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Eat up
Leon's comebacks are one hit kills.
Eat up
Imagine you're fainting and that's the 1st thing you see when you wake up...
I need a fic like that
I love her concept art so much
LEON KENNEDY Resident Evil Requiem (2026) dev. Capcom
ZADDY!
I have nothing appropriate to say
âIt's dinner time, come home now!â
I can't help it.
Ten Years Later
June 1947
Dear Charlotte,
I would ask you how you are, but it has been years- no, decades- since you passed. And not a day goes by that I don't think of you, and all the others.
I'm writing to you today because I needed to talk to someone. Anyone. And you were always the best at listening. At caring. I suppose that's what made you a fantastic Consul.
Did I ever tell you I considered you more a maternal figure than a friend, even if you were only a few years older than the rest of us?
You were so mature even then. Even when you were scared, you had so much strength to give others. You had the courage to stand by yourself, Charlotte. And it is some of that courage I need now.
Read here on ao3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/74902336
go go!!!!!!
Gojo's Body
Dark!Fem!Gojo Satoru x reader
word count: 11.3k
Synopsis: Your best friend goes missing. When Satoru finally comes back, something feels off.
(Warnings: yandere, dark content, rape/noncon, demon summoning, vaginal fingering, supernatural elements, implied homophobia but nothing graphic, death, toxic relationships, child abuse)
Gojo Satoru was your childhood best friend.
You two were inseparable even now in your last year of high school. She always called you âher other halfâ, even though you two couldnât be more different. She was beautiful, tall, and athletic. Despite her popularity, she never strayed from your side. You guys still collected Digimon cards together, sang terrible karaoke in the Maserati she got on her sixteenth birthday, and even had those sleepovers where youâd stay up too late.Â
She was your most cherished friend.Â
And then, she disappeared.Â
You still arenât sure what happened. Her entire family was so hush about it. All you knew was that one day she was laughing and smiling with you at school. The next, she was gone.Â
Word travels fast in your small town. Everyone knew the Gojo girl mysteriously vanished. There were so many theories. Everyone made your friend their own little true crime fixation. It made you sick. Some thought she was taken for ransom. Others thought she ran away with a man double her age.Â
The worst one were rumors of a sacrifice to a demonic entity.Â
Hearing people speculate of her disappearance and missing her presence all felt so unbearable. Days passed, and your morale grew lower and lower.
âDonât worry, Iâm sure everythingâs ok. Stop worrying so much.â Your mother assures you.Â
âHer family probably went on a trip and she forgot to tell you. You know how careless that girl is.â She laughs.Â
You do know how careless she is. Toru was smart, but she constantly dropped pens and pencils. Sheâd forget what her next class was. Sheâd lose her own head if it werenât attached to her.Â
You berate her for it. She only laughs you off.
âI have you to take care of me, donât I?âÂ
You felt like crying all over again.Â
Disappearing without telling you wasnât like Satoru. Sheâd tell you everything, regardless if you wanted to hear it or not. A sudden family trip without you knowing is unheard of.Â
Something had happened to her, but no one believed you.Â
âAt the same time sheâs so responsible.â Your mother continues to gush. âI still remember how brave she was the day she saved you from that lake. How old were the two of you? Nine? Ten?âÂ
Your mom is starting to say something else, but you want a break from her rambles about Toru. Instead, you grab the full trash can, muttering how youâll be back, before disappearing out into the night air.Â
October night blooms above you. It was chilly- enough to make you feel goosebumps. You didn't linger on it. Youâd only be out here for a few minutes at most.Â
You placed the trash can beside the curb. The suburban community you lived in was quiet as always. It was dark. The only light you had was the dim glow of a nearby streetlight.Â
It takes a while for your eyes to adjust.Â
And then you notice thereâs a person on the other side of the road.Â
Youâre not too alarmed at first. Itâs probably just someone taking a walk. This is a safe neighborhood.Â
But they move so silently. You didnât notice them until you saw them. Theyâre so quiet, even as they step off the sidewalk and onto the road, headed straight for you.Â
Youâre too slow to react. You take a step back, then another. You mightâve run after that, but you couldnât trust yourself. You always had terrible instincts.Â
Thereâs a flicker of light. Long, white hair makes you pause.Â
ââŠToru?âÂ
She freezes.Â
You watch as a slow smile stretches across her face.Â
âI found you.â
You shouldâve noticed it then. You shouldâve picked up on how off her smile was. Too wide, too many teeth, like she was mimicking mirth. You shouldâve noticed her stature, the way she moved when she walked.Â
You donât. You just run to her.Â
You just care how cold she is as you hug her. Sheâs always been taller than you, but you manage to envelop her in your hold as tightly as you could.Â
She doesnât react. She remains stiff as a corpse.Â
You pull away. Sheâs still smiling.Â
âWhere were you?â You exclaimed. âI was so worried! IâI called and texted but you never responded. I even went up to your house and it was completely empty. Did you guys go on vacation or somethingâŠâ Your voice trails off as you glance down.Â
She was barefoot. When you glanced around, you didnât see her car parked anywhere.Â
âToru?â You ask, finally taking a proper look at her. âDid you walk all the way hereâŠbarefoot?âÂ
Her eyes, theyâre so bright and blue.Â
Almost glowing.Â
âI found you,â she says again. Itâs the only thing youâve heard from her tonight.Â
She's reaching up, brushing her fingers against your neck, your face. Only then do you notice how unkept she looks. Her hair is brittle and messy. Her clothes are faded and worn. You see dirt underneath her nails and neck and clothes, like she crawled out of the Earth herself.Â
âI found you.â She repeats.Â
Your name being called snaps you out of your trance.Â
Your mother stares at you with furrowed brows.Â
âWhat are you doing?â She chastises. âGet inside. Itâs cold.âÂ
âButââ When you turn back, Toruâs gone.Â
Youâre alone, standing out in the middle of the road. The air is colder now.Â
âAre you okay?â She wonders when you stumble back inside.Â
You try to smile but it comes out stiff. The more you thought about it, the less reasonable it seemed. Satoru would not trek miles and miles on foot to your house. She wouldnât roam the streets caked in dirt.Â
Maybe mom was right. You were getting so worked up you were starting to lose your mind.Â
âItâs nothing,â you say. âNothing.âÂ
~
You liked Shinichi.Â
He moved to your town a few years ago, back in sophomore year. The crush started when you two were paired as biology partners last year. You think it might be mutual. Sometimes his hand lingers on yours for a little too long when you hand him a pen. You noticed he watches your lips when youâre talking.Â
For whatever reason, you never told anyone about your crushânot even Toru.Â
âDid she really?â Shoko cocks her head. âI donât believe you.âÂ
âShe did.â Suguru insists, coiling up her hair in that signature bun. âHow could you not believe me? Iâm so hurt.âÂ
ââcause youâre a liar.â Shoko responds.Â
Suguru laughs. Or maybe she doesnât. You werenât paying attention. Despite the girls hanging beside your locker, you were still nose deep into your notes. Your anatomy test was happening next period and you had an awful feeling you were going to fail.Â
You were barely past the mandible before your notebook was ripped away from you.Â
âHeyââ Your voice dies in your throat.Â
Satoru grins.Â
âMissed me?â She teases.Â
You can only watch as the rest of your group crowds around her immediately. Shoko and Suguru ask where she went, eager for answers.Â
A last minute ski trip.Â
âSorry I went AWOL like that.â She shrugs. âThereâs bad reception over there.âÂ
They both buy it. Shoko demands pictures. Suguru prods about the mountains and slopes. Satoru eagerly shows the girls the pictures she took along the Swiss Alps.Â
You can only stare.Â
She looks like the same Satoru youâve known for years. Her smile is just as playful. Her eyes are the brilliant blue youâve come to admire. Her ivory hair is long and pin straight (âwhich I could never do anything withâ she always complained). Her hands are unblemished and dirt-free.Â
You still canât get that sight out of your mind: her cracked nails caked in mud.Â
She catches you staring, finally drawing her attention back on you.Â
âWhat?â She prods.Â
âYou never texted me about that.â You blurt out.Â
She rolls her eyes. âMustâve forgotten. I donât gotta tell you everything I do. Stop worrying so much.âÂ
She reaches out to pinch your cheek. You wince, wondering if she meant to be this rough.Â
âRight,â you say when you brush her hands off of you. Only then do you notice how much taller she is.Â
Satoru has always towered over you, but sheâs never worn lace-up stilettos. Not ever.Â
You trail over her outfit. Her dress is short and tight, trailing right past her hips and barely covering her ass. The sheer stockings do little to cover the fat of her thighs. Her jacket is unzipped, leaving you to see the amount of cleavage she proudly showed. How she didnât get dress-coded already was beyond you.Â
She never dressed like this before. Sure, Satoru had amazing outfits, but she was never this daring. She preferred more conservative clothes: longer skirts, shirts with higher scoops, hoodies that hid her shape.Â
You can smell her perfume. Itâs different. Bolder, compared to the light floral stuff she used to wear. Itâs smokier. You feel like youâre standing next to a blooming fireplace.
Shoko and Suguru have hoarded Satoruâs phone, chattering over her trip. You hear the slam of locker doors all around you as the bell rings for the first period. You have a test soon, but you can hardly bring yourself to look away from how different she looks.Â
Uncanny might be a better word.Â
You think about the Satoru you saw last night, the one with empty eyes and cracked nails. You want to reach out and ask her, but sheâs already slipping away to class.
âFuck, I gottaâ go.â She sighs. âSee ya at lunch. Donât stress too hard about that anatomy test.â She tells you. âYouâll get wrinkles.âÂ
You manage a weak smile at her joke. When she blows you a kiss, you half-heartedly wave back.Â
You were freaking out over nothing. The Satoru you saw last night was part of some stress-induced hallucination. And today, Satoru is trying out a new look. She doesnât have to tell you everything she does. You needed to stop being so paranoid.Â
School drags on hour by hour. Lunch is just like before. By the time the last bell rings, youâve almost forgotten all about it.Â
Usually, Satoru drives you home. Sheâd sit by the curb, honking if you donât get in fast enough. She was dramatic like that, but you liked that side of her. The fun side.Â
Today, thereâs no black Maserati waiting for you. You glance around the parking lot, wondering if maybe Satoruâs running late.Â
You spot ivory white hair blow in the wind.
You watch as she continues to hold Shinichiâs hand, dragging him along. She glances back to say something to him. You can see him throw his head up and laugh.Â
Something boils on your face. You canât look away as Shinichi gets into the passenger seat of the car. Satoru follows right after. Tinted windows conceal their faces.Â
Just for a moment, you swore she turned back to see if you were watching.Â
~
You had that dream again.Â
You were at the bottom of a lake, watching the bubbles rise up to the surface. A soaked letter floats next to you. Tiny hands reached in to pull you outâ
You wake up in a pool of sweat. Your breaths are heavy. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out again.Â
The ceiling fan gently whirs above you. It felt nice on your heated skin. You kick the thick blankets off, letting your bare skin cool down.Â
After a few minutes, it becomes apparent you wonât get any sleep tonight. You rise from your bed, cringing at the stickiness of your skin. It was like you woke up from a nightmare.Â
Well, it was more like reliving the memory of a near-death experience.Â
You stretch, pushing your arms up and out. Your bones crack at the release of pressure. Still sitting on your bed, you reach over for your phone. Itâs nearly four. Youâd have to get ready for school in three hours. There was no point in going back to sleep.Â
Maybe it was because you were still-half asleep, and now your brain-fog is gone. Maybe the fan was obscuring it, spinning noisily above you.Â
But you swear you could hear breathing.Â
Loud. Deep. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out again.Â
For a moment you thought it was your own, maybe you hadnât calmed down all the way. But you could still hear your breaths. Quieterâslower than whatever this was.Â
Vents, you tell yourself. The A.C was acting up. You try to ignore the chills that run up and down your back. Goosebumps rose along your arms and shoulders. The air felt colder.Â
With your tank top and your shorts, you felt so naked. Almost like you were being watched. The only thing rivaling the sounds you keep hearing is your loud heartbeat. Blood rushes through your ears.
