Pairing: College Student!Gojo Satoru x Professor!Reader (FWBs to Lovers)
Synopsis: After the events of your latest night with Gojo Satoru, your former student and the new employee at your husband’s firm, you attend a party for your husband’s firm despite the arguments that have been brewing between you two lately. While there, find yourself face to face with Gojo again after months of avoiding him. When he offers another night with him, will you take that chance in fear of him telling your husband about your sneaky link? And what of that BIG little problem that may be possibly growing inside of you?
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); College AU; MILF!Reader; FWBs/Fuck Buddies; Toxic Fuckboy!Gojo; Switch!Gojo (MDom + msub); Switch!Reader (FDom + fsub); Public Sex; Infidelity/Cheating; Oral (Giving + Receiving); Deepthroat; Facefucking; Head Hanging Off Table; Spit Play; Pussy Drunk!Gojo; Cock Drunk!Reader; Daddy + Mommy Kink; Multiple Positions (Doggy, Missionary); Dirty Talk; Possession/Ownership; Cum Play; Breeding; Unprotected PIV; Raw Creampie; FWB to Baby Daddy; Accidental/Unplanned Pregnancy; Cliffhanger Ending (tee hee!)
Word Count: 13.3k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! I've gotten so much air play on this lol. Thank you so much for reading the first installment! I hope y'all enjoy this one! -Jazz
Credits: Divider by @cillmequick!
You stared at the little pink stick for a while, not doing anything with it when you knew you should have…but you couldn’t.
Fear and apprehension paralyzed you, afraid to see that little + signal once you finished your task. You didn’t know what you would do if the universe or God made it your reality. You had a hard enough time picking up the damn box at CVS that day while on an errand run while your family was out and the house was empty.
You purposely waited till your mother came to scoop up your kids for a day at the zoo and your husband is at work to do this. You didn’t need anyone or anything interrupting you…but now as you stood among the silence of your bathroom, you kind of hoped that something or someone would. Your guilt and regret was already seizing your gut, making you want to throw up.
You didn’t know why you decided to pick up a pregnancy test that day. Perhaps it was because you took Plan B within three days after your last hookup. Perhaps it is because you scheduled that doctor’s appointment at the end of the week and it came to mind.
Perhaps it is because just two weeks ago, you let both your husband AND your fuck buddy, who is also your former student, creampie your walls.
Plan B has never failed you before, so you couldn’t see it failing you then…though there are always chances. It is a flip of a coin and you prayed to God that that coin landed on the side that would benefit you. So you took a deep breath, followed the instructions of the test, and watched with shaky hands as the stick revealed your results.
It felt as if the entire room had gotten smaller, squeezing and boxing you in as if you were Alice and you just drank a strange potion. Especially since the stick read “+”. Positive.
You stared so long at the sign that your eyes began to grow blurry and your hand shook so badly that you dropped the stick in the sink. “Oh, God,” you whispered in horror. You did so as if your entire life had just been slaughtered right in front of you.
Your mind raced with multiple scenarios, and various possibilities and reasons of how this could have happened…and who could have made it happen. Was it your husband? God forbid, but was it Gojo? What will you do if it is him? After all, you slept with both men in one night and let both bust inside you raw!
Your husband, sure, maybe this could work in your favor, but Gojo?! Your former student, fuck buddy, and the twenty-something year old man that you were cheating on your said husband with?! What were you thinking?! How could you possibly let this man fuck you and cum inside of you without protection?!!
‘Because you’re a desperate cumslut,’ a voice inside your head hissed. ‘Because it was the hottest sex you’ve had in ages. Because you wanted it to happen.’
You pushed the accusatory voice away and immediately raced to the bathroom for your phone sitting on the nightstand charging. You immediately dialed your friend’s number despite her possibly being asleep because of an overnight shift at her hospital job yesterday. You needed to talk to her. Only she could pull you out of the mess in your head.
With each tortuous ring that went by, you paced back and forth in your silk slip, refusing to sit down. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. Sure enough, she answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?” she groggily asked. You found that you could not answer because the tears had begun to rise to the surface. You sniffled, covering your mouth to hide the beginning stages of your sobs.
“Y/N?” she worriedly asked, all sleep gone now. “What’s wrong? Where’s your husband at?”
“H-He’s at work,” you managed to hiccup, calming yourself. “The kids are with my parents at the zoo. I was at CVS today and I took a pregnancy test.” Your friend was silent as you explained, waiting for you to continue. “And?” she probed when you didn’t.
“I’m…” You took a moment to compose yourself, sniffling and biting back more sobs of pure fear. “It’s positive,” you whispered. Your friend was once again silent, letting your news sink in.
“Is it your husband’s?” she questioned. You bit your bottom lip, afraid to tell her the rest of the messy ass, soap opera story. “It could be, but…”
You trailed off, the big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you pictured that beautiful man with his white hair and blue eyes. Mr. Long Dick himself. Uncontrollable sobs began to escape you, unable to be bottled up anymore. “I fucked up so bad!” you continued to wail into the phone. “I don’t know what to do! I-I–”
“Okay, okay, let’s hold on,” your friend cut in, gently and comfortingly. Your voice of reason. “First thing’s first: who else have you had sex with recently other than your husband?”
This is what you were afraid to tell her. More than anything, you were afraid of how she would look at you. But you also knew that she was one of the people where keeping secrets was not going to fly with her. “Gojo,” you confessed with a solemn, defeated sigh.
“Oh, shit, Y/N,” she gasped like you just confessed to murder. “So you’re saying this baby might be his?”
You sniffled, indicating that yes, this may be true. Saying it out loud like that made it feel more of a concrete fact. It was out in the air and it could not be taken back now. Oh, what would your husband think? What would anyone think if they found out?
“So what do you wanna do?” your friend asked. “Or what are you thinking about doing?” You bit your lip, wiping away your tears and snot nose. “I can’t tell him,” you said, vaguely. Your friend was understandably confused by this statement. “Tell who? Gojo or your husband?”
You felt stupid for even saying it like that. It just blurted out of you to the point where you didn’t even know what you meant. “Both,” you lamented. “Not when my husband and I have been fighting for days now, and Gojo is the new employee at the firm.”
It has been over two weeks since your latest “hookup” aka booty call with Gojo Satoru, your former student, college graduate, and campus fuckboy and hottie. Since then, he had been blowing up your phone to the point where you had to mute his calls.
While that night laid dormant on your mind, mostly because of the fact that Gojo dropped a heavy bomb on you before he slipped out the door and the possibility that you could’ve been caught by your husband, you have not spoken to him since that night.
The graduation ceremony for the senior class of 2025 was just last weekend and you only muttered a mere “congratulations” to Gojo when he shook your husband’s hand after the commencement. He looked so handsome in his cap and gown, and you so desperately wanted to say more to your dazzling student…but you held your tongue because your husband was there.
Even if he wasn’t, you doubt you would even spend more than a minute around Gojo. With how good his cologne smelled and the painfully dazzling smile he wore, you could not be sure that you wouldn’t have folded for him.
You were a damn statue around him all day, refusing to touch him for too long (or at all if you could help it) and standing rigidly next to him when you were forced into a photo with him, Geto, Shoko, and golden boy Nanami, all students of yours in the four years they have been attending university. You tensed when you felt Gojo’s hand on the small of your back, his piano fingers gliding gently across your spine.
He didn’t say anything inappropriate while you were there. But of course, he confronted you about your behavior in text, asking you what your deal was. This had been his go-to form of conversation when you refused to answer his calls. You wouldn’t even answer those, contemplating whether or not to delete his number completely…but you never did.
Tarou 💙: First you don’t return my calls or texts…now you’re acting like you’re scared of me??
*Read at 7:09 PM*
Tarou 💙: Fuck buddy or not i was still your student. You didn’t have to act that way with me
*Read at 7:09 PM*
You: I’m sorry Satoru but my husband was there at the ceremony & I got scared.
*Read at 7:12 PM*
Tarou 💙: Scared of what??? He doesn’t know anything??
*Read at 7:13 PM*
You: But he might!! I can’t risk it!!
*Read at 7:15 PM*
You: I did what I thought was right so you can move on. I’m so proud of you, but you need to focus on your summer and YOUR FUTURE. NOT ME. You were an amazing student Satoru & you always will be, but that is all that there is.
*Read at 7:20 PM*
He didn’t respond to that one and left you on read (which admittedly stung but you knew it was for the best). And after a while, his calls and voicemails fortunately stopped. You thought that this would be the last you would ever hear or see of him.
To make your life even harder, on top of Gojo’s borderline stalker tendencies, you and your husband had been at each other’s throats for weeks now. And over the smallest shit in existence too! Stuff like why he kept washing the colored load of clothes with the whites when he could’ve separated them; why you were stealing the covers at night and leaving him cold; why you weren’t wearing lingerie to bed anymore.
And big things too, like why you haven’t had sex in over two weeks. Why you are too busy to fuck him even though the fall semester isn’t until September. Why you keep faking your orgasms when you do manage to have sex because you felt guilty about cheating with Gojo (yes, he finally caught on). The last thing you wanted to tell him was that you’re pregnant. You couldn’t be sure how he would react.
“Well, whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you, hon,” your friend gently said. “Don’t feel bad about your decisions. This is YOUR life and YOUR body. I just hope you know what’s best for you.” You sat with your hand on your temple, rubbing away the oncoming headache pounding against your skull. “Obviously not,” you glumly sighed.
That was a week ago. Fast forward a week later and you have yet to tell your husband or Gojo the news. You refuse to. Even thinking about approaching this Pandora’s Box nearly gives you a panic attack. You have yet to make an appointment to terminate the pregnancy either, and you know that time is of the essence when it comes to that.
While you wholeheartedly support women’s reproductive rights and will stand ten toes down for abortion rights, the idea of going through with it makes your stomach roil. Every time you look in the mirror, you rub your stomach, thinking you can see it getting bigger with each passing day. You remember how joyful you were when you were pregnant with your two babies, counting off the days until you could finally meet them.
You have always wanted to be a mother and have as many children as you can…but the idea of birthing this child when you have no idea who the father is stabs you with immense guilt. How would you explain to your husband why the baby popped out with white hair and blue eyes? What would you tell that child later if Gojo isn’t in the picture?
“Hey, Y/N.”
You blink, startling yourself out of your thoughts. You are sitting in the passenger seat of your husband’s car, dressed to the nines in your pretty red cocktail dress, red bottom heels, and your hair pinned up in a braided updo.
You look at your husband in his ironed suit and concerned expression. “Hey, honey, we’re here,” he announces. “You’re lost in thought again. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
You are confused about what he means by “here” until you turn to peer out of the car window. The banquet hall stretches before you, standing on top of a flight of steps like a wedding cake, teeming with guests in their best banquet outfits to greet the doormen and sign the guest list.
“O-Oh,” you stammer. “Sorry. I just had a long morning. Couldn’t go back to sleep.”
The lie is so bad that you cringe, though it isn’t entirely untrue. You did have trouble sleeping this morning…as you have for the past several weeks since you got your big news. You can’t even feel sexy or luxurious in your pretty dress and expensive heels because of your anxiety.
Your husband gives you a strange look between a frown and a grimace, a look you know means he is displeased. “You know, you didn’t have to come if you were just gonna be tired.” He sounds less than sympathetic to your situation. Of course, he would be; he has cared way more about his job and sex than he has been your well-being, you feel.
And again, you find yourself trying to soothe some balm over the opening wound. “No, I wanted to. This is important to you, so it’s important to me too.” But he snorts, making you flush with irritation. “That’s such a cliche response,” he chuckles, turning to check his mirrors.
You could burn a hole in the back of his head with the way you’re glaring at him. “So what would you rather have me say?” you pointedly ask. “That I didn’t want to come and leave you high and dry at your own work event?”
He catches the sharp edge in your tone and turns to scowl at you. “No, but at least you would’ve been honest. You never had a problem with it before.” You know what he’s talking about: all of those times after lackluster sex where you stopped keeping quiet about your feelings and let him know how displeased and unsatisfied you were.
This is what led to you fucking Gojo in the first place. As guilt eats you alive, you gently grasp your husband’s hand. “Hey, I’m happy to be here with you.” And you mean it…at least you think you do. You used to get so excited to go to parties and work events with your big-time corporate lawyer hubby, but now? You don’t even feel a spark. Yet you still act the part and press a kiss to the back of his hand. “You look so handsome,” you coo.
Your husband manages to smile a bit, relieving you. His eyes roam over your dress, making you nervous because you feel like they stick too long on your stomach. “And you…you look–”
Knock-knock!
You both jump, looking behind you at your window to see one of your husband’s work buddies already carrying a champagne glass. “There’s my favorite couple!” he shouts through the window. “C’mon, come join the party! You’re on the guest list!” He gives you both a wink before he tots off to the doors, being trailed after by other guests. Your husband laughs, shaking his head at you. “Duty calls, I guess. Let’s just try to have a good time and meet the new recruits.”
Oh, yes. The reason why this banquet was held in the first place: to welcome the new recruits to your husband’s law firm. New recruits like Mr. Long Dick aka Gojo Satoru, your A+, Summa Cum Laude, bright, sunshine sparkling student and aspiring attorney who was just hired as a summer intern. If he shows good progress and work ethic, he could be hired fulltime and gain money from work for law school.
You are damn near sweating in anticipation to see your former student as you walk into the beautifully-decorated banquet hall with your husband, your hand hooked through his elbow. “Wow, they really went all out this year!” your husband guffaws. “Just look at this place!” The entire place is surrounded with your hubby’s work friends, colleagues, higher-ups, and associates in their best dressed, dancing near the stage in the far back of the room where a live band places or conversing at the various mini bars and snack tables at each corner of the room.
You scout out the multiple exits just in case you need to find somewhere to retreat. And, suddenly to your horror, there he is: the very man you have been avoiding for two weeks now and possibly the father of your child.
He stands by the snack table with the other interns, all of them bright-eyed and full of hope for the future having graduated or about to enter their next semester. He is among the tallest of them, standing with a glass of champagne and wearing a crisp black suit that he looks absolutely delicious in. He is also wearing glasses. Glasses. You can’t remember if you ever saw him wear them in class before. You know that if you did know he wore spectacles, you would demand he wear them during sex just because of how damn sexy he looks in them.
You are absolutely transfixed and stunned by the sight of him. Especially since you haven’t seen him since the graduation ceremony. And almost as if he senses your eyes, his head turns just a slight right and his ocean–blue eyes lock directly onto yours. You think he would be angry to see you or ignore your presence altogether…but instead, he smiles.
That dazzling stretch of his lips makes your heart pound and your stomach flip. You are so glad that your husband finds a table to sit at, and luckily by a nearby snack table piled with champagne flutes, because you need to feel grounded. You are so sure that your legs would give out if you kept standing. But you don’t tear your eyes away from your ex-FWB, especially when he begins to walk over to you.
No, not walk. Stride. He takes his sweet time excusing himself from his group and making his way through the party, the group’s eyes lingering on him as he leaves them. You understand; his confidence and attitude are magnetic, his stride accentuated by his long legs and tallness. He gathers attention like Pied Piper and his band of children. Unfortunately, he has your attention too, even though your husband is sitting right beside you.
When he grows closer, your body grows hot and the walls close in around you, making you want to hide under the table. But you can’t. Not when he’s standing above you and wearing that charming smile. “Mr. L/N,” he greets, grinning at your husband. He then shifts his attention to you, still wearing that polite smile on his handsome face. “Professor L/N.” You think you detect a seductive, lower tone to this voice when he speaks to you. “Such a pleasure to be here and see my favorite couple.”
“Mr. Gojo!” your husband greets, abruptly standing. “So nice to see you looking so dapper. First impressions are important for a firm like this.” He shakes Gojo’s hand firmly, earning a light, sexy laugh from your ex-student that makes your stomach flutter. “Oh, I know. That’s why I bought the suit.”
“Well, you look fit for the role,” your husband chortles. “Not at all the college boy I knew. Graduation changed you.” He turns to you, expecting you to answer. “Doesn’t he look good, sweetie?” he probes with a bright-eyed look. You realize you haven’t spoken–or breathed–at all since Gojo’s arrival.
Your eyes nervously flit to his, blue and intense. The same eyes you stared into while he was above you, covering your body in his as he drilled his cock inside of you. “Uh…yeah,” you reluctantly reply. “You look very nice, Satoru.” You offer him a smile that you hope is polite enough.
Before he can say anything to you, you quickly turn your head to stare at the champagne flutes. Your escape route. “Ooh, champagne!” you loudly announce. “I’m gonna go get myself a glass, babe. Stay here and chat.”
You give both men a tight smile before you make a beeline for the table, having no intentions of drinking. Instead, you get yourself a glass of water instead, needing it to soothe your parched throat. Finally being free from the trap of Gojo’s cologne and intense, flashback-evoking gaze, you can finally breathe.
“Ms. Y/N?” you suddenly hear from a deep, semi-familiar voice.
You turn around to find Geto Suguru, one of your other bright students, college basketball player, and aspiring surgeon. He is just as tall, just as charismatic, and just as hot as his longtime friend Gojo is with his long raven-black tied into a bun and the purple tie tucked into his suit trailing up to his thick neck.
Geto was always a little quieter and more reserved than Gojo, but he was always quite smart and you’ve heard he can be a partier too…and an even better lover. “Mr. Geto!” you chirp, happy to see another familiar face from your classes that isn’t Gojo’s. “What a surprise to see you! It feels like I haven’t seen you in years.”
Geto looks at you with those violet eyes that seem to make young girls’ panties drop. You can understand; the eyes combined with his charming and sweet smile would definitely hook you if Gojo didn’t. “Ms. L/N,” he greets in his deep, melodic voice. “Wow…it’s great to see you too. I thought I’d never see you again.”
He actually looks stunned to see you here. You can’t understand why. You’ve spoken about your husband before in class, so Geto knows his practice. And you’re sure Gojo mentioned that he would be working with your spouse. “Oh, please; this world ain’t that big,” you joke, passively waving a hand. “So tell me, what are you doing here? You here with Gojo?”
“Yeah, I’m his plus-one.” He rolls his eyes when you coo in adoration. “He forced me to come here, but a lot of the other new interns and employees here are from my classes, so we’re just chatting.” He turns to get himself a glass of punch, spooning the liquid from the big glass bowl into his glass.
“I hope this perks him up a bit,” he says, more to himself than to you. “He’s been so out of sorts lately.” You feel your brows furrow in confusion and concern at this. “What do you mean?” you ask when you shouldn’t.
Geto looks like he doesn’t want to continue, but you have caught him in a trap. “I dunno, just…not himself. He barely seemed excited about graduating, even after the ceremony when we went for drinks that night. He usually picks up a girl for some fun, but…” His eyes widen and he abruptly comes to a halt in the rest of his sentence. “Sorry, Ms. L/N,” he sheepishly says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s always been so easy to talk to you.”
You don’t mention that you’re one of the girls his friend has picked up before. “It’s okay, Suguru,” you reassure him. “I’m happy to hear out anything you wanna get off your chest. Being an adult is hard enough.”
Your ex-student looks reassured by that. “I think he’s just kinda bummed out about graduating, y’know? No more college life. Now everything’s about work and bills.” He chuckles to himself to soften the blow, but you can tell he is fearful about this. You briefly wonder if maybe Gojo is too.
“Well, that’s not all true,” you giggle. “Life after college is about freedom too; freedom to choose what path you want to go down.” You sip your water, finally feeling calmer. “What was your path, Ms. L/N?” Geto curiously asks. “Did you ever find it?”
The question grasps you hard and you have no idea why. You would’ve simply replied a simple yes and told him about your path from high school to college, meeting your husband, becoming a teacher, and having your children. But for some reason, you are too dumbfounded to speak. You suddenly have no idea if you found your “path” or not now. Everything seems so muddled and confusing.
But with Geto still giving you that expression, awaiting your response, you give him a fake smile. “Yeah, I did,” you vaguely reply. “Excuse me for a moment.” Quickly, you put your water down and head for the nearest exit, strutting off in your red bottoms. You don’t turn to look behind you or anywhere else but forward, even when you think you hear someone calling your name.
You move faster, feeling your body becoming overheated and your head pounding from the instruments of the live band. You feel as if you’re about to drop dead if you don’t get out of here now. Finally, you shove the exit door open and venture out onto the railing of the building that overlooks the clean, cut lawn behind the banquet hall. It is quiet; just what you need.
You find solace in the cool night’s air; in the silence only interrupted by the muffled band music and applause resonating from inside. You know that a grand toast to welcome the new recruits will be soon, so you will have to cut this private time as short as possible…even if it does help you clear your head.
So you turn around to walk back inside, begrudgingly so, but jump when you suddenly see Geto blocking the door. You didn’t even hear him come outside. “Oh, Suguru!” you gasp. “You scared the crap outta me. Did I miss the toast?”
He doesn’t even answer you. He barely even smiles. Instead, he wears a rather stone-cold expression; one that is void of emotion. He comes up beside you, arms behind his back, overlooking the view before you. “You know, you don’t have to act so oblivious with me, Ms. L/N,” he suddenly says.
You blink at him, confused. “What?” you cluelessly ask.
“About Gojo,” he clarifies. “You don’t have to.”
You instantly feel your heartbeat grow faster than a hummingbird’s fluttering wings. There is no way he can know. “What about Gojo?” you ask, still playing the dumb role. “I don’t know what you mean, Suguru. Is there something you want?”
Slowly, Geto turns to face you, his violet eyes piercing a hole in you. He lowkey reminds you of a wolf or a tiger, hiding in a bush and staying hidden to size up his prey before pouncing on it, making it his dinner. “I know,” he says lowly. “About you and him fucking around.”
And there it is. Just as you were hoping it wasn’t, but knew it was. Your brain goes blank and you cannot speak, not even to deny it. Geto’s lips curl into a slight, sympathetic smile as he lightly chuckles at your stunned reaction. “You don’t have to look so scared, miss. I’m not gonna tell anyone and no, he didn’t tell me. He’s just shit at keepin’ things a secret from me.”
You can feel your body quivering in fear. He knows. If he knows then who else does? “Suguru…” You try to think of something to say. Anything at all! But your paranoia and fear have left you too shaken.
Geto’s gaze is almost comforting as he stares down at you in the white of the moon shining high in the sky. “You have nothing to worry about, Ms. L/N.”
‘Yes, I do,’ you think. He has no fucking idea how much you have to worry about this situation.
“Except for Gojo, that is,” he continues. “He really likes you, I think. He’s never acted this way after any breakup that I know of. I think you’ve got him whipped for you.”
He smiles at you as if you should feel flattered or be happy about this news. You’re not. AT ALL. “It would never work,” you firmly say. “He is way too young and he is my former student. It’s inappropriate and unacceptable.”
Geto’s smile fades, replaced with a tight-lipped frown. “And yet that I didn’t stop you from fucking him,” he bluntly replies. You flush with shame at his quick remark. “I’m not judging you,” he continues, noticing your defeated body language, “but I’m also not gonna sugarcoat nothin’ either. Avoiding him isn’t gonna solve much, ‘specially when he’s about to work alongside your husband.”
And he’s right. Goddammit, he’s right! Whether you like it or not, Gojo will be working very closely with your husband for the time he is working at the firm which means he will still be in your life. Perhaps indirectly if this child isn’t his, perhaps directly if it comes out that part of his DNA is growing inside of you.
Geto must take your faraway look for one of guilt because he gently, and carefully, pats you on your arm. “He deserves to move on from this and so do you,” he comforts. “Just think about what I said. Have a good night, Ms. L/N.” He then takes a step back to give you space and returns to the party, leaving you alone to brood and wallow in guilt once more.
As if the universe is punishing you further for your horrible decisions, your phone begins to ring. You open your clutch to fish it out, heaving a sigh when you see your husband’s name pop up on the screen. You pick it up, doing your best to sound as upbeat as possible. “Hey, baby,” you greet with a smile.
“Where are you?” he hisses, knocking that smile right off of your face. “You’re missing the grand toast!”
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, coming up with a lie right on the fly. “I had an emergency call with my mom. I’ll be back inside soon though, I promise.” He sighs, obviously tired and disappointed, and you already know that another argument is coming. “Y/N, you know how important this event is to me.”
You immediately feel offended by his accusatory tone. “Why do you think I put on my dress and got a babysitter for the kids?” you huff, not appreciating his tone. “And if I can remember correctly, you were complaining about the venue and having to buy a suit before we came here!”
Your husband is silent, the sound of someone talking into a microphone muffled in the background. You suddenly have an urge to say fuck this banquet and leave, order a Lyft and escape this horrible place…but even if you do, your problems will follow. Your rocky marriage will follow. Your unprepared pregnancy will allow. So you sigh, placing a hand on your hip. “I’ve been thinking–”
“What have you been thinking, Y/N?” your husband cooly asks. You swallow, doing your best to ignore the sting of his tone in your chest. You want to make this work as much as you can. “That we do counseling,” you pointedly reply. “For the sake of our family and because I can’t keep doing this with you. The bickering and fighting and…” ‘And the bad sex,’ you think, but don’t say.
But your husband is having none of it. “We can figure this out ourselves. We don’t need a fucking counselor and I refuse to discuss this right now. We can talk about it at home, okay?” As usual, he shuts you down. As usual, he shrugs off your problems and acts as if this isn’t a big deal. As usual, he is avoidant and prideful, too involved in himself and the stigma around having problems in a marriage to see that he is part of the problem.
You feel the urge to cry coming on, knowing that this will never be fixed…and that your decisions have made that fact even more apparent and way worse. “Fine,” you grit out and immediately hang up, shoving your phone back in your clutch.
You do go back inside, but you don’t go back to the banquet. Instead, you venture into the hallway in an effort to find a place to be alone. Luckily, you find a staircase leading to the second floor of the hall and you take that chance, not caring if anyone sees you. Fortunately, guests aren’t out here and the security guards standing by the front door are busy having cigarettes.
As you walk upstairs, one step at a time to avoid tripping in your heels, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of breaking into sobs. You quicken your pace, your heels clack-clacking up the steps until you reach the empty hall. You go straight down the hall and choose the first door you find that isn’t locked, pushing it open.
The room is dark with only the glow from the moon and the street lamps illuminating the various white tablecloth tables, chairs, and extra silverware surrounding the room. A storage room, it looks like. And empty. Perfect for you. When the door shuts behind you, you finally let yourself breathe and press yourself against the wall.
