple of hours.
“Y/n,” Nasreen gently shook your shoulders to wake you out of your trance, “It’s time to go.”
And so you silently followed her on the familiar path to his room, your head heavy with pain as she knocked once, and then twice on the door.
It swung open after a couple of seconds to reveal the king in a disheveled state, his hair in disarray, eyes darker than usual as he seized you up, opening the door a bit wider so that you could come inside.
It shut quickly behind you, and you didn’t have time to turn around to say goodbye to the old lady before the king, Satoru, had led you inside.
The air was heavy as the two of you refused to look the other in the eye, unsaid guilt present in your stances as you went to open your mouth.
“My king, if you’d so wish, I can contin-” You didn’t have any time to prepare for the way his body threw itself at yours, a heavyweight pushing itself into your chest until you were roughly backed into the wall, his hand the only thing saving your head from bumping harshly into it.
His lips were hungry, ravenous, as they searched yours. They were agile and quick, not giving you time to breathe as his hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head ever so carefully so that he could gain better access to you.
You felt your tongues and teeth clash with one another, and despite your inexperience, you tried to match his quick pace. Any logical reasoning flew out of your head as his soft lips traveled upward, kissing your cheek, your forehead, and anything he could to remind himself that you were alive.
Your eyes opened as you felt him move downwards, his mouth hot against the column of your throat as he nipped at the skin gently, his teeth somehow gentle in their way as though not to hurt the fragile skin.
He’d press chaste kisses anywhere he could, his hands secure on your waist as the king looked up at you, and for the first time since your arrangement, you saw real fear in his sapphire eyes.
“Thought I lost’ya,” He muttered into your skin, his hands grasping onto the fabric of your robes as he tried to tug them off, “Thought I fuckin’ lost’ya forever,” His voice shook with raw emotion as your hands flew to his hair, bringing him back up as his hands worked at the knots that secured your robes together.
“It’s gonna,” You sighed as the cool hair hit your naked skin, your nipples pebbling up as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me, my king,” You tired fo a joke but the words died down on your tongue as he latched onto one of your breasts, his hands occupying the other one as he kneaded it.
“Don’t joke about that,” He murmured against you, your nipples glistening with spit as he detached himself from you, “Don’t ever wanna think about it,” He whispered, and your eyes fluttered shut as his slender fingers worked their way down to tracing the skin on your stomach, and you almost sealed as they traveled down dangerously to the apex of your thighs.
He fell to his knees, a true sight to behold as his hair ruffled, your hands clawing into his white locks as you weakly held him in place.
His tongue was hot as it licked at your skin, slow as it neared the area where you were sure was burning up and wasted no time as he slid a finger past your folds, into the slickness of your cunt, and you groaned audibly at the feeling.
It was much different from your fingers, and he was skilled as he added another, your eyes and teeth clenching at the stretch.
“Yer doin’ fuckin’ amazin’,” He muttered in awe at the way you sucked him in, at how wet his fingers became from just a couple of seconds fingering you, “Yer so fuckin’ tight - shit - h-haven't you ever been…” And he trailed off when you looked away in embarrassment, and his lips parted in understanding as you covered your mouth to silence your whines.
“Oh darlin’,” He muttered, moving away from your pussy as he came back up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as your eyes watched his every move, “Have you never been touched before?” And even he seemed to forget that he only wanted virgins, yet you could weakly nod, your skin flushing as he hungrily looked at it.
He’s going to ruin you.
“Well you’re just fuckin’ drippin’,” He said thickly, showing you his fingers as you looked away in embarrassment, but he quietly cooed, sleeping his fingers down your mouth, your eyes widening as you close your lips around them, brows furrowing at the odd taste.
“Sweet as shit, darlin’, better than any of the honey they’ve been rubbin’ on ya,” He muttered, his fingers working quickly as they went in and out quickly, his other thumb rubbing your clit as your eyes rolled back at the heavenly feeling.
“T-toru,” You whined thrashing around in his hold, “F-fuck it feels s-so good,” You hiccupped, your voice weak as you could rarely phrase things together. It was a far cry from how you usually wear, but the man was slowly tearing you apart.
His eyes widened in admiration at how sweetly his name rolled off your tongue, his ministration quickening in pace as he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He muttered against your skin, his fingers wet with your nectar as you cried into your hand, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening at his relentless movements.
“Ugh, Toru, please,” You cried out, your fat tears rolling down your cheek as you couldn’t contain your wanton moans anymore, “Fa-faster!” You were begging, your fingers curling into his hair as he grinned at your unraveling.