Thereâs a hint of a footstep. On the other side of your bed, thereâs a creak.Â
You lean over to flick on the lamp.Â
Light engulfs the shadows. You can see your four walls. The ceiling. The fan. The trinkets you gathered for years sitting nicely on your shelves.Â
Youâre alone.Â
You wait again, listening. Thereâs no breathing. Of course you didnât hear anything. You must have imagined it. You were still so strung up from your nightmare.Â
You fully roll out of bed, deciding to get ready for school a little early. Maybe you can get a little homework done too before class starts.Â
Itâs another remnant of your night terror. You ignore it as you trek into the bathroom.Â
For a moment, you thought you could smell a bonfireÂ
~
âDid you two fight?â Suguru suddenly asks.Â
You barely glance up at her from your phone.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âYou and Satoru,â she presses. âYou two fight?âÂ
âAnd who won?â Shoko chimes in.Â
You roll your eyes. âWe didnât fight.âÂ
âThen why is she ignoring you?â Shoko prods. When your gaze lingers on your phone for too long, she plucks it out of your grasp.Â
You glance over to the other side of the cafeteria. Satoru was crowded around the other girls in the color guard. They seemed to be having a lively conversation. You glanced back at Suguru and Shoko, who were coming up with their own analysis.Â
âSheâs usually so obsessed with you too.â Shoko thinks out loud. âPretty sure this is the only conversation Iâve had with you where she hasnât butt in.âÂ
You stare at her, unimpressed.Â
âWhat are you talking about?âÂ
They exchange glances.Â
âYou canât tell me you havenât noticed it, right?â Suguru asks. When you continue to give a blank stare, she sighs.Â
âSheâs constantly walking you to and from class. Youâre one of the only people allowed in her car. Ninety percent of her conversations revolve around you too. She shares food with you, even when sheâs so possessive over her snacks.âÂ
âNot to mention youâre the only one whoâs allowed to call her âToru.â Shoko gives.Â
âItâs a childhood nickname.â You mutter.Â
âOh! Maybe itâs from the time she saved you from that lake.â Shoko wonders out loud. âAfter that day, her brain forced her to think of you as some helpless animal who needs to be protected all the time.âÂ
âOh, like conditioning?â Suguru prods.Â
âYeah, exactly.âÂ
Maybe if you ignore them and their stupid theories, theyâll finally leave you alone.Â
Suguru leans over your shoulder, pressing herself into your space until you canât ignore her anymore. She grins when your scowl grows deeper. Sheâs so much like Satoru it actually enrages you. Maybe thatâs why they were such good friends.Â
âSo, did you two fight?â She urges.Â
âNo.â You stress. âWe didnât.âÂ
You would have to talk to fight.Â
Since the day she got back, you hadnât spoken to Satoru. You never called or texted, you barely even looked at her. She did the exact same. It was like you two were never even friends in the first place. Acquaintances. Strangers that shared the same space.Â
Youâd be lying if a part of you wasnât mad at her. She left for days with no texts or calls. You were worried sick about her and yet she comes back perfectly fine. It was like she didnât even care about your feelings or worries. How could she do that to you? It was so shitty.Â
You still think about her and Shinichi getting into her car and driving off. You donât think you were too mad about the Shinichi part. You liked him, but it was barely a crush. Him seeing someone would be like someone stealing the last piece of pie before you could. Disappointing, but easily forgettable.Â
It was the fact that she almost seemed to know how you felt about him that irked you. The way you were sure she glanced back at you to see if you were watching before they drove off.Â
It feltâŠmean. Unwarranted.Â
Still, that wasnât the biggest issue you had with her.Â
âDoesnât she feel a little strange to you?âÂ
Both girls look at you. Itâs the same look a parent would give to a child when theyâre rambling about Santa Claus. You feel yourself heat up.Â
âWhat do you mean?â Shoko asks.Â
What could you say? What would you look like if you started bitching about how strange her new wardrobe looked? Who cared if you pointed out her new heels? The smell of smoky fire never left you.
You knew Satoru. She constantly moved from one thing onto the next. When has she ever stuck to something? Why was this so different?Â
You give a helpless shrug. âSheâs justâŠâ You trailed off. âStrange.âÂ
Shoko leans in closer.
âDo you think sheâs pregnant?âÂ
You gape at her. âWhat? No!â You squeeze your eyes shut. Forget it, you were just seeing things again. âNever mind.âÂ
Suguru laughs. She leans the rest of her weight on you.Â
âYouâre so paranoid. Itâs actually a little cute.âÂ
Youâre about to respond, but something prickles over your skin, ever so slightly digging in.Â
That oppressive weight remains all throughout the rest of the day. You donât understand it until the school administration hastily calls for a last minute-assembly.Â
It was just before the end of 8th period. You werenât too upset, preferring to sit in the gym bleachers than physics. The entire student body shifted and murmured all around you. The principal stands in the center. He transfers his weight from one foot to another. His expression matches the one you saw on teachers and a few of the students too. Those people are a lot quieter today.Â
The microphone squeals in his grasp. He clears his throat.Â
Inu Shinichi, a senior in high-school.Â
Dead at the young age of 18.Â
Immediately the crowd erupts. People start asking questions all at once. You can hear the confused clamours of students all around you as staff tries to assuage the panic.Â
The noise, the voices are all too much to keep track of. In the background, you can hear the principal try to continue. It was an unfortunate accident with a wild animal. Police think there might be a bear in the area. Everyone is highly encouraged to stay away from the woods. His words seep in and out of your ear.Â
You feel that prickling sensation again. You search through the crowd, eyeing the rows of frantic students.Â
Toru stares right back.Â
~
Eventually, the school releases you.Â
People are encouraged to pair up in groups if they are walking home. Suguru had a club meeting that ran late. Shoko went home early. In the end, you were forced to walk home alone.Â
Itâs not as scary as people thought. Besides, it gives you time to think.Â
Mostly, you thought about Shinichi.Â
You saw him just yesterday. He was smiling, maybe even laughing. And now, he was gone.Â
You were probably one of the last people to see him alive.Â
You andâ
A loud honk disrupts your thoughts. You whirl your head to the side.Â
Her window is down. Her head is leaned against the wheel. Thereâs a sly smile on pretty pink lips.Â
âTrynaâ ditch me?â She teases. âGet in.âÂ
You blink at her.Â
âNo,â you eventually say. It sounded snappier than you liked. âIâm fine, thanks.âÂ
She says nothing to that. You keep walking. You expected her to whine, inch her car forward as she demands you to get in. Sheâs always been a brat, itâs not like her to give up so easily.Â
There's a yank on your back. You stumble, feeling your backpack slip from your arms. When you glance behind you, Satoruâs already shoving your bag into the back of her car. She shuts her trunk with a victorious grin.Â
âIf you want it back, youâre gonna have to work for it.â She tells you, before climbing back into her seat.Â
Like you could ever win against her. Feeling your mood sour by the minute, you slipped into the passenger seat. Satoru doesn't wait for you to buckle yourself in before driving off.Â
The two of you sit in silence for two minutes. Eventually, Satoru breaks it.Â
âSo?âÂ
âSo?â You repeat.Â
âAre you gonna tell me why youâre so pissy lately or will I have to needle it out of you?âÂ
You stare out the window. âIâm not pissy.âÂ
âThat.â She tells you. âThatâs pissy.âÂ
âIâm notââ You swallow.Â
You peel your eyes from the window, daring to glance her way. Her shirt is low enough for you to see a hint of cleavage. Her makeup is bold: deep red lipstick and dark eyeshadow. Her skirt keeps riding up, letting you see creamy thighs.Â
Itâs not like her at all.Â
âDid something happen?â You finally ask. âOn the trip.âÂ
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
You canât help it. It comes out all at once.Â
âWhat I mean is that you disappeared for days. You refused to call or text or anything. And now youâre back like nothing happened, and Iâm supposed to believe you went on a ski trip?âÂ
She waits for a minute. Maybe two.Â
âOh,â she says. âYou missed me.âÂ
Youâd yank her hair if your life wasnât in her hands right now.Â
âYou get so cute when you get all worried.â She gushes and you frown even deeper. âDonât worry, I missed you too!â
She giggles and you feel your face heat up, but youâre not too upset at her teases. It reminds you of what you two used to be like.Â
âOf course I was worried for you, idiot,â you say. She was your best friend, after all.Â
She laughs again, before it dies down.Â
âYouâre right,â she finally says. âI didnât exactly go on a ski trip.âÂ
You glance over. Sheâs still smiling but itâs strangely shadowed somehow.Â
âOh,â you respond. âSoâŠwhere did you go, then?âÂ
She taps dainty painted nails on the steering wheel. You like the color. A glistening red.
âMy folks took me to some last-minute family thing,â she says. âThey called it tradition-â She rolls her eyes â-a bunch of bullshit really.âÂ
You nod, not wanting to prod further. You knew Satoruâs family. They considered family and the clan to be extremely sacred. Obviously, theyâd have some weird customs theyâd force Satoru into. You also got the feeling they were elitist and maybe sexist. Despite the financial freedom Satoru got, it always felt like it came with strings attached. Good grades, perfect attendance, a compliant demeanor. Absolute perfection. The tension between her and her folks was ice-cold. She was constantly at odds with them.Â
You take a peek at her outfit again. You may not know them intimately, but the Gojo family would definitely not approve of her outfit. Especially the matriarch.Â
Youâve only met Satoruâs grandmother a few times, but it didnât take you that long to realize she didnât like you. Her blue eyes were always tainted with disdain whenever she looked down at you. It was a bit insulting, honestly. Apart from her, you were actually great with the elderly. She was a stain on your perfect people skills record.Â
âSatisfied?â She asks. You can hear her smile. âAre you still angry I ghosted you?âÂ
âI wasn't angry.â You tell her, and now your irritation feels silly. âI was just thinking.âÂ
âAbout?âÂ
You make sure to keep your eyes on her, wanting to watch every micro expression as you speak.Â
âShinichi.âÂ
She didnât stop smiling. She didnât even blink.Â
âI was just really surprised about what happened to him,â you continue. âI knew him. JustâŠone second he was in class, the nextââ Dead. Gone. Devoured.Â
Satoru hums. âYeah, I heard it was a bunch of coyotes. They just tore him up until there was nothing left.âÂ
You almost take a moment to comprehend her casualness. She spoke like she was talking about the weather, not a gruesome death.Â
âYeahâŠâ You trail off. âIt was horrible.âÂ
âIâI still canât believe someone I knew died like that,â you say. âAnd it was Shinichi. How is that evenââÂ
âHey,â Satoruâs voice is sharp. It startles you.Â
Her smile is gone. A thin line replaced it. Her grip on the steering wheel is tight enough to make her knuckles grow white.Â
âLetâs stop talking about himâÂ
You wanted to ask about it right there. The words were on the tip of your tongue. She was the last person who saw Shinichi alive. It was a morbid curiosity to ask what he was like just before he fell off the world.Â
âOkay,â you say instead.Â
Despite ordering you to stop, Satoru didnât seem too keen on following.Â
âYou liked him, right?â She presses.Â
Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. Satoru takes it as her answer.Â
âI just donât see what you saw in the guy,â she continues. âSoâŠbleh, yâknow?âÂ
âWe shouldnât speak ill of the dead.âÂ
âIâm just saying,â she argues. âYou deserve someone way better. Trust me, that guy was not good news.âÂ
You think of the heat in your stomach when Satoru led Shinichi to her car. The tight grip she held onto his hand. Envy. God, it all felt so silly all of a sudden.Â
âDo you like him more than you like me?â She suddenly asks.Â
You burst into laughter.
It was just like her, to constantly ask for scraps of attention and approval. She strove to be the best in her academics. She wanted to be number one in her sports team. Why would competition for her best friend be any different?Â
âWhatâs so funny?â She demands as your laugh dies down. You shake your head.Â
âI donât like you, I love you.â You ease into your seat. Your heart feels full. Youâre happy.