You feel the tears bubbling up, making your face flush hot. You cannot stop the sobs that push past your mouth. They start as a stutter and then turn into full on, uncontrollable blubbers and whimpers as tears stream down your face, ruining your mascara and blended eyeshadow, but luckily not your faux lashes.
‘Don’t cry, you selfish bitch,’ the same accusatory, critical voice in your head hisses. ‘You did this to yourself. You caused this. You don’t deserve any sympathy.’ And you don’t. You don’t deserve empathy or pity either. You don’t even deserve a husband who will go to counseling or marriage therapy with you. This is what you deserve: to stand in a dark storage room in your pretty cocktail dress, defeated and oh-so alone.
“Y/N?” You turn, gasping in alarm and surprise at being caught. The door is cracked open, revealing a spot of light from the hallway that illuminates Gojo’s concerned expression. You quickly wipe your tears away and clear your throat, doing your best to act as if you weren’t just sobbing your eyes out. “What are you doin’ in here?” he questions. “Why’re you alone?”
You turn away from him, facing the window instead. “M’fine,” you murmur. He scoffs in response, making your stomach clench. “Oh, so you’re still actin’ like I don’t exist,” he pointedly responds. “I thought you would’ve at least said hi.”
You groan, feeling a headache coming on. Whether it be from the crying or your FWB’s uninvited presence, you are still deciding on. “Gojo, please don’t do this right now,” you tiredly say. “I’m sorry that I didn’t properly greet you, but this is awkward for me.”
“And you don’t think it is for me?” he argues. “And don’t do what? You mean talk about our relationship like adults? You mean me being real about how I feel for you?”
Finally, you turn around after hearing the yearning in his voice. He stares at you, jaw tense and expression heated with a mixture of anger and longing. But you cannot find it within yourself to feel any ounce of gentleness right now. This isn’t just about him. “We don’t have a relationship, Satoru!” you hiss. “We were just sex and that was it! I couldn’t possibly…we couldn’t possibly…”
You pause, feeling the tears rush to the surface again. You abruptly turn away from Gojo’s softened gaze. “Oh, dammit,” you groan, your voice broken and stuffy with emotion. You feel a hand on your shoulder and flinch away. You can’t trust yourself around his touch. “Y/N,” he coos.
He places his hand on you again, but this time, you don’t flinch away. Instead, you lean into his piano fingers, even as he reaches to grasp your other shoulder to twist you around to face him. His hands ground you, making you feel real and present. “I’m sorry,” you sob. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. It’s all my fault.” You don’t elaborate on what you mean, not feeling brave enough to tell him the truth.
“I-I’ve ruined everything,” you continue to lament. Gentle shushes escape your ex-student’s mouth as he wraps his arms around you, bringing you into an embrace. “You haven’t ruined anything,” Gojo gently says. “C’mon…c’mere.”
And to your utter horror, you find yourself hugging him back. His lean body presses against yours, making a warm feeling twirl in your chest, traveling down to your tummy and then between your thighs. You haven’t felt his body against yours in so long. “It’s okay,” he shushes you. “Everything is going to be okay.” But you shake your head, sniffling into his chest, ruining the fabric with your tears and wet makeup. Nothing can ever be okay again. But in Gojo’s arms, you feel a little bit differently. You can at least pretend that things are the same. That things are perfect.
Then Gojo’s hand moves down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your spine. “I can make you see it,” he whispers. “I can show you that everything will be alright.” He holds you to him, securely and almost possessively. You pull away just enough to look up at him. And then you realize very quickly that was a mistake, because the way his Bahamian ocean-blue eyes stare down at you make you feel like you’re swimming in them, being cleansed and swept away into a sea of bliss.
“Satoru,” you softly whimper. His big hand presses against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing it and wiping away a lone tear. He gazes upon you so tenderly. In a way that your husband has rarely done. And then before you even realize it, he is leaning in (or is it you who leans in?) and his soft lips are on yours.
“You shouldn’t be doing this!” the imaginary angel on your shoulder screams. “This is wrong! You said you would stop!”
But it feels so right. And it feels so good. The way his lips move against yours and his hands grip you to him all feels so correct. You softly moan against his mouth as the kiss continues, deepening, going straight into heated territory as your hands grip his collar. Gojo takes the hint; you never have to tell or show him twice.
Immediately, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in for a deeper kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You eagerly accept it and press yourself flush against him, so close that your hips press into his, his belt pressing against your core. Gojo is an even better kiss than you remember. He is a kisser that you have longed for with the thickest, juiciest lips you have craved for.
And the thickest, juiciest ass too. You accidentally brush it as your hands caress his back as you kiss, but when you quickly pull them away, he takes your hands and places them back on his ass to indulge in. He pulls away from your slow, sloppy kiss to speak to you, his voice hushed and breathless. “I’ll say it again: your husband is one lucky motherfucker to bag you.”
He ducks down to kiss your neck, hitting all the sweet spots you like. Your eyes flutter closed, some lone tears dripping from your thick, black lashes. “Oh,” you sigh. “Satoru, wait.” Your brain grows foggy with pleasure, all common sense and guilt leaving you.
Gojo’s pillowy soft lips trail down to your throat before moving on to your chest, kissing the tops of your cushiony, soft breasts sitting deliciously up because of your strapless push-up bra. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you out of the house,” he groans. He looks up at you, his eyes hooded and playful. “And if I can remember correctly, you said you were mine that night, right?”
A whimper escapes you, one that makes the handsome devil smirk. “T-That was just sex talk,” you defeatedly argue. Gojo’s smirk continues to grow against your skin as he presses more heated kisses to your skin. “Uh-huh,” he chuckles. “Maybe you need to jog my memory a little, baby.”
He takes your hand and leads you over to the door where he takes his free hand, reaches behind him, and–
Click.
He locks the door. And you don’t stop him. Instead, you only stare at the man in front of you, helpless to his charm, seduction, and the need he has for you. “We’ll have to be quick,” he says, his voice hushed and low. “We might get caught or someone might notice we’re gone from the party.”
In an instant, all of your guilt, anguish, and shame disappears, replaced with a hot, throbbing need that starts in your panties and courses through your veins. “Then we’ll be quick,” you whisper, seduction lacing your words. You walk up to Gojo and begin to quickly take off his suit jacket. He doesn’t stop you, his eyes locked on you as you swiftly undress him.
Then you undress yourself, washed in heat and arousal. It is so weird how this man can swoop in and completely change you…and also very thrilling. He watches as you reach behind your back and unzip your dress yourself, dragging the zipper down, down, down until the sexy cocktail number drops to the ground. You are left in your strapless bra, lace panties, and red bottom heels. A sexy combination.
“Now please fuck me,” you whisper. Gojo doesn’t have to be told twice. Immediately, he swoops in and wraps his arms around you, his mouth enveloping yours in a hot, sloppy kiss where his tongue swirls with yours. Your moans escape you and enter his mouth, the both of you sharing in the sounds of your arousal.
“Jump,” he grunts out. You do so, jumping up against him and wrapping your legs tight around his waist. He catches you, hooking his arms beneath your knees and grasping your ass as he carries you over to one of the empty tablecloth tables.
He gazes down between your inner thighs as he peels your panties aside, the fabric sticking to your wet pussy lips. You moan as the cool air hits your sensitive lips and slit, all glistening and wet for the man staring at your pussy like a dessert plate.
“Oh, look at this,” he stutteringly whispers. “Look at you.” He takes two fingers and begins to stroke you there, making your toes curl in your heels and pleasure build in your core. “You’re so wet here, mama,” he dreamily sighs, practically drooling at the sight of his digits becoming coated in your wetness.
You softly mew and keen like a kitten from the tiny ministrations that give you immense pleasure. Gojo chortles, finding your reactions and the expression you’re wearing so adorable. You are sure that it is very embarrassing, but you cannot help your brows furrowing and your bottom lip sinking between your teeth due to the tingling sensations you’re feeling as Gojo rubs your clit.
He does so in semi-circles, applying the right amount of pleasure that makes you grip the tablecloth underneath your hands. His touch is so gentle that it is almost painful. You can feel your impatience growing; you need more. “Tarou, please,” you softly whine. “I need you.”
Gojo stares up at you from between the V of your thighs, your panties pushed to the side. “You do, huh?” he asks, quirking a brow at you. “Bad enough to say you’re sorry?”
You whimper pitifully as he continues to tease you, even leaving wet kisses along your inner thighs, leaving tiny hickies in his wake as he nibbles on your skin. “F-For what?” you stammer, biting your lip against his thumb rubbing your clit.
“For ignoring my calls and actin’ like I ain’t shit. For neglecting poor little me and this big ol’ dick.” He smirks against your thigh, sucking gently on the tender skin. “Satoru,” you begin, but you’re cut off by Gojo leaning in to give your clit a big, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. The act leaves you trembling and your head wrapping around his scalp to push him into your pussy.
“Tell me, baby,” he whispers, his breath fanning against your sensitive cunt. “Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll eat this pussy like you need me to.” He runs his nose along the hood of your clit, making sparks travel from your core up to your hardening nipples. “I’m sorry! “I’m sorry, Tarou, I promise!” you desperately wail, tears prickling your eyes. But these tears aren’t from sadness or guilt. They are from sheer desperation and need.
You stop Gojo short from giving you another clit kiss and hold his face in your hands. His pretty, dreamy face with those soft, blue eyes and pouty, pink lips. “Please,” you whimper. “Make me cum with your mouth.”
Gojo smiles at you, eyes lust blown and cheeks flushed from arousal. “That’s a good girl,” he coos. He then spreads your legs wider and consumes you like a piece of the sweetest cake he has ever had in his life. You are once again reminded of how much of a munch and a certified eater your ex-student is as he slurps and slobbers all over your pussy, making it wetter and juicier than it was before. His spit and your arousal drip down to your asshole that Gojo’s finger gently rubs, making sure he stimulates both holes the only way he can with his wicked tongue and piano fingers.
“Ah!” you moan, the sound exploding out of a desperate part of you nestled deep in your chest. You can’t seem to keep quiet. Sounds that have been locked up deep inside of you come rushing out as Gojo dives deep into your pussy, dipping his tongue inside of you and trailing it up to your clit, swirling the button around. “That’s it,” you groan, nodding in approval. “Just like that, baby boy.”
That pet name flips a switch in Gojo as he peers up at you. There is nothing but molten lust and a sinfulness that has you melting like ice cream on his tongue. “Like this, Mommy?” he teasingly asks before continuing to swirl his tongue along your slit before dipping back into your dripping hole. His nose brushes your clit, making you tremble and shake.
“Ahhh, shit,” you groan, tossing your head back. Your hands grasp the back of his head to push his face flush against your pussy. Gojo moans, his voice muffled by your thick thighs and juicy pussy lips smushed against his handsome face and mouth. Sloppy, squelching sounds of his tongue sloshing inside your pussy emit from his lips as you moan and whine, your heels dangling off of his shoulders.
Gojo licks and sucks and slurps, barely coming up for air. He eats you out like he craves it, making you feel a way that your husband never has or tried to in the past several weeks. The feeling makes your body tingle and your core tighten like a fist, about to snap. “Tarou, I-I’m gonna cum!” you squeak out, your legs shaking around his head. “I’m gonna…I’m g–”
The rest of your sentence dies off as your mouth forms a silent O, the pleasure electrifying you. Then your moans come out behind Gojo’s hand that he lifts to muffle the sounds of your release as you cum all over his tongue. His moans are appreciative and greedy, as are his tongue flicks and swirls as he cleans up your mess. “Mmm,” he hums against your lips, still licking.
Even when your orgasm fades and you come down from the clouds, he continues to lick, stimulating your overly-stimulated pussy. You shake like a leaf, the pleasure too much. “A-Ah, wait, Satoru,” you stammer out. “I-I’m…oh, fuck! M’sensitive! S-Stop, stop!”
Gojo laughs, pulling away from your pussy. His lips and chin drip with your wetness, much to your arousal. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he chuckles. “You just tasted so good. You made me so fuckin’ hard too.” When you peer down at his crotch, you see that he has unbuttoned and unzipped his dress slacks, leaving his leaking, hard, throbbing dick jutting out of the hole in his fly. You gape at it, stunned as if this is the first time you are seeing it for yourself. Gojo wraps a hand around his cock, his long fingers stroking himself to your heart’s content. “I was strokin’ it ‘cause of you,” he purrs. “I couldn’t help myself, baby. You felt so good wrapped around my tongue.”
Oh, how you’ve dreamed about this dick. How you’ve fantasized about touching, tasting, and fucking it for weeks now. In your haze of drunk lust, you peer at Gojo through your lashes, a slut slinking into your skin. One who doesn’t care that she is married and possibly carrying the baby of her spouse or side dick. “Lemme help you then,” you seductively uttered.
You trail one finger down Gojo’s broad chest, teasing him. You smile at the way his Adam’s Apple bobs just as you begin to pop open the buttons to his top, exposing each sliver of his pale skin and toned muscles to you. “Take off your clothes first.” Gojo’s own slut creeps into his skin; you can tell from his lust-drunk expression as his hands fly to his slacks. “Yes, miss,” he purrs.
He slips off his pants and boxers in one sweep, leaving him naked from the leg down when he kicks off his shoes too, leaving him in just his white polo socks. You leave his button-down open, liking the way he looks with his abs on complete display as they peek through the opening of his crisp, white shirt. Your eyes indulge in his muscular thighs and thick, long cock swinging between them.
“Perfect,” you murmur, your glossy nails dragging down his abs, earning a hum of pleasure from Gojo’s mouth. He truly has a body of pure art. It’s a body you’ve missed. It’s a body you’ve craved and dreamed of for days now. You can’t resist stroking his cock, watching in awe as both of your hands struggle to wrap all the way around him because of his girthiness. “I wanna taste you,” you whisper, peering up at him through your thick lashes.
Gojo blushes, making you giggle. He can become so bashful and flustered when he wants to be.
He then feeds you his cock as you sit on the table, legs folded beneath you and your hands jerking his shaft, the vibrancy of your glossy, red nails popping against the lighter yet slightly tanned skin of his cock. You moan around his cock, the muffled vibrations drawing straight to his balls.
He tilts his head back at the feeling, his white lashes fluttering as his eyes close. “Fuck,” he groans, that sweet voice making your pussy turn to a puddle. How you’ve missed those sounds of his. And how you’ve missed his taste. He is delicious, filling your tastebuds as he fills your mouth the more you push and pull yourself onto his cock. His hands move to your hair, carefully unlacing the braids from your bun and letting them tumble down your back. You don’t even care. You don’t mind it either.
After sucking on him for a while and relishing his moans, you peel your wet mouth away from his dick head though still stroke him up and down. “Can we try somethin’?” you softly question, relishing his soft moans and hums of pleasure. Lazily, he nods, his eyes hooded and a darker shade of blue than before. You sluttily smile up at him, giving his dick a quick kiss before you tear yourself away from him.
You twist around and lay back, hanging your head off of the table so your braids cascade down like a coiled river. You stare at Gojo from your new position, realizing that he looks sexy at every angle. “Ah, fuck,” he shudderingly moans. “I’ve seen a lot of porn with this move in ‘em. I should’ve known your freaky ass would too.”
He comes closer, his hard cock and heavy balls hovering above your mouth. You salivate for both, needing him back in your mouth, filling your throat up so you choke and gag along his shaft. “Tap me if you need to breathe.”
You nod and you are once again silenced with his dick, your throat making a squelching sound as he pushes himself inside of it. He allows you to get used to this new position and feeling with shallow thrusts until you finally relax enough to allow him deeper access.
Gojo bites back loud, porn-worthy moans as he fucks your throat dumb, growing harder at the sound of you gagging and the saliva dripping down your mouth and over the side of your cheeks. He fucks your throat like it’s a toy, his face flushed and jaw clenched. “Fuck, Mommy!” he whines. “That feels so good! I’m so f-fuckin’ deep!”
And he is. He has never been so deep, you don’t believe. You feel as if he is reaching your uvula–or that dangly thing swinging at the back of your throat, as Cardi B rapped about–and beyond that the more he plunges himself in and out of your mouth, fucking it as if he were his personal flashlight. “Need to breathe yet, baby?” he huffs out. You shake your head as best as you can, humming out a “Mmm-hmm!”
“No?” he chuckles, raising a brow in surprise. “Damn, you’re such a trooper.” He takes both hands and drags your bra down your chest to expose both juicy breasts, cupping and massaging them for yourself. “Or maybe you’re just a good slut for me.” At the mention of that one word that makes your pussy throb, you slide your mouth off of his cock and proceed to suck on his balls hanging down and lightly brushing your chin. “Oh, shit, baby,” he groans, his voice growing high-pitched and oh-so slutty.
You allow your throat to expand, opening it on an invisible yawn to allow him better, deeper access. Gojo moans and grunts in appreciation for this, his hips bumping against your mouth to fuck his cock with your sloppy, wet, tight throat the way he would your pussy. “Fuck, Mommy, you’re too good! I’m ‘bout to cum for you!” And as much as you want to feel him spray his spunk into your throat, you want him to hold off just a little longer. So you tap him on the thigh and immediately, he pulls out of your mouth with a wanton groan. You take a moment to recover, taking in some breaths, before you explain yourself. “Wait, wait,” you protest. “Not yet.” You peer up at him, giving him a sexy little smile that makes his cock twitch as it hangs at eye level to you. “I wanna feel you first.”
He knows exactly what that means. You can tell from the way he bites his bottom lip and obscenely strokes his cock in an effort to keep himself hard. “Stay right there,” he orders. “I’ll fuck you just like that.” You do as he says, staying with your head hanging off the edge of the table as he comes around to face your feet. You yelp and giggle as he tugs at your ankles, spreading your thighs for him.
“Gotta make this quick,” he pants, a smile curling onto his lips. “Just keep it down, will ya?” You stare up at the beautiful, young man, smirking as he pulls your panties aside once more to expose your sodden pussy to him. “You should be tellin’ yourself that, baby boy,” you remark. “You’re always so loud when you’re in this p–”
The rest of the word is cut off when his thick, long dick is suddenly sliding home inside of you. Finally. You moan in unison with him, grabbing his forearms as if to balance yourself despite lying down. You need to be grounded because the dick is THAT good! It wipes your mind and takes you far away from reality in a way your hubby’s never could. Especially when Gojo starts to fuck you.
You see stars as he begins to slowly roll his hips, building momentum and a pace that has your pussy opening up more and squelching so lewdly for him. Soon, he begins to draw himself in and out of you at the perfect speed and pace–not too fast but not too slow, allowing you to feel everything and rub your clit in tandem with his thrusts. “And you called me loud,” he grunts through your moans. “How does that dick feel, pretty girl?”
You can’t speak. The only coherent words you can form are “fuck” and “shit” combined with “oh, oh”s and “ah, ah, ah”s that you shout like damn mantras into the dark, sex-scented room. He grins down at you, the cocky fucker, his pearly whites gleaming with pride as he sluts you out the best way he knows how.
He then pulls you up by your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him so he is fully standing between your thighs. The new position drags needy moans and gasps out of you, his cock stroking your walls just right at this angle. You toss an arm over his shoulder, pressing your tits into his chest. “Faster, Tarou!” you beg. “Please fuck me faster!”
Your young lover doesn’t need to be told twice. He stares down at you with eyes full of lust and adoration. All for you.
“Faster?” he parrots, smiling at you. “Whatever you want, miss.”
And then gives it to you like you need, fucking you hard and faster on the table with every intention of making you cum. He fucks you so fast that the table squeaks across the floor and one of your heels falls off of your foot, clattering to the floor.
You don’t care. His sex takes you away from yourself, his pistoning hips sending you on a journey filled with nothing but pleasure. He kisses you, sloppily and messily, his tongue swirling with yours, leaving his mouth coated in your lipgloss. You love feeling his skin against yours, your nails digging into his back as you get closer and closer to your end.
“Baby, m’almost there!” you warn. “I can’t take much more!”
Gojo pants in your ear, lightly laughing. “You wanna cum all over this dick, huh?” he huffs. He pauses and draws his dick, sticky and shiny with your juices, out of him. “Then bend over for me,” he demands. His molten stare makes it almost impossible to resist.
You slide off of the table, still gripping the edge of it due to your wobbly, jelly-like muscles in your limbs. “Yes, Daddy,” you obediently reply.
That lights a fire in Gojo that makes him roughly and impatiently place you in position himself. He bends you over himself, one hand on the small of your back, and slides back inside of you. Your mouth falls agape, your eyes fluttering shut as his cock opens your pussy up, sinking deep, deep, deep inside its wet depths.
“Keep fuckin’ callin’ me that,” he demands, gripping your hips as he slides his cock in and out of you. “Tell Daddy how good this dick feels.”
You nearly melt around him at his dirty words, loving when he refers to himself as such. You can hardly explain the sheer bliss you feel as his long cock kisses that spot inside of you that makes you see the entire galaxy, shooting stars and the like exploding behind your eyelids.
“So fuckin’ good, Daddy!” you gasp. “You fuck this pussy so good!”
Your pussy concurs, gushing and squirting around him as he fucks you faster, his balls bumping sweetly against your needy clit. “I know I do. Your bitch-ass husband never could.”
He wraps a hand around your throat, somehow intensifying your pleasure with the way his fingers squeeze your neck. “That’s why you started this, right? So this young dick can take care of you properly?”
You moan in response, verbalizing your enjoyment from that “young dick” fucking you stupid against the table. With every push and pull of his cock in your wet hole, your legs shake and your clit sings in satisfaction, your fingers moving down to frantically rub at it in time with Gojo’s thrusts.
With one hand, he holds you still by one of your asscheeks while he grips your throat with the other. “Tighten that pussy up, baby,” he grunts. “Lock me in so I can fill you up.”
You do so, squeezing your inner thighs as you clench your pussy up as best as you can, earning a loud groan in response to your trick. You grin, almost deliriously, and begin tossing your ass back into his cock, slamming your pussy back into him to fuck yourself. “Thaaat’s it, fuck me back,” he moans. “That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Such a little slut for me.”
SMACK!
You yelp at the pleasurable sting of his hand coming across your ass, the feeling creating a cocktail of mindblowing pleasure that nearly sends you over the edge. “Gojo, I’m close!” you whine, your voice broken as you bounce on his cock, desperate to cum. “You’re gonna make me–”
Knock, knock!
Immediately, you both pause in your fucking and look at each other, wide-eyed and scared shitless. “Shit!” you both whisper-hiss to each other.
“Hey, somebody in there?” the stranger shouts outside the door. You swear you would’ve pissed on yourself if Gojo’s cock wasn’t inside of you. You hold your breath as the doorknob begins to jiggle, sending your heart into a frenzy.
There are more footsteps and you cover your mouth to avoid breathing too loud. “What’s up?” another worker asks. The doorknob jiggles again and the first worker huffs impatiently. “The door’s locked.” He knocks louder this time, Hellooo?! Hey, unlock the door! We need to get those tables out!”
You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Gojo, fear written all over your face. Surprisingly, he looks pretty calm for a guy about to get caught with his dick out and inside his ex-professor. He presses a finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet, and clears his throat.
“I’m one of the guests!” he hollers through the door. “Sorry, but I’m changing. I spilled wine all over myself and the bathrooms are full.”
It’s a shockingly simple lie that slips right off of his tongue. You wouldn’t have thought of that in your panicked state. The workers pause, obviously confused and professing Gojo’s explanation.
“Ah, well…no disrespect, sir, but ya may need to hurry up,” one of them gruffly replies. “We need more tables for this party and–”
“Totally understand!” Gojo interrupts him. “Five minutes tops, I promise! Just let me clean up…unless you two wanna see me naked.” He gives you a playful smirk and you nearly laugh behind your hand. You can’t believe he can even find the gull to play games and joke around right now.
But that gets the workers to fortunately leave. “We’ll be back!” the worker calls before he and his partner head off, their footsteps vanishing down the steps. You and Gojo wait awhile, waiting with baited breath as you both wait to be reassured that you are alone again. When you hear nothing, you let out a breath you were holding for dear life, relieved.
Gojo sighs too, comfortingly and thoughtfully stroking your ass. “That was close,” he sighs. “We’ll have to make that nut quicker, baby.”
Shockingly, he hasn’t gone soft inside of you. If anything, he is harder and throbbing more than he was earlier. What a freak! “Mmm-hmm,” you hum, wrapping an arm around the back of his head to pull him closer. “We can do that.”
You turn your head and sloppily kiss him as he begins to fuck you again, rolling his hips into your backside…but not at the pace he did before. It is slow. Painfully and agonizingly slow, taking his sweet time fucking you. “Go faster, Tarou, c’mon,” you demand, pressing your ass farther into him. “Why’re you goin’ so slow? They’re gone, Satoru.”
SMACK!
You gasp in surprise, your toes curling at the sharp sting on your ass. You think you hear Gojo groan at the recoil. “Patience, slutty girl,” he growls in your ear. “First, you need to tell me somethin’ I wanna hear if you wanna cum.” Oh, God, not again. You groan in agony and displeasure, deciding to unwind your arm from him to bend over again.
Deciding to do this yourself, you prepare to fuck yourself back onto him, but his grip on your hips stops you. “Tell me you’re mine again. Tell me you’re my baby, my girl, and mine alone. Tell me you love this fuckin’ cock.”
Plap-plap-plap go his hips as he slams himself into you, his cock plunging inside of your pussy faster now. “Oh, fuck, Satoru!” you sob, gripping the tablecloth so tight that your knuckles turn pale.
SMACK!
“I can’t hear you, mama,” he teasingly says. “Say it and I’ll give you all of this cum.” He pulls you closer by your hips, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with the force of his fucking, causing the table to wobble and shake beneath you. “Tell me, baby,” he pleads. “I need to hear it. Please.”
Almost as much as you love his dominance, you love his submissiveness too. Hearing him plead with you like that strikes a fire in you that can only be snuffed out by him. So you turn to stare at him over your shoulder, admiring his flushed cheeks and squinty eyes. “I’m your baby,” you softly moan, twirling your ass around and around, much to his enjoyment. “I’m all yours, Daddy. And you’re all mine.”
You push yourself back into him, bouncing yourself up and down, back and forth onto his dick. “Cum for me!” Fuck me and cum with me like there’s no tomorrow!” You beckon him closer, causing him to stick his face through the crook of your elbow as you once again wind your arm behind his head. He holds you close, pressing his front flush against your back.