More quickly than not, you felt your vision go white, the not snapping as your climax came, the sweet orgasm washing over you as you almost went limp. Had his arms not been supporting you up, you would have crumbled. You could feel yourself spasm around his fingers, but he was slow as he pulled them away, his tongue flushing outwards as he licked them tentatively, moaning at how sweet your essence was as it coated his mouth.
He watched as you went to pull your robes over your body, naively thinking you were done, but Satoru pushed your hands back, shaking his head as his smile menacingly grew.
“I’m not done yet sweetheart,” He moved up as he kissed your lips, your release flooding your taste buds as his spit mixed with yours, and you moaned into his mouth, not used to such a euphoric feeling, “Gods, Y/n, I’m just gettin’ started.”
---
You woke up to your legs aching and throat hoarse from more than just crying.
Your eyes were blinded momentarily by the sun, but you felt a heavyweight stern across your chest, and you looked down to see Satoru’s long arm covering your bare breasts.
Your cheeks heated up as flashes of last night came to you, and suddenly you could barely think straight, shuffling around so much that it woke the very king up.
He was slow as he tried to remember where he was, but a flash of your hair and your awkward smile made him grin charmingly, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you deeper into the warmth of his chest.
“Did I wake you?” You asked quietly into his skin, causing him to shiver as the way your shy hand reached up to hold onto his naked hips, to hold him as if he were a staple into your lifeline.
“I was already awake,” he muttered into your cheek, kissing at the mark he had made the previous night, “You’re a beauty when you sleep,” He admitted and you duke your head deeper into his chest at his words.
“My king,” You blinked, swallowing thickly as you looked up at him, terrified to find a monster but instead finding a devoted man, his eyes deep as they stared back down, caring as his lips pursed at the title.
“Satoru,” he muttered, “Don’t call me king,” His fingers played with your hair, his white hair wild as you giggled softly.
“Alright, Satoru,” Your nose nudged at his bicep, “I have a confession to make.” You saw him glance down at you in momentary worry but your eyes twinkle in a playful, childish manner, and he grinned right back.
“I have no more stories to tell you,” You whispered, “They’re all done.”
Satoru said nothing for a couple of minutes as his soft breathing filled the air around you two, and your heart stopped for a second before he let out a loud laugh, joyful and juvenile as his eyes crinkled, his ars pulling you deeper into his body if possible as he littered your face with kisses, hugging you as though you were going to whisk away at any moment.
“I was wondering when you'd run out darlin',” He exclaimed, pressing a light kiss to your lips as he looked down at you adoringly, “Because it’s time I return that favor,” He moved your hair out of your face as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “I doubt you’ve heard the wondrous story of the woman who somehow stole my heart."
“ Love is not finding someone to live with. It’s finding someone you can’t live without” - Rafael Ortiz
SYNOPSIS: We all look for love consciously or not. Sometimes it hits us like a rainstorm, harsh and strong so much so that it could lift you off your feet. Sometimes it hits us like a sunny day, not too scorching to be irritated of but just the right amount to see the beauty in front.
Follow the journey of JJK men finding love everyday and maybe pick up a few tips and tricks along the way to being the best househusband one can be.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I originally posted this on my old account. Each story will consist of drabbles and oneshots based on requests or my own ideas. Also you get to read some Dad! content. If you want to be added in the tag list of any one of them, please comment on the particular Masterpost.
Hanma was busy man, seldom finding space for you in his ever moving colorful life.
Your husband of 2 years would never do anything if he didn't deem it fun, that was just the type of man he was.
He was a man that constantly seemed to seek the rush of adrenaline, even now at his older age he still seeked it in different forms to his younger days.
When he was younger he would stumble into fights just to feel the blood pumping throughout his body, to tango with death but never fully meet it, but now he recieved it from watching the empire he and kisaki formed grow. The exhilarating feeling of watching peoples life be crushed and crumble all because of him.
You knew he was on that adrenaline high when he asked you to marry him and for most of your marriage you were that high for him. The rush of coming home finding you splayed on the sheets waiting for him.
You were his high, or for awhile you thought you were.
As your marriaged aged so did that feeling of intense impulse towards you faded for Hanma.
He began working overtime, going on longer business trips. He slowly would come home smelling of cheap perfume and red stained white shirts that you would have pressed for him before work.