You two were back.Â
Sheâs smiling. Itâs goofier, and a bit smug. You missed that smile of hers.Â
You missed her.Â
For the first time in a week, you two finally have a real conversation. Satoru shit-talks the girls in her color guard team, as always. You chide her for being too strict on them. You complain about teachers and pop-quizzes. Satoru shows you a band sheâs been listening to.Â
You almost donât want to get out of the car by the time she pulls out on your street.Â
âWanna come in?â You ask. âMy mom would love to see you.âÂ
âI got something I gotta do.â She waves you off. âBut Iâll text you later.âÂ
You hum, stepping out of the car and grabbing your bag.Â
Her hand latches onto your wrist.Â
When you glance back, her eyes have soured. Warm oceans turned into cool ice.Â
âYou do like me, right?â She presses. âMore than anyone?âÂ
You smile, confused.Â
âI kind of have to.â You respond with a laugh. âWeâre best friends, right?âÂ
You expect her to smile back. She doesnât.Â
Her nails dig into your skin ever so slightly.Â
âYeah.â She pulls away. âBesties.âÂ
You canât name her tone, but the firm line on her lips remains. Itâs like sheâs retreated back into her head, obscuring herself from your view.Â
That prickling sensation is back again. It crawls up your back, latching at the sides of your neck. It only stops when you shut the door behind you, blocking yourself from her vision.Â
The scent of smoke fades and you finally feel yourself breathe again.Â
~
Now thinking about it, you could name the exact day the Gojo matriarch stopped liking you.Â
Truthfully, she never actually liked you. A mild tolerance, maybe.
Clearly, she was the type of person who believed that those of higher class should mingle with each other. When her granddaughter started bringing home a child whoâs parents were middle class at best, she wasnât pleased. Still, she never outright chastised Satoru. Again, it was a mild tolerance. You were a blip on her radar.
You became friends with Satoru in the first week of second grade. It was less of a meeting, more of a kid latching onto your arm and immediately declaring you as âhersâ. You donât remember having an issue with the possession. You liked being Satoruâs friend. She let you braid her long wispy hair.Â
Satoru soon became Toru, and you quickly found yourself inseparable from each other.Â
Teachers found it adorable how much Toru clung onto you. You two were always found together, always paired up for projects and assignments. Sometimes, when sheâs riled up enough, sheâd suddenly declare how sheâll marry you. The surrounding adults got a kick out of that.
Peas in a pod. Two halves of a whole.Â
The real issue started when Toru began bringing you home.Â
Youâve never been in a house so large. You were scared you might get lost, so youâd hold onto Toruâs hand even tighter as she gleefully led you through her maze of a home. Up winding staircases. Past doors and doors.Â
You two would mostly stay in her room. Youâd play with her grand dollhouse, dress up in her fancy clothes, have pretend tea parties and horribly tried to replicate royalty. It was stupid. It was childish. It was fun.Â
Even back then, you knew Satoru didnât have a lot of fun within her cold, empty home.Â
Once, and only once, she took you into the backyard.Â
It wasnât a backyard. It was more of a botanical garden. There were pretty flowers of all colors. The grass was neat and pristine. Youâd never seen any place more beautiful in your life.Â
âThis.â She told you when she led you through a patch of chids. âThis is where weâll get married.âÂ
âItâs so pretty.â You gushed, plucking at a dahlia. âCan we invite our teacher to the wedding?âÂ
âYes!â She declares. âEveryone will come! Iâll be the bride, and you can be the groom. I wanna wear a pretty dress.âÂ
Your lips sour into a frown. âI donât wanna be a groom.â You complain. âI wanna wear a pretty dress too.âÂ
Even from a young age, she hated seeing you unhappy. âWe can both wear pretty dresses.â She decides.
You giggle and she holds your hand even tighter.Â
Itâs barely a kiss. Itâs a soft peck, a light brush of her lips against yours. When she pulls away, her ocean ocean eyes bloom just as fiercely as the cherry red across her cheeks.Â
âWhat was that?â You wonder.Â
âItâs what two people who want to get married do.â She tells you. For once, her voice is quiet. âNow, weâll be together forever.âÂ
You two were seven years old: too young to realize what it meant, too innocent to understand the danger of a small town with backwards customs.Â
The Gojo matriarch was not.Â
She grabs Toruâs arm before you could blink. Her grip on the younger Gojo is rough and violent as she drags your friend back into the house.Â
A short while later, a servant politely tells you that your parents are waiting for you at the front. You go home in silence.
You only see Satoru the next day at school. Thereâs a large bruise on her cheek. The teachers, pockets filled with Gojoâs money, ignore her.Â
When she sees you, she smiles.Â
Itâs not as bright as it used to be.Â
~
As much as you try to avoid it, it forces you to notice it eventually.Â
It was the weekend. Satoru had dragged you out to the city. She parked her car somewhere in a crowded garage, forcing you to walk through dirty streets and busy roads.Â
Another shopping spree. So far, you've picked up some shorts and a velvet top. She, on the other hand, had about two bags per arm filled with skirts, dresses, crop tops. Designer. Expensive. Heavy. You had no idea how she was able to carry them all.Â
âToru,â you call as she hurries on in front of you. âItâs getting late. We should head back.âÂ
It was already dusk. The sky was filled with purples and pinks. The shadows grew longer and longer. You wanted to be back by the car before night came.Â
Satoru didnât share the sentiment. She carried onward, the bags shuffling at her sides.Â
âJust a few more minutes,â she insists. âThe store I was talking about is right around the corner, Iâm pretty sure.âÂ
You sigh, but you have no choice but to follow. As much as you loved her, she was way too overzealous for you sometimes. Constantly hyper-fixating on one thing or another, and tugging you along for the ride.Â
Despite it all, you shuffle towards her when you see a dark figure in a hoodie. Just from the way he stands, you could already tell what he was planning on doing.Â
âNice legs.â He whistles at Satoru right as she passes him.Â
She barely spares him a glance, flipping him off.Â
âBitch,â he mutters under his breath. You curl your lips in disgust.Â
You stared for too long. He catches your eyes.
A nasty smirk crawls along his haggard face.Â
âWhat about you, gorgeous?â He prods. âWanna have a good time?âÂ
It happened in a flash.Â
One moment, Toru was next to you on the sidewalk.Â
The next, she was grabbing the man by the throat, pinning him against the building.Â
With a single manicured hand, she hoisted him up until his feet dangled, crushing his windpipe. He choked, immediately grabbing onto her wrists, trying to wrench her off of him. She barely even flinched, continuing to keep him up there with a strength youâve never seen from her before.Â
It was inhuman.Â
You only move when it sounds like heâs dying.Â
You pull on her hand. Nothing.Â
âToru,â you say in urgency. âLet go of him. Itâs fine.âÂ
She barely even twitches. The look on her face is unsettling. No scowl. No smile. Her features were completely blank.Â
Like she was staring at nothing.Â
You yank harder on her wrist. You squeeze.Â
âToru, please.â You beg.Â
She takes a moment, but eventually, she drops him just when heâs about to pass out.Â
He falls to the floor, holding his throat. Already a dark ring is starting to show on his skin.Â
You expect him to yell and scream. Thereâs nothing. He just staggers off, trying to get as far away as he can.Â
Relieved, he didnât make a scene, you turn back to Satoru.Â
She had yet to move.Â
âHey.â You shove at her. âWhat was that? Where did you learn to do that?âÂ
Nothing. You give up trying to get anything out of her. Something on the ground catches your eye.Â
The shopping bags. She must have dropped them when the skirmish happened. You go to pick them up.Â
Thereâs a hand on your chest, forcing you against the wall. Immediately, she presses up against you, caging you in. You donât move. You canât. You just stare forward, right at her neck as her throat bobs up and down. The smell of the campfire is back again. Flickering and burning.Â
Thereâs a hand at your waist, keeping you in place. You press your fingers against the wall.Â
âToru?â You weakly ask.Â
Thereâs a sharp inhale above you.Â
And then sheâs gone.Â
By the time you blink, sheâs already picked up her bags, continuing her way along the sidewalk.Â
After a second, youâre bounding after her.Â
Your mouth opens and closes as you stare at her back. What the fuck was that? You wanted to ask so badly.Â
âI think we mightâve missed it.â She suddenly says.Â
âWhat?â You say dumbly.Â
âThe store.â She glances back at you with a âduhâ look. âI think it mightâve been on the next corner.âÂ
âOh,â you say, voice vacant. âToru?âÂ
âHm?âÂ
Your mouth closes into a sharp line.Â
âItâs nothing.âÂ
~
For the first time in a while, Satoru comes over for a sleepover.Â
Your parents were ecstatic. Dinner was served with hot homemade food and extra hospitality. Your mother was delighted that her âsecond daughterâ came to visit. She offered Satoru, seconds and thirds. You were starting to acknowledge that Satoru might be your parentâs favorite child.Â
âYour parents are always so sweet.â Toru tells you.Â
You sit on the blankets, still scrolling on your phone. Sheâs already underneath the covers, peering up at you. She smells like your soap and shampoo, dressed in your clothes because she always manages to âforgetâ to bring her own.Â
âPretty sure my mom loves you more than she loves me.â You mutter. âTrust me, youâre the favorite.âÂ
Your words sound bitter, even when you truly arenât. Your parents know better than anyone how neglected Toru is in her home. Being showered in money and luxury could never replace parental affection.Â
She laughs, curling up in your pillows.Â
âI missed this place.â She murmurs into your pillows. You know sheâs annoying you on purpose when she buries her head into the pillows, taking a deep breath.Â
âIf you keep being creepy, Iâm kicking you out,â you tell her pointedly.Â
She pouts, arching her pretty lips into a frown. âYouâre a meanie.âÂ
You scrunch your nose when the smell of incense wafts into the room.Â
âAnd why are you wearing perfume?â you chide, âweâre supposed to be sleeping.âÂ
âIâm not wearing perfume.â She tilts her head.Â
Was she telling you that was just her natural scent? You doubt it, but you donât bother arguing. Besides, sheâs already starting to whine.Â
âAnd we canât sleep now!â she argues, âwe never hang out these days. We should do something.âÂ
âAre you not exhausted?â You two had been running around all day: spa day, manicures, shopping trips. How was she not tired?Â
She shakes her head, rocking back and forth from her spot on the bed.Â
âCâmon!â she urges. âLetâs watch a movie or something. A horror movie.âÂ
âYou watch,â you tell her, crawling underneath the blankets. âIâll sleep.âÂ
She frowns and if she was the Satoru before, sheâd be whining more. The Satoru tonight pouts as you lift the blankets.Â
You stare down at her pretty blue eyes. Pink lips. Long lashes. Her nails are a different color today. Black.Â
âYeah.â You finally say. âYou are different.âÂ
âHm?â She peers up at you.Â
âI donât know how else to say it,â you confess, âbut youâreâŠbrighter somehow.âÂ
You can see it in her eyes. Lighter. Less cloudy. The sky on a bright summer day. You havenât seen her like this since she was a kid.Â
Like she was free.Â
Toru takes interest in this. She props her head up, eyes lingering on you.Â
âAm I?â she wonders.Â
You nod.Â
âItâs nice,â you tell her, âyou used to act like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders and nowâŠâÂ
Before, she still laughed, still joked around, but it all felt controlled. You always thought of it as strings digging into the skin of her arms and legs. She was a puppet hung on nylon thread. They yanked her back every time she said the wrong line.Â
âYeah, I can feel it too,â she tells you, âI think Iâve just realized that I can do whatever I want.âÂ
Her fingers gently crest on the skin of your arm.Â
âI can have whatever I want.âÂ
You catch the stress in her words.Â
âIs there something you want?â Something Satoru wants? For a girl who has everything, you can hardly comprehend her having a desire for anything.Â
âYeah.âÂ
The air stops. The room grows dark. For a moment, you feel as though you and Satoru are the only two people left in the world.Â
Sheâs closer now. You hadnât noticed she moved. Her breaths match yours.