“I want to be yours,” you whisper before giving his bottom lip a gentle suckle. They are forbidden words, words you should not be saying, but they get the job done. Gojo’s hips have a mind of their own as they piston against your ass, slamming his cock in and out of you at a pace that has you both moaning and cussing, pants and gasps leaving your lips.
You can hardly hold on anymore. Your body is giving out and your thighs are twitching with desperation. You feel like a balloon about to pop as your end crests. Finally, you feel your pussy tighten around his cock and that pleasure builds to a heightened frenzy, crashing down around you. “M’cumming, Tarou!” you sob.
Gojo digs his face into your neck, breathing in your scent as you blindly drag your fingers through his hair as he rails you. “Me too,” he groans into your neck. “Gonna give it all to you right now. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up again.”
Reality strikes and it’s like a record scratches somewhere. “W-What?” you stammer.
He doesn’t pay you any mind as he continues to fuck you hard and fast, chasing his oncoming orgasm as his cock swells inside of you. “Wait, wait, Satoru!” you shout. But your shouts of warning and protest fall on deaf ears as Gojo keeps going and going, bringing you along for the ride.
“Cumming!” he bellows. “M’cumming, miss, fuck!”
You cannot stop him as he sprays his spunk deep inside of your pussy just as you cream all over his cock. The moment of euphoria takes you away from your absolute horror at the obvious: he came inside of you. Raw. Again.
It is the reason that your high doesn’t last long despite its intensity, causing your mouth to form an O as a long, loud moan drips from your lips, your pussy creaming and dripping around Gojo’s cock.
But as soon as the feeling comes (or cums), it goes and you are left feeling dirty and manipulated. Gojo wraps his muscular arms around you tight, pressing a kiss to your tremble. “Ah, shit,” he chuckles. “That was amazing, baby. You came so much for me.”
He slides his cock out of you, groaning at the loss and the feeling of you dripping down his balls. “You enjoy yourself?” he teases, his lips tickling your neck. He nuzzles his nose into the space behind your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe.
“Get off,” you snap.
He pauses, the silence thick and tense. “What?” he questions, confused and hurt.
“Get off me!” you angrily snap, pushing him away from you. Gojo stumbles back, nearly tripping into another table since his pants are around his ankles. He stares at you in shock, his blue eyes wide like a doe’s. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?” he meekly asks.
You almost feel bad for shouting at him so. But you are absolutely furious and can hardly see past your anger. “I told you not to cum inside me! I told you not to, Satoru!” Your shouts are enraged and shrill, stopping your former student short.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N; I didn’t hear you. Plus, you never told me to stop before, so I didn’t…”
He trails off, awkwardly standing there as you hurry to put on your cocktail dress. He watches, scowling as you find your other shoe and clutch. “Where are you goin’?” he demands.
You barely spare him a glance; you don’t even zip up your dress or wipe his cum from your dripping thighs. “I’m leaving,” you snap. “Do not follow me.”
You find the door and tear it open, quickly rushing out into the blinding hallway light. But since Gojo is a rebellious little brat, he follows you, zipping his fly as he does. He has gotten dress, haphazardly so: his shirt is buttoned incorrectly and he is carrying his shoes, making it very obvious that you both just had sex.
“Sooo that’s just it?” he asks, glaring at you as you head for the stairs. “You fuck me and then leave after tellin’ me all that ‘I wanna be yours’ shit?”
You pause, your hand on the banister, and you turn around even when you know you shouldn’t. “Gojo, you know that was just sex talk. You act like I haven’t said worse. Please don’t do this now.”
The young man stares you down, his expression steely despite his wilted, white hair and flushed cheeks. “Do what?” he wryly chuckles. “You mean make you take responsibility for your actions? You mean being real with you about how I feel like adults?”
You glare at him, hating how condescending he is being. “Don’t talk to me like that!” you snap, wanting to throw your clutch at him in the heat of your rage. “And don’t try to make this my fault when you’re the one who came into that room and kissed me.”
Gojo huffs, smiling wryly to himself. “Sweetie, that was a joint decision, number one. And second of all, I only came in there to try and fix things with you.”
You guffaw, dry and humorous. You hate the sound and you know he does too. “Fix things?” you parrot dryly. “Fix things how, Satoru? What, you mean take advantage of my vulnerability and fuck me again?” You scoff to yourself. “Thanks, but you see how that went before.”
Gojo quizzically squints, cocking his head at you. “Da fuck does that mean?” he demands. But you ignore him, too involved in your own head. “This was a mistake,” you lament, pinching your sinuses. “That night I called was a mistake. You never should’ve come over.”
“Oh, so this is MY fault?” he growls, pressing a hand against his chest. Against the same heart you’ve heard beating in your ear when you fell asleep on his chest. “If I can remember correctly, YOU called ME after you said all that bullshit about our relationship being wrong and not calling you again. And I listened to you.” He says it so venomously that you flinch.
“Did you really expect me to say no when you hit me up that night? Seriously, Y/N? You know how I felt about you and you used that to your advantage. This was something we both wanted.”
And he’s right; you can’t deny it. You wanted him then and you wanted him just a couple minutes ago too.
The tears come again, fresh yet familiar, and you cover your face in an effort to hide yourself.
“I fucked up so bad,” you sob into your hands.
And like your knight in shining armor, even after you just bitched at him, Gojo comes to your rescue. “Hey, hey, shhh,” he gently shushes. “Don’t cry, baby, okay? You’ll ruin your makeup even more.”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in despite your resistance. “Listen, if this is really tearing you up, we can end this…but is it really what you want?” You pause, unprepared for the question to be asked. “I see the way you look at your husband,” he continues. “There’s no affection. You two argue a lot. You’re not happy, Y/N.”
You glare up at him through your tears, even as he looks so concerned and pained for you. “And you think you can help with that?” you scoff, wrenching yourself away from him.
Gojo scoffs, his blue eyes tantalizing as they are enraging. “I could damn well try…I mean, I’ve been doin’ a pretty good job so far, haven’t I?” He cracks a dry smile that you don’t return. You will admit that you have thought of what it would be like to end up with Gojo and often feel guilty for even cooking up the stupid idea. Now you just feel immensely guilty.
He takes your silence as sadness and does his very best to change that, as gentle and as sweet as a first time boyfriend. “I just want you to be happy, Y/N, and if I can do anything to make that happen–”
“I’m pregnant,” you blurt. The words explode out of you, blowing off your top like a teapot. Your eyes widen at the words and you cover your mouth in an effort to perhaps stuff them back inside…but you can’t. The truth is out in the open now, hanging in the air like cigarette smoke, present and thick.
You watch as Gojo’s blue eyes widen in shock, his jaw slightly slack from your revelation.
“You’re…” It’s the only word he manages to get out of his pretty, pink lips, shock and confusion evident in his face. You tremble in pure terror, stomach roiling and heart clenched. You could just about die right now.
Suddenly, Gojo’s lips curl into a smile. One that is obviously hurt, but still dazzling. “Wow,” he exhales. “Baby, that’s great. I know you’ll be an amazing mommy…and your husband will be–”
“It may not just be his,” you cut in once more. Gojo quickly shuts his mouth, his smile fading. “I had sex with both of you the night you came over.” You flush in your dress with heat, suddenly bashful. “Both of you came inside,” you quietly add.
The pieces click together for Gojo, evident by the way his brows furrow at you. “Wait…so you’re tellin’ me that I’m the father of your child?” he asks.
Hearing aloud makes it sound all the more real. And fucking terrifying. “I’m saying you could be,” you reiterate. “There’s a possibility, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly. I haven’t had a DNA yet, but not that that would even matter because…” You stop, your eyes trailing off to stare at your shoes.
“Because what?” Gojo pushes. “You’re not gonna have it?” He says it so gently and carefully that you almost feel bad for thinking of the option. He then scoffs, the sound sharp and raucous. “So why tell me then?” he asks, raising his arms in confusion.
“Because you needed to know,” you reply, your tone cold. “And even if I was gonna have it, I wouldn’t want you fathering it anyhow.”
Hurt registers across the young man’s handsome features, making you feel even more like a total bitch. “I’m sorry…that came out wrong,” you sigh. “I just meant I’m not gonna saddle you with a kid and you just graduated college, Gojo. You deserve to live your life without consequences.”
“But you’re not a consequence,” he impassionately says, taking your hands in his. “This? With you? Is not a consequence. And if you decide to have that baby and let me father it, that won’t be a consequence either.”
He presses a kiss to your knuckles, somehow making the urge to cry again push up against your chest. “Don’t you get it?” he groans as if panied. “I want to be with you, Y/N. I love–”
“Don’t.”
The word is cold and final, left suspended in the air as you tear your hands away from his. “Do not say you love me, Satoru,” you hiss. “I am married and I’m your former teacher, so don’t think we could ever be together or that you could father this baby. We weren’t even dating before this whole mess started and I got pregnant! We were just fucking!”
“What?”
At the other voice, you turn around, alarmed, and your mouth falls agape. “Honey,” you gasp, startled half to death. And you most definitely could die right here, right now.
Your husband stands at the end of the hallway where the elevators are, rage and devastation radiating in his eyes. “You’re fucking your student?” he snaps.
You can feel Gojo behind you, his shock and fear felt throughout your body. You stare at your husband, speechless, your stomach dropping into your ass. “H-Honey, I can explain everything,” you stammer. “I was going to–”
“And what’s this I hear about you being pregnant?” your husband hisses. You swallow hard, your mind growing blank and the urge to run blooming inside of you. Oh, shit.
bound by the dictates of the prophecy, the emperor contemplates whether retaining his wife or severing ties with her may be the sole path to fulfill his ambitions. yet, what he may fail to discern, is that the plague in his reign lies beyond what meets the eye
♱ genre. tragedy, revenge, period piece, renaissance au
♱ tags. 26k wc, extremely ooc, tyranny, emperor!gojo, empress!reader, (they are both insane!), unrequited love, religion (especially catholicism), blasphemy, mentions of infidelity, violence, war, rebellion, misogyny, impregnation, smut, disease, gore, death, arson
♱ notes. heavily inspired by anne boleyn's real-life story, and manhwas sister, i am the queen in this life and ten ways to get dumped by a tyrant, as well as shakespeare’s king henry V. direct quotes also derived from the movie the king. finally, the modern english version is here, and it is long overdue T-T
♱ FIRST TIMELINE OF LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS ♱
EARLY MODERN ENGLISH -> MODERN ENGLISH VERSION
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
SATORU, Emperor of Caelum.
YOU, of the same order.
SUGURU, knight commander of the Imperial Order of Knights.
TOJI, Emperor of Astheryn.
NAOYA, a duke, cousin to Toji.
GENEVA, nurse to the empress.
MAXIMILIAN, advisor to the Caelan Emperor.
NANAMI, a nobleman.
The Pope.
FRIAR MYCHAL, a Franciscan.
A maid.
A physician.
The Oracle.
Citizens of Astheryn and Caelum; kinsfolk of both empires; the Imperial Court, Nobles, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
PROLOGUE
In fair Caelum, an emperor reigns,
A throne usurped through blood and disdain.
Beside him, an Empress fair did stand,
Her love unmet, her heart unmanned.
No heir has graced their union still,
Her womb remains a barren field,
His anger thus come veiled in scorn,
To seek another, and secure his throne.
In this tale of sorrow, rage, and might,
Where empires clash and fates alight,
We delve into a world both dark and bright,
Where love and power wage their ceaseless fight.
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
THE LATE 15TH CENTURY
ACT I
Only slightly did you loosen up as the sequence of your steps were taken in slow but measured strides. Each footfall had a rhythm that was neither lacking in confidence nor hesitance, with your heels clicking on the marble floors and the sound of it echoing along the spacious hallway as if to remind every person within the vicinity that the Empress was arriving. You held your breath much to the tightness of your corset and tried to keep your emotions intact, taking a halt from walking knowing that your ladies-in-waiting were tailing you closely behind.
Two valiant knights stood by his door, offering a curtsy to their Empress the minute you had crossed their eyes. A knock on the door followed. Then, soon enough, you were granted a step forward inside your husband’s study.
There he was, ensconced behind his desk amid copious piles of paperwork, his attention undivided by the woman who graced his study with her presence. His locks, reminiscent of Arctic snow, were meticulously arranged, accentuated by the resplendent black doublet he donned, and adorned with intricate silver patterns upon the brocade cloth. His eyes, as blue as the sky and oceans alike, declined to meet the gaze of his own wife.
“What is your purpose?” he uttered.
Meanwhile, you made a swift curtsy and motioned for the attendants and knights to depart away, leaving the two of you alone. “I would like to have a word with you, Your Majesty.”
His countenance appeared to congeal as he fixed his gaze upon you for several discomfiting moments. “Of what matter?”
“Regarding the New Year’s banquet, my dear husband. It is due in a fortnight, and preparations must be set into motion.” You stood squarely before him, hands entwined before you. A regal presence. A queenly figure, fashioned precisely to his desires. Such was the image the empire had embraced since your ascension to the throne. Before him stood the epitome of grace suited to that role. “What do you say our theme should be?”
He closed the ledger he had been inscribing on, scrutinizing your features intently. “As you know, I dislike such events, but this banquet is an avoidable obligation.” His gaze shifted towards your gown that was meticulously crafted to complement your form. It was adorned with the same elaborate embroidery as his own attire, and accented by a sizable silver cross adorning your neck like the good Christian you were. “The people are starting to notice how grand our affairs are becoming; therefore, I prefer to avoid any unnecessary extravagance that might cause a stir. Let it be lavish enough to uphold our standing, yet not overly flamboyant,” he paused, “As for the theme, black and silver will be fitting to complement our regalia.”
The Caelum regalia, once bedecked in innocent hues of white and blue, underwent a somber transformation to black and silver upon his ascension to the throne. Behind this alteration lay a tragic tale. Satoru, the man whom you addressed as husband, had first borne the title of Crown Prince before ascending to the imperial seat. His younger sister, the infamous maiden who met her demise alongside her lover, was bound to an ill-fated romance that purportedly quelled an age-old enmity between two ancestral foes.
The forbidden romance between a scion of a Zen'in and a scioness of a Gojou, both of princely lineage, ignited strife between the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. With half a century of animosity between these bloodlines, a lust for supremacy, and an unyielding clash between nations, the discord erupted into a civil strife, ceasing solely with the ratification of a peace accord by the sovereigns of both empires.
Yet before all these tumultuous events unfolded, Satoru’s ascent to the highest throne owed much to you. Though you were not his intended betrothed, you were a lady deeply enamored with the prince; with whom he divulged myriad fervent nights with. As the daughter of a duke whose lineage boasted mastery in the craft of forging fine swords and weaponry, and so well-versed in the art of warfare, he saw you fit to stand as his empress, prepared to reciprocate your erstwhile unrequited love through means of marriage. However, this accord came at the cost of you aiding him in his quest to unseat both his father and mother from their thrones. He loathed his parents just as strongly as he did Astheryn. The rulers preceding him were despotic tyrants, showing scant regard for kinship ties, and they exhibited no sorrow for the passing of the princess, which was a loss deeply felt by Satoru.
Satoru carried ambitions of ascending to the august throne of Caelum from a tender age, and he was unwilling to await the natural demise of his father for ascension and instead, do it by means of force. He was prepared to imbue his hands with his own kindred’s blood to sit at the highest throne, yet such a feat was no trifling matter. The civil unrest presented the opportune moment to execute his plans, spurred on all the more by his sister’s untimely demise. With your military affiliations and strategic acumen, you aided him in orchestrating a coup d’état against his own kin. Ending it all with him, severing his father’s head with a sword, and you, killing his mother with poison. His other oppositions followed, and those who did not support his cause were offered a swift journey to hell through mass execution. Throughout these macabre events, you stood steadfast by his side, currying favor with the surviving nobility to fortify his position as emperor. Identifying traitors, you presented them for his judgment. In due course, you became his most trusted confidante, the sole woman deemed worthy to stand beside him on the day of his coronation, heralding the dawn of a new era for the empire. Thus, a new nation, a new sovereignty, and a new regalia were born.
“As you wish, my liege.” With careful steps, you navigated his study, casting an appraising gaze upon the books lining his shelves before pausing behind him. He should perceive that the banquet wasn’t the only thing on your mind that day. “Please, do not trouble yourself with all this paperwork.” Your lips brushed his ear. “Instead, should I anticipate your presence in my bedchamber tonight?”
He tensed, drawing a deep breath to temper his emotions. You always seemed to know how to push his buttons—in good and bad ways. You played him like a fiddle as always. Indeed, he was well aware that your desires surpassed the scope of mere banquet arrangements. “Very well.”
The distant gaze he cast upon you pierced deeply. Eight long years of matrimony, and only now did he begin to exhibit such aloofness. Only now did such estrangement manifest. What sudden shift had befallen this marriage? You were not privy to the answer, yet you strived to deny it. Nonetheless, for the sake of your peace of mind, did you venture forth with your inquiry. “My liege, I dare to believe that you do not hold a grudge against me.” Your eyes remained fixed upon his saintly face. “Do I speak true? For my failure to conceive during our last encounter—”
“It is futile to hold a grudge over matters beyond our control.” Displeasure thinned his lips. “What gain would I have in chastising you simply because you are barren?”
Pained by his words, you stepped away, quietly but firmly asserting, “...I am not barren.”
“You have not conceived after six years, that qualifies as being barren to me.” He flipped back to the page he was perusing, resuming his writing.
Any trace of happiness that once adorned your mien now dissipated, and was replaced by the shadows of his cutting words. “Then, what plan shall you devise if I fail to bear your offspring?”
Satoru halted in his writing, his quill suspended in the air. He closed his eyes as he spoke, “If you do not conceive in the foreseeable future, I have no choice but to divorce you. No matter the cost.”
Your eyes widened at his decision, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of his words settled upon you. His words seemed rehearsed, so well-thought of, as though he had expected this day to come and heretofore looked forward to informing you of this very plan. You failed to catch his reasoning, but succeeded at bearing the pain it had burdened you. What had driven him to this conclusion? Certainly, a mere heir would not lead him to this ultimatum.
“Are you suggesting a concubine, then?” Firm and resolute in your stance was how you received his proposal.
The emperor averted his gaze, allowing silence to stand as your response for several minutes until he finally articulated a considerate reply. “My heir cannot be born a bastard, and so concubines would only complicate matters. I have no plans in that department.” You sensed the direction of his thoughts, and you dreaded his continuation. “Instead, I implore you to abdicate your throne, and I shall marry another lady, whether of royal or imperial lineage, to bear the heir of this empire. It is the only fitting course of action, one which may necessitate a divorce.”
“Step down from my throne?” Your voice quavered, laced with disbelief and anguish. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Would you cast me aside, discard me like a worn-out garment in your ill-tempered state, all for the sake of an heir? After everything I have done for you.” Your words echoed in the chamber, each syllable heavy with the betrayal you felt.
Your heart, once brimming with devotion, now lay shattered at your feet. All your life, you have loved him. All your happiness and tears, you have devoted to him. You had stood by his side through every trial, every conquest, only to be deemed unworthy of bearing his legacy. The sting of rejection seared your soul, igniting a fierce resolve within your wounded spirit. Yet nothing was his response. No words of comfort did he return for your wifely agony.
With a voice trembling through a mixture of sorrow and defiance, you met his gaze. “Fair enough,” you whispered, your tone laden with a sorrowful resignation. “If it is a concubine you seek, then so be it. But a divorce, I will not accept. And know this, my lord,” you declared, your voice rising with newfound strength, “I am the Empress. The one and only. There is none within this empire comparable to me, for a worthless, lowly concubine shall not depose this Empress Y/N of Caleum you would so readily compromise."
And in that solemn proclamation, you turned away, your stolid mien masking the shattered pieces of your fractured heart.
His countenance remained stoic as he observed your departure, sighing inwardly as you exited his study. Although no longer offering a response, he found himself unable to deny the truth of your words. Nor the power in which you presented them. Your presence lingered in his thoughts, holding sway over him in a manner he could not fathom.
As expected, you were epitome of a powerful empress just like what his mother once was and there ought to be a lot more convincing for you to step down from your post.
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ACT II
“If the oracle speaks the truth, then I fear, my lord, that this empire is destined for downfall.”
It was late in the night, though the castle still brimmed with light from the torches adorning the halls. Most servants had retired to bed by this hour, barring the guards stationed at key areas of the castle. Meanwhile, the emperor remained awake, engaged in discussions concerning the fate of his sovereign. A predestined fate that could only be avoided should he make the effort to fulfill the conditions of the prophecy.
Standing discreetly before him was Lord Maximillian, his advisor—a man who had witnessed his growth from juvenile years to the present moment. He had come to offer the emperor the much-needed counsel regarding the pressing matter at hand.
“Max, what do you say? Tell me, do you think I am incapable?” The man of higher power questioned. “I have discussed the divorce with the Empress. I have outlined my plan in case she fails to bear my heir, and presented it in a way that seems fair to her. Yet, she reacts with such intensity. And she loves so fiercely. Oh, women. Such troublesome, defiant women are the issue! She’s a shrew—that is what she is. For many years, I have given her the benefit of the doubt. Her ambitions outweigh her sense. I am at a loss on how to proceed with her any further. The prophecy demands that I have an heir.”
The old man returned him a soulless look. “If you interpret the matter differently than intended, then may I suggest that Your Majesty consider disposing of her.”
“Dispose?” he queried, as though he had misheard. “Her? My wife? You suggest it best to dispose of her?”
“Yes, I believe it is. In the same manner as your father and mother,” Maximillian asserted, drawing a deep breath. “Please, do not misunderstand my intentions as treason. My loyalty rests with you, my liege. I stand beside you. I desire nothing but the best for you, for this empire has not seen better days than under your rule.”
Silence enveloped the air. Satoru took a moment to gaze at his elongating shadow, gradually shaping itself as he moved farther from the candlelight. In the darkness, his shadow morphed into a menacing silhouette, a specter lurking in the darkness was what had become of him. To become a tyrant was never his intention nor the promise he made to his departed sister, who yearned nothing but for Satoru to embody fairness and strength in rulership. And to be an emperor for the people. She had strived for peace among nations, yet here her brother stood, mirroring the oppressive parental figures he had overthrown. What allure did power hold over him? What such force could sway him now to forsake the very individual who had displayed unwavering marital devotion towards him?
“Have you been in communication with the King of Ellesmere?” inquired the Emperor. “Is it not true that his daughter, the princess, was to marry the late Prince of Astheryn? That prince was the son of that villain. That tyrant. Emperor Toji of Astheryn, my foremost enemy. What has become of that princess, do you know?”
Maximillian stared at him intently. “She is twenty-eight years old and past her marriageable age, yet Princess Katarina remains unwed. Is it her hand that Your Majesty seeks?”
“I say this as the Emperor: it is solely her status that renders her the only eligible woman to be my wife and empress of this empire." His decision was laden with hesitation yet compelled by necessity. “However, for the moment, she cannot be seated until Y/N has been removed from her position. My decision will depend on whether my wife can produce my heir soon. If not, I shall dispose of her.”
His advisor sent him a look of approval. “'Tis a decision that can only emanate from you, my lord. May God be with you.”
“If that is all, then you can leave.” The emperor paused near the western part of the castle, not far from the corridors leading to his wife's bedchamber. “I ask you to be my messenger tomorrow. Write to the King of Ellesmere, briefly and clearly. Before you falsely honor a new empress, know that the long hours of my night are to be spent with the woman currently occupying the throne.”
Eventually, Satoru reached your chambers and noticed that a few candles had been lit, their warm light illuminating the room softly. In the solitude in which you found yourself, seated by the bed and bathed in moonlight, silent in such serenity he hoped not to disturb. The fabric of your nightgown, thin and delicate, revealed the contours of your womanly figure beneath. He, too, was clad in a thin robe that left little to the imagination.
As you turned to face him, you caught sight of the faint scars and marks from countless battles etched across his body, though his expression remained mostly neutral as it always had and you were unbeknownst to the profanity he had spoken of you a few minutes hence. Now, his electric blue eyes looked at you with careful scrutiny, pondering whether this sensual encounter would all be in vain or if you truly intended to fulfill your role and bear an heir this time.
“What hour is it?” You spoke softly, approaching him with a sorrowful glint in your eyes. “I have waited.”
“Apologies. Urgent matters demanded my attention.” Satoru could see the sadness in your eyes, but he tried his best to ignore it. You are barren, and there is little he can do to change that. He should begin his newfound task to detach from you. You brought him no good. You offered him no better fate. You were no longer instrumental for him to attain his long-standing ambition. Nevertheless, with your genuinely loving eyes he found himself conflicted, and that showed in his facial expressions. His brow knit, and he parted his lips as if to speak before hesitating and closing them again. You sensed his inclination to make you feel miserable, to render you desolate, yet he could not muster the resolve to articulate such words. Thus, he remained silent.
While you, you stood perfectly still. Like a porcelain doll displayed as a mere decoration. You wanted nothing but to give him his manly satisfaction that night, hoping that your marriage could still work and that he would not need the betrothal of another lady to give him an heir. With delicate hands, you let the nightgown slip away, falling beneath your feet as the cold air caressed your naked form. This body. All of it belonged to him. “My lord.” You kept your eyes on him. And he, on your shapely bosom. “Please have me as you desire.”
Satoru’s eyes darkened as he stared at you, his voice taking a commanding tone to match his expression. “Turn around.”
You did as ordered. As obediently, as submissively. Like a servant serving her master. Yet, beneath this guise of obedience lay a deeper yearning—to vie for his love once more, and to affirm, if only for one last time, that his words this morning were but a fleeting outburst of heightened emotions.
“I have to admit you are quite beautiful,” whispered him. It is a shame that you are so useless in one aspect.
He walked behind you, enfolding you in his muscular arm, ensnaring you in his robust grasp as his fingers traced a path down your back. You could feel the contours of his toned abs pressed against your back, while he explored the dips and curves of your body with his touch, squeezing the soft mounds on your chest. He then leaned his forehead against your neck, trailing tender kisses along your spine, each one a testament to the intimacy shared between you.
The passionate night continued with the both of you taking turns in granting each other pleasure. The kisses around your neck, his tongue in between your folds, your hand wrapped around his well-endowed member. And before you know it, he was entering you from behind, penetrating the depths of your cavern in pursuit of reaching his high. His grasp on your hips tightened with each thrust, rendering your knees weak as you remained on all fours.