You hated the smell of the cheap floral perfumes that would linger when you stood in his presence, and you began to refuse to wear red lipstick all to much of a reminder of what your 'husband' did in his overtime and business trips.
But you were determined to bring that high back into his life, or he would after tonight.
You sat in the large lounging area of the penthouse patiently awaiting your husband.
You heard his arrival, knowing he had arrived from the click of his expensive leather shoes against the cold white tiles.
The shape of his silhouette started to form in your peripheral, and when your eyes embraced his form is when you decided to stand to greet him.
"Evening Shuji" you said with a smirk as you turned your head up at the tall man, waiting for him to lean forward and kiss you.
And just as you had anticipated he did.
Hanma had come accustomed to this routine: go to work, come home, fuck wife, sleep.
And maybe that was why he had sought after those women that lingered around his office desk, telling you he worked overtime.
But what Hanma did not expect was for you to the deepen your 'welcome home' kiss.
You forced your salvating muscle into his mouth, intertwining your fingers into his hair as you stood on your tiptoes.
Hanma didn't expect you to drag him down to your level by his hair. The slow pangs of adrenaline started to spark within him and he'd be damned if he was going to let it die down.
He began to move the two of you towards the couch that you had deserted to greet him. Gently pushing you onto it.
"I missed you" you said with doe eyes.
Looking up at him with those eyes that made his cock twitch, you pulled on his lip once again starting your frantic kissing.
Hanma quickly shifted the positions so that you now sat on his lap.
Kissing his neck, moaning with each kiss. Ruttings your hips against the bulge of his black suit pants.
Hanma couldn't wait anymore, he didn't have time to attempt to prepare you for his cock.
He pushed you slightly down from his crotch area to free his cock that had beads of pre-cum dripping down.
You lapped at the beads of pre-cum looking up at Hanma seeing the sadistic grin on his face in its full form. You knew that's when the adrenaline rush was moving through his body, and you knew exactly what to do.
You slowly moved towards his ear and whispered the words you'd been dying to say.
"I'm pregnant"
Hanma's arms dropped from your side, his face in line with yours. His face morphed into one of a scowl.
The two of you had discussed children, and had decided against it, with Hanma's fast paced life there was just no time for him to play father. So how now could you go against your agreement and stop taking your birth control.
Hanma was seeing red, and just as before you had once again killed the growing adrenaline high he was accumulating in his body.
Before Hanma could let out a word of anger, demanding you to get rid of it, another voice spoke.
"Don't worry, Hanma."
"Its mine" the man with the lilac mullet exclaimed.
The image of Rindou appearing from around the corner into full view of Hanma, as the words floated in the air.
You stood up from Hanma's lap, walking over to Rindou.
Hanma continued to stay seated as if he was glued to the spot, evident shock on his face.
"I'm so happy that my beautiful girl is with our beautiful baby" Rindou said as he placed his hand over the growing area of your womb, shooting Hanma a closed eye smile.
Hanma starred at the scene that was unfolding infront of him, and his heart began pumping with adrenaline once again but not the type he was use to. Not the adrenaline of pleasure and satisfaction but the kind of confusion and worry the exact type you wanted him to feel.
You placed a soft kiss on Rindou's cheek giving Hanma one last smiles as you and Rindou began walking out of you and Hanma's once shared penthouse.
Hanma still sat seated on the couch hearing the thumping of the blood being pumped through his veins as he felt the adrenaline shoot through his body, and he hated it.
a/n: I got multiple requests for Rindou fluff, so here! Enjoyyyv<33
character: rindou haitani (obviously)
tw: cursing, slight suggestive content
Rindou isn’t one to get jealous.
Sure, he gets pissed off if someone blatantly tries to flirt with you, but that’s it. And frankly that’s very reasonable. For the most part he simply has enough trust in you that he never has a reason to get jealous, at least not unreasonably jealous.
But something about the way you were talking about this guy really pissed him off…
“My god! His arms are just so hot! They’re just so defined” Rindou listened to you say to your friend who you called just to talk about this guy.
“Defined?” Rindou muttered, looking down at his own arms. “I think my arms pretty defined!”
main warnings: f!reader, mature language, mentions of canon-typical violence, pregnancy, lots of fluff, mentions of blood, suggestive content but some will contain explicit sexual themes. Remember to read the tags before proceeding. Minors do not interact.
summary: the journey of motherhood is never easy from the first morning sickness to when the water suddenly breaks. such precious yet arduous nine months deserve to be recorded for memories.