 In. Out. In. Out. In. Out again. Â
âSomething Iâve wanted for a really long time.âÂ
Blue fills your vision. The walls are closing in. Lips draw closer to your cheek.Â
 âI think Iâm finally gonna have it.âÂ
Her head suddenly slumps down onto your shoulder. Soft white hair tickles your neck.Â
âYour momâs fluffy pancakes,â her whine is muffled by your shirt, âcan you please ask her to make them tomorrow?âÂ
Youâre laughing out of relief. You push her away from you, urging her to lie on the pillows.Â
âOnly if you sleep now,â you say.Â
She grumbles something, but she doesnât argue after that. Itâs quiet after you shut off the lamp.Â
The next morning, Toru gets her wish. She eagerly chomps down on your momâs cooking, while your parents gush at how well she eats. You were chiding at how messy she was, urging her to add less maple syrup.Â
Itâs still in the back of your head all morning. It lingers when Satoru leaves your house. It stays until days later.Â
Eventually, you tell yourself that you were flustered. Of course you were flustered. You hadnât expected Satoru to get so close like that. She was always clingy, but this was the first time she was this daring. It was just playful, you donât need to over analyze yourself.Â
And yet you canât help but remember the shiver down your back. You remembered the way you could hear your heartbeat throughout the night.Â
It almost felt like fear.Â
~
(It was some type of field trip.Â
The last day of third grade. The teachers wanted each student to have one last fun day before school broke out for summer break. Over 90 kids were released to run around the local park. Most children gravitated towards the lake, entranced by fishes and ducks.Â
You and Toru wander toward the other side of the lake, straying from the teacherâs eyes.Â
It was your idea. Youâd been giddy all morning, barely able to contain the secret. You wanted to wait until you and Toru were alone before you showed it to her.Â
She was equally excited, following obediently as you led her along the shore. Dragonflies soared across the lakeâs surface. Frogs dove under lilypads. If you werenât so distracted, you mightâve been tempted to catch one of them.Â
Today, you had a mission.Â
âLook!â You tell her eagerly. The envelope in your hand laid crinkled. You werenât kind to it, opting to stuff it in your pocket for safe-keeping. Stubby hands carefully unfold the paper.Â
âWhat is it?â She curiously asks. She recognizes the name scrawled in bright green crayon. It was that kid with thick-rimmed glasses. Toru often saw him doodling wobbly monsters on his papers.Â
You give a coy smile.Â
âItâs a love letter.âÂ
You keep on rambling, too engrossed in your own story to notice the way Toruâs breath hitched, the way she froze. You talk about how he stopped you just before class started. His hands shook. His voice wobbled. Cherry red plastered across his cheeks as he shyly murmured, âI like youââ
At first, you thought you fell.Â
You sank further down. Your ears filled with water as your clothes softly swished in the current. Panic was slow to catch up. At first, you thought about how angry your parents would be when they found out you drenched your clothes in pond water.Â
The water wasnât deep. A little more than one foot. You could easily wade out.Â
Tiny hands break the surface, reaching out for you. Toruâs hands. You instinctively reach out so she could pull you out.Â
Her hands reach past yours, right at your neck, and youâre pushed further underwater.Â
Panic kicks in then. You flail your arms. Your feet. Adrenaline claws at your veins even when thereâs nowhere for it to go. Your lungs are screaming for air but all you can do is look up at the blurry image of your friend because sheâs killing you, sheâs killing you, sheâs killing you.
Just when spots cloud your vision, something gives. Youâre hauled up from the surface and dropped onto the banks. Sunlight heats your soaked skin. Your drenched clothes cling onto your arms and legs. Youâre coughing up water and sobbing. You still canât understand what happened.Â
Satoru is silent. Through your tears you can still see her. Her clothes are also wet but it doesnât look like she cares. Youâre barely able to control your shuddering breaths when she speaks.Â
âHe canât have you.âÂ
Her voice is devoid of that childish lilt. Itâs smooth and calm.Â
You look up at her.Â
Her face is blank, but her eyes are filled with so much venomâŠ
âHe canât have you. Nobody can have you. Youâre mine.âÂ
âŠyou feel like youâre staring at a monster, rather than a child.Â
People catch on eventually. Adults and other kids crowd around your soaked body. There are worried shouts of âWhat happened?â while teachers gently urged you to calm down.Â
âShe fell.â Toru spoke up. Her original voice is back, filled with childish innocence that now sounds as fake as candy.Â
Someone is urging you to your feet. Another is urging you to breathe. All you can see is how the teachers and students gather around Satoru, praising her for saving your life.Â
She meets your gaze then.Â
Sheâs smiling.)
When you wake up, your breaths are just as ragged as that day from the lake.Â
You kick off the blankets, uncaring if they fell off the mattress. The carpet is soft under your feet as you make your way into the bathroom. You flick on the lights, knowing what youâll see but still uncertain.Â
Your skin is shiny and dull. The circles underneath your eyes are darker. Makes sense. You havenât gotten a lot of sleep lately.Â
It was the first time you ever truly completed that dream.Â
No, not a dream. Not a nightmare. A memory.Â
You mustâve repressed it for years, forcing it to sink down and down.Â
You think of Satoruâs eyes back then. They were just as bright as the ones Satoru has now.Â
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Satoru was always like this.Â
Until now, she just hid it better.Â
The memory of the lake, that cursed letter, still plays in the back of your eyes.Â
You take a deep breath, and you drown it.
~
You hadnât visited the Gojo household in a while.Â
Satoru doesnât invite you too often. You understand why. She prefers your house over yours. You share her thoughts. Her house always felt cold and empty. Despite the multitude of servants and housekeepers hired to keep the house running, it always felt lifeless.Â
Tonight, that feeling only got worse.Â
Your mom dropped you off minutes ago, but you still hesitate to go in. The house looks darker, somehow. Maybe you hadnât been here in a while, but it felt so different.Â
You linger around the mansion. A ding from your phone indicates your time is up. Itâs from Toru.Â
âDoorâs unlocked.âÂ
Large, mahogany doors groan as you push them open. The interior isnât so much different compared to the exterior. The house looks just as abandoned from the inside. Thereâs barely enough light to see. Apart from the windows casting in sunlight, thereâs not much else. Thereâs dust on the floor, in the air, on the windows.Â
Itâs such a stark contrast to house strict the gojo household was typically maintained. Earlier it looked well-kept but empty. Now, it just looksâŠempty.Â
âBoo.âÂ
You scream.Â
Satoru laughs.Â
âI really hate you,â you tell her once youâve calmed down, âyou know that, right?âÂ
âI know,â she cheerily tells you.Â
She leads you through the house. You follow close behind.Â
âSo, where is everyone?â You finally ask. You donât usually see Toruâs family members during your visits, but you always see attendants and servants around.Â
Right now, it just feels like itâs just you and Toru.Â
âMy folks went to some gala thing.â She tells you, walking ahead. You canât see her face.Â
âRight.â You nod. âBut what about the others?âÂ
She hums.Â
âNo idea,â she says, âthey just stopped coming around. âMustâve gotten fired.âÂ
You donât know what to say to that, so you say nothing. Satoru is more than happy to change the subject to whoever pissed her off that day. You idly listen as she rants and rants. You donât mind her griping. Itâs a nice distraction from the hollow mansion.Â
At least her own room is warm. Itâs bright and completely lit up with fairy lights. You sit on the fluffy pink comforter, admiring the posters she put up from her favorite band. She changes her favorites every two weeks. You doubt those faces will be up the next time you visit.Â
Toru turns the lights off, taking her own seat next to you.Â
âReady?â She asks, the tone of her voice is mischievous.Â
You settle onto the bed, frowning.Â
âLetâs just get this over with.âÂ
After days of begging, Satoru finally convinced you to watch a horror movie with her. You were never a fan of scares. Up until recently, neither was Toru.Â
âWhen did you suddenly get into the genre?â You prod. âYou used to be scared of Goosebumps.âÂ
âThe summer camp one is really scary,â she argues. âAlso, arenât people allowed to change?âÂ
Yeah.Â
Sheâs done a lot of that recently, hasnât she?Â
You donât respond. Instead, you turn back to the TV screen.Â
âSo, is it a slasher?âÂ
âNo,â she tells you, fiddling with the remote, âItâs a bad-good horror movie. Youâll like it.âÂ
She was wrong. It was a lot gorier than you anticipated. The storyline itself was pretty cliche. A family moved into a haunted house, oblivious to the haunted part. Very quickly, things begin to go wrong. All the classic tropes are there: delayed jumpscares, pentagrams in the basement, children crawling up walls.Â
âLetâs skip this part.â You tell her when the male lead and female lead inevitably start making out. You immediately sour when the scene stretches on to them taking off their clothes. You never understood why horror movies always focused on these parts.Â
Satoru laughs. âWhat, never seen dick before?âÂ
When you stay silent, she slowly turns to look at you.Â
âReally?âÂ
âYou havenât either.â You argue.Â
âI have, but I didnât just look.â She tells you with a sly grin. You blink, thinking of the numerous boyfriends she used to parade out in the past. You never knew she went that far.Â
âYouâve never even had your first kiss, have you?â She leans in, clearly delighted at embarrassing you.Â
You frown, speaking without really thinking.Â
âMy first kiss was you, idiot,â you tell her.Â
Itâs the wrong thing to say. You immediately sense it in the air. Thereâs a sudden drop in temperature. A chill travels down your spine.Â
Satoru opens her lips. A deep breath.Â
âYeah,â she says, voice quiet, âI was your first.âÂ
You donât know why she says it like that. It sounds less like a funny memory and more like a claim. Her eyes are wide and unwavering. She leans in closer. Youâre stiff.Â
âI was always your first.â Sheâs close enough that you can feel her breath on your cheek. ââMakes sense I should be your first for this, also.âÂ
That same feeling is back. Youâre a mouse, caught in sticky sap, the more you struggle the more you sink.Â
Her hand ever so slightly brushes up against your thigh.Â
The jolt is enough to send you careening back.Â
âThe fuck are you talking about?â You hope your laugh isnât too forced. âOh, we forgot the popcorn! Should I go make some?âÂ
Youâre already slipping off the bed. The movie is still playing. Thereâs the exaggerated sounds of screaming and ghostly moans. You canât look at Satoru, but you can feel her stare.Â
âSure.â She finally says like nothing just happened. âIâll pause the movie.âÂ
âDonât you dare.â You tell her.Â
You finally feel like you can breathe again when you leave the room and start for the kitchen. The chill returns, but you prefer it compared to the suffocation you felt in Satoruâs room.Â
Why was she acting like this? You try not to think too hard. She was just joking again. Itâs her personality to be clingy.Â
But youâve never seen her act like that before.Â
You brush away your thoughts about Toru, for now. When you get to the kitchen, your thoughts are focused on popcorn and nothing else.Â
Itâs strange being here alone. Usually, thereâd be an attendant or two lounging around, waiting on hand and foot. Now, thereâs nothing but the chill to keep you company.Â
You watch the popcorn rise in the microwave. The loud pop pop pop is a relief to your ears. Itâs a nice buffer from the quiet.Â
Since you arenât an animal, you take your time to find a nice glass bowl. You wait until the popcorn is cool enough to pull apart the back. Slowly, you shake until every last kernel is safe in the bowl.Â
Youâre stalling, but you wonât admit that to yourself.Â
Eventually, you have to return. You trudge your feet up back towards Toruâs room. A curtain catches your eye.Â
The door to the garden is half-open.Â
You hadnât been to the garden in years. Not since that day.Â
You slow your walk just before you pass it. Itâs barely lit outside. The flowers still bloom, even when the only light source around is the moon and the dim lanterns.Â
You set the bowl by the door. Â
Toru wouldnât notice if you got back a little later, right?
Itâs a lot cooler outside. The chill air leaves goosebumps across your skin. The grass is damp beneath your feet. You donât mind it. The scent of flowers is fresh in your nose. You hadnât been here in almost a decade. You wondered if anythingâs changed.Â
Things have. There are more labels now. Beneath every shrub and flower, thereâs a tiny sign. Plumbagos, one reads underneath dancing purple flowers. Cosmos, says another. Echinacea, delicate pink petals sing. Lantana, Guara, hibiscus, Aster, Roses.Â
You follow the signs deeper and deeper into the garden. You linger around others, breathing in their scents. Some smell sweet, others smell a bit more like citrus.Â
And then, thereâs suddenly the pungent smell of death.Â
Itâs such an instant shift you feel your throat close up. For a moment, you get nauseous. What is that smell? Did some type of animal die in the garden? Or maybe it was some type of new soil treatment? Compost?Â
You pull out your phone, and flick on the flashlight.