Your intimate session lasted for a while, as he was not satisfied enough at having only one release for the night. He jostled you from the back, to the side, and to the front. All of which left you with the warmth of his seed seeping out of your entrance, and subsequently down your thighs.
If only he did not let his mind speak, you could have deluded yourself that this night was his declaration of utmost love for you.
“You know that I will leave if you do not provide me with an heir soon, do you not?” Satoru did not sleep as he looked at you, his thoughts running rampant as he questioned whether or not he was being too cruel. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a second of your tears, tears that you so rightfully held back, and he was at a loss of words for once. He knew that he needed to stay firm on his decision, but seeing you on the verge of breaking down... it struck guilt in him. Satoru’s face softened, his tone becoming more calm and less forceful. Subconsciously did he do his best to comfort you. “I am not pleased that it has come to this. My words may be harsh at times, but you understand that I must fulfill my duties as emperor, do you not?”
You could not answer immediately and tried to bear the sting it brought to your heart. “How is it that you suddenly find it easy to cast me aside? Is there another lady on your mind?”
“That is not the case.” His guilt was knocking at the door, but he tried to ignore it. “This empire needs an heir, and you have failed me.”
“Perhaps blame the lack of children on yourself.” You bit back as your chest rose and fell from heavy breaths. “So seldom does my own husband grace my bed, as though I am unwed. Blame it, then, on the distance you have imposed upon us! A child cannot be born if we are not intimate.”
Satoru’s eyes narrowed at your words. “Are you suggesting we engage in intimate relations every minute and every second of the day?” A scoff escaped his lips. “I have given you eight years.”
“And yet, for eight years, you have not learned to love me.”
Your gaze remained fixed, each word hanging heavily in the air like a stormy cloud, with the weight of your shared history and unresolved emotions looming between the two of you in a thunderous confrontation. It was as though the very atmosphere crackled with tension, the silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires. What was his true and most honest intent in forsaking you?
Satoru sat by the edge, ultimately deciding to leave you with yet another night devoid of slumber, alone upon your chamber. “Love? That very love is what killed my sister.”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT III
A fair distance from the Gate of Saint Pellegrino, a homeless woman cradled a baby in her arms. Her other children darted about Saint Peter’s Square while she sang a hauntingly familiar lullaby to her infant—a melody too melancholic for a child, yet so fitting for the occasion. You recognized it as the song created by the Caelan citizens after the war ended. Her dulcet voice would rival the angels of the sky, and amidst the throng of people attempting to breach the ranks of the knights surrounding the Emperor and Empress, she stayed firm in her spot, her haunting hymn weaving through the atmosphere, while her storm-grey eyes bore into you with an eerie intensity to captivate you in a trance.
A rose will bloom, it then will fade
So does a youth, so does a fairest maid
Beneath the stars, they found their place,
In secret trysts, love's tender grace.
But lo, the fates their love did fray,
In bitter strife, they slipped away.
So hush, dear ones, and hear this lay,
Of love that wilted, night and day.
In whispered sighs, they bid goodbye,
Two souls in love, 'neath starry sky.
A decade had passed since the most scandalous demise of the Astheryn prince and the Caelum princess had occurred, where both lovers were discovered lifeless within the somber halls of the Sistine Chapel. Contrary to the common folk’s belief, they were not wed, nor did they meet their tragic end at Saint Peter’s, indeed, as their bodies were in fact found at the nearby Sistine Chapel. The Catholic church acknowledged this romantic tragedy as a conclusion to the long-standing feud between two noble empires, henceforth commemorating the young couple’s demise each passing year with a holy mass.
This year rendered particular significance as it marked the solemn tenth anniversary of their untimely departure. Perhaps, it may be the reason why your husband has been on edge as of late. Every year, his sister’s demise served as a brutal reminiscence for him—a grim reminder of his perished sister and the origin of his tyrannical reign. He bore witness to his parents’ handling of the conflict with Astheryn ten years ago, whereupon they callously demanded the common folk spill their blood in service to the imperial dynasty, igniting civil unrest in its wake. Such ruthless and cowardly deeds left an indelible mark upon him and brought him to the ultimatum of becoming a usurper. You vividly recalled the night he sought solace at your family’s estate, clad in battered armor from countless battles waged. That evening, he wept in your arms, confessing the death of his sister and his burning desire to exact vengeance upon those responsible for his loss. In exchange for marriage, you devised a scheme to orchestrate the coup that would once and for all elevate him to the imperial throne.
Despite the facade of peace ushered in by the treaty between him and the Astheryn Emperor, the truth remained stark: both empires were merely feigning reconciliation. They were only nominally “at peace”. A cold war, by all accounts, defined their true relationship.
The tension could be felt inside the basilica even from the moment you and your husband arrived in The Venera, a microstate on the borders of Astheryn and Caelum, in front of the men of both empires, as well as the members of the Holy Catholic Church. For many years, this sacred state remained a recognized territory of Caelum, despite its official designation as an independent ecclesiastical entity. The Gojou family were openly pious and deeply devout Catholics, while the Astherean citizens were predominantly Protestants. Not all members of the Zen’in clan practiced their empire’s predominant religion, and some suggested that Emperor Toji himself might be an atheist, albeit discreetly so. Rumors also circulated that the mother of the late Prince Megumi was herself a Catholic, which led to intense criticism regarding her marriage to a lineal heir of the imperial family.
Nevertheless, this stark religious divide lay at the heart of the perennial animosity between the two nations.
“Announcing Their Imperial Majesties, Emperor Satoru and Empress Y/N, the guiding stars of our empire, luminaries in the twilight of sovereignty.”
As you walked alongside Satoru, you noticed his usual bright blue eyes turning into a darker hue. His gaze fixated upon the altar, his countenance void of emotion, as you proceeded down the aisle by his side. Since that night, silence has permeated your interactions. And you still had no desire to engage him, especially if it meant enduring relentless pressure regarding an heir or the prospect of divorce.
Yet there, you carried yourself with an air of quiet strength and dignity—a gown of the deepest black with long sleeves ending in delicate cuffs, a silver cross hung by your chest with a gemstone made from blood red corundum, and a flowing black veil crafted from the finest lace, enveloping your head and cascading gently down your back, partially obscuring your features. The veil added an air of mystery and solemnity in your poise.
As for him, the Emperor was adorned in a doublet and hose ensemble, embellished with intricate brocade and tailored to fit his form exquisitely to accentuate his stature and regal bearing. Draped over his shoulders was a lavish cape of rich, dark velvet lined with ermine fur and fastened at the neck with a jeweled clasp bearing the insignia of his empire. Each fold billowed around him as he moved, creating a striking silhouette that commanded attention and respect.
No wonder the citizens of this empire were noticing your extravagance. And despised you for it.
Throughout the mass, Satoru remained stoic, seated alongside you at the forefront of the church, his demeanor suggesting that this day of remembrance was a torment to his very soul. Still, he listened, but you doubted he agreed while Pope Alexandre VI delivered a sermon on the importance of unity and peace among nations, condemning the advocates of warfare and citing the tragic fate of the late prince and princess as a poignant illustration of how the animosity between two empires exacts a toll through sacrifice. Prayers were also offered for the souls of the civilians and soldiers who perished during the war, drawing inspiration from the teachings of the Bible as the mass adhered to the customary order of the Liturgy of the Word and of the Eucharist.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,” you recited under your breath, genuflecting before the altar and offering prayers for the soul of your husband’s younger sister, beseeching that she find peace alongside her beloved under the guidance of the Holy Father. And as the mass drew to a close, you remained on your knees in prayer, the sound of approaching footsteps signaling the unwelcome arrival of an unexpected visitor—a presence that elicited a defensive reaction from your husband.
“Your Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Caelum.” It was none other than Duke Naoya of Astheryn, whose sarcastic presence seemed to have acted as a representative of their highest ruler. Emperor Toji’s absence to this occasion already constituted an affront to Satoru, and the pompous mien exhibited by the duke only intensified the indignation. A decade had passed since the death of Prince Megumi, and the prideful Astheryn Emperor still refrained from setting foot on Caelum’s soil to acknowledge the purported ‘peace’ between the empires. Even more, the subtle curve on Duke Naoya’s lips added an infantile insult to the already festering wound. “Accept my belated greetings. It took me but a moment to recognize you—rumors describe the Calean Emperor’s presence as imposing, yet reality often differs from reputation.”
You rose from the ground, poised to defend Satoru, but he raised a hand to forestall your intervention, maintaining his unruffled composure as he addressed the noble man’s jest. “Ah, well the Duke's wit is sharp as ever,” Satoru replied, his tone laced with equal sarcasm and earning the laugh of the surrounding nobles. “It appears that overseeing a mere duchy affords the Duke ample free time, unlike the responsibilities that come with ruling an empire, which he so covets.”
“Oh, certainly!” Duke Naoya spoke in Calean with a heavy accent, still unfazed as his eyes slowly drifted to you. “They pale in comparison to the burdens of ruling an empire. Yet, surely, it is not as burdensome without an heir.” His implication hung in the air, a pointed insinuation veiled in the guise of courtly banter.
Before the exchange could escalate into a diplomatic strain, Friar Mychal took it upon himself to intervene, exhaling a laugh of unease and positioning himself between the Emperor and the Duke. “Very well!” he exclaimed. “I have received word that those attending the mass will offer tributes for the basilica in remembrance of the tenth year since the passing of the Prince and the Princess. As a matter of fact, there are already numerous flowers adorning their statue that His Majesty Satoru has donated to the museum.”
The museum was just a short walk from the chapel and the space itself was adorned with ornate ceilings, frescoes, and architectural details that added to the grandeur of the surroundings. An array of sculptures lined the hall; of cherubs, saints, warriors, and mythological figures. One of the newer sculptures were of the Prince and the Princess, portraying young lovers in a tender embrace with the princely lad staring at his lady’s face. The sculpture was from a renowned Calean artist which Satoru himself hired out of the pure intention of donating it to the Veneran Museum. The nobles, members of the imperial court, and members of the church were all in awe after the sculpture was revealed to the attendees as such meticulous carvings and lifelike detail could only be done by Giancarlo di Firenze.
“A remarkable piece, indeed!”
“The detail is breathtaking!”
“To capture such emotion in stone… ‘tis as if they are whispering their love story to us.”
Your husband could not have been prouder. Alongside him, other nobles also contributed their offerings. Some notable ones included stained glass art, precious jewels, a pair of lovebirds, and… a particularly intriguing tapestry gifted by the Astheryn Empire.
The tapestry depicts the Astherean prince and the Calean princess lying together in death with the symbolic addition of a bloodied dagger laid atop the princess’ chest, representing the same weapon that Prince Megumi had used to end his life. The imagery not only insinuated that Satoru’s sister was responsible for the prince’s demise, but also served as an insult to the prevailing belief in her innocence surrounding her own tragic death.
“This…” Your mouth fell agape. You need not look into your husband’s visage to perceive his growing ire. “This is preposterous!”
The joy was evident in Duke Naoya’s eyes, yet he endeavored to feign ignorance. “Ah, before I forget, my noble cousin, the Emperor of the Astheryn Empire, sent an accompanying message addressed to His Majesty Satoru.”
In the threads of time, woven with the fabric of our shared tragedy, lies the essence of our 'peace'. As we gather to honor the memory of what once was, I send forth this tapestry, whereupon love and folly intertwine in an eternal dance. May it serve as a testament to the fragility of alliances forged in blood and ink, where shadows of deceit cloak the truth we dare not confront. While you sit upon your borrowed throne, may you find solace in the echoes of your usurped legacy.
With insincere regards,
Emperor Toji II of Astheryn
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT IV
“My liege, this is unacceptable! Astheryn is taunting us.”
An urgent assembly convened at the council chamber, where courtiers gathered to seek counsel from the emperor who was now seated in a position of humiliation following Astheryn’s brazen act of insult. You joined the court session in support of your husband, positioned at the throne beside him, while numerous men, each to their own titles and lordship, stood before you both. The courtiers' visages displayed incandescent umbrage as they protested and vehemently rejected the malignance from the rival empire in defense to the Emperor of Caelum. Yet the subject of the scrutiny himself remained staid and dignified.
“We cannot remain idle in the face of such an insult. If war is what they seek, then we shall grant it unto them!” exclaimed one of the members of the imperial court. A proponent of war he presented himself.
“Indeed, Your Majesty. To allow such an audacious act of disrespect would deem us cowards!” said another one of the men.
Satoru rested his arm on the armrest, a hand on his chin. He appeared to be lost in profound contemplation, yet you have grown long familiar with that expression of his to know that he was fueled with choler inside. “What is your opinion on this, Etienne? War is not a decision made lightly.”
Lord Etienne, as his name was called, spoke his opinion on the matter at hand and acted as an advocate for caution. “I agree, my lord. A hasty decision could plunge our empire into chaos and suffering. Perhaps, we can explore diplomatic channels first. War should be our last resort, not our first impulse.”
“Your Imperial Majesty!” Lord Armand countered. “With all due respect, your name has been besmirched! Is this not blasphemous to this empire and us, its men?”
“Our men are not prepared for war, Lord Etienne,” the previous noble claimed. “And how can we wage war with our forces against those of Astheryn's? Their military prowess is the mightiest throughout the central continent. They are barbaric folks, enemies to peace. We are nothing but simple foes to them..”
The belittling of Caelum’s military strength ignited your ire since that the training of soldiers, weapon crafting, and the establishment of the formidable imperial order of knights were specialties of your family—a legacy that your noble ancestors had established in this empire. It was why your family’s ties to the imperial Gojou family remained strong throughout the years. Therefore, hearing such remarks was derogatory to you.
You held your position and participated in the discussion. “Lord Etienne, do you speak so poorly of Caelum, your country, and speak so highly of Astheryn, your enemy?” For a moment, the court fell silent. “May God have mercy on you! Listen to his judgment. Is Caelum a joke to you? We have strengthened our military might since His Majesty’s ascent, and we are powerful enough to wage war against the entire world!”
“But Your Majesty—”
“Silence, all of you!” Satoru rose from his throne, exhaling in exasperation, and shot you a displeased look. His next words were sharp and his anger misdirected. “Empress, I appreciate your indignation, but this proves that women should not meddle in court sessions. Emotions depart from your mouth before logic enters your mind. You are dismissed from this session. Immediately.”
You could not fathom his sentences. For the longest time, never before had he dared to disrespect you in the presence of his subjects. Never had he dared to deny you of your rightful place as the empress of this nation, knowing full well the pivotal role you played in his ascension to the throne. Why, you could not speak! You were rendered speechless, too stunned to respond as you sank back into your seat, grappling with the sting of hurt and humiliation he had inflicted on you.
And somehow, Lord Maximillian’s eyes were uncharacteristically fixed on you as though they were in triumph at your situation. He did well enough to mask that with indifference withal. What was this hostility? Even the knights who approached you only had regard for the emperor, following his command of escorting you out of the council chamber despite your desire to stay seated. Yet to save face from this abomination, you did it upon yourself to stand up and leave at your own will.
“Nanami.” In your disappearance, Satoru spoke again, this time facing his subjects. “How do you propose we navigate this situation?”
Lord Nanami was more of the voice of reason, expressing his approach on the matter with neither bias towards engaging in or retreating from war. “My liege, I speak in your best interest. Let us convene with our allies, assess our military readiness, and explore all avenues for resolution. Only then shall we make an informed decision. It is most appropriate that we prepare ourselves against the enemy.”
Satoru already knew the answer before the man had spoken of it. Why so? Because it was the same route he would take. Only, it was his wounded pride and disdain towards his greatest adversary that landed him to a much more inhospitable decision. “Along with that blasphemous tapestry, written in his message, did that Emperor of Astheryn disparagingly refer to me as a usurper when I am the true born heir to the throne.” He ground out the words with clenched teeth as he stared at the portrait of his father. His hands balled into fists, his face hot and pinched with resentment. He detested being called a ‘usurper’ as he detested Astheryn and all of the Zen’ins. Regardless of the path he took to claim his throne, he was still a direct lineal heir to the Gojou bloodline. “I cannot let that pass. I cannot let his insult go unanswered. Hence, take down these words and address them to him, who is my enemy.” Satoru stared straight ahead, his face blank and emotionless as he spoke his next words in flawless Astherean language. “Emperor of Astheryn, your words are as venomous as they are misguided. While you revel in your petty insults and thinly veiled threats, know this: the patience of Caelum wears thin. Your tapestry of deceit and blasphemy shall find no place within the halls of our empire. Let it be known that the path you tread leads only to ruin and despair. Should you persist in your folly, Caelum shall meet your challenge with unwavering resolve. Consider this your final warning. The drums of war beat ever louder, and Caelum will not hesitate to answer the call. For this usurper you deride may stay true to that label when I seize your throne and make it mine.”
Following the court session, the emperor retreated to the training hall until late evening venting his wrath against the despot from the rival empire. He devoted hours in the hall, wielding his sword, sparring with the swordsmanship master, and decisively overpowering him to feel a sense of honor for himself. In his mind, each strike was a fierce expression of his imagination, envisioning what that battle would be like if it were Emperor Toji II in his stead. It would have been their second encounter in the battlefield as the first one ended in armistice for the sake of the prince and princess. This time, however, the execution of this battle would be markedly different.
Later that evening, he returned to his study, still in his armor as he met with his most loyal advisor. It was a private counsel to discuss matters unbeknownst to the rest of the empire—the prophecy and, notably, you.
“I fear this as I say this: the prophecy is upon you, my lord.” Lord Maximillian’s voice hinted at unease. His warning, spoken with a mood of paranoia. “The oracle’s riddles are coming to fruition, and this predicament with Astheryn is a clear example of that fact. War looms on the horizon, and it threatens to be your undoing. Now, more than ever, we need the support of another nation like Ellesmere.”
“I see that.” Satoru responded with a heavy exhale, tossing his metal helmet onto the carpeted floor. He made his way toward the expansive window and gazed out at the courtyard below. There, he spotted you, meandering the rose garden alone under the cover of night. You were brighter than the envious moon, coruscating like a fresh tulip amongst the field of wilted roses.
The lord cleared his throat and stood next to the emperor. “You must rid yourself of her, Your Majesty. If the prophecy has taught us anything, it is that the Empress serves as a harbinger of your downfall. The destruction of Caelum is inevitable if you retain her. Abandon all hope that she will bring you a child or luck. I acknowledge the attachment you have formed with her over the years, but she brings ill fate to all of us.”
You stopped at the fountain, seemingly lost in deep thought, and then began an expressive argument with yourself in your solemnity. The sight earned his smile. Satoru could not keep his eyes off you as if they were drawn by your beauty under the luminescence of the moon. How pitiful, truly, that your innocence left you no knowledge of the conversation he was having with his advisor.
“She shall be appointed as a concubine,” he declared, “Ridding of her is a waste; divorcing her offers a suitable solution. She may not have my heir, but she is a strong empress. A true villainess, yes. That, she may be, but she is devoted to me.”
“Which is precisely why you must dispose of her!” Lord Maximillian pressed onto the matter with greater seriousness. “My liege, it is anticipated that you will yearn for Empress Y/N’s loyalty even after your marriage with the Princess of Ellesmere. And her ferocious devotion could only hinder your plans and bring about your downfall. Who’s to say she will withstand the temptation to inflict harm upon the fair Princess Katarina out of jealousy? This, as you know, could turn Ellesmere against us!” His passionate speech then silenced him into a quiet plea. “Please, Your Majesty, consider it deeply. For the sake of this empire.”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT V
In the evening, at the hour of eleven did you find yourself wandering the garden. It had become more and more difficult to live each day, unable to grasp why your spouse had been hostile against you for reasons you could not justify. If it were matters concerning your apparent infertility, then he could easily get a concubine just as you had already permitted. All of Caelum’s nobility was well aware of your possessiveness towards him, yet it was you who proposed the idea of a concubine to him. Why, then, does he still entertain the idea of remarriage? Is it to guarantee that his heir will not be deemed a bastard? He possessed the authority to prevent such a label from being attached to the child.
“Oh, how cruel is this fate!” You paused by the fountain, observing your reflection in the glistening water. “You have given me a husband devoid of passion! Am I no longer beautiful? Have I lost my allure and youthful appearance? Has Cupid directed his arrow elsewhere? Oh, he must be insane!”
Tears welled up your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked into the mirrored reflection. You thought of Satoru’s hateful gaze when you closed your eyes and could feel the painful knots in your stomach. He had been nothing but a distant spouse for eight years in your marital union, and as unfortunate as you were, any improvements were farfetched. Every attempt at progress only fueled into a relationship filled with disagreements.
Your monologue resumed. “Could there be another woman? A maid, perhaps? One who sneaks into his bed at night while I sleep soundly. Shame on her! Fie, insolent wench! Or could it be a noblewoman he met at a ball, a coming-of-age ceremony, or anything of the sort? Vile, dishonorable harlot! I shall strip you of your noble status and exile you from Caelum!”
A sigh ended your ranting, leaving you with more tears to shed as you fondly remembered your youthful days of infatuation with him. He was the man you had dreamed of, yet now all he would do was to quarrel, and quarrel, and quarrel. You had become an enemy in his eyes. He may have drowned you with extravagant gifts and the rarest jewels throughout your marriage, but the one you most coveted—his love—was one he could not give.
“My lady?”
You turned around at the sound of the gentleman’s voice, whereupon a knight presented himself to you. No, not merely any other knight, but the Knight Commander of the Imperial Order of Knights. Sir Suguru, Caelum’s most prized possession, a power and battle-fit warrior, who could defeat a hundred armed men by himself alone. He was referred to as a hero by this empire’s people. His commitment to chivalry and service did not go unnoticed as your husband, the very emperor he served, had more than once awarded him for fostering high morale and esprit de corps among other knights.
“What brings you here, and why?” you asked, watching him curtsy before you as he did the standard imperial greetings. His silver suit of armor gleamed, reflecting the stars in the sky, while the black cloak enveloping him mirrored the void of the night. Truly, an intimidating presence for those that knew none of him.
However, his face was a stark difference from the aura he exuded. His eyes curved into crescent moons as he smiled, offering what appeared to be a handkerchief. “I am making my nightly rounds in the palace, and upon hearing Your Majesty’s distress, I had to come forth. Is everything alright, Empress?”
You sighed in lamentation and accepted the linen cloth from his hand. “To claim that everything is ‘alright’' is a wishful sentiment. The state of my marriage troubles me, yet I shall not burden you with such matters, for they are private.”
Suguru acquiesced to your words and nodded in respect toward you, still remaining by your side in silence. Like a personal guard stationed to protect you as it seemed he had no intention of leaving you alone in the courtyard.
“How dare you! Do you not care to leave a woman in peace?” you questioned, a moue forming on your face. The tears had long dried from your cheeks as you spoke to him. “I wish to be alone!”
It was already a rare sight to cross the Knight Commander’s path around the palace, given that his duties did not include serving as a personal guard to the emperor. He was typically present only during official or diplomatic gatherings, and rather trained and oversaw the elite group of guards that would protect the emperor and empress. Nevertheless, with what little interactions you had with him, Suguru had always conducted himself as a respectful and dutiful subject towards you.
“Forgive me. It is quite dangerous to be alone outside at night, Your Majesty. Your vulnerability may pose a risk to your safety.” He moved to unclasp his mantle, draping the large black cloak around your shoulders, a much smaller figure than himself. “And if you permit, the night is cold, and a lady must stay warm.”
There was a strange flutter in your heart as your wide eyes saw the gentility in his intentions. You could no longer question why dozens of noble women would line up to vie for his attention. His actions spoke better than his words ever could. How far, you wondered, would his kindness to you take him? “Are you not a bound subject to my husband?”
“Indeed, I am.” He stared ahead. “I have been his friend since our youth. However, it is with Your Majesty’s kin that I owe the honor of being a knight. It is with the support of your father, the Grand Duke, that I consider myself alive, standing here in this palace as the leader of all knights.”
Not once did you move your eyes away as you studied his sincerity. “Then, if I ask you to commit treason against the Emperor of Caelum,” you spoke with such regal power, “Shall I expect your commitment to me?”
For a while, Suguru did not speak. He appeared to be contemplating his answer as his stance had become defensive. Or hesitant, whichever fit. He did not meet your careful eyes, though he did look down and confess a knowledge that greatly devastated you. “The prophecy governs His Majesty’s attitude towards you. In the dungeon hides an oracle he visits every fortnight. I accompanied him during one of these visits, where the oracle predicted the need for an heir soon and told him that the failure to produce one may lead to his downfall at the hands of a woman not of royal blood. To my understanding, he interpreted her riddles as the need to execute you and wed another woman of true royal lineage. This truth solidifies my allegiance to you, Empress.”
Upon hearing Suguru’s words did your heart sink, and a wave of disbelief washed over you. It felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a state of shock, desperately trying to grasp the magnitude of what had just been revealed to you.
“Faugh! By’r Lady, that is a grave accusation!” Anger simmered beneath the surface of your composed exterior. You were livid at Suguru for being the bearer of such devastating news, for being the messenger of your potential downfall, and felt betrayed by your own husband, the Emperor, for keeping such a crucial prophecy hidden from you. You wondered why he had never shared this information with you, why he allowed you to live in ignorance while he made plans for your potential demise. But one thing for certain, was that this was the reason for his growing detachment toward you.
The knight could only provide you with a comforting bow. “I am afraid these words are true, my lady. Lord Maximilian conspires with him. Hurry to the dungeons and seek the oracle. She will reveal the truth to you.”
Beneath your anger lay a profound sadness, a heartache that cuts to the core of your being. The realization that your own husband, the man you loved and had pledged your life to, saw you as nothing more than a pawn in a game of power and succession. You felt a sense of profound loss, mourning not only the potential loss of your own life but also the loss of trust, of love, of the future you had envisioned.
Despite the tumult of emotions raging within you, you remained outwardly composed, your mask of regal poise firmly in place. You knew you must tread carefully, that showing weakness now would only play into the hands of those who seek your downfall.
And yet, the devil showed himself. You had been oblivious to your husband’s presence by the window of his study as he stood a great distance from you, watching you engage in an intimate conversation with his Knight Commander down below. He could not gauge where that sudden familiarity came from as he witnessed Suguru draping his cape around you—an action that crossed a territory he should not have sought. The emperor could no longer tolerate watching it, walking in haste along the halls of the palace until he eventually reached the courtyard. His gaze was burning into the back of Suguru’s head as he stopped behind you, waiting for you to notice your husband’s approach before he spoke.