Instantly, you regretted it.
Bodies. A pile of bodies laid right next to the roses. Flies buzzed around decaying flesh. The smell only got worse the more you stared.
Is
The worst part was that you recognised them. You knew their faces. Before, they wouldnât even glance at you. They used to ignore you. They used to look down at you.
Tonight, the entire Gojo family gazes up at you in frozen horror.
âYou arenât supposed to be here.âÂ
Your phone drops. You spin around.Â
Her face is dull. Sheâs no longer putting up the faux bright eyes and the artificial smile.Â
Maybe sheâs realized thereâs no point anymore.Â
Deep down, you understand what happened. Deep down, you know whatâs about to happen.Â
Still you blabber. Still you fumble because Toru is your friend.Â
âToru?â You call out, voice weak. âWhatâwhat is all this? Didâdid youââ
âGo back inside.âÂ
You shake your head. You feel like you barely have the strength to stand. You canât stop shaking. Itâs not because of the cold.Â
âWhat happened?â You beg. âJustâjust tell me whatââ
She says your name then. Thereâs no term of endearment. Itâs clinical. Devoid of any feeling.Â
âGo back inside.âÂ
She takes a step forward.
You take a step back.Â
She tenses. Her body shifts in a way that canât be human.Â
You run.Â
You donât know where youâre going. The garden is a dead end. You just want to get away from her, away from the flowers, away from that cold mansion, away from the bodies.Â
She lets you go for 45 seconds, and then she closes the distance.Â
Thereâs a yank on your shirt, and youâre pulled down into the grass. Your back hits the ground, and she instantly straddles your hips. You shut your eyes as you hear her haggard breathing. Itâs not from running.Â
She sounds animalistic. Excited.Â
âLook at me,â she demands. She pulls back your arms as you pathetically try to hide your face.Â
You refuse. You canât. Youâre so scared. Youâre close to breaking. You canât look.Â
âLook at me.âÂ
Thereâs a squeeze on your wrist, threatening to break.Â
Slowly, you pull your arms back.Â
You look.Â
The gibbous moon illuminates her white flowing hair. Her skin is paler, almost a stark white. Sheâs grinning. Her teeth are sharp.Â
But her eyes are what truly makes you cry.Â
Her eyes are so bright and blue.Â
Theyâre glowing.Â
She looked just like she did on that chilly October night. When there was dirt underneath fingernails. Bare feet in the ground.Â
The smell of bonfires singes your nose.Â
âIt was you,â your voice shakes as the pieces come together, âyou killed Shinichi, just like youâŠwithâwith your own family.âÂ
âThey were in the way,â she hisses and you flinch and sob harder, âDonât you get it? HeâThey were in the way of everything we shouldâve been.âÂ
She reaches for you. You bat her fingers away. Weak, barely enough to do any real damage.Â
She leans down. Thereâs a sharp inhale as she leans into your neck.Â
âStop it!â You thrash in her hold. âStop talking like herâstop looking like her. Youâre not her. Youâre not Toru.âÂ
âI am her.â She growls into your skin. âIâm better than her. Iâm doing the shit she never had the balls to do.â
Youâre shaking your head.Â
âYou wanna know the truth?â She asks, shaking your shoulders. âWhere did I disappear to for days? I was out here, getting set on fire by my dearest family.âÂ
She grits her teeth. âThey tied me down, told me itâd fix me, told me that what I felt about youâwhat I always felt about youâ was unnatural. Monks were chanting as I screamed and screamed. I thought I was gonna die.âÂ
You can barely listen. Your hands are on her shoulders, trying to push away, but sheâs barely budging. Sheâs like a wall, unwilling to move, set on keeping you there.Â
âAnd then I woke up.â Her eyes simmer, like she isnât there anymore. âI was stronger, faster, I wasnât me anymoreâŠI was more.âÂ
Your sobs quiet as you stare up at her.Â
Hands trace your shoulders, your neck. Manicured fingers swipe across your trembling lips.Â
âThey tried to take me away from you,â sheâs telling you. âOf course I had to get rid of them. All of them. Shinichi too.âÂ
A wide smile stretches across her face. Youâre suddenly eight years old again, held underwater by childish fingers. All you can do is suffocate. Drown.Â
âIt was the only way to get everyone out of my way,â she whispers. âIâd do it over and over again. No matter what.âÂ
You didnât mean it. You were scared. You were pinned down by something that looked like your friend. Something that talked like your friend. Something that acted like your friend. You were scared. It comes out more hateful than you meant. Less fearful.
âYouâre a monster.âÂ
Her face falls. Heartbreak is written all over her face. You think she might cry.Â
âI thought youâd get it,â she softly says, sitting back up. âI⊠I thought youâd understand what I did for both of usâŠâÂ
Another tear slips down your cheek. She brushes it away.Â
Her bright eyes narrow into slits.Â
âIt doesnât matter if you understand or not.â Her voice is harsh, devoid of any softness. âYouâre mine, either way.âÂ
âI just need to get that into your skull.âÂ
âNo,â you beg as claws dig into your skin, your shirt, yanking on your clothes. âPlease justââÂ
Sheâs hissing into your neck, as she tears off your shirt with inhuman strength. Youâve only seen glimpses of it before. Now, it shows just as fully as tonight's moon.Â
Hands rake over your bra, playing with the strap.Â
âDo you know how long Iâve waited for this?â She growls into your ear as she pushes up the cup to fondle your tits. âDo you know how many times Iâd lay awake with you next to me?â Her voice is shaky, excited, as she pinches your nipples. You yelp under her touch. A purr rumbles within her throat.Â
âYou were right there. You were always right there. I just could never touch youââ When you reach out with your own hands to stop her, she shackles both wrists with one hand, keeping them above your head â-until now.âÂ
Fingers trace down to your stomach. You jerk.Â
âStopââÂ
Your voice gets caught in her lips.Â
Your second kiss is nothing compared to the first one. Thereâs no yearning, gentleness care. Itâs harshâfilled with sharp teeth, lust, possession.Â
She bites down on your lips. You whine against her mouth.Â
When she leans back, thereâs a trace of blood on her plush lips. Her eyes are at half-mast. Itâs like sheâs drugged. Drunk off the taste of you.Â
âYou taste so good.â She sighs. âEven better than I thought you would.âÂ
Youâre dazed from the kiss, your mind struggling to understand how this night turned so wrong. You donât notice the way her fingers tug on your shorts. Nimble fingers skim past your panties.Â
Her forehead presses to yours. Bright blue eyes stare into your own.Â
âI love you,â she tells you and you think she believes it, âI love you.âÂ
You think once she did. Once, her love was gentle and pure as she held your hand as you two squabbled about wedding dresses.Â
And maybe she still does. However, it wilted and burned. It was charred from the outside fires, left abandoned. And then it was warped into something sicker, more twisted.Â
A kiss to the corner of your mouth. âI love you.âÂ
Two fingers roughly enter your pussy.Â
You gasp. So does she. You realize it the same time she does.Â
âYouâre so wet,â her voice is quiet in wonder as she continues to push her fingers into your hole. âFuck.âÂ
You jerk under her grasp. You hate how well she plays you. The noises that escape your hole are humiliating. A wet squelch every time she forces her fingers back into your warm heat. Your pussy contracts with her movements, like itâs trying to keep her inside.Â
You zip your lips shut, forcing yourself to curl into her chest to hide. Sheâs not kind enough to let you.Â
âStop that,â she chides, nudging you away. âI wanna hear you. Lemme hear how good Iâm making you feel.âÂ
You shake your head in the last form of rebellion you have. As punishment, she shoves her fingers deep enough that it hits something spongy inside of you. You canât help it. You moan around her fingers.Â
âYeah.â You could hear the grin in her voice. âJust like that.âÂ
Her thumb presses on your clit as she leans down towards your chest. You shiver as a hot tongue circles your nipple before she envelopes it with her mouth. She suckles and bites, leaving you to squirm and weakly cry out as something coils deep inside you.Â
Sheâs not quiet either. Her gasps and purrs and is muffled by your tits as she lightly circles your skin with her teeth. She curls her fingers inside of you. Your hips snap up.Â
You canât hide it. Satoru knows you too well for you to hide it. She knows when you're about to laugh, when youâre about to smile, when youâre about to cryâŠwhen youâre about to break right on her fingers.
She releases your tit with a humiliating âpopâ. Itâs already swollen.Â
âGetting close?â She goads when your thighs unwillingly clamp together.Â
You donât respond, doing all that you could not to fall off the edge. Your hips jerk up and down, like youâre trying to ride her. A broken wail stops right at your throat.Â
âItâs okay baby, you can do it.â She urges, raking her teeth right on the skin of your neck until you feel the burn. âCâmon baby. Just a little more a little moreââÂ
Youâre screaming as your orgasm picks you up and smashes you onto the ground to splinter apart. Itâs the hardest youâve ever come in your life. Toru works you through it as your pussy milks her fingers.Â
She only pulls them out when you go limp.Â
Slowly, like sheâs savoring the feeling of your battered pussy still clinging onto her. You spasm weakly as she retracts her hand from your underwear.Â
Her fingers, covered in your juices, glisten in the moonlight. She eagerly takes them into her mouth, loudly slurping on your essence.Â
âSweet,â she grins.Â
Thereâs a flush to her cheeks. Her eyes no longer glow. Itâs like the taste of you made her regain her human facade again.Â
You canât move, not even when sheâs done. All you can do is lay there as Satoru clicks her tongue, mumbling something about a mess. She adjusts your clothes, pulling back your shirt, realigning your shorts to preserve what little dignity you have left. She gives a satisfied sigh when sheâs done, laying next to you on the grass.Â
She moves her head so she can hear your heartbeat. Satoru closes her eyes.Â
âShould we go out somewhere tomorrow?â She asks, calm, happy, elated, victorious.Â
You think of the bodies lying just on the other side of the garden, rotting away. You think of Shinichi left mangled in the woods.Â
âYeah.â Your voice sounds so far away. âOkay.âÂ
Your mother often warned you of monsters when you were little. She told you theyâd hide under your bed, deep into your closet. Theyâd steal your shoes and coats, if you werenât careful.Â
She forgot to warn you about the monsters on the bed. The ones you invited into your home. The ones with painted lips and freshly manicured nails.Â
You see her. The girl who stayed up with you until 4 am. The girl who helped you with your homework. The girl who stole your pens and pencils, claiming they worked better than her own. The girl whoâd never leave your side.
But you also see her. The girl whoâs controlling. The girl who constantly manipulates you into doing the things she wants to. The girl who hates seeing you happy if itâs not with her. The girl who nearly killed you over a fucking love letter.
You see someone whoâs both a monster and a girl.Â
You see Toru.Â
fictional men are bettet
just realized that my crush is a slut. Like why?
sincerely yours. (14)
âł gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.Â
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+Â
tags/warnings. explicit smut, violence, jealousy, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of cheating
notes. 7.6k wc. don't have much to say for now :'D i'll pour it all out on the last chapter. thank you for waiting on this one!
series masterlist -> episode fifteen (finale)
There were days, you realized, that were more forgiving than the others. At least you could say that in your world. You were so used to enduring the worst that life could throw at youâdrained by endless tears, heartbreak, and disappointment. Yet, every so often, there came days when life granted you a brief reprieve from the pain. Perhaps it was to prepare you for another storm. Or perhaps it was a sign that your heart might finally find peace.Â
You hoped it was the latter. Because today seemed to be a better day, as the morning light broke across the whitewashed walls of the hospital as if to signal a new beginning. The rain had finally stopped, taking with it the gloom it had cast over the city for the past week.Â
After days of anxiety and sterile air thick with disinfectant, the world finally seemed to exhale with you. The doctor said Sachiro was well enough to be discharged. The IV lines were gone, the heart monitor silenced, and the medical tubes pulled out, leaving only small tapes and faint bruises on your sonâs soft skin. He looked smaller somehow, fragile in a way that made your chest ache, though his smile was bright and unburdened like nothing had happened at all. What a strong boy, you thought in tearful silence. Feeling bad for your son, but also proud of his resilience as a mere 3-year old boy.Â
âDoctor, I canât thank you enough,â you said in utmost gratitude to the person who saved your sonâs life, âFrom fixing my heart, and now, SachiroâsâŠâ
âThereâs no need to thank me, Y/N. This is my job,â he replied, smiling, âBesides, your father and I go way back. I know heâd have given me a hard time if I didn't handle yours and Sachiâs cases successfully.âÂ
Your dad joined in with a chuckle. âIâm glad you know.â
While you and your father continued to speak to the doctor about medications, aftercare, follow-up tests, Sachiro sat cross-legged on the bed beside Satoru, eyes wide with child-like determination while in a conversation with his daddy. You caught the gazes they exchanged and didnât miss the chance to eavesdrop, listening in on them while speaking with the doctor.Â
âDada,â he said, with that little boy stubbornness he inherited from his father. âLetâs go home to your house.â
The words made you pause. Even your father did, too. Your dadâs brows even furrowed immediately as concern knitted across his lined face. âSachiro,â he said gently, speaking as if Satoru wasnât in the same room. âGrandpa's house is better for you. Itâs quieter. You should rest.â
But Sachiro only shook his head, his little fists balled on his lap. âBut Sachi want Dadaâs house! I like it there.â
Satoru didnât look at you when his son said it. As though he knew his sonâs request was a landmine waiting to be stepped on, which was also why he didnât interfere. Not one word from Satoru convincing anyone of anything. He simply stayed silent, allowing the decision to be yours and yours alone, even if he was the paternal figure to your broken family. Still, you didnât miss the sadness that shone on your ex-husbandâs eyes. Sachiro choosing to stay with his father seemed to have touched his heart in ways a normally disregarded parent would.Â
âIâll come with Sachi.â You stood there, a folder of discharge papers pressed against your chest, suffocating from the weight of your fatherâs gaze on you before he even spoke.
âY/N,â your father began, carefully, like he was afraid the wrong tone might make you snap. âItâs not⊠proper. You staying in another manâs house like that? Youâre unmarried.â
His words bit into you sharper than they should have.
Unmarried.
As if the ring once on your finger, the vows you had spoken before God and family, the home you once shared with Satoru Gojou had never existed at all. As if the boy sitting thereâyour son, with his fatherâs blue eyes and his motherâs gentle mienâhad been born without history, without consequence, without love that once ran so deep it drowned you both.
Your fatherâs voice then softened, cautious but only because he must have realized his poor choice of words. âPeople will talk, Y/N. They always do. I donât want you to go through this again and have Ian clear up your name every time.â
And maybe he was right. Maybe the whole country would, yet again, feast on this rumor like wolves on a carcassâhow the divorcee ran back into her ex-husbandâs house the moment she had her chance again. How she stayed there with him, nights under the same roof, like his shameless paramour.
But they wouldnât see the truth, would they?
They wouldnât see the nights Satoru never left the hospital, slumped over Sachiroâs bed in the same wrinkled clothes, red-rimmed eyes refusing to close even when exhaustion carved shadows into his face. They wouldnât see the way his hands shook when Sachiro cried in pain, the way his voice cracked when he told him it would be okay.
They wouldnât see that this wasnât about romance, or reputation, or whatever fantasy the world wanted to paint over it.
This was about a boy who wanted both his parents in one place because the machines that beeped by his bedside had reminded himâtoo early, too cruellyâthat life could take them away.
Your father sighed beside you. âIt isnât right,â he murmured again, his hand squeezing your shoulder. âYou're smart, Y/N. Don't make foolish decisions.â
âDad, IâŠâ Satoru suddenly spoke up, his voice laced with nervousness, so much so that he didnât realize he slipped and called your father âdadâ. âIâll take good care of them. Iâll be by Sachiâs side until he recovers and Iâll help Y/N with everything she needs. I promise theyâll beââ
âY/N, we should discuss this outside.â Your father callously ignored Satoru like he wasnât there. And you watched how he was visibly hurt by the way he was treated by your dad. He didnât deserve it, no matter how much pain you had suffered because of him, he was still human.Â
But Satoru wasnât just any man.
He was your ex-husband.
Your sonâs father.
The man who had once memorized every inch of your body like scripture and now hovered silently in the background, tucking Sachiroâs jacket into his overnight bag with hands too careful for someone so outwardly indifferent. He didnât even try to join the discussion anymore. He gave up with his one attempt and respectfully just let you decide, like your word alone could shift the earth beneath his feet.
And maybe it could.
Because you saw the truth in the little things: how he was genuine about taking care of you and Sachiro, how he was hopeful to be given a chance at letting you stay in his home. He must have seen it as the perfect opportunity to make up with you, especially now that you still had many things to clear up and problems to resolve.Â
You exhaled slowly. âItâs just for a few days,â you said to your dad, your voice quieter than you expected as you stood by the door. âUntil Sachiâs better. My decision is final.â
Your father looked at you like he wanted to argue, but the words never came. Because there was nothing improper about a boy wanting both his parents near. And there was nothing sinful about a mother wanting the same.
ââ
The days that followed blurred into something almost dreamlike.
Because Satoru Gojou, for all the chaos he carried in his bones, was steady now.
He didnât outwardly show his joy per se, but the bliss he felt inside glistened like stars in his eyes. He seemed happy, very much so, now that his family was living together with him as if everything had finally settled into perfect harmony.Â
Satoru rose before you every morning, padding around his penthouse in quiet socks as he prepared Sachiroâs breakfast and made sure you had something warm to eat, too. You could tell he was very specific about what he cooked, choosing healthy ingredients catered to a recovering child and a pregnant lady. He even refilled the humidifier in your room, worried that the air was too dry and could trigger your allergies. He moved through the house with careful treading as thisâthe son curled up on the couch watching cartoons, you walking slowly through the hallway with one hand instinctively resting on your bellyâwas something he might wake from if he breathed too loudly.
And he never once touched you without permission. Not once, which was unusual of the Satoru Gojou you knew.Â
Every time his hand brushed yours when he offered you tea, every time he tugged the blanket higher over your shoulders while you napped on the couch, every time he looked at you like you were something worshipfulâhe waited. He waited and let you feel his devotion without demanding anything in return.
Maybe that was what softened you.
Because you had told him you needed time. That he couldnât just slide back into your life like nothing had happened, like there werenât years of pain and mistakes between you.
But he made time feel weightless.
He made it so easy to forget the ache in your chest when he kissed Sachiroâs hair before bed, when he wordlessly washed the dishes after dinner, when he crouched down to tie your shoes one morning because you had bent down too quickly and he scolded you for it under his breath.
Was he only this sweet because you were carrying another piece of him inside you? You sighed, wondering why you still doubted his love even after the confession you both made that night by the lake. But you just couldnât help but think deeply sometimes, and maybe stare at the view of the city while thinking of thoughts that should never consume you. Thoughts of whether he would have been this sweet and devoted if it was Akemi carrying his child. Was it cruelty that made you imagine Akemi pregnant with his child just to feed your jealousy, even after she told you she was dying? Or was it spite that kept you from feeling even a flicker of pity when she said Satoru left her like she was nothing? Perhaps you even took pleasure in knowing that after all her desperate wishing to have a baby with him, you were the one he had gotten pregnant, without even trying, for the second time around.
You were never an angel to begin with, especially not after everyone around you had been brutal and malicious. She didn't deserve to suffer that much, obviously. But life was simply never fair, and she wasnât exempt from it.Â
The funny thing was, Satoru wasnât even aware of the spiteful thoughts that plagued you during those silent afternoons. He had no idea how you would manage to work yourself into a fury over imagined scenes of him and Akemi in this very penthouseârepulsed by the visions your own mind conjured. Maybe you were being petty. Maybe it was just the hormones. But every time Satoru walked by, oblivious and unbothered, you were simmering hotter than before.
But maybe he sensed it in the way you protectively held your stomach sometimes when you thought no one was looking. Perhaps he noticed how your replies had shrunk to single words, or how you would send him an accusatory glare when he was merely trying to start a conversation. Maybe he felt it, too, in the way you looked at himâas if this man, this flawed, beautiful man, was somehow your greatest enemy.
Damn it. Perhaps it was time to admit itâwas it truly jealousy burning through you, or was it the ache of being untouched by the man who supposedly was in love with you?
The room was quiet, and you sat at the edge of the bed in your nightgown, watching Satoruâs long frame as he got out of the shower, only a towel covering his lower half. His head tilted down like he didnât dare meet your eyes too long. He looked almost anxious, though he would never admit it.Â
And he had been so careful with you. Too careful that it bothered you.
âIs Sachi asleep?â He cleared his throat once and tried to strike a conversation. But you didnât answer. You ignored his pitiful attempt at talking to you, busying yourself by putting lotion on your legs. It felt humorous to have the upperhand now, with him clearly on edge, and you acting like you didnât owe him any interaction. â...Y/N, did I do something wrong?âÂ
You didnât return his gaze. Instead, you closed the lid of the lotion and placed it carefully atop the nightstand. âNo.âÂ
Next thing you knew, the man was already standing in front of you, his damp white hair dripping down his toned body as he crouched down to meet your eyes. âYouâve been angry with me for three days now. Please tell me what Iâm not doing right, Iâll fix it.âÂ
âLeave me alone,â you muttered, still avoiding his gaze while opening the drawer, only to see an unopened box of condoms. They werenât meant for you, clearly. He had probably saved it for when Akemi used to visit. And he knew that was exactly what you were thinking the moment he saw the box, too.Â
âThatâs notâŠâ He tried to explain, but what was the point? You knew they were sexually involved before her illness had worsened. Satoru could only sigh under his breath, the sound closer to defeat than frustration, then placed his hands on your knees with bright blue eyes that begged for your understanding. âIâll throw it away.âÂ
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. âYou clearly knew what a condom is,â you shot back, your tone sharp enough to cut. âShouldâve used it on me that night at the cabin.âÂ
For a moment, he was caught off guard by your remark, but then he shook his head and let out a soft chuckle like something had just clicked in his mind, something that made all this absurdly amusing.
âWhat?â you asked, irritation sharpening your tone.
Satoru reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from your face before lightly pinching your cheek. âNothing,â he murmured, a fond smile tugging at his lips. âYou acted like this when you were pregnant with Sachi, too.â
âWhat are you talking about?â You slapped his hand away, scowling.
He only laughed quietly, moving closer until his warmth pressed against your side. One arm slipped around your waist, the other covering your hand. âYou were always irritated with me back then,â he said, voice gentle, teasing. âAnd jealous. A lot.â He nuzzled your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. âAre we having a boy again?â
You hated it. The way your chest tightened, that stupid rush in your heartbeat. It only ever happened because of Satoru. You couldnât even remember the last time your heart fluttered wildly like this, but somehow the memory was still there, vivid enough to shatter every wall you had put up.
âWhy do you keep your distance?â you finally asked, your eyes meeting his ocean blues. âWhy ask me to sleep in the same room as you when it would be more proper to sleep apart?â
He wasnât obliviousâhe had to know what you were implying, how your words really pointed to his reluctance, his lack of intimacy, and the insecurity you were feeling because of it.Â
âWe just got out of the hospital,â he explained, almost cautious. âAnd youâre pregnant. I wanted to look after you but still respect your space. I thought⊠maybe you needed time.â
But you had laughed, incredulous, pulse fluttering. âTime?â
And that was all it took. Because then his arms dropped to his sides. His shoulders straightened. His blue eyes darkened, and you knewâyou knewâthat thin rope of restraint was about to snap.