“Empress.” His deep voice startled you.
Your eyes were clouded with resentment, hidden under the veil of a devoted wife. “My liege.”
Satoru stared at Suguru with a fierce look before turning to you. “It is dangerous to be out at this hour. I wish nothing untoward to happen to you, so I came here to ensure your safety.”
“I apologize, then, for causing you worry.” A bitter smile painted your lips and the tone of your voice suggested of feigned concern. “As you see, I have a knight here who is trained to guard and protect me.”
The emperor narrowed his eyes at the aforementioned knight, who elected silence out of deference to the reigning monarchs before him. This very knight was a childhood friend of his, but now Satoru regarded him as a rival, for all the peculiar reasons. “You may leave, Suguru,” he commanded, and yanked the cape from the empress’ body, then flung it toward the knight. “I will take my wife back.”
Satoru caught you sending an apologetic look toward the Knight Commander, which in return caused his ire to grow. What was the conversation you shared with him for you to act that way? In fact, he had never seen you pay another man that much attention. What a devious, little wench. A foxy, scheming jezebel. Satoru threw insults at you in his head as he took your arm in a tight grip, pulling you away from the courtyard. The silence between the two of you was thick with unspoken tension as he led you up the spiral staircase on the eastern side of the castle. His side of the castle.
“Darling.” Your endearment came out as a protest as you tried to pull your arm from his grip. “Unhand me.”
Still and all, he was silent as he dragged you along. It was only a short distance to his quarters, but he did not let go of you even once. You should see in his eyes that he was not amused by the friendly interaction between you and Suguru.
“I said release my hand, at this very instant!”
He remained like a taciturn man while ushering you into his quarters. Once he had locked the door behind him, he released his grip on your wrist and turned to confront you. His eyes grew dark and cold. A shade of blue that reminded you of lightning. “I would prefer it if he did not approach you when I am not present.”
“Ah, now you care!” Scoffing, you glared at him. “He simply offered his best to comfort me. Do not suspect it of anything else,” said you defensively, in a voice backed by your authority. Only now did he realize that the expression on your face had become austere.
“Even if that were true, I have no need for another man—especially a knight—to comfort my wife.”
“A wife? A wife you asked for divorce?” you mocked as his statement erupted a laughter out of you. A loud, boisterous laughter that screamed an insult to his face. “You see me as nothing but a bearer of children. Not as a wife or a person you treasure with your heart.” As you ridiculed him with a hint of humor on your face, your eyes had also grown deranged. “A mere pawn to your chessboard is what I am.”
Satoru was rigid in his stance. “I merely proposed divorce if you were unable to conceive. As emperor, it is my duty to father an heir. If the empress cannot fulfill that duty, I am compelled to find someone else who can—”
“An heir this, an heir that. Out upon it!” You expressed your frustration outwardly, throwing your hands into the air. “Go get yourself a concubine, then, and I will get myself a lover to even the score.”
A lover? Satoru was seething, yet his expression remained unchanged. He knew that you were taunting him, and still chose not to give you the reaction you wanted. “Then, I am sure you will have more success at producing heirs with your lover than you do with me.”
“Certainly!” you bit back, anger rising in each syllable. “In place of my husband, perhaps my lover can give me a child, proving to the whole empire that it is not I who is barren.”
Satoru’s eyebrows shot up in response to the blatant insult to his fertility. His cold eyes narrowed, the rage within him intensifying. “If you have a child with your lover, it will not discredit my fertility at all. It will instead bring into question my choice to have a child with a woman who is unable to be faithful to her husband.”
Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. “If you get yourself a concubine, then I will have my own lover. That or nothing at all.”
“Enough! I do not seek a concubine,” he raised his voice, a spasm of irritation crossing his face. “You are nothing but a maggot-pie, crawling in the dirt, serving no purpose for me! Ill-tempered shrew! I have said it many times, and I say it once more. In your failure to conceive, my intention is to remarry another lady and make her the empress, not a concubine! My heir must be legitimate. Stick that to your empty head!”
Satoru could feel the heat of your stare burning into him, but his mind had suddenly wandered back to the previous conversation, and he could not help but wonder whether you would actually have an affair with another man. The thought of it infuriated him, but he pushed it out of his mind as you stared at him in blazing fury.
“Must I remind you that it was I who assisted Your Majesty in ascending to the throne?” A warning shadow crossed your features. “I played a crucial role in staging a coup to overthrow your tyrant parents. If the princess had not perished, would you not be considered a madman? Now tell me, the only compensation I seek is your love, yet have you paid your dues?”
He scoffed at your words. You believe all you did in leading the rebellion was for the purpose of making him emperor? It was in your best interests to see yourself climb the ranks of an imperial power. And it was certainly not love you sought, but mere attention and validation. “My respect should be enough of a reward for you. I took you as my wife as a sign of my gratitude. Love was never a part of the deal.”
“Love is the very essence of that deal,” countered you. “You would be foolish not to think so.”
In his eyes, love and affection were something you should receive only when you deserve it, not when you demand it. In his mind, you had grown too familiar with him, too spoiled by his presence. It was time he corrected this. “You are mistaken to think that love is a condition of our relationship. I have never made promises of love or affection. I only promised you attention and the prestige of being an empress. Have I not fulfilled this promise and made you into an empress in every sense? Love is merely an illusion conjured in your imagination.”
“You are a tyrant through and through!” You pushed him away, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What devil are you, that you torment me like this? You miserable villain! Usurping knave! Betrayer of blood, who masquerades himself an emperor under a false sovereign! I placed you on that throne you so wistfully enjoy. Your power and authority hold no sway over me.”
The emperor’s jaw clenched tightly as his empress’ words cut through the air like a dagger. His pride was wounded by the venom of your words—words you had not carefully chosen, or perhaps did carefully choose, as you knew what words he despised hearing the most. His eyes flashed with jaundice as he fought to contain the roiling emotions churning within him. He wanted to lash out, to defend his honor and assert his authority, but he knew that such displays of weakness would only fuel the flames of dissent and discord.
Instead, he yanked your wrist again. “Do not forget your place, wife.” And then he grabbed your face with a rough hand, slamming you against the wall. “I may have promised not to take a concubine, but that privilege does not extend to your behavior.” The tightness of his grip caused your cheeks to ache slightly, and he showed no signs of letting go.
“And what will you do?” you spoke through gritted teeth.
“What will I do? I will remind you of your position, wife,” he continued to speak in a menacing tone, “But you may test my patience as much as you like. Go ahead and take a lover as you have claimed you would. Let us see how your arrogance holds up when I force you to bear his bastard child.”
You cussed him under your breath. “Is that jealousy?”
Yet, his countenance proved otherwise. “It is not. You see, I am not possessive of you. You can bear whomever’s child you wish. But you must be aware, that once that child is born, I would never claim my title as the father. It would be deemed a bastard, its blood impure and its existence an insult to my throne.”
“Do not lecture me on matters of infidelity when you are the one desperate to bed another woman.” You were bold enough to send him a look of disgust. “You are an emperor all due to me. Without me, you are nothing.”
In a fit of rage, Satoru exploded like a volcano spilling out its reservoir of hot, scorching lava. “You?! You think yourself the savior of this empire? Not by far!” There was a brief pause before he continued, eyes looking at you in unforgiving judgment. “I would have succeeded in leading the coup, even without you.”
A snort escaped your lips. “Delude yourself to that.”
“The guards are gone. You have no witnesses.” The warning he had issued was laden with the implication of impending punishment, fueled by your defiance and vitriol, driving him to a boiling point. He seized your wrist once more, his grip tighter than before, as he leaned in close and spoke into your ear. “I could hurt you right here and now if I wanted to, yet I show you mercy.”
“I need none of your mercy,” you spat, taken aback as he pushed you against the wall. You could feel his breath fanning your neck as he leaned closer, inches before your face.
Satoru’s laughter rang out as you persisted in your resistance, his eyes narrowing with a mix of intrigue and anger. Your defiance only served to stoke the flames of his wrath as he began to speak, “Darling,” and made a mockery of your endearment, “Perhaps I can ravish you until you are senseless.”
“Vainglorious dastard,” you spitefully replied.
He spoke no words for several moments, his breathing gradually intensifying as he gazed down at you like a toy he wanted to destroy. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he was weighing whether to persist or not, but eventually, he made his choice, his voice adopting a more ominous tone with each word. “I will destroy you.”
“S-Satoru!”
He pushed you towards his bed, and himself against you, pressing his body heavily atop yours. His breath became uneven with his anger overtaking his mind. Your whimper of fear filled him with sadistic satisfaction. “Yes, me, as you said. No one else is here with us, and no one would bat an eye if they heard a scream.”
Your decision to pull his hair proved to be a significant mistake, though it was evident from your expression that you derived pleasure from it. You longed for it. You desired this wanton affection. This carnal desire. Lust bathed in your eyes as you observed him hastily tear his clothing, eager to feel the velvety touch of your skin against his. He wasted no time in undressing you as well, ripping away whatever obstructed your bareness, leaving you both exposed under the moonlight, indulging in the passions shared between lovers.
“I despise you,” you declared, a hot moaning mess under him as he rammed his hardened shaft in between your legs where he himself was grunting at the pleasure of your tight entrance. In and out he went, and buried his face on your neck to leave purple marks all over your skin. “I-I despise you!”
“I share those sentiments,” he jested, squeezing your breast in labored breaths before he sucked the rounded mass in his mouth, earning your titillating moans.
By the end of your long passionate exchange, he lay next to you, body soaked in sweat as he watched your sleeping face. The peace in those saintly features. Did you pass out? He could not be certain. Was he too rough? That, he was certain. It showed on the bruises that mapped parts of your body. He could feel a small tinge of guilt within him as he moved to pull the blanket over you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.
“Is this not love?” He opened his eyes when heard you laughing softly, eyes still shut but with a bitter smile spreading on your face. In a cold tone of voice, you whispered, “Your love is tough, yet love nonetheless.”
He knew it was not love, yet even if it was, you would soon be taken care of anyway. You would be exiled or worse, executed, should you fail to heed his warnings. He had to put his ambitions first and foremost before any form of affection he had of you. And if you truly, unconditionally loved him, you would understand why.
That, that was how he defined love to be.
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ACT VI
The castle’s dungeon was an… unsightly place. Aside from the centuries of brutal torture and grotesque deaths that occurred down under, it also housed the memory of Satoru shedding his hands on his kinsmen’s blood. That was the place where he had slain his father, his rotting head still mounted on the wall as though he was an animal that his son had hunted. A tyrant, undoubtedly. Satoru’s penchant for brutality knew no bounds, but he certainly got it from his father. While you were responsible for the death of a little over a hundred people, his would account for more than thrice that number.
As you descended further into the depths of the dungeon, the air grew heavy with the miasma of damp stone, blood, and decay. A putrid, sickening odor greeted your nose the more you entered. If not for the torches that flickered dimly along the walls, you would not be able to see at all, yet those torches casted eerie shadows that danced and swayed with each step you took. It was a frightening sight and definitely not for the faint hearted.
“Help!” Your senses were assailed by the sights and sounds of the dungeon's grim inhabitants as you ventured deeper into the labyrinthine corridors. Gaunt specters lurked in the shadows, their hollow eyes gleaming with a sinister light as they whispered chilling secrets to one another in sotto voce. Some also cried of agony and despair, some had already fallen unhinged from being held in captivity for so long—it became a cacophony of anguished cries and tortured souls. “Help me, Empress! I beg my innocence!”
“Step back, Your Majesty.” Suguru, who acted as your companion in this macabre trip, unsheathed his sword to protect you from being touched by the prisoners. He threatened to slash their hands with just a simple touch on your dress.
“Empress! Empress!”
You deemed it wise to pull the hood of the cloak over your face, especially as the prisoners were starting to recognize you within these cursed confines. It would be troublesome if Satoru were to arrive soon and they began to scream your name in his presence.
“Empress, this dungeon is meant for souls as tainted as yours!”
That statement proved itself to be spine-chilling and hair-raising, as such accusations could not be denied. Truthfully, your crimes far surpassed theirs. You belonged with the forsaken and the damned. You already accepted that all your sins and trespasses would bring you nowhere near heaven, yet you had blindly murdered people out of love for Satoru. That was how crazy you were at winning him over. And now, this is where it brought you.
But you pressed on and continued traipsing through the dungeon until you could feel the presence of the oracle drawing closer, a beacon of hope amidst the despair that gripped the dungeon like a vice.
Finally, you reached the chamber where the oracle awaited. It was a figure cloaked in shadow at the far end of the room. And upon adjusting your visions, you could see that the oracle was an old woman, her white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around her frail shoulders. Her skin, alabaster. Her eyes, ghoulish and devoid of color, and they seemed to pierce the veil of reality itself as she spoke in riddles and whispers that sent shivers down your spine. It was your first time to encounter such an unrealistic being. They said each word from the oracle dripped with the weight of centuries of wisdom and foreboding. She spoke of prophecies and portents, of trials and tribulations yet to come, her words weaving a tapestry of fate and destiny that hung heavy in the air like a shroud.
“Speak.” You stopped at her chamber, demanding to hear the prophecy she had said to your husband. “Tell me the Emperor’s prophecy.”
Much to your ire, she gave you no response, still staring at the empty wall.
“Speak!” Your patience was growing thin as each passing second would crumble any hope you had inside that Satoru was not a man who would forsake you, or even execute you, in exchange for his ambitions. But it had been twenty or so minutes and still there was no word from the oracle. “Do you not possess a voice? Are you not a fortune-teller?”
Suguru sucked in a deep breath. Should his accusations of the emperor prove to be a lie, you swore to yourself that you would be the one to put him inside one of the iron maidens in the dungeon. Or that daunting Judas cradle if he preferred. “Your Majesty, it takes time to make her speak.”
“I do not have that luxury of time! I cannot be seen here.” You gave him a menacing stare. “At the risk of your own life, Sir Knight, if this turns out to be nothing but foolishness, I will personally disembowel you—”
“Beware! O Empress, keeper of fragile dreams!”
The sudden burst of the oracle’s voice startled you, as they were far from what you had expected from an old lady. It carried an otherworldly quality that seemed to transcend her physical form. They were melodic and haunting, a chilling quality that hinted at the supernatural origins of her prophetic abilities. It was as though you were paralyzed by the time she spoke, like all your senses stopped working and all you could ever do was be forced to listen to her prophecy.
“For the Emperor's gaze wanders far,
As he seeks a lady of royal blood,
Ambition cloaked in the guise of lineage,
And in his thirst for power, lies your peril.”
As you listened, your heart bled terribly, knowing that the answers you sought lay buried within the enigmatic riddles of the oracle’s words. The haunting words of the prophecy echoed through the dim chamber where you stood frozen, in a state of despair and disbelief and every awful thing in the world combined. The truth, once a lurking suspicion, now materialized before you and it left your heart in shattered pieces because you actually hoped that none of the accusations were true. So, how could Satoru do this to you? How could he betray you after all your sacrifices just to be his wife, your efforts just to receive his love, and your crimes just to satisfy his desires? Through your hands, more than a hundred souls had perished. You had shed the blood of many Christian souls for him. You had offered him your chastity and turned back on your reverence by profaning the word of God. You had worshiped him like a divine being. Yet so easily would he cast you away. No, he could not even offer the slightest pleasure of loving you genuinely, without any inhibitions, without anything in exchange.
While your sacrifices were his definition of the “greater good”, his betrayal against you was his definition of a “lesser evil”. It was his “personal gain”, for your demise would have no profound repercussions on this empire.
Undoubtedly, that must be his truest and utmost feelings for you.
Suguru held you in his arms when you fell to the ground, your entire world crashing before you as the oracle revealed your husband’s plans. Your hands were shaking, trembling. You had trouble breathing. He was there to guide you out of the dungeon safely, even if you were to run and weep like a madwoman. But of course, you were not that insane yet. It was simply the ache in your heart that catapulted you into an abyss of pain.
Satoru must not succeed in his plans. He must not come out victorious. The greatest revenge you could think of was brimming in the back of your mind, ignited by the visible spite you felt for him and his web of deceit.
And back alone in your bedchambers, nausea overcame you and had you vomiting all over the floor. You retched the harrowing experience at the dungeons, disgusted by things you saw and heard, especially the treachery of your very husband. You were sick at the thought of him planning your assassination behind your back, like an ungrateful imbecile who only cared about himself and his vainglory.
“Nurse!” you called, coughing out the foul taste of bile expelled from your throat. “Come here!”
“Coming, madam!” Geneva came to your aid as soon as you summoned her and tended to your needs immediately. At the time, you could not make out much of the clatter that was happening inside your chambers as you lay in bed with your eyes shut. It seemed that Geneva had ordered the other servants to clean out the mess you had created, while she took over in putting you to bed and making sure that you were warm and comfortable. She had no single idea about what was going through your mind, and had she had any hint about what it was, you could only imagine how bloody traumatized she would be.
If Satoru wanted to dethrone and destroy you, then you might as well help him with it. He should no longer be surprised to see what good of a show you could offer for everyone in this empire.
“Good madam,” Geneva called gently, after an hour or so, pulling you out of trance. “A physician is already—”
You lifted a hand, stopping her while you tried to get out of bed. “That won’t be necessary.” Despite your queasiness, you had decided that there was no time to waste for this war of love and death against your husband. The sooner you planned things out, the greater your advantage would be. You had to have the upperhand in this. “Nurse, where did my husband go?”
The nurse guided you up and draped a lightweight shawl around your shoulders. “I believe His Majesty is conducting a military inspection. He is accompanied by about ten knights.”
An inspection? It must be related to the discussion at the imperial court. Of course, if Satoru was planning to wage war against Astheryn, he had to review the troops stationed in different regions of the empire to assess readiness, morale, and preparedness for defense. He could deploy an initial 25,000 men in his heavy infantry should he find the need to go on an all-out war with the enemy, but those amount of soldiers would require the emperor himself to arduously test if they were ready for battle. Naturally, the inspection could last four or five days depending on his assessment. And in his absence in the palace, either the empress or the other trusted advisors would usually take on the duties that usually were his.
This was the perfect opportunity to devise your plan; to prune the branches, weaken the trunk, and uproot the tree entirely. The branches began with his loyal advisors, which have already been filtered out as those previously appointed by his parents became his enemies. Enemies that died by his hands and yours, because those enemies were advisors who did not support Satoru in his method of seizing the highest throne, so he could not risk having rebels in the empire who would later work together to topple him from his seat. When he first rose to the throne, he had several assassination attempts aimed at him, typically by means of poisoning his food with arsenic, or hiring highly skilled mercenaries to slay him behind his back—all of those attempts were intercepted by you. And at the elimination of those disloyal to him, Satoru assumed that the current members of the imperial court could hence be trusted since they had not shown any hints of falsity for the ten years they had served him.
The difference between you and Satoru was that he was easily beguiled because the noblemen treated him a lot differently than you. They were ass-lickers, trying to win him over for their own superficial benefits, while you knew who among them were simply supporting Satoru for the sake of not being executed. Out of fear, out of an inherent will to live, out of an obvious lack of choice—there was one noble who stood out among the rest.
And it was the one whose presence was not the loudest.
“Lord Nanami.” Upon mentioning his name, you entered the palace library—a grandeur chamber notable for its high ceilings, expansive oak shelves, and accoutrements—as he stood in front of a wood table, strangely interested in codices. “Nice to see you.”
The blond nobleman curtsied. “Your Imperial Majesty, it is an honor to be in your presence.”
You gestured your hand into dismissing him, cutting to the chase because you were still unwell. And for all the necessary reasons, you had to have this conversation with him or else there would not be an easier opportunity with Satoru’s eyes and ears around the palace. Nanami was his most trusted advisor, not Maximilian as much as he fooled himself to think so. “What is that codex you are reading?”
Nanami spoke cautiously, his eyes fixed on the codex. “Of some medical writings and scientific treatises. Rumors are circulating about a mysterious outbreak in a remote village in Constantia, a city within the grand duchy of Valoria. It seems to be an illness that is spreading rapidly with only a 2% chance of survival. I hear they are calling it the ‘Black Death’ due to the appearance of gangrene. Considering the trade routes, that city lies along the Veridian Sea, which is a path taken by the ship that trades metals and minerals with us. They engage in that route due to Constantia’s involvement with the slave trade, boarding the ship bound for Caelum for the metals and minerals, while ferrying their slaves all the way to Astheryn, their largest buyer.”
As if the gods were with you!
The topic pulled your sudden interest, for it was proving to be exactly what you needed for your plan to be successful. “An illness, you say? What records do we have about its origin?”
“Valorians perceive it as divine punishment for their involvement in the slave trade. Another prevalent theory is the miasma it brings, attributing the disease to foul odors and noxious fumes in the air and in the environment in which they live. Personally, I suspect it originates from a bacterium resulting from interactions between humans and infected animals.” Despite lacking sufficient research to support his hypothesis, you acknowledged that Nanami’s personal theory seemed more plausible. “The symptoms suggest to me that it is not airborne, contrary to what most people assume.”
You kept your eyes on him as he fixed his pince-nez. “What symptoms does it have? And what conclusion do they have there on what they are?”
“Your Majesty, a swarm of dead rats were found in Constantia a month ago,” he first informed, leading you to his suspicions. “Given the escalating tension with Astheryn and our increased need for metal to support our crafting and weaponry, I bade a dispatcher to send a message to Constantia due to their failure to supply us with the agreed-upon metal,” Nanami explained, showing a haze of regret behind in his eyes. “The dispatcher wrote back to me, stating that he is unable to return to Caelum promptly as he was experiencing chills, buboes, and gangrene. I presume he perished within days of arriving there.”
The moue you displayed on your face could not be stopped. “Does His Majesty know of these rumors in Valoria that you speak of?”
“His Majesty, the Emperor, has not yet been informed of the matter.” The blond nobleman looked at you solemnly. “It is my duty to inform him as soon as he returns from his—”
“No, you are not going to do so,” you commanded sternly, surprising him in turn. “You will not breathe a word of this to Satoru. Follow my orders, and you shall be duly rewarded.”
This was good. This was perfect for your plans! If it was true that such illness was spreading in Valoria, it would only be a matter of time until the plague reached Caelum and wiped half its population. You laughed heartily inside your head. It would be an utmost entertainment for you to watch Satoru’s downfall before your very eyes. If Astheryn was no threat to him, then biological warfare would certainly destroy him. No one else had to know of your schemes but you.
Of course, the ever-so-noble Nanami was not easy to convince, especially if it was a clash between his duty and morality. “Empress, I struggle to understand… Such matters could pose dangers to Caelum and its lands. His Majesty needs to be informed, as he possesses the authority to prevent the trade ship from reaching us. Astheryn had already long ceased their slave trading because of it. We must do the same.”
“And do you believe I lack the authority to issue commands as an empress?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and his stance became more apologetic. “Proceed with the trade by any means necessary. I will sign the permit, and the ship shall arrive as planned next Monday. Let us not allow rumors of illness to hinder us from obtaining the necessary metal from the city of Constantia. As you said, we require ample supplies for our weaponry. We must seize this opportunity to bolster our arms. Do not mention this to His Majesty, and if you dare, you shall face the punishment of having your tongue cut out.”
Nanami’s eyes widened. “But Your Majesty…”
You pressed your hand firmly against the table and asserted your authority over him. “I have control over a couple of remote islands near the outskirts of Caelum. Surely, you are familiar with them? I will direct my father, the Grand Duke, to transfer one of the larger estates to you. Furthermore, I shall offer you a quarter of my jewels and 15000 celestas as a deposit. In return, I request that you retire from your position and refrain from conversing with my husband ever again.”
It was a fair bargain. The man was certainly considering that because not only would he secure his own land and riches, he would also be away from the dangers of the plague should it truly spread throughout Caelum and its nearby nations. He would be safe there in his own estate with enough money to retire early. “Empress… whatever it may be that you are planning, this is treason.”
“This or punishment is your only option,” you declared, eyes burning with fire. “Choose wisely.”
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ACT VII
The preparation for the New Year’s ball was arduous, and you spared no effort to ensure that every detail lived up to Caelum’s prestige. Because you had a generous budget allocation for this year's banquet, you did not hold back on the display of wealth, power, and culinary sophistication. The menu alone boasted elaborate roast meats, poultry dishes, pies, pastries, desserts, and confections, accompanied by a variety of wines and spirits to enhance the indulgent dining experience. More so, the smell of luxurious dishes inside the grand hall would be enough to water the mouths of the guests.
Invitations were extended not only to the nobility within the capital but also throughout the empire, welcoming all to partake in the feast as long as they came from noble houses. The theme, as initially requested by your husband, was black and silver to match the regalia, although this theme did not extend to the guests. They were free to choose their attire as they pleased, with the only restriction being to avoid the loud colors that represented Astheryn.
It was well-known that Caelum’s nobility enjoyed flaunting their wealth and status among themselves, further highlighting the perception of the empire as superficial and governed by leaders who indulged in unethical opulence. While you may have denied such rumors, the truth remained: such ostentatious display of wealth was a century-long tradition upheld by the Gojou family to showcase the Caelum Empire as the wealthiest and most powerful across the central continent. If there was anyone Satoru should blame for this excessive extravagance, it should be his ancestors. Not you.
As the empress of this nation and the person who oversaw these types of celebrations, you saw it fit to wear an elegant gown befitting your status. You were dressed in a majestic gown of midnight black velvet, intricately embroidered with religious motifs and adorned with pearls and jewels that glimmered in the candlelight. A towering headpiece, resplendent with silver filigree and bedight with twisted crosses and angelic figures, rested upon your head as a symbol of your pretentious reverence for the church. You moved through the banquet hall with regal grace and elegance, a vision of piety and power, with your outward display of devotion masking the darkness of your thoughts inside.
Next to you was your tyrant husband, whose attire was an obsidian velvet of the finest kind. Around his waist was a thick belt of black leather cinching the robe, its buckle emblazoned with the imperial insignia. His chest was bedecked with a chainmail hauberk, a display to his martial prowess and readiness for battle, while a silver mantle was draped over his shoulders, adding to his imposing presence. Upon his head sat a crown of gleaming silver encrusted with onyx and obsidian stones.
“Long live the Emperor and the Empress! May Their Majesties reign be blessed!”