âYou think itâs easy for me?â His voice was strained, like a puppy being deprived of treats. âEvery night I lie next to you, and all I can think about is you. Touching you. Tasting you. Being inside you. You have no idea what you do to me.â
Your breath caught, heart hammering by his confession. âBut youââ
âAnd how you wearing this thin nightgown,â he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, âdoes unspeakable things to me.âÂ
Literally so. Because you didnât need to look down to see the bulge growing under his towel. You didnât need to search his face to find the lust brewing behind his eyes. And somehow, his reaction excited you. His visible restraint woke all the desire you had been craving to satiate.Â
âYou still donât get it, do you?â Satoruâs voice dropped low as he caught your chin between his fingers. âThereâs a reason you end up pregnant every time I touch you.â His eyes lingered on your mouth, his breath ghosting over your lips. âLet me remind you why.â
It was him who crossed the line first. Him who kissed you, loud and passionate, pulling you tighter by the waist as if he might burn alive if he didnât. He groaned into your mouth with a raw, guttural sound that went straight through you, hands gripping your hips like he was finally done pretending he didnât want this. When he lifted youâeffortless, like you weighed nothingâand made you straddle him, his mouth never left yours. Not once. His kiss was everywhere: down your throat, across your collarbone, all over your chest, tracing fire over your skin.Â
And when his fingers tugged the strap of your nightgown, you realized just how long he had been holding himself back.
âTell me to stop,â he rasped against your neck.
You grabbed a fistful of his white hair. âDonât you dare.â
That was all he needed.
He had ripped your nightgown easily, though careless, and elicited a shriek from you. That was the last thing you thought he would do, but Satoru was getting rougher by the second, clearly because of your provocation. He was acting like an animal released from being in a cage for too long. He was hungry. Very hungry. And putting his mouth on your bosom was his first favorite treat.Â
You leaned against him as he circled his tongue along your nippleâteasing, suckling, and a little bit of biting. âH-Hey!âÂ
âSorry.â He displayed a smug smile before proceeding to suck your other tit. âGot carried away.â
While his mouth was on your breast, his hand was kneading the other. He massaged the slope with both a gentle yet rabid touch, flicking the nipple, and then back to squeezing your tit as if he was touching it for the first time. It was at that point where you couldnât suppress your moans anymore. You shamelessly melted into his touch, driven half-mad by the days of unspoken want that had finally come undone.
And in your own sensual frenzy, your hand reached down to just where his bulge was. It was hard, begging to be released, and twitching underneath the towel. He moaned from your slightest touch. Then, got too excited when you started rubbing him, he almost couldnât breathe.Â
âY/NâŠâ He pulled away, only to bury his face into the crook of your neck. âYouâre driving me insane.âÂ
âDid I tell you to stop?â you asked, almost sternly, which only excited him even more.Â
His smirk was that of a man who had won the jackpot. How arrogant! And so, he continued kissing your breasts, one after the other, and especially enjoyed when his face was between them. He didnât have time to do all this back at the cabin, since that moment was unexpected and it was your first time reuniting in bed after many years. But you remembered Satoru loving your pair, giving them equal attention and leaving every inch of skin with marks that belonged to him.Â
Did he love doing this to Akemi, too? Did he kiss her body like this? Left marks all over her skin like this?Â
Out of sheer frustration, you pushed Satoru back. His eyes went wide, startled, as if to ask what was wrong, but your glare silenced him. You stepped between his legs and yanked at the towel around his hips. There, his hard member stood, pulsating and dripping at the tip. Your finger traced the veins on his throbbing cock, making it angrier than it already was.Â
âY/N, pleaseâŠâ His face begged you to do more.Â
And it sure was entertaining to see him like this after a long time. Back when you two were married, you did it everyday like animals in heat. You were so smitten, so passionate, so intoxicated with your toxicity that every push-pull ended in the most satisfying, most mind-blowing sex.Â
You were on your knees as he looked at you, his entire length being stroked by your hand, before you placed your tongue flat on his tip. Satoru cursed under his breath and threw his head back, but you continued to roll your tongue along the headâthe pink and swollen headâthen finally started wrapping your lips around his girth.Â
Even with Toji, you never enjoyed giving head the way you did with Satoru. Perhaps it was the connection, or perhaps, it was simply because you prefer doing it to someone you really loved.Â
âFuck,â your ex-husband growled, seeing your head bobbing up and down as you sucked every inch of him. âThat feels so fucking good.âÂ
You even kissed the sides, the ridges, then put him back completely in your mouth. This time around, you forced it all the way down your throat, resisting the gag reflex but still ended up choking on his cock. Goddamn were you horny. You knew this was the pregnancy hormones, but you wanted more and you couldnât be stopped.Â
âY/N.â He sat up as you jerked his member, his entire length coated by your saliva, while he started pulling you up. You stood before him as he was face level with your tummy, and his hands began tracing your legs, your hips, until he was able to playfully squeeze your bum. Satoru looked up at you, then. With eyes that screamed of bliss, his chin resting on your belly where your baby would be in. His breath ragged as he looked at you. All of you. His hands traced your curves, lingering over your belly as though it was sacred, before he kissed lower, lower, worshipping you with his mouth until you were trembling, arching, gasping his name like a prayer. âCan IâŠ?â
Nodding, you could feel him give your buttocks a final squeeze before he started lifting your leg over his shoulder. The other stayed on the floor, which gave him the best access to see your pussy. And of course, he didnât waste any second before he dove in.Â
âSatoruââ
His lips were on your clit in a snap, tongue lapping between your foldsâslurpling, suckling, and tasting your slick inside. The deeper he was, the weaker your legs felt. But his strong arms held you in place, fingers digging into your thighs as though he could hold you here forever. Although one hand switched places with his mouth every now and thenâone moment his hand would palm your pussy, the next his mouth would be kissing your entrance, his tongue swirling in it and around it. Â
âGod, you taste so good,â he groaned, two fingers now stretching your core and entering you in and out, âBeen dreaming about this⊠about you⊠every damn night.â
âMhmmââ
He sure took his sweet time with the foreplay that by the time he made you lay in bed, you were already catching your breath. Your legs were already shaking, and your head was already dizzy. But it was not enough, no. Not for the both of you. You wanted him inside just as he wanted to be inside you.Â
So by the time he finally had you in a perfect, comfortable position, he spread your legs apart and placed his tip at your entrance. His lengthy cock teased, circled, and then rubbed against your clit. Again and again. Purposefully so, because he chuckled at the way you glared at him impatiently.Â
âHnngâ! Just put it inside.âÂ
He did it slowly when he slid into you, careful but deep. You swore you felt the world tilt off its axis. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath uneven, like he was trying to keep it together even now. You could see his girth coated with slick, with every entrance to your pussy making you clench around him tighter.Â
âMmâfuck!â
âYou drive me crazy,â he muttered, hips snapping harder now, and faster, too. Each thrust shaking through you until your words broke into gasps. âAll I want⊠all I ever want⊠is you.â
You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled sharp and hot in your belly. He kissed you through it, swallowed your cries, held you so close it felt like he might break you apart just to keep you. His bed was steady enough not to make any noises through the walls, but it was your moans that echoed loud enough across the room. The squelching, the whimpering, the snapping of skin-to-skin.Â
âSatoru, Iâm gonnaâŠâÂ
He held your hips in place, slamming himself balls deep into you, and watching your breasts bouncing all over the place as he raced to chase his climax. âMe, too, baby.âÂ
Both of you were tangled in sweat, and the sound of your own ragged breathing filled the room until he released thick ropes of cum inside you. You couldnât tell how much, but he stayed inside you for a minute or two, giving your lips a sweet peck before he finally pulled out. Almost immediately, his cum came spilling out of you. They dripped out of your hole as if they were too full and no longer had space inside.
It was filthy and tender all at onceâlove and obsession and devotion and ruin. And you remembered his words earlier, how this was why he could get you pregnant so easily. Funnily enough, it wasnât just about how much of his semen was inside you. Not literally. It was the love and passion he was pouring into your lovemaking. It was how your body would always recognize his, as though you two were perfectly made for each other.Â
When it was over, he scooped you into his arms, wrapped tight like he couldnât bear to let you go. He kissed your temple softly, reverently this time.
âYou have no idea,â he murmured, âhow much I love you, Y/N. Through anything and everything. Youâre my only one.â
ââ
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the living room curtains, warm and golden, catching in the strands of Satoruâs hair as he sat cross-legged on the floor with Sachiro perched in his lap. You sat beside them on the couch, one hand idly resting on your belly, watching the way Satoru absentmindedly fixed the cowlick in Sachiâs hair while the boy leaned against him, still groggy from his sleep.
It felt domestic in a way you hadnât felt in years. Too peaceful. Too comfortable. Like the war between your hearts had quieted for this one stolen moment.
âGood morning, Mama!â your little boy greeted.
âMorning, my baby.â You added it with a kiss to his forehead. âDid daddy make you breakfast?â
Sachiro hugged his teddy bear as his eyes fixed on the television screen. âYes, Mama. Sachi ate pancakes!âÂ
Satoru gave you a quiet look then. It wasnât anything naughty. In fact, he had a very thoughtful gaze, seemingly worried that he might have gotten too rough with you last night. âIâve prepared you a plate there and some apple juice.âÂ
âThank you,â was your simple reply. No morning kisses, no overly sweet gestures. Your son still wasnât aware that his parents were expecting again, so you were treading the situation carefully. It also helped that Satoru could read through your movements and respected you enough to handle it at your own pace.Â
âHey, Sachi,â you began softly.
He turned to you, wide-eyed, curious. âYeah, Mama?â
You swallowed, glancing once at Satoru before you said it. âYouâre⊠going to be a big brother soon.â
For a moment, there was silence.
And thenâ
âHuh?!â Sachiro twisted in Satoruâs lap so fast the man almost lost his balance. âA baby? Like⊠a real baby? In your tummy? Right now?!â
You nodded, lips twitching and unsure what to make of your sonâs reaction. âYes, right now. Mama is pregnant.â
His jaw dropped like you had told him the moon was moving into the guest room. âBut⊠but⊠how did it happen?â He blinked rapidly, the picture of childlike innocence, before his little nose wrinkled. âWait⊠donât tell me. I think I know.â
âOh, do you now?â Satoru acted surprised, poking his sonâs cheek. You smothered a laugh into your palm. He didnât even bother hiding his.
âYeah,â your son said confidently, looking between the two of you with all the gravity of a seasoned detective. âItâs because you and Mama love each other again, right? Thatâs how it works! Auntie Gen told Sachi babies are born when the mama and dada love each other.â
You froze for half a second. Love? You quickly forced a smile. âSomething like that.âÂ
But then Sachiro tilted his head again, eyes darting between you and Satoru like he was connecting even bigger dots. âIs Dada going to be Mamaâs husband?â
The words fell into the room like pebbles into still water. Quickly enough, your body went still and Satoruâs hand froze midair on his sonâs back. The boy looked between you both expectantly, as if marriage was the obvious next step, as if it was the only logical conclusion to his parents having another baby on the way.