Upon your entrance down the staircase to the Grand Hall, the guests offered their curtsies and salutations to you and your husband to show their deference and recognition to the imperialty. The nobles had their chance at a brief greeting with the imperial family based on their ranking, although Satoru showed little to no care for those at the lower ranks. Nonetheless, those of lower statuses devotedly sought to curry his favor and prove their allegiance to him.
He is nothing but a fool, you thought inwardly as you watched your husband dismiss a mere count. Satoru must not have realized that those he considered of lower ranking were often the most loyal to him. They were driven by their wish to climb the upper echelon of high society, therefore, they would go to great lengths to gain recognition from the emperor. Conversely, if push comes to shove, those of higher statuses would be the first ones to turn their backs on the imperial family, as they already possessed the wealth and status to sustain their own estates and exclude themselves from the rest of the empire.
“Lords and Ladies, esteemed guests, and subjects of my realm,” Satoru spoke with gracious authority as he stood by his throne, looking down on the nobility before him, “I stand before you on this very occasion, the commencement of a new year, to address the empire that rests beneath my unwavering rule. As your Emperor, I look upon the vast land that stretches beneath me, and aim to build great cities, forge mighty alliances, and expand our dominion to the farthest reaches of the known world. Tonight, we gather not merely to celebrate the turning of the calendar, but to reaffirm the absolute authority that guides our great empire.
Let it be known, plainly and honorably, that the prosperity of this realm is intrinsically tied to the strength of its ruler. In my hands, I hold the reins of power, and I shall steer this ship through tumultuous waters with an unshakable resolve. Those who seek to challenge the stability of our empire will find themselves met with the full force of imperial might.
Let this banquet serve as a reminder—a celebration of the empire’s indomitable strength and an acknowledgment of the consequences that befall those who dare to defy it. Raise your goblets high, my loyal subjects, for we embark upon another year under the banner of unassailable authority.”
Satoru might be a terrible spouse, but he certainly was not a terrible emperor. He asserted his authority when it demanded him the most, and he knew well enough how to make his subjects cower in terror at every word he spoke. His speech was a simple warning not only to the nobles, but perhaps also to you, as he believed the prophecy pictured you as a traitor to his reign.
Initially, you could say he was wrong and that never in a million years would you betray the same person you helped ascend the throne. But now that his resolve was to entirely eliminate you in order to succeed in his ambitions, you would not deny such grave accusations of treason on your part. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. It was only too bad for him that he had no knowledge of what you knew, and that was exactly why you were ten steps ahead of him.
The sound of classical music served as a backdrop for the banquet, with the dulcet sounds of flutes, harps, and viols creating an elegant ambiance through the hall. The nobles worked on their usual slobber and socialization, usually reserved for recently debuted ladies to mark their own impressions within high society. The males were often there to discuss lands and politics or to be in search of their bride who would become the next noble ladies of their respective houses. The scene reminded you of your happy days as a once noble lady, a daughter of a duke, who was also the most popular and most eligible bride for Crown Prince Satoru among all of the nobility within the Caelum Empire. Back then, your biggest rivals were Lady Anastasia de Florentine and Lady Serena de Visconti. Both ladies came from esteemed houses and had therefore become a threat to your desire to be Crown Princess. In terms of beauty, talent, and elegance; they were definitely strong contenders. What they lacked was the wit, the cunningness in which you pride yourself with, as you ended up becoming Satoru’s choice as his empress.
You were aware that Satoru spent his years as a prince dallying with other noble ladies, even courtesans, as he himself was fair in the face. And he was aware that the ill-fate that had befallen some of those ladies were due to your own cruel doing. You tormented any lady that vied for his attention. It was not until he gave in and got to know what you offered did he stop fooling around with random whores, deeming them unworthy to stand next to him as they served no purpose for him in the long run. You offered a better role to him than the rest of them, especially with your skill as a tactician and your family’s background in the military and weaponry department, which all came in handy at the time of his usurpation to the throne.
In other words, he knew how evil you could be from day one. And benefited from you because of it.
“What troubles you?” he asked, holding your waist and your hand as you both gracefully danced in pavane. His hair was neatly brushed away from his forehead tonight, with a few stubborn strands dangling on the side. “You are unusually quiet.”
You stared at his bright blue eyes coruscating under the chandeliers, noticing how his gaze wandered to a noble lady. “It is of no concern to you.”
Satoru then narrowed his eyes at your coldness. “It concerns me greatly. What foolish game are you playing?”
“A foolish act of playing the role of your wife,” you replied, brief and stern. “Does this banquet please you? I have invited the empire’s most beautiful and eligible ladies to be your concubines. All of noble birth and of age, so fret not. You may choose anyone to your liking. May the best suit you.”
The offense you caused was evident in his visage. As much as it entertained you, he was clearly enraged and on the verge of losing it. You already knew he would just remind you yet again that he wanted to remarry instead of getting a concubine, but it was too good of a reaction to pass up on. In fact, he stared at you blankly, speechless for a few moments as he processed the implications of your words. “This is the game you play?” he murmurs through gritted teeth, a hint of a scowl forming on his face. Conflicting emotions surged within him, a mixture of anger and hurt, yet ultimately he chose not to give you the reaction you seemed to seek. “I will humor you. Where are these concubines you speak of?”
You scoffed, and then laughed out loud to the point where it gained the curious stares of the nobles. “Search everywhere, and perhaps your eager eyes may find them,” you replied with absolute delight. “But that is all they shall be—mere concubines. If you prefer someone younger than me and a virgin, that is also possible—”
“Do not get smart with me,” Satoru warned, grabbing a tight hold of your chin. The muscles along his jaw tensed. “You are but a petulant wench, a mere ornament beside my throne, lacking the wit and wisdom to grasp the gravity of imperial decree. The issue of remarriage is not a subject for jest. Know your place, woman, and consider the consequences of your impudence.”
“Is that a threat?” You returned his glare, now feeling all eyes on the both of you. The thick air of tension permeated the hall like a cloud of incoming thunderstorm.
The emperor was not one to show weakness in front of public eyes, now displaying an authoritarian mien to his wife as he tightened his hold on your jaw. “Take it as you may.”
In defense to your wounded pride, you shoved his hand away and maintained a rigid poise. “Keep your filthy hands off me, you usurping tyrant.”
As tension crackled through the hall, a hushed unease descended upon the assembled guests. Murmurs rippled through the crowd like a gathering tornado, and uneasy glances were darted between the nobles and servants as they witnessed the brewing disagreements of their imperial rulers. Some averted their gaze, feigning disinterest, while others leaned in with rapt attention, hungry for the spectacle unfolding before them.
Meanwhile, Satoru was forcing a laugh at your chosen insult. Calling him a usurper really hit a nerve, as always. “Watch that foul-tongued mouth,” he warned once more, “Barren wretch!”
Approaching one of the palace sentinels halfway across the hall, you countered your husband’s heavy footsteps by drawing out a sword from a knight’s scabbard, thereupon making a swift turn to point the silver brand directly at his throat. You had not even realized that it was Suguru’s sword that you took. Deadly silence instantly spanned the hallway, and even the tick tock of the nearby clock had stopped because of the rising tension between Caleum’s reigning monarchs.
But with one sword raised at the emperor’s neck, twenty more were directed back at the empress. Satoru’s loyal knights were quick to trap you in full circle to protect their sovereign ruler, forcing you to submit and restrain yourself from moving the sword any closer to the emperor’s throat.
Unfortunately for him, being submissive was no longer in your repertoire.
“You dare commit treason in my own palace?!” Your husband’s venomous blue eyes bore holes into your skull—his mouth thinning in displeasure as you stayed unwavered by his imperious tone. “You are too brave for an empress consort!”
“That is rich coming from a usurper himself!” you countered, satisfied by the spasm of irritation crossing his face. “Have as many concubines and courtesans as you wish, but never disrespect me in front of my people. Do not treat me as if I am lower than a mistress simply because I have not borne you a child. Do not dare to look down upon me, for I am an empress first, before I am your wife.”
What kind of psychopath was that man, truly?
You left the hall as soon as you said those prideful words, no longer wishing to hear what more intelligible things he had to say to you and of the preposterous scene in which you engaged. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much you had come to despise every fiber of his being. He was an ungrateful imbecile who would slay his own kin at the price of his ambitions. You may have started the quarrel, but he did not need to escalate it and put his filthy blood-stained hands on you in front of the nobles. His goal might be to put you in your rightful place. However, he chose the wrong person to be his empress. That choice alone was the start of his tragic flaw.
And with that disrespect would soon come his downfall.
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ACT VIII
Satoru struggled to comprehend the shift in your demeanor toward him and the words you chose to speak to him. He found your behavior baffling, as if you had lost touch with reason to be acting such a lunatic. You were out of your bloody mind! What could have driven you to act so irrationally, becoming incensed at every little remark he made? Was it solely because he expressed a desire to remarry for the sake of an heir and requested you to step down from your throne? No, your anger seemed to stem from deeper roots than mere marital disagreements. The hostility in your eyes said so, and it was the kind that mirrored the animosity he had witnessed in his ancestors towards their rival empire. That was the level of rancor you had of him.
Or could this be the dreaded prophecy coming to life?
Maximilian had been warning him that the prophecy was becoming truer day-by-day, and that the only way to ultimately prevent it was to banish you. It should be easy, truly, since Satoru had no problems slaying his own kin and hundreds of men. Why should another soul like yours cause such an impact on him?
Yet, Satoru found himself unable to take that step. The reasons eluded him. What he despised, however, was your increasing defiance. You were no longer the submissive wife he had grown accustomed to. Albeit your inherently strong personality, you had never before lashed out at him, insulted him, raised your voice, or shown him any form of antagonism. You always let him win arguments and understand your place. Extravagant gifts like luxurious silk dresses, rare jewels, and exotic fragrances used to be enough to maintain your compliance. Were his gifts no longer sufficient to appease you? What more did you desire from him?
Love?
How preposterous. Love was no gift.
The emperor cussed under his breath as he slid the robe off his shoulder and stepped inside the tub, soaking his naked body under the warm fragrant water. He raked his fingers through his wet, white hair, leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling. It never occurred to him that his eyebrows had furrowed as his thoughts of you had consumed him. A small part of him yearned to punish you for your recent behavior, while a larger part of him longed to pursue you. He desired to regain your trust and devotion, no matter how absurd it might seem to others. How else could he manipulate someone who harbored such animosity towards him? You had been easier to control when you saw him past his selfishness, turning a blind eye as long as he played the role of the loyal husband.
Fine, if it was disloyalty that enraged you so, then he would show you. In another way. That the loyalty you seek still possessed him somewhere.
The subject of his plan stood in his privy chamber, assisting him as he bathed that morning. He had long noticed this particular servant’s subtle attempts at seducing him, but had always chosen to ignore her as he never felt tempted to indulge. Instead, he found it somewhat amusing that she would willingly display her body to him in private settings like this. Perhaps, he mused, it was a message to him, indicating her desire to ascend to high society by becoming his concubine. She likely sought to escape her life as a mere peasant and elevate herself to the status of a noble lady. She may have even heard of his sexual escapades back then as a wayward prince who entertained different ladies in his chamber before he married you. That was probably why she wanted to take advantage of the carnal weakness that she thought still lingered within him.
This strumpet. Satoru scoffed inwardly as he watched his personal maid pick up the bottle of lavender oil from the floor. She had purposely unbuttoned the top most part of her attire so that her voluptuous breasts would pop out like two balloons sitting on her chests. Appearance wise, it was clear that she had tried to put on cheap rouge from vermillion or beetroot juice, tinting her lips a brighter red than usual to complement her fiery, ginger hair. Her eyes were lined sharp from the soot, as though she was trying to resemble the empress’ seductive eyes.
“Your Majesty,” she spoke in a seductive voice, finding her seat at the edge of the tub as she poured the fragrant oil on the hot water. She raised her skirt higher as an obvious attempt to show off her legs, and offered a better view of her huge breasts as she leaned forward. Now that she was closer to him, he could see her taut nipples peeking behind her thin layer of clothing. “Do you wish for me to bathe you?”
His lips may have curled upwards into a smirk, but his eyes were as terrifyingly sharp as ever. “Do you want to die?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, feigning her innocence as she received his warning. “No, Your Majesty! I do not wish so.”
“Why do you presume your body to be more desirable than the empress’s?” he challenged, aiming to deflate her pride and turn her foolishness to his advantage. She would serve as the perfect pawn to regain his wife’s favor. “My wife has the most flawless figure I have seen in a woman, and yours is what? Do you boast of your breasts that resemble a cow’s?”
“I…” The servant stammered, clearly offended as she got up from her seat and attempted to mask the embarrassment that appeared on her face. Satoru raised an eyebrow and waited for her response, while she gathered her courage to deny his claims. “Forgive me, my lord, if I have offended you.”
Satoru shook his head in amusement. “What is your aim, then, if not to manipulate me into bedding you? I do not associate with trollops.”
Caught red-handed, she stumbled and bowed her head at the lowest possible level before him. “I beg your pardon, Your Imperial Majesty! I merely sought to assist you in the birthing of an heir. I am not barren like Her Majesty the Empress, and I can assure you I will bear fruit even if you only do me once.”
“Get on your knees,” he ordered, stepping out of the tub and wrapping his bare body with a robe. “Are you certain of that?”
Her eyes pleaded for desperation to become his mistress. “Certain, yes! I am certain, my lord! And I will be a loyal subject to you unlike the empress—”
“Pardon?” As if her words intrigued his ears. In a swift motion, he turned to the servant and looked down at her with his cold, scrutinizing eyes. “Unlike the empress? Repeat your words with caution. You are maligning the most noble woman of this empire.”
It did look like she found her way out of his criticism by directing his ill-temper towards his wife. “Your Majesty, I do not mean to slander your wife. However, it is true that Her Majesty is engaged in an affair with your commander of knights! I saw the empress and Sir Suguru in an intimate embrace some days ago, hurrying through the halls as if they did not wish to be seen!”
The emperor’s expression hardened at the servant’s accusation, his brows furrowing with disbelief and anger. His hand tightened into a fist as he processed the shocking revelation.
“Are you telling the truth?” His voice was low, carrying a dangerous edge that hinted at the storm brewing within him. The accusation struck at the very core of his trust and authority.
The servant's gaze faltered under the weight of the emperor's scrutiny, but she remained resolute. “Your Majesty, I speak only of what I have witnessed with my own eyes. By my oath and by the sanctity of God, I swear upon all that is sacred, it is no lie.”
Satoru’s mind raced with conflicting emotions, but he showed none of his inward thoughts outwardly. Instead, he delighted in this ideal opportunity for him to deal with gaining your devotion again.
“Undress yourself. I want you bare and without any clothing,” he said, his voice cold and measured, “And you shall remain in this chamber until my return.”
With that, the emperor swept out of the privy chamber at once, leaving behind a stunned and apprehensive servant. She believed it to be her sign of good luck. Of good fate. That she now found her place as a mistress to the highest ruler of this nation. She could not believe her destiny as she triumphantly unclothed herself, peeling every fabric off her body with excitement as she imagined the things the emperor would do to her upon his return. She would definitely have to deal with his wrath since he just found out that the empress betrayed her, but she was willing to have him use her body and let his anger out on his adulterous wife. An emperor with a distracted mind would be her ticket to being impregnated by his child. Soon, she would be his concubine, she would be the mother of a future emperor.
She would never again have to suffer as a servant!
Upon the sound of footsteps nearing the privy chamber, the servant provocatively sat at the edge of the tub, displaying all of her body to him and him alone. “Your Majesty, I am ready for you.”
“Are you?”
Horror washed over the servant’s face, her heartbeat increasing tenfold as she saw the empress sending an icy stare into her as she stood by the privy chamber’s entrance. Behind her were her ladies-in-waiting throwing their judgeful stares at the naked servant, surrounded by knights who seemed to have come under the emperor’s orders. The emperor! There he was, appearing behind the empress, kissing her cheek and encircling her waist, whispering to her that the servant had attempted to seduce him and had even accused his wife of infidelity. Satoru’s actions struck the servant as reminiscent of a child tattling to his mother. He adopted an air of artificial innocence, as if his only intention were to win the empress’s trust.
“Send this harlot to the throne room,” he commanded his knights, his voice loud and clear. “Let it be known that there will be consequences for those who dare to deceive their emperor.”
At the throne room, you found yourself seated at the elevated throne next to your husband. This was a place in the castle where the trials of the accused were often held, and now the accused kneeling before you on the lower part of the hall was a lowly maid which Satoru had claimed to have seduced him and besmirched your name.
Did he think you were stupid? You knew what his ulterior motives were. You were aware of his covert schemes, and that his sole attempt at orchestrating this entire spectacle was to use the maid to regain your trust and obedience out of gratitude. He was clearly at an unrest ever since you had been defiant to him and he was doing the best that he could to make you submit to him. He was desperate to show you that he was on your side, believing that by reporting the maid’s advances, he could convince you of his loyalty. Satoru must truly underestimate your intelligence if he thought that such acts would restore his control over you. But for the sake of a good show, you decided to play along.
As customary, the emperor presided over the trial, while the accused maid stood before the imperialty, her eyes downcast, while whispers could be heard through the assembled courtiers.
Satoru announced her sin in a commanding yet measured voice. “Maiden, you stand accused of attempting to seduce the sovereign and spreading slanderous falsehoods regarding Her Majesty’s honor. These are grave charges that strike at the very foundation of our empire.”
The accused maid trembled slightly but remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She seemed to be having a battle in her head, realizing that she was being used by the emperor’s cruel game. What did she expect of him? You rolled your eyes. Satoru was a known tyrant. She would never last a day being his mistress, much less a concubine. You were the only lady in this empire that could handle him.
The emperor then turned to you as he continued with his speech. “As for you, my wife, you have been accused of a betrayal that, if true, would bring shame upon the imperial family.” He paused, his expression grave yet contemplative. “Therefore, I shall leave the judgment and punishment of this matter in your hands. Only you know the truth of these accusations, and it is your virtue and integrity that will determine our course of justice.”
You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was. Now he was even entrusting the maid’s punishment to you? His tactic obviously consisted of two things: 1) giving you the authority to impose punishment on the accused would make you liable for the consequences tied to the matter 2) if proven not guilty, you would have to face the shame of your misguided punishment. Because Satoru was not certain that you were having an affair, he was putting you on the spot to decide the punishment you would give based on your conscience.
Either that or he may have simply intended to convey trust in your judgment by allowing you to administer punishment. This could be a gesture aimed at restoring your sense of authority and influence within the palace. However, given the complexities of your relationship and the context of the situation, it was likely that his motives were more layered and multifaceted.
“How do you feel about it, Empress?” Satoru asked, his demeanor strangely calm. “Perhaps we could administer ten or twenty lashes? Or have her confined to the dungeons?”
Oh, did he assume you were not capable of being creative with punishments? You were not one to shy away from brutality like him. In fact, you had something better in store for this servant of his.
The courtiers listened intently, their eyes locked upon you as you spoke. “It is my judgment that the maid shall be subjected to the punishment befitting her transgressions.”
A hushed murmur erupted through the assembled crowd as they awaited the empress’s decree.
“Firstly, the maid shall be paraded through the streets of our capital, stripped of her garments and bearing the shame of her actions for all to see. Let her walk the path of humility, that she may reflect upon the consequences of her deeds.” Your cruel words carried a weight of overwhelming gravity as you announced the first part of the punishment and proceeded to the next. “Furthermore, the maid shall be delivered unto the custody of our executioners, who shall mete out the final aspect of her punishment. Let her be subjected to the pear of anguish, that she may atone for her sins and serve as a warning to all who would dare besmirch the name of their sovereign.”
The courtiers exchanged somber glances, trembling out of fear at the severity of your inhumane judgment. Even Satoru himself was shocked at the lengths you had chosen to take just to punish a lowly maid. Why was he surprised? He, himself, was entertained at the usage of the brazen bull, roasting his enemies alive as a punishment. The pear of anguish was not even as severe as his usual choices, as its purpose was to have a pear-shaped instrument be inserted in the maid’s vagina, and expand it to the point of internal injuries and mutilation.
“No! No! Your Majesty!” she cried, her words choked with emotion. She quivered in terror and fell to her knees. “I implore you, have mercy on me! Spare me from such unspeakable agony! Forgive me for my transgressions and the harm I have caused. Please, grant me the chance to repent and seek forgiveness. I shall never again show myself to you. I beg of you, Empress Y/N, spare me from this horror!”
Her voice echoed through the hall with her desperate plea for clemency amidst the shadow of her impending doom. In the silence that followed, your eyes caught the guilt spreading on Satoru’s face. His blue eyes were, for a second, wide and horrified. But he was quick to compose himself and keep yet again a rigid face.
“Very well.” Satoru gestured to his knights to take the maid away. “Do as my wife says.”
“My liege, this is preposterous!” In the midst of the tense atmosphere, one advisor, a voice of dissent, stepped forward, his expression grave and his tone measured. Lord Maximilian was only intending to address the emperor, completely ignoring your right as the empress. “Your Majesty, the Emperor,” the advisor spoke respectfully but with conviction, “I humbly beseech you to reconsider this severe course of action. The pear of anguish, in particular, is a device of unparalleled cruelty. The punishment is more severe than the crime committed!” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I propose a more measured punishment, one that upholds the dignity of your sovereign without plunging us into the depths of brutality. Perhaps a period of confinement or hard labor could serve as a more merciful yet effective means of retribution. This way, Your Majesty, we demonstrate both strength and compassion that define thy sovereign rule.”
“Compassion?” you scoffed, humored by Lord Maximilian’s little speech. His pretentiousness was truly out of this world. He was obviously against it because he refused to see your authority over the court restored. He had not even a single idea that you were already aware that he had been conspiring with your husband to execute you. “You speak of compassion and mercy, Lord Maximilian, when this empire had seen the ruthless perish of a thousand Christian souls under your counsel to the emperor. Is that not ironic? What about the fate of his lordship, Count Stefano, whom you ordered to be skinned alive? And what of the men whose corpses were speared on pikes by the Tiber River? Now, tell me about that compassion.”
Satoru, stuck in the situation, scanned the throne room and searched for his voice of reason. The man who always stood his ground between good and evil. Lord Nanami. Yet the man was nowhere to be found. “Is Lord Nanami present? Summon him to me.”
“I am afraid not, my liege,” spoke one of the courtiers, “He had left Your Majesty a letter advising of his immediate need to be on a sabbatical. He cited no reasons as to why.”
“Is that so?” your husband’s face contorted into confusion, while you were exchanging glances with Suguru, who seemed slightly aware of your participation in Nanami’s sudden absence. However, he spoke no words about it.
And no one else also said another word, therefore, leaving Satoru to move forward with your decision on the punishment. If he was smart, he should see that your decision was not just a mere punishment to the maid but as a warning from you, that he was not the only person in this empire capable of being a tyrant. That you, as devoted as you used to be, could also be cruel if you wanted to be.
You ignored the maid’s screams of terror as the knights took her away. You kept a dignified appearance and walked out of the throne room, followed by your ladies-in-waiting as they engaged in gossip about the maid and how she had always spoken badly of the empress. You wished you cared, but truthfully, you were far too nauseated as you walked through the hallway heading towards the western wing of the castle, hearing your husband’s voice calling your name.
What did he need? Your gratitude? Your declaration of love? Your pledge of allegiance?
Frankly, you cared none, as your extreme nausea eventually had your visions blurred, and your body fainting on the marble floor.
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ACT IX
Your head ached.
By the time you opened your eyes again, it was already past noon. No, it was evening, was it? You were lying in Satoru’s bed while its owner was engrossed in a conversation with a physician. You briefly recounted the events before you were carried here, remembering the trial at the throne room, and how you fainted while walking back to your side of the palace.
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain Her Majesty is with child, yes.”
“How is that possible? We have tried for eight long years.”
“We owe this blessing to God, my liege. Your desire for an heir has been granted.”
You were… with child?
You could not believe it. As the whispered revelation reached your ears, the news brought you a swirl of emotions, for the delicate life growing within your womb just challenged the very foundations of your plans. A child. A baby. A life was growing inside of you! It was not just any other life, but an heir to the throne! A byproduct of you and your husband!
But what about your revenge?
You had a moment of introspection as you imagined yourself at a crossroad of destiny. Should you persist with your plot to topple your husband’s rule, or should you embrace the newfound responsibility and safeguard the legacy that had taken root within you? The precipice of your decision would depend on Satoru’s reaction to this matter. Your decision would fall upon his level of trust in you.
For eight years, you had always wanted to carry his child. You had always dreamed of bearing his heir. This was the very reason why the prophecy existed in the first place, and now that you were pregnant, should that mean that he would no longer find the need to remarry and execute you? Should that mean that the prophecy was false after all? The oracle was a heretic through and through and he never should have consulted with her to begin with.
“My wife.” The gentle caress of Satoru’s voice soothed your aching head. It only took you then to realize that the physician had already left you two alone, and now your husband was sitting on the edge of his bed, touching your cheek. “To think,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with wonder, “that our union has borne fruit at last. Now, we have an heir to carry my legacy.”
He was joyous. He was surging with happiness which was glowing within him, the kind of joy that you had never seen before as he embraced his beloved wife and shared the news. For a moment, your heart melted and you were ready to forsake the grudge you carried in your heart as he proved his reaction to be genuine. His eyes sparkled like jewels as he placed a soft kiss on your belly, then moving to press his lips onto yours.
You wanted to cry. You wanted to tear up as never in your life had you received this much level of affection from your own husband. He had never looked at you with such adoration and respect for the longest time since he had been with you. No, this was the very first time he had truly acknowledged you as his wife.
“Am I no longer useless to your eyes?” you asked, carrying a hint of sadness on your tone despite smiling at him. “Will I no longer bear the title of a barren empress?”
Satoru solemnly shook his head and kissed your hand, your cheek, and your lips. “No. Each tongue that rises against my wife shall fall.”
You were uncertain whether it was you or him who pulled each other for an embrace, but the gravity that brought you to two together was of mutual force. He held you in his arms tenderly just as you enveloped yourself in his warmth. So this is how it feels like to be loved? You were in complete bliss. You were free from the emotional torment that—
Knock, knock!
The abrupt knock on the door interrupted the intimate moment between you and your husband, diverting his attention to the intruder who dared disrupt the special moment. Satoru, no doubt, was already thinking of potential punishments in his mind as he summoned his attendant to enter. The attendant conveyed that a knight sought an urgent audience with him, but what could be so urgent at this dead of night?