You opened your mouth, then closed it, then forced a small, gentle smile. Sometimes, Sachiro was a little too smart for his age. âThat⊠is for another conversation, my sweetie.âÂ
Satoru stared at you for a good minute, careful not to cross any boundaries and give answers unaligned to your own. But you could tell how much he had wanted to say yes to Sachiro, to say that his dream of bringing his family back together was no longer far-fetched.Â
Meanwhile, Sachiro squinted like he wanted to protest, but then his face lit up, wide and beaming, his entire little body vibrating with joy as he threw his arms around Satoruâs neck. âIâm gonna be a big brother!â he announced, muffled against Satoruâs shoulder. âDada, we need to buy a big house like grandpaâs now!â
Satoru chuckled then. âOf course, buddy.âÂ
And for that moment, with Sachiro grinning like Christmas had come early, you let yourself believe in this fragile, imperfect little happiness. But still, there were many things to worry about. When your son mentioned his grandfather, you were immediately reminded of the things you still need to clear out before you can fully live in this dream-like fantasy.Â
It didnât surprise you how soon Satoru joined you in the kitchen the moment his son had become too engrossed in the cartoon he was watching. He knew there were things he had to clarify, so approaching you for a private talk was the next thing he did.Â
âYou told him,â mentioned Satoru, reaching for your hand. âDoes this mean youâll keep our baby?âÂ
You solemnly looked into his eyes. âItâs ours.âÂ
His warm lips pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. âThank you for letting me be a father to them, Y/N. I promise Iâll live my whole life serving you and our kids.âÂ
Sighing, you squeezed his hand. âBut Satoru, we still have to tell them.â
He looked up, confused. âTell who what?â
You hesitated, lips pressing together before you exhaled slowly. âI mean, my family. My dad, Genâthem.â The words felt strange on your tongue, even though they were your family, you knew this wasnât going to be easy. âTheyâre not going to take it well, Satoru,â you warned softly. âAfter everything, theyâll think Iâm out of my mind.â
He didnât flinch. Not at all. He simply wrapped his arms around you, his gaze softening in a way it only did for you. âYouâre right,â he agreed wholeheartedly. âThey need to hear it from us first before anyone else. I know they wonât accept it right away, but Iâll fight for you. I promise Iâll do everything until I earn their trust again. Maybe not fully, but even a scrap is enough. Even just trusting that I wonât ever hurt you again. Because I know I wonât.â
âSatoruâŠâ
âI mean it, Y/N.â He pressed his forehead against yours like a groom reciting a vow. âI lost this once. Iâm not losing my family again. Not you. Not our kids.âÂ
You stared at him, this man who had once been reckless with your heart, now speaking like he would burn down the world just to keep it safe.
And for the first time in years, the idea of a future with him didnât feel like a betrayal of yourself.
It felt like coming home.
ââ
The Creston mansion never felt so cold in your years of living there. It was the opposite of the Gojou mansion, where the air of toxicity lingered in every corner of their estate. But to your own familyâs place, you couldnât remember the last time those beige walls felt so lifeless. Its marble pillars, the polished brass of its doors, the cold gleam of chandeliersâeverything felt hostile tonight. It had always been your fatherâs pride, his empire, the seat of his authority. But as you stepped inside with Satoruâs hand brushing lightly against your waist, you felt like a criminal walking into the gallows.
Am I simply overthinking? You took a deep breath, but even the air felt shallow.Â
Gen was there first, rising from the velvet chair with a smile that faded the moment she saw Satoru trailing behind you. Your father sat across the room, his reading glasses low on his nose, glancing briefly at the two of you before setting aside the papers in his hand.
âGen, Dad,â you spoke first, cutting the tension before it could rise. âHow are you?âÂ
âWeâre fine. Howâs Sachi doing?â Gen asked as soon you both sat on the couch. âIs he recovering well? I thought you were going to bring him today when you texted me youâd stop by.âÂ
You offered a small smile. âHeâs pretty great, actually. He still needs more rest, but Satoru takes good care of him.âÂ
Your dad nodded. âAre you going to bring him next time?âÂ
âOf course, Dad.âÂ
There was small talk at first. Forced politeness. Gen asking about Sachiroâs daily maintenance. Your father commenting about the food his grandson should eat. They both pretended like the air didnât reek of tension while Satoru sat silently beside you, respectful, composed, with his hands folded in front of him.
But it was that one question. So plain, so harmless on the surfaceâyet heavy with implication that unsettled you.
And it came from your father. âSince Sachiroâs getting better, I suppose youâll be coming back home in a few days, right?â
âI⊠Iâm not sure about that one, Dad.âÂ
Your fatherâs gaze hardened at your answer. âWhat do you mean?â
You drew in a deep breath, deep enough it couldâve filled an entire oxygen tank. The words sat heavy in your throat, but you couldnât force them out, no matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much you had to. Maybe it was fear. But of what? That your family wouldnât approve? You already knew they wouldnât. That theyâd demand you return to the mansion immediately? That wasnât even the worst of it.
So you said nothing. You just sat there, lost in the storm of your own thoughts, not until Satoruâs fingers slipped over yours, squeezing your hand gently. It was his silent way of reminding you that you werenât alone. That whatever came next, he was staying. Because his love was worth fighting for.Â
Your father, displeased to see your hand-holding, broke the silence. âY/N, what is thisââ
âDad, Iâm pregnant.â
The house fell into stillness.
Even the birds outside stopped chirping.
âWHAT?!â
Gen blinked rapidly. Your father froze mid-motion, one hand still on a teacup that crashed onto the floor later. It was like the air thickened in a single breath, everyone caught in it, everyone waiting for the obvious name to be spoken.
âTojiâs, right?â your father finally asked, voice flat, cold. It was intentional. The question was disgustingly intentional that you couldnât believe it came from your father at all.Â
âNo!â you quickly denied, âYou know weâve broken up months ago, Dad. Itâs not his!âÂ
You could see Gen shaking her head, a hand pressed to her face as if holding herself back from exploding. But her sharp, furious eyes found Satoru in an instant. She seemed to have seen this coming, but refused to believe that her suspicions had actually come into fruition. âIs it the night of Shoko and Suguruâs wedding?â she demanded, her voice trembling with restrained anger. âThe one that turned into a cheating scandalâagainâinvolving my sister?â
Your ex-husband swallowed hard, guilt flickering across his face. âIt is.â
Your fatherâs eyes darkened.
And then he moved.
It happened so fast, the way he lunged at Satoru before anyone could speak, his fist slamming across your ex-husbandâs jaw with a sickening crack. âYou goddamn son of a bitchâ!â
âDad, stop!â you screamed, but nothing could stop an angry father whose daughter got hurt over and over. He grabbed Satoru by the collar, spitting words like fire as his fist landed on him again and again. âDad, please! Donât hurt him!âÂ
Even Gen tried to help out. âDad, thatâs enough.â
âYou bastard! You despicable bastard!â he roared, his voice shaking with fury you had never seen in him before, not even when Satoruâs first cheating incident tore your world apart. âYou already ruined her life onceâhumiliated her, made her sufferâand now you trap her again? Another child? Another lifetime of misery with you?!â
Satoru took the hits, grunting, stumbling, but not once raising a hand in defense. He let your father vent every ounce of hatred into his body until finally, he caught his breath and pushed back.Â
âI love her,â Satoru declared, jaw bloodied, eyes wild. âIâm s-sorry. I know it didnât seem like it, I know Iâve hurt her far too many times for you to believe it, but I fucking love her, and Iâm not going anywhere this time! I already wake up every day hating myself for the things I did to her. But thisââ He reached for you even as your father shoved him back, ââthis is my family. And I will fight for them, with or without your blessing.â
âBlessing?â your father seethed, âYou dare speak of blessings after wrecking my daughterâs life?â He turned to you then, his face red, his eyes full of both fury and heartbreak. âIf you choose him, Y/N⊠you choose this bastard and you are no longer my daughter. No longer a Creston. No inheritance. No name. Nothing.â
âDad, please,â you sobbed, stepping between them, your hands shaking as you held your father back. âPlease donât do this. Please.â
But your dad wouldnât listen. His voice cut through the room like a blade, speaking words that you never in your life thought he would utter. Words that even Gen herself, no matter how callous she was, could never speak to you.Â
âIf you walk this path with him, Y/N, you walk it alone,â warned your father, âYou will be disowned by this family. Completely.â
You felt the world shatter under your feet.
Satoru tried to reach you, his hand trembling as he whispered, âPlease don't do this to Y/Nââ
But the guards came before he could finish. At your fatherâs command, they grabbed Satoru by the arms, dragging him toward the door as he struggled, shouting your name. âY/N! Please, Y/N!â
âStop!â you begged and cried and pleaded to everyone in the room, but no one listened.
And the more Satoru resisted, the more they were aggressive to him. âLet me go! I need to talk to her! Y/N!â
His voice echoed through the marble halls until the heavy doors slammed shut, leaving you behind, shaking, sobbing, frozen solid to your place as your fatherâs ultimatum rang in your ears like a death sentence.
ââ
Satoru didnât remember how he got home.
One moment he was being thrown out of the Creston mansion like a criminal, and the next thing he knew, he was in the penthouse alone, pacing like a madman, replaying the events in his head until it made him sick.
You didnât come out of the mansion. You didnât walk out the door. Not even when they dragged him out like he was nothing. Not when he called your name with his voice breaking in half.
You stayed. You stayed behind.
And Satoru knew what that meant.Â
Blood ran thicker than water, after all. And Satoru envied you for itâfor the way your family stood together, for how naturally you fought for one another. His own family was nothing like that. Broken, dysfunctional, poisoned from the inside out. He couldnât quite grasp how yours could love so fiercely, so selflessly. It didnât sink in right away why you would choose them over him, why cutting them off wasnât as simple for you as it had been for him and his own family.
His chest caved under the pain of it. He staggered into the living room and slammed his fist into the wall so hard the frames rattled. Again. And again. Until his knuckles split and the sharp pain screamed up his arm, but never enough. He wanted to break something, everything. Maybe himself most of all.
âWhy,â his voice cracked, âwhy canât I fix this?!â
He wasnât sure who he was talking to. Was it God? Was it his subconscious? Regardless, the questions fell out like prayers no one would answer. His shoulders shook as he buried his face in his hands, tears spilling freely now, the mask ripped off until only the wreck of a man was left behind.
He thought about you. About the way you had stood there between him and your father, crying like the world was ending. About how he had ruined everything once before, and now here he was again, cursed to repeat it like some sick punishment.
âGod, I just want my family back! Please⊠Please, Iâm s-sick of this! Iâm fucking sick of it!â he choked out, his voice breaking as his fists hit the wall again, with each punch harder than the last. The plaster cracked and his knuckles throbbed, so much so that he wondered if he broke his hand, but he liked it that way. He wanted to feel it burn, wanted it to hurt because he deserved it, because maybe if it hurt enough, it would erase the never ending guilt crawling under his skin.
And he wouldâve gone on like that if not for the tiny, fragile voice behind him. âDada?â
That was the only thing that made Satoru freeze. He turned around to see Sachiro standing there in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and the other holding onto his teddy bear. He looked so small, so breakable, and his innocent gaze moved from the blood dripping down Satoruâs knuckles to the tears on his face.
âAre you⊠okay?â
Something in Satoru snapped then, not from anger this time but from the sight of his son looking at him like that. He quickly dropped to his knees, pulling the boy into his arms so tightly Sachiro squeaked at the suddenness of it.
âI-I donât know, buddy,â he whispered into his sonâs hair, his voice shaking so hard it hurt. âI donât know whatâs going to h-happen to us.â
âDada, why you crying?â
âBecauseâŠâ Satoru shut his eyes, inhaling sharply, âbecause I keep messing everything up. I-I canât bring your mommy back. Iâm sorry, Sachi. Iâm so sorry I canât give you the family you deserve. I⊠I failed you. I failed mommy and our baby. Iâm so lost.â
Sachiro wrapped his little arms around his fatherâs neck like he was trying to hold him together even though he was too small to fix anything. âIâm here.âÂ
Even his tiniest, most innocent gesture was enough to split Satoru open. Because after everything, after convincing himself, even for a fleeting moment, that he could be a perfect father to his kids, he was reminded over and over that he would never be.Â
He couldnât even manage to be a decent husband, let alone a good man. A cheater. A coward. A pathetic excuse of a man who had ruined everything good that ever reached for him. He disgusted himself down to the marrow. He was a piece of shit, an asshole, a useless good-for-nothing scumbagâ
The doorbell rang. Once.Â
Damn it!
Then, again.Â
God fucking dammit!
âDada.â His son tugged at his shirt. âSomeoneâs at the door.âÂ
Satoru stiffened, wiping his face with his sleeve. He wasnât ready to face the police, not after he had just broken down in front of his son, and still drowning from the heartbreak of losing you. Couldnât your father give him even a little bit of mercy and just let Sachiro stay the night?Â
Satoru felt like he was losing his mind.Â
The lock clicked. Footsteps crossed the threshold.
He turned toward the door with his heart pounding, Sachiro following him behind.
...
...
And there you were.
Standing with your bags, eyes red from crying, looking at him like there was never any other choice but him.
I did not even get rejected . He left me on seen.am i that disgusting?!