The intruder, to your surprise, was none other than his knight commander, Suguru.
“Suguru?” Satoru faced him with a more lenient countenance, “Speak briefly.”
The knight commander glanced at you before he knelt on one knee and looked at the carpeted floor, delivering a message that required urgent and utmost attention. “Your Imperial Majesty, we have discovered a group of knights clad in silver armor, mounted upon war horses lining the city’s border. My men have identified the potential invaders as the Aurorae Heavy Cavalry of the Astheryn Empire.”
“What?!” Just like Satoru’s explosive reaction, you were also surprised by the news. You knew Astheryn was ready for war, but you did not expect them to move so rashly. Satoru knew he was right to conduct a military inspection a week prior, because now, in spite of his growing temperament, he was also mentally prepared for an all-out war. “Those Astheryn bastards! How many are they?!”
“Estimated at about 1000 units, my liege.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. A thousand foreign soldiers stationed at the border of the Caelum Empire was undeniably an invasion. The audacity of this act, carried out without any prior communication to Satoru, no wonder fueled his anger like a volcano on the brink of eruption. It was a blatant disrespect to him as an emperor and to his lands as an empire.
“Double the numbers of our infantrymen and dispatch them to the border!” Satoru’s voice carried a low growl, his hand instinctively reaching to massage his temples as he pondered a course of action. “They must comprise our most elite unit. I demand these men be vigilant and alert at all times. Anyone caught sleeping will have their eyes gouged,” he ordered, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. His eyes held fury in them as he silently paced back and forth in his chamber. However, just as Suguru made to depart, Satoru’s hand halted him mid-step. “Better yet, remain here and stand guard over my wife,” he commanded, his voice taut with resolve. “I will issue the orders to the army personally and confer with my chief tactician.”
Your husband had already left before you could even stop him. His presence, in a mere blink of an eye, was gone as he stormed out of the chamber, yelling out, “That bastard Toji will die by my hands. How dare he!”
And now you were left with his commander of knights, Suguru, who looked at you in concern as you made an attempt to get out of bed. He was quick to catch you in his arms, guiding you to walk carefully. “Is it true?” you asked, face inches close to him. You could feel his hand on your waist, and the other guiding your arm. “Astheryn’s invasion?”
“Empress, it is of utmost importance that you remain within the safety of His Majesty’s chamber," Suguru advised, his fox-like eyes seemingly enamored by your face. “Your well-being is paramount, particularly at this moment. I understand now why you have been looking so radiant.”
You smiled at his words. "And what might you be implying by that?"
“That our beautiful empress bears the heir to the empire,” he spoke softly. “This is a direct contradiction to the prophecy. Are you happy, my lady?”
As you nodded, you felt Suguru placing a gentle kiss above your hand, still kneeling before you like a true, loyal knight. He looked at you with a gaze filled with the desire to protect. His chivalry was evident in his demeanor toward you, the most beautiful lady of the empire. Unbeknownst to you, Suguru had long been captivated by your beauty. From the moment he first came to your family’s estate to train as a knight, he harbored a wanton desire for you. Yet, he struggled with his feelings, torn between his admiration for you and his loyalty to Satoru, his friend and lord. How could he? He should punish himself for having a mere attraction to the emperor’s wife.
“Suguru, I expect you to be loyal to me until the very end,” you interrupted his reverie, bringing him back to the present. “Can I count on that from you?”
Before the knight could respond, a fit of unhinged laughter echoed through the chamber. There, your crazed husband walked in, his sardonically joyful eyes wide with paranoia. “Ha ha ha! Absurd! Utterly preposterous!” His loud voice reverberated through the walls, his mind now free of the on-going invasion and was instead evidently consumed by the scene before him. “My wife, you jest, surely? Suguru, tell me this is some jest! Loyalty, indeed, I have full faith in your loyalty, but this... the maid’s accusation. It is true after all?!”
Immediately, the knight commander moved away from you and scrambled to kneel down at the furious emperor. You yourself could not hide your growing anxiety, but it was best to keep calm and explain the situation to your husband properly.
“My liege, it is not what you think,” Suguru swore to your husband, who was now laughing maniacally.
“Ah, so you two conspired!” Satoru’s eyes darted between you and his friend. “I see it now, the hidden plots, the whispers in the shadows. My wife and my loyal knight, plotting against me. Speak, reveal the treachery!”
You shook your head, maintaining your composure. “He is telling the truth. There is no affair—”
“Silence, you wicked bitch!” By this time, Satoru was throwing a tantrum, kicking the nearby console table and throwing the first vase he saw.
Suguru rose, his voice pleading, "Your Majesty, I..."
“Get out or I will eviscerate you in front of her!” Satoru’s words cut through the tension, and Suguru, after a moment of hesitation, took a deep breath and left, casting a worried glance at you before exiting. It was clear that Satoru was in a state of manic denial, with his laughter echoing through the chamber like a haunting refrain.
Alone with him now, you observed his demeanor, noting the same scene of past trauma in his laughter. It was reminiscent of the night his sister perished for committing suicide—a portrait of a man on the brink of madness, masking his torment with deranged laughter. Each step he took towards you carried danger. “This... This child you carry is a bastard, isn’t it? That child is not mine!”
You shot him a look of disbelief, refusing to entertain such absurd accusations. “You are talking nonsense!”
Enraged, he seized another vase and hurled it across the room, the sound of shattering porcelain ringing through the chamber, though you maintained your composure despite the sudden chaos. You must not act weak in front of a tyrant. At this rate, he could kill out of impulse, but you were careful not to pull the trigger.
“My wife thinks I am lost in a mire of absurdity?” Satoru’s laugh rang in your ears again. “Conniving bitch! Tell me, what am I to do with this wretched child you carry? Shall I slice open your belly and rip it out myself?”
Slap! A resounding slap, sharp and clear, graced Satoru’s cheek as his words drew tears from your eyes. Despite the welling tears, you mustered enough courage to respond. “If you question the lineage of this child, is that not a questioning of your own fertility? Do you deem yourself barren, unable to sire your own bloodline? If so, you have long scorned me for lacking an heir, yet now you cast doubt upon the child that I carry. Useless, you have called me. Now, useless, you call yourself! A barren emperor, unable to secure his own legacy. Is that what you perceive yourself to be?”
“Hold that tongue, you impudent wench!” With a rough hand, he grabbed your arm and tightened his hold so much so that it would leave bruises. “Here I stand, grappling with a war that has the power to shape or shatter my own legacy, while my own wife wanders about like a wanton whore?”
A whore? You laughed, as equally maniacal as him. No, a lot worse than him. How foolish of you to think that your husband was someone you could trust your life with? You could not believe that you almost let your guard down in front of him after you learned that you were carrying his child. Yet here he was, spouting nonsense like an absolute fool. He only judged what he saw, not analyzed what he was yet to know. This was exactly why Emperor Toji would always be a smarter ruler than him.
“I am your wife, and I have stood by your side through thick and thin. I have shared your lows and highs. I have seated you at that very throne! Therefore, I will not dignify such insults with a response.” Each word left your mouth with gritted teeth. This was your future, peeled off for your eyes to see. No matter how much you cared for him, no matter how loyal you were to him, no matter how much love you offered to him; you were nothing but a woman ready to be thrown at his disposal. It hurt. Truly, it hurt. And because you loved him, you tried holding onto the thin string of hope that he was true to you. That even if he could not love you, he still trusted you. That was the foundation of your relationship from the beginning. Trust. And that will be your ultimatum to him. So, with a shaky voice and tearful eyes, you asked, “I require nothing else from you but this… do you even trust me?”
His answer was a make or break.
His answer would determine whether you would carry your plans out or not.
Because if he said yes, then you would forsake everything and be loyal to him without his unconditional love.
But if he said no, then there was no point at being his wife when your role would always be easily replaced.
Satoru’s stolid mien was an answer in itself, because his blank gaze and unsympathetic expression sent your heart to the ninth circle of hell. “No,” he declared, “I never have and never will.”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT X
Four days.
Or perhaps five?
The days blurred into an indistinguishable haze since your husband’s decree consigned you to the confines of the west tower. Unlike the dungeon, reserved for commoners and lower ranks, the western tower housed nobility and imperial captives. Though superior in amenities, it remained a prison in essence. There was only a solitary window within the cell that offered a scant glimpse of the world beyond. The view was barely within your reach as it was too high up for you to be able to see outside.
You were treated no less than a rebel. Accused of treason. Accused of infidelity. Your reputation as an empress was tarnished, excluded from social circles, excommunicated by the church—at least, these were some of the things you have heard from the passerby, the attendants who do their nightly rounds in the west tower. The attendants and guards themselves no longer respected you, although you could still sense that they were cautious around you. Afraid that if the emperor were to change his mind and release you, that you would remember their faces and get back at them with brutal repercussions.
It was entertaining, truly. It was even more humorous to watch the attendant serve you with soup and bread day and night. Judging by the distinct odor, the soup was laced with arsenic. Someone was definitely trying to poison you, but you were certain that it was not orchestrated by Satoru. Not him. He was too stupid to conjure such a plan as it also contradicted his penchant for more direct and violent approaches. If he wanted to assassinate someone, he would rather crack their skulls or slash them in half. He was too bloodthirsty to kill someone by means of poison.
So that left you with one person: Lord Maximilian.
Your father, the Grand Duke, promptly sent you a letter after hearing that you were locked up in the west tower, assuring you of his efforts to persuade Satoru to release you and clear your name, demanding your innocence be proved to the empire. He also cautioned that it might be a considerable amount of time before your husband could address your case, given the pressing matter of the Astherean army’s invasion on Caelum’s borders. In your head, you knew Satoru was having a hard time dealing with the military conflict without your counsel. It was your mind that staged the coup, leading him to his succession ten years ago. Now, without you, he was faced with difficulty. He did not even have Nanami by his side to guide him through the war.
You laughed. Good for him.
On the seventh day, your father wrote again. This time, he informed you that there was a ceasefire between Caelum and Astheryn. Apparently, Caelum was struck by the bubonic plague. Astheryn withdrew its cavalry out of fear of losing their soldiers from the Black Death, while Caleans were left to suffer from the spreading disease. The citizens were going mad, panic was ensuing, and there was food shortage everywhere. No one knew what the cause was nor how to cure it. He said those who had caught the disease would fall to their deaths in a matter of days.
You laughed again. That is my own doing, father.
Three days later, another missive arrived from the Grand Duke, informing you of his recent audience with Satoru. Your father let you know that the Emperor still held a lingering wrath towards you, but he confirmed that your trial would be scheduled shortly. The letter also conveyed unsettling rumors of your potential deposition, suggesting that Satoru entertained matrimonial negotiations with Princess Katarina from the Kingdom of Ellesmere.
You laughed even more. A remarriage, just as he wanted.
On the fourteenth day, your father did not write. He visited you on the western tower himself, somberly informing you of Suguru’s demise. He revealed that the knight commander had been thrown in the dungeon on the same day you were taken to the west tower, but he was treated more harshly. He was tortured, mentally and physically, until he met a gruesome death. Your father chose to spare you of the details of Suguru’s tragic fate.
At that, you could not laugh. No, in fact, you cried silently in your cell that night knowing that an innocent man died ruthlessly because of you.
What a hypocrite you were!
The burden of introducing the Great Plague to Caelum, resulting in the deaths of countless innocent citizens, rested on your shoulders. Yet, your moral boundary seemed to be drawn at Suguru’s demise?
You found yourself engulfed in laughter once more, disregarding the puzzled stares from attendants and guards alike. They may have deemed you mad, yet perhaps, madness was the only sane response to the chaos of this world. Why? What was there to be ashamed of? Life was but a game of strategy, a grand chessboard where the king, though less agile than the queen, would always be the last man standing.
Seated in a corner that night, your laughter mingled with tears, a mix of raw emotions unleashed, as the echo of approaching footsteps reached your ears. The flickering torchlight casted a shadow upon the wall, revealing the silhouette of a tall man escorted by two knights.
“Y/N.”
When Satoru visited you on the eve of your trial, you never expected him to call your name so tenderly. What you were anticipating was his usual torrent of anger and scorn, and you found yourself bewildered by the odd shift in his demeanor. He then entered your cell and crouched before you, his blue eyes seemed almost softened by sympathy.
“Your trial is scheduled for tomorrow,” he spoke deliberately, though you avoided meeting his gaze. “I have a proposal for you.”
You remained silent.
“Even if you have betrayed me, I will extend mercy to you out of gratitude for aiding my ascension to the throne.” The irony of his words were a slap to your face, hurting your ears as you listened. “I require you to step down from your throne with humility, dispose of the bastard you carry, and live a modest, solitary life in the countryside. An estate awaits you there. You will live quietly and await my visits. You will remain my mistress, though it will not be officially acknowledged.”
As the emperor’s words were spoken, the empress’s laughter erupted with a wild and bitter sound that echoed through the chamber. Your eyes blazed with defiance, lips curled into a scornful sneer.
“Ha ha ha!”
Satoru’s lips tightened a fraction, his body turning into solid ice as you let out an ear splitting horselaugh.
“Ha ha ha ha!”
His eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Empress!”
“Fool!” you spat, your voice laced with derision. “You think to offer me mercy while chaining me to a life of servitude? You speak of gratitude while stripping me of dignity and autonomy. Your offer is just another prison, a way to keep me as your pawn!” Your laughter turned into a manic fervor, fueled by rage and disillusionment. “I will not bend to your will, nor will I accept your false benevolence.”
In the end, Satoru was still a hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic man. An ungrateful, hubristic, foolish man.
“Are you aware of your current standing?!” He was livid. Oh, he certainly was.
Yet you? You smiled. You offered him a beautiful, sarcastic smile. “No soul in this empire will love you except for me! All are foes to you, except for me! I alone have loved you for you. Think about that, my misguided husband, for in your quest for power, you have forsaken the one who loved you sincerely.”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT XI
“We gather today for a matter of great import: the trial of Her Majesty, the Empress, accused of treasonous infidelity.”
As the trial went on, your thoughts drifted back to the day of the maid’s trial. Then, she knelt beneath the throne, facing the scrutiny of the court as she protested her innocence and pleaded for mercy. You, once seated upon the now-vacant throne, regarded her with detached interest. The irony of the reversal was not lost on you. It was true that you would pay the price of your wrongdoings, and be rewarded for your kind deeds. In this life, you let your greed get the best of you. You let your love for Satoru blind you. If you were ever to be reborn, you vowed to never again allow yourself to be ensnared by such folly for it led you to nowhere but misery.
How funny is that? These nobles were all here to watch your trial, while a war and plague were happening outside of the castle’s walls.
“—may our deliberations be guided by the righteous light of truth. Empress Y/N, you appear to be in jest. This trial is a serious matter to thee.”
You received the courtier’s look of disapproval, while the others were judging your sanity.
“Let her be,” ordered Satoru, who looked tired and resigned. You could hear his sigh even if he was a couple meters away, and his eyes glowed in sad blues as he stared at you, as if it would be the last time he would ever see your face.
Perhaps that truly was the case, and you made no effort to fight against it nor did you appeal to prove your innocence. There was no mercy begged for, no forgiveness sought for. It was because you saw no purpose to live this life. He must have sensed your true feelings inside as he watched you from afar, but Satoru still seemed like he was looking for a way to get you out of the situation. Instead of imposing a tyrannous punishment on you, he was clearly attempting to make you innocent. To give you a benefit of the doubt. All of the courtiers and advisors, however, were in complete disagreement. They knew that the emperor held a soft spot for you, but they did not know that his only purpose was to keep using you.
Honestly? Your mind was growing weary. The trial dragged on endlessly as Satoru struggled to mitigate your punishment. Not until…
“His Majesty, Emperor Satoru, has been consulting with an oracle,” you declared, silencing the entire hall with your revelation, “He keeps the old lady hidden deep in the dungeon. Do you all hear me? The emperor of this nation is involved in heresy and must face an inquisition!”
Your accusations, indeed, were grave. An eerie and portentous air filled the throne room as Satoru himself was stunned and wide-eyed. Surprise contorted his features after he was exposed. His lips quivered and his jaw muscles tightened, and anger soon smoldered all semblance of composure on his saintly face.
Caelum was a deeply Catholic nation and the Catholic Church, as an institution, did not endorse or recognize oracles as legitimate sources of divine revelation. Practices associated with oracles, such as divination, fortune-telling, and consulting spirits, as forms of superstition were heretical. These practices were considered as attempts to circumvent the authority of the Church and seek guidance from sources outside of the orthodox Christian belief.
Individuals suspected of engaging in practices associated with oracles, particularly if those practices were perceived as challenging the Church authority or promoting beliefs contrary to Catholic doctrine, could be subject to investigation, trial, and punishment by ecclesiastical authorities, even if they were members of the imperial family.
Thus, in your revelation, Satoru was now subjected to a much more serious, unforgivable crime than you. Because he would be at war with the Church.
And not only would he be at war with the Church, but also with Astheryn, and the Great Plague all at once.
Of course, Satoru intensely denied it and tried to turn things around on you. He was going haywire as your ‘accusation’ caused a commotion amongst the courtiers who whispered and murmured in shock and disbelief. As the emperor, his voice held the greatest authority in that hall, and so he became furious at you, claiming to everyone that you were diverting the situation to seem innocent, denying the existence of an oracle in his castle, and that you were to be publicly executed for the crime of commiting lèse-majesté by slandering the emperor’s name.
Finally, the tyrant was back.
You were sick of his sympathetic gazes.
If your husband knew you by heart, then he would know that your sole intention at declaring his fortnightly consultations with the oracle was because you wanted to anger him, and in turn, get a punishment that would be enough to free yourself from his grasp. That was the perfect approach.
But of course, Satoru might be slow in that department. All he could see right now was a traitorous wife whose malicious intent was to undermine his authority and topple him from the throne. An enemy. That was what you had become to him.
On the day of your public execution, your father cried. And so did your ladies-in-waiting. The rest were eager to see you beheaded, all with keen eyes as you were ushered at the public square, drawing in a large crowd of nobles and commoners alike.
Who would have guessed that you held such notoriety?
The words, “witch!”, “traitor!”, and “evil!” were thrown your way as you were guided by two knights towards the center of the scaffold. With a rosary on one hand, and a bible on the other, you looked at your father. He should be safe. You had written him a letter, telling him to bring the family and the servants to a remote island away from Caelum. As for you, your end was near.
With your head pressed against the block, and the executioner raising his sword, your impending doom was imminent. The imperial sword he carried, you recognized, was Satoru’s personal and favorite sword.
“Your head will be severed swiftly,” said the headsman, “Any last words?”
Your eyes found the sky as your lips curled into a sinister smile. “Citizens of Caelum, I will soon meet your Emperor in hell!”
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
ACT XII
A month has passed since your execution.
Instead of having your decapitated head impaled on spikes atop the city gates, Satoru ordered your corpse be buried at the tomb. The location was not revealed to anyone else. The citizens also did not question his choice.
The emperor was secretly grieving the loss of his wife.
Everyone knew. They were all aware that the emperor was mourning over the empress despite her betrayal of him, yet all of them turned a blind-eye on it. They were afraid that the emperor would punish anyone who would remind him of you.
Was this still not an act of love?
In fact, no, not everyone knew. Not everyone was aware that one of your lady-in-waiting swore to him in oath that you never had an affair with the knight and that the child you carried was not at all a bastard, but his. It was Satoru’s heir. It was his own child. His own flesh and blood.
Because of his misjudgment and his paranoia, he lost the only woman who truly loved him.
Now the empire was in shambles. Satoru could not deny that your lack of presence in the castle had a much more devastating impact than the plague that wiped half of Caelum’s population. His advisors were of no use when it came to military tactics. Nanami, the most competent of them all, was nowhere to be found. The soldiers have been struck by the Black Death, lowering his total heavy infantry down to a quarter of its nominal full strength.
The plague had spread rapidly, causing widespread devastation and food shortage, and as the death toll rose and communities were decimated by the plague, desperation set in. There were villages that had more dead people to collect than living beings who survived. It was a state where all were affected no matter what their noble rankings were.
People tried various remedies and treatments, often turning to religious practices such as prayer and penance in hopes of appeasing divine wrath and stopping the spread of the disease. Plague doctors also swarmed the streets with their dark canvas robes and beaked masks, implementing quarantine and treating infected individuals.
Satoru secluded himself in his chamber, both day and night, observing the devastation of his empire from the castle’s highest vantage point. Desperation ran rampant, driving citizens to seek sanctuary within the palace walls. Initially, the emperor permitted entry only to the highest-ranking nobles. However, as word spread of the palace offering refuge, lower-ranking nobles and commoners clamored for entry, prompting Satoru to order the complete fortification of the castle walls.
The stench of burning bodies permeated the air as the castle became besieged by the diseased, seeking entry but met with the fierce flames intended to ward off infection from the emperor and his staff.
“What is the news about the Kingdom of Ellesmere?” Satoru, who had been suffering from high fever, muscle pain, and skin lesions, was accompanied by a state of paranoia as he spoke to Lord Maximilian. “My marriage negotiations with that… that princess. What do they say?”
“My liege.” He bowed, apologetically. “They no longer wish to proceed. As we are struck by the plague, King Kalleon VI thought it would be of no benefit to be in alliance with a fallen empire. Furthermore, there is something that you must be aware of, Your Majesty.”
The emperor looked at his advisor.
“The trade ship that caused the plague to spread throughout Caelum was…” the old man paused, wary of the ruler’s reaction, “It was approved entry by the late Empress Y/N.”
Ha ha ha ha!
How twisted of you, indeed. Where does he go from here? Satoru was sick, genuinely sick, as he heard the clamor of diseased individuals rioting outside the castle walls. Inside the palace, his own people were also engaged in their own chaos. He was at a point where he was too fatigued to react violently at his wife’s crimes. What did Maximilian want him to do, chastise you? You were already gone, and you have left him with the most profound revenge than any punishment he could ever fathom.
Satoru found himself consumed by a maelstrom of emotions. He was seeing red from his visions, and seeing black from his discolored skin. Gangrene. Buboes. Chills. All he could do now was laugh at his misery. He grappled with the haunting question of how he arrived at this wretched juncture. What deeds, what choices, led him down this harrowing path of suffering and despair?
Lord Maximilian made one last attempt at coaxing the emperor. “My liege, the prophecy…”
The mere mention of the prophecy, however, ignited a primal fury within him. His words filled Satoru with a seething rage and he entertained the notion of silencing Maximilian’s voice forever, drawing his sword and executing a swift slash on his advisor’s neck.
That damned prophecy!
That, that was what led to all of this!
In the depths of his suffering, Satoru had experienced the last stretch of the disease entering his body. He was vomiting, crawling on the floor, reaching for the window in hopes of seeing his empire for the last time. But eventually, his weakened body had him submit to his forfeit.
In a matter of minutes, he would soon find death and earn his place at the ninth circle of hell.
In a matter of seconds, he would soon be named the most hated emperor in history, just as you like it.
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
EPILOGUE
In the aftermath of the plague and the cessation of war, the once-mighty Caelum Empire lay in ruin, its rulers, named the most evil Emperor and Empress in history, overthrown. The remnants of the imperial lineage crumbled under the weight of their tyranny. Rising from the shadows of despair emerged the newly crowned Emperor Yuuta, the only remaining lineal heir of the Gojou lineage, who returned to Caelum with a fervent commitment to restore and rebuild. Known for his fairness and compassion, Yuuta pledged to rebuild the empire, to heal its wounds, and to usher in an era of lasting peace. With each brick laid and each decree issued, he sought to honor the memory of those who perished and to ensure that the horrors of the past would never be repeated. And so, under Yuuta’s steadfast guidance, the Caelum Empire embarked on a journey of restoration, its future brightened by the promise of a new dawn.
Sneaky Link 💙 (Toxic!Student!Gojo x Professor!MILF!Reader FWB 18+ One Shot)
“You know you want this.”
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Black!Fem!Reader (Teacher x Student/FWBs to Lovers)
Synopsis: You’re a stressed-out mom and college professor who has been swamped with your job and mommy life lately. You’re so knee-deep in your work and kids that you need some kind of release. Unfortunately, you’re not finding any of that in your husband, but luckily, that’s what Gojo Satoru is here for…even though he’s way too young for you and is your student.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Professor!Reader; College Student!Gojo; College AU; MILF!Reader; FWBs/Fuck Buddies; Toxic!Fuckboy-ish!Gojo; Switch!Gojo (MDom + msub); Switch!Reader (FDom + fsub); Infidelity/Cheating; Oral (Giving + Receiving); Some Analingus; Body Worship; Deepthroat; Facefucking; Spit Play; Pussy Drunk!Gojo; Cock Drunk!Reader; Daddy Kink; Mommy Kink; Multiple Positions (Doggy, Missionary, From the Side); Dirty Talk; Possession/Ownership; Scent Marking; Cum Play; Breeding; Unprotected PIV; Raw Creampie; Facial
Writer’s Note: I was listening to SWV’s “You’re The One” & got an idea for this. I love me some toxic!Gojo 🤤 Enjoy! -Jazz
********
You never knew how loud a man could get until your husband orgasmed.
Usually, you’d find this sexy. You love vocal men. You love your vocal man. All of his slutty moans, gasps, and groans that bounce off of your bedroom walls would usually trigger your nut quick.
“Cumming!” he moans, hovering over you, his face glistening in sweat as he rails into you like he’s trying to wake the neighbors with the knocking headboard. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming! Cum with me! Are you cumming with me?”
But instead, you lie there underneath him like a dead fish, just staring and not moaning or orgasming like you should be. Like you used to. “Uh-huh,” you reply.
Even as his handsome face screws up the way you like, you don’t find it even remotely attractive. It isn’t like your husband isn’t a sexy man. Every time you go out, you catch the wandering eyes of women and men alike who ogle at your man despite the ring on his finger and being the father of your beautiful twins.
But what they don’t know is that the sexy man they all want for themselves is dry in the sheets. What they don’t know is that he isn’t attentive or a good listener when it comes to doing what you want and need to achieve pleasure. What they don’t know is that your marriage that seems so perfect and amazing actually isn’t.
Case in point, when your husband finally orgasms, gripping the headboard and pausing to cum while buried deep inside of you, he doesn’t even notice how quiet and stoic you are. You are not enjoying yourself yet he is completely oblivious to it. Just like he is every night…or any night he decides to fuck you, that is.
Finally, he lets out a shudder and a satisfied smile stretches across his mouth, a sign that the sexy was more than satisfactory. He pecks you on the lips and rolls over onto his back, lying naked beside you while you lie in your beautiful gown from tonight’s date night. You didn’t even take off your dress! That’s how unsatisfied you feel and how much you didn’t want any kind of sex tonight.
“Wow,” your husband sighs. “That was amazing, baby.” He turns to you, a sparkle in his eyes. You don’t look at him, instead staring at the ceiling. “Mmm-hmm,” you hum.
He moves in close and wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his sweaty chest. “I’m so glad we were able to do this,” he chuckles. “I know we’ve been pretty busy with work and the banquet tonight was tiring, so it’s nice that we always get time to have sex.”
‘On your time, that is,’ you sourly think.
“Yeah,” you say instead. “It was…okay.” Your husband ironically catches onto your bored tone and sits up, his flaccid dick hanging between his thighs. “Okay?” he parrots, confused. “But we tried that position you’ve been wanting to try! Y’know, the one with your legs up and your head hanging off the bed?”
You play with a loose strand on your gorgeous dress that you bought a month in advance for your husband’s work banquet.
The banquet you went to tonight and shucked your kids off to your parents for.
The banquet you were hoping your man would get drunk at, notice how sexy you look, and use all of tonight without your children home to make you cum your brains out.
And even though he did agree to do a new position for the first time in months, it didn’t feel any better. You felt no kind of enjoyment. “Well, yeah,” you say. “A-And it felt good, but—“
“But what, Y/N?” He sighs, sounding tired of your shit. You’re tired of your shit too, but also his. “I thought we had managed to squash this finally after our dry spell.”
Dry spell. You nearly scoff. Is he still convinced that this dry spell is moistened now? You glare at him, not liking his tone or his blasé attitude towards your needs. “You only noticed that it was a ‘dry spell’ because I wasn’t sucking your dick anymore,” you snap.
This has been happening for the past couple of months, especially since the beginning of spring semester. You’re a college professor working at one of the most prestigious Ivy League universities in the country, so half of your time is given towards work. And if your time isn’t given towards work, it’s given towards your two beautiful yet chaotic 5-year old twins.
You are married to a bigtime corporate lawyer, going on year six. They’ve been six years full of love, happiness, and great communication. But lately, that communication has been waning thin because of work. Your hubby is a very busy man, constantly at work juggling cases and sometimes working on the weekends when he should be spending time with you and the kids…especially with you.
Ever since the spring semester started for you, things have gotten worse with the stress of grading assignments and exams before your senior classes graduate. Your head is filled with planning things for the next month: planning class lessons, grading, what to fix the kids for their school lunches, etc.
You are drowning in your stress! All you want to do is be with your man. Hug him. Kiss him. Have him put you in the mattress again and again…but that’s barely been happening. He’s always tired or asleep when you’re in need of attention. And when you do get the attention you crave, it’s lackluster and half the time you end up making yourself cum when he rolls off to sleep.
It wasn’t always like this. Your sex used to be amazing, filled with connection and intimacy. Now it’s just…nothing. The fact that he doesn’t listen to what you want or even attempt to try is even worse. He is too busy for you and it’s starting to piss you off.
But not enough to hit up the one guy you know can get the job done. Not enough for that at all! So you roll your ass over and tend to your irked husband. “I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s not you, baby; it’s me. It’s just stress from work and the kids an’ all.”
And that’s the truth, though you left out that you’re also pent up, horny, and sexually frustrated. However, your husband embraces you back, so you don’t say anything to ruin your cuddling session.
After a while of soft kisses and snuggling, your hubby gets out of bed and steps over his suit that he quickly stripped off as soon as you got back here an hour ago. “You wanna shower with me?” he asks, putting his bathrobe on.
You open your mouth to respond with an excuse not to, but your phone ringing on the nightstand gives you one. “Uh, in a minute,” you reply. “I’ve gotta take a call.”
He nods and gives you a smile which makes you feel horrible. He truly is a great husband, but your throbbing pussy and rising libido tell you differently. Once he leaves, you answer the call to the one person who can truly understand your dilemma. “Answering my call at 10 PM on a Friday night?” She asks. “You either fought your man or the sex was bad. Good evening, Ms. L/N.”
“Hi,” you chuckle, quickly looking at the bathroom door where your man disappeared. When the water starts running, you speak louder. “And no, it wasn’t bad. It was just….average.”
Your friend laughs despite your pain. “Well, be happy that he at least had the time to reciprocate this time. Did you cum this time?”
“Uh….” You contemplate whether to lie or tell her the truth. If you lie, you’ll feel bad for doing so, but if you’re honest then she’ll berate him like she always does. Finally, you sigh and give in. “I tried, but no. There was zero trying on his end.”
Your friend isn’t happy to hear that. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it this time,” she groans. “If he’s embarrassed, let him be embarrassed!” You roll your eyes at the mention of you faking your orgasms for your husband at one point to appease him. You do things for the ones you love. “No, I didn’t,” you sigh. “I did as you said and kept quiet, but he didn’t even mention it!”
You put a hand on your forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “I took the kids over to my parents’ place for some time alone after the banquet. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with this.”
“Well, you could always come out with me and my man tonight,” your friend suggests. “They’re having this special called Freaky Fridays at the bar we like. You could meet a nice guy there.”
You can’t even picture yourself getting out of bed to get into your sexy clothes and cheat. You’ve done that already. “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve had enough drinking for one night.”
“Oh, how was the fancy banquet, by the way?” Your friend excitedly asks. “You looked so fuckin’ good tonight! If I were your hubby, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” You laugh at her referring to your photos on Twitter of you at your husband’s work party. Something about his firm celebrating their 50th year in business.
“Maybe I should’ve married you then,” you giggle. “It was fine, but all I could think about was gettin’ fucked in the bathroom. I tried to initiate a quickie before we left, but he wasn’t having it.” You sit up, ignoring the insistent throb of your clit and the need to get your vibrator out of your nightstand if not use your fingers.
“Plus I still have grading to do over the weekend before next weekend when graduation starts.” Your friend dramatically groans at the mention of your work.
“Girl, you’ve been busy since the beginning of the damn semester!” she scoffs.
“That’s the life of a professor,” you chuckle, taking your hair down and running a hand trough your curs/twists/locks/waves/braids. “And to make matters worse, I’m extremely horny.”
“That’s why I said come out and meet somebody!” your friend says. “But then again, maybe you don’t need that. You’ve still got Mr. Long Dick on speed dial, don’t you?” She giggles knowingly despite you cringing on the other end.
“Don’t even mention him,” you sharply warn her. “I told you before: what we had was just a fling and it should’ve never happened. That’s why I ended it. Plus, he’s my student!”
“Not for long!” she argues. “He graduates in a week, Y/N! And he’s a grown-ass man! He wouldn’t have agreed to fuck you if he couldn’t handle it.”
You squeeze your eyes to try and will away the thought of ‘Mr. Long Dick’ with his snow-white hair, alluring blue eyes, charming smile…and his long dick. His long, thick, perfect dick. And his sensuous, pink lips. And his tongue and fingers that he absolutely knows how to work.
Gojo Satoru. Straight A student, athlete, and renowned fuckboy. He has every girl and guy on campus going crazy for him. Yes, he is perfect. Yes, he is good in bed. But he is also too young, has community dick, and is one of your senior students.
You made the mistake of having a five-month long sexual relationship with him that you quickly ended last month before finals month. It first started when the chill of November came and your bedroom problems with your husband got bad to the point where he was sleeping at his brother’s place.
Gojo was always a flirt and made it clear to you that he had a thing for you—always complimenting your hair and outfits; holding the door for you and flashing you pretty smiles; always making excuses to stay after class or meet you in your office to discuss assignments.
You didn’t realize that he truly wanted you until he was in your office one day and happened across a photo of you and your twins together. “They’re beautiful,” he commented, smiling at them. Then he turned to you, his gaze soft and intimate. “Just like their mother.” You swear you’ve never been so wet before, your panties becoming soaked under your pencil skirt.
That was also the day you kissed him. Overcome with lust and desperation that your man wasn’t fulfilling, you stood up and planted one on him which he happily embraced. His kiss was electric and passionate, his hands soft and happily wandering your ass and hips. But you didn’t have sex in your office. Instead, you invited him over that night when your husband was at a work dinner and your kids were sleep.
There, in your marital bed, he fucked your brains out and made you realize how good young dick is…or maybe that’s just his. He made you cum three times before he left, keeping your panties in his back pocket when he did. For the next five months, you would see him behind your husband’s back.
You’d fuck him in your office. In his dorm room when his roommate was gone. In your house on your lunch hour while your husband was out and your kids were at school. In hotel rooms. In empty classrooms. It was the most alive you’ve felt in a minute…but despite how good it felt, it was also wrong, so you cut him off last month.
“No,” you sternly say. “Sure, Gojo was a good time, but it was inappropriate. Besides, who the fuck would I be fucking my own student? He probably would’ve started asking me to bump his grades up.”
Your friend, of course, goes to argue, but the bathroom door opens and you quickly jump up like your hand is in the cookie jar. “I’ll call you back,” you say and quickly hang up the phone. Your husband comes out in his robe, smelling of soap and cologne.
You watch him walk over to his closet and take out some fresh clothes. “Uh….where are you going?” You confusedly ask. He turns to you, putting on his shirt first. “Got a call from one of my working buddies,” he explains. “I forgot about this bar crawl my job is throwing just for my company. It’s the mandatory after-banquet after-party.”
You scowl at him, knowing he’s lying. “Mandatory?” You scoff. “There’s no such thing as a mandatory after-party. You just wanna go just to go.”
He shoots you a look as he drops his towel before putting on some boxers and jeans.
“Well, metaphorically, it is mandatory because of my position, just like the banquet was,” he argues. “And even if it isn’t literally mandatory, what’s the big deal?”
This is another thing you dislike about your husband: his inability to put aside his own wants. You do it all the time for him! “Well, I thought you were gonna stay here for a while so we could watch a movie or cuddle,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your bosom. ”Y’know…spend time together without the kids.”
You hope he’ll see how upset you are and reconsider. But he doesn’t. “Well…I’ve gotta get dressed, babe. Everyone is waiting for me.” And to add flame to the fire he’s already started, he scowls at you while buttoning his jeans. “And I just spent an hour here trying to make you cum!” he continues.
You gape at him, silently seething. So now it’s your fault. “Never mind,” you sigh. “Forget it. I’ll just grade these assignments.” Immediately, you shut down and scoot to the edge of the bed to dig into your nightstand for fresh panties.
Your husband realizes how bad he fucked up and quickly rushes to apologize. Like he always does, but never delivers. “Don’t be like that,” he huffs. “I’m sorry. I was gonna ask for you to come with me if you’d rather put the grading on the back burner tonight.”
He moves to sit next to you, shirtless and still damp from the shower. “Or I could stay here,” he continues. “You’re right—we should be spending more time together.” He puts an arm around you, willing you to look at him.
You do and instantly, you feel tired. Tired of doing this dance. You try to talk about your needs, you argue, you get angry, you fight, you stop talking, he apologizes, and then it starts again.
“No,” you say. “Go ahead and go. I’ll be here when you come back.” Your husband furrows his brows at you. “You sure?” he asks and you kiss him to silence him, cupping his face. “Yes, my sexy lawyer husband. Now go and tell your work buddies about how good I looked tonight.”
You share a laugh, another kiss, and all is forgiven (at least to your husband, it is). You watch him get dressed and begin to get a head start on grading, pulling out your laptop and glasses while still in your dress. By the time he is ready to go, you’ve already finished grading two papers.
Once he leaves, you regret it. Your horniness rears its ugly head once you are alone. Your pussy throbs insistently in your panties, desperate to be touched. You know that nothing you do for it is going to work, so you take a shower instead. You strip off your dress, jump into the cold water, and wash off tonight. You even squirt on some perfume to make yourself feel better.
But nothing works. While in the shower, all you think about is being held against the wall and railed by your Mr. Long Dick.
So you try other remedies to distract yourself with: a glass of wine; more grading; watching TV; calling your folks to check on the kids, reading a book, etc. But nothing. Fucking. Works. All you can think about is sex. Specifically sex with your FWB. Finally sick of your shit, you give in to your urges and toss your book aside before reaching for your phone.
You scroll down to your contacts until you get to “Tarou 💙” (the blue heart added by him). You couldn’t even bring yourself to delete his number, too emotionally tied to the dick to do so. You decided to keep him on call just in case. You’re so glad that you did now.
Taking a deep breath, you hit his contact and bring the phone to your ears. After three rings go by, he picks up. The first thing he does is chuckle, the silky, sexy voice making your stomach flutter. “Well, this is unexpected,” he chortles. “I thought you weren’t ever gonna call me again. You told me last time was the last time.”
You bite your bottom lip, your heart thundering in your chest. “Things change,” you impatiently reply. “I need you over here now. Are you busy?” You get right to it, not wanting to lose your nerve.
Gojo pauses for a moment, obviously surprised by your random call. “Uh…no,” he finally answers. “Just with Geto and Shoko, but they can watch the rest of this movie without me. I’m guessin’ he’s gone?”
You grip the phone to your ear, swallowing your shame. “You know he’s gone.”
Once again, Gojo pauses, weighing his options. “I’ll be over in ten,” he says and you sigh in relief. “Leave the door unlocked.”
You hang up and immediately begin to prepare for your dick appointment, leaving your phone on the bed. You replace your shirt with a sexy, satin slip and slather on some body butter to make your skin silky and soft. You put on lipgloss and spray on more perfume. You pour yourself a glass of wine to relax yourself. Then you venture downstairs to sit and wait with the door unlocked.
As time passes, you begin to feel sick with shame and second guessing. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe you should call Gojo to go home.
But before you can get up to go back upstairs for your cell, you hear a knock on the door. Your blood pressure nearly shoots through the roof. “It’s me,” Gojo says through the door.
That makes your blood pressure even worse. “C-Coming,” you stammer. Slowly, you slink off of the couch and walk to the door. With a shaky hand, you grasp the doorknob and yank it open like you would yank off a band-aid.
And there he stands: six-foot something and looking sexy leaning against your doorway in a leather jacket, jeans, and white tee that is way too tight on his toned upper torso with a gold chain on his neck that you want to yank on and kiss him. He smiles at you, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Hey, you,” he greets you. “I’ve missed you.”
You feel your stomach flutter at the sight of him, the sound of his voice, and his scent. He always smelled so expensive and sweet from the combo of his cologne and body wash. “I’ve missed you too.” The words come out naturally.
Gojo smirks, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “Mmm, I bet,” he replies. At the sight of your frown, he laughs. “I’m kidding. Just wanted to see that sexy eye roll.”
“No jokes, please,” you sigh. “I feel worse even hittin’ you up again after I said I was done. Just come in before I change my mind about this.” You open the door further and let him come in before swiftly shutting the door. He walks into the empty living room, his hands in his pockets. He is quiet. Too quiet.
You don’t blame him for being awkward. It’s been a month since you’ve seen each other or talked. “How are the kids?” he finally asks. You nod, giving him a small, thankful smile for asking. “Good. They’re not here.”
He nods understandably though he didn’t ask. “Would you like a drink?” you ask, nodding at the bottle of wine sitting on your coffee table. “I’ve got juice, water…” He shakes his head, instead stripping off his jacket and placing it on his lap as he sits down.
He leans back against the couch, his long legs spread like the slut he is. “Come sit,” he says, patting the seat next to you. His inviting eyes and smile welcome you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. So you sit down next to him, thigh to thigh, the slight touch making you scream inside.
Gojo wriggles his hands, obviously thinking to himself. “Sooo I don’t know if this question is allowed, but why did you call me over tonight?” He glances at you questionably and you flush with shame. “You know why,” you quietly retort. “You just wanna hear me say it.”
Your student smirks playfully at you. “Can you blame a guy?” he chuckles. “A gorgeous woman hittin’ me up late at night would be any young guy’s fantasy.” You passively shrug, not wanting to be any young guy’s fantasy except his…for tonight, at least. “I’m guessin’ things didn’t go well with the hubby? I thought that dress would’ve worked on him too.”
You look at him, confused, and he sheepishly shrugs. “I may have seen your pics on IG,” he chuckles. “Sorry for bein’ a stalker.”
Though you should be irritated by this, you’re not. Maybe it’s your arousal clouding your judgment, but you find this hot. “He…tries,” you sigh. “But he doesn’t listen and that’s the problem. You do.”
Gojo’s eyes flash with something familiar: passion. Something that has been seriously lacking in your sex life and missing in your husband’s eyes. You turn to your student and fuck buddy, holding his eyes with yours. “Listen to me very carefully,” you firmly say. “Just to be clear, this is just sex. I need something and I’m sure you do too, so we’re just giving it to each other. This isn’t a relationship and I’m not leaving my husband for you.”
Gojo’s brows rise at this statement. “I didn’t think you would’ve,” he chuckles. “Honestly, I can’t see myself playing daddy to your kids though they are adorable.”
“This is the last time,” you continue. “You graduate uni in two weeks which means we’ll never have to see each other again. You fuck me, help me get my nut, and then you leave. No cuddling, no calling, none of that. My husband cannot find out you were here.”
It is the same as it has always been, except this time is the last time. It has to be.
“Am I understood?” you ask lowly. The handsome, young man cocks his head to the side, searching your face for something. You try to keep your face as firm as possible, needing him to understand how serious you are.
Finally, he gives you one of those charming smiles that get your knees weak. “Absolutely, miss,” he purrs. Relief floods your body and you immediately reach for your glass to down the rest of your wine. “Good,” you exhale. You lower the glass down and then turn to him, beaming.
“Now fuck me,” you quietly demand.
You don’t have to tell him twice. Immediately, he wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. You eagerly accept it, even crawling into his lap which he happily accepts by hooking your thighs over his to straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck like a koala bear and press yourself flush against him, your thighs open and your panties gliding against his fabric-covered cock that you feel is already hard.
Gojo has always been a good kisser. He has the softest, juiciest, pinkest lips you’ve ever kissed in your life. His kiss is slow and passionate yet sloppy. His tongue swirls with yours as you softly moan into each other’s mouths, appreciating the way you taste. His kiss is full of longing and yearning, his hands gripping your ass and thighs as they hike your slip over your hips.
You grind your pussy down into his hard-on, earning a moan of pleasure into your mouth. You pull away from him, staring down into his hooded eyes. “Upstairs,” you exhale. “Please.”
Quickly, Gojo wraps his arms around your waist and hikes you up against him before picking you up and carrying you upstairs to your bedroom. He knows the way like the back of his hand having been here many times before. When he walks in with you, he kicks the door shut with the back of the foot and walks over to the bed before tossing you down.
You giggle slightly as you bounce on the mattress right before he pounces onto you. He begins peppering your body in wet, soft kisses—your lips, your neck, your chest. You run your hands through his soft, white locks of hair, moaning and arching your back at his touch. “I still can’t believe you wanted to see me again,” he murmurs. “I swore you never wanted to talk to me again.”
You sit up and watch him slide down to his knees in front of you, peeling your slip up to reveal your naked breasts and panties. “That’s because you started talkin’ ‘bout me leaving my husband for you,” you breathlessly retort.
Your slip comes up and over your arms, discarded onto the floor. His blue eyes tick up to meet yours as he kisses your stomach, a brow raised. “Correction, miss,” he chuckles. “I said to date me. I never said you had to leave your husband. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
His hands reach up to grope your tits, gently molding and massaging them. As he does this, his teeth lightly nibble at your thighs while attempting to drag your panties down your legs. You moan at the feeling of his fingers pinching your nipples, the sensations making your back arch off of the bed. “Gojo, fuck,” you exhale.
He finally gets your panties off and drags them down your feet one after the other before giving you a cocky grin, your drawls hanging between his teeth. He then lets them fall and pushes your thighs open, biting his lip at the sight of your sobbing, wet cunt, so puffy and pretty for him.
“C’mon now, baby,” he whispers. “Why would I ask you to break up such a lovely marriage for me? Is my dick that good?” He leans in, pressing teasing kisses to your pussy lips and clit that cause sparks of pleasure to explode in your body, coursing through your muscles. “You really wouldn’t stay with your man and just date me?”
He looks up at you between your thighs, his long, white lashes fanning his cheeks. Suddenly, his tongue slithers out of his mouth to toy with your clit and all coherent thoughts and words are stolen from you. “N-N…Oh, fuck yes,” you moan, tilting your head back in ecstasy.
He chuckles, his hot breath making your cunt throb. “Guess I‘ll have to convince you a little more.” He suddenly sits up and yanks on your ankles, pulling you closer to him. “After all, it’s been a month since we’ve been together. We’ll have to make up for lost time.”
“God, Satoru!” You whine. “Just shut the fuck up and use your mouth on this pussy instead.”
He stares at you, shocked by your outburst, and then begins to laugh. “Someone’s eager,” he chuckles. “I like my women eager.” He stares back down at your pussy, tutting at the beautiful, brown rose petals of yours. “Aw, look at my girl,” he coos. “So wet…so lonely. Your hubby ain’t take his time with you tonight, huh?”
He leans in and begins finally tasting you, though his tongue strokes are slow and deliberate to tease you. Make you insane. You can feel yourself quickly becoming impatient, your body squirming for more. “Satoru,” you whimper.
He instantly stops and you realize your mistake when his sapphire eyes pierce into yours, as firm as his tone: “Sorry, who?” He asks, narrowing his brows at you.
You swallow hard, that forbidden name you only call him at the tip of your tongue. “Daddy,” you whisper. “Please just give it to me.”
A pleased smile stretches across Gojo’s lips and he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. “Gladly.”
And the man damn near dives into your pussy, slurping at your juices and sucking on your clit with his pillowy-soft lips. He alternates between swirling his tongue around your entrance while swiping his nose against your clit and sucking on your sensitive, little button, his hands pinning your thighs apart as far as they will go. You are losing it, your voice box turned on autopilot so your mouth makes whatever noises it feels like.
“God, yes, yes, yes!” You moan. “Right there, ‘Tarou, fuck, right there!” His hot tongue, tinged with cool metal from his tongue piercing, swirls about over your slit and pussy lips, making a mess of your pussy.
“Right there?” He teasingly asks. “Not right here, baby?” You then feel his finger gently probing you, slowly slipping inside of you and aimed upward to rub against the underside of your clit. “Ain’t you weak here?” He chuckles, his tongue still working its magic on your clit.
Your eyes roll back like you’re possessed as your thigh clamp around his head, desperate to keep him where he is. “Fuck,” you whine. “How the fuck are you so good at this?”
Gojo chuckles, feeling cocky and proud at his work. “Only for a needy pussy like this,” he hums. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this pussy.” He pauses to spit on your cunt, letting it drip with a copious amount of saliva before slurping it back up. “Obviously, she’s missed me too,” he chuckles. “Look how wet she is for me.”
He spits on you again, this time letting it drip down to your ass. You feel his tongue there, the hot, wet sensation making you gasp as his tongue travels from your asshole up to your pussy. “Satoru,” you whine. “Don’t be so nasty.”
His eyes twinkle at you, ever the mischievous man he is. “But you love me at my nasty, baby,” he pouts, his bottom lip poking out. “Don’t you?”
And then he shows you that yes, you do. You really fucking do. When he moves his hands under your ass to hold you up and eats your pussy like he would a bowl of spaghetti, you nearly lose your shit. You grip the sheets and shamelessly grind your hips against his mouth, riding his face as he finger fucks you and eats you out.
This is it. This is what you’ve been missing with your husband. This is what you needed. He listens to your words and your body, paying close attention to how you respond to his movements. He keeps gliding his finger in and out of you while he sucks your clit, quickly bringing you to your peak. Shit!” You gasp loudly. “Satoru, baby, you’re gonna make me cum!”
He pulls away from your clit only to command you to do so. “Do it,” he growls. “Give it to me, baby girl. Give me that fuckin’ cum.” His eyes lock with yours and you are suddenly put in a trance as you stare into his ocean blue gaze. “Let go for me,” he purrs, his words just as hypnotizing as his eyes. “I’ve got you now.”
And like a puppet on a string, you do as he commands. With a loud scream-like moan that echoes throughout the bedroom and would no doubt wake your kids if they were here, you cum all over Gojo’s mouth, squirting down his throat and on his pierced tongue. He greedily slurps it all up, teasing your sensitive pussy until he can feel it throb in your mouth, pleading with him to stop.
But he doesn’t. He makes it a point to continue to eat you out even through your orgasm, making it last longer than it should. Your back arches so hard that you’re afraid that it will snap. Your vision blurs, fat tears sticking to your lash line. Your words become slurred and jumbled as you beg Gojo stop: “S-Satoru,” you whimper. “Please…oh, fuck, please! S-Stop! I-I can’t…oh, I can’t…it’s too m-much.”
Fortunately for you, he finally stops and stands between your thighs, his chin and mouth glistening with your cum. He gently takes his finger out of you and sucks on it, staring into your eyes as he does. “Betcha man can’t make you cum like that, can he?” He breathlessly chuckles. He then raises his brow at you, a smirk on his lips. “You’re sure this can’t work between us?”
You ignore him, suddenly feral at the sight of seeing your juices glistening on his lips. Immediately, you sit up and cup his face between your hands before mashing your lips passionately with his, tasting yourself. You taste so good coming off of him.
Then you pull away and stare into Gojo’s twinkling, pussy drunk eyes. “Shut up and take off your clothes,” you growl. “Stand at the edge of the bed.” Once again, he doesn’t need you to tell him again.
With quick fingers, Gojo strips off his shirt, leaving his toned body up for your full indulgence while he works on his pants. The sound of his belt buckle loosening and his zipper coming down excites you, making your stomach and pussy flutter in tandem. A small, excited smile crosses your lips as you watch him strip, his arms, stomach, and pecs making your cunt clench around air.
After his socks and shoes are off and on the floor, off goes his underwear. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, he peels down his briefs and his long, thick cock slaps against his stomach. He is already dripping with precum for you, the pink head glistening with it.
Immediately, you crawl to him on your knees and wrap one hand around the base, noticing how much prettier your nails look wrapped around him. “Look at you, so hard for me,” you purr. “I’ve missed this pretty cock so much.” You begin to stroke him, pumping him up and down while using your other hand to gently massage his balls.
Gojo instantly reacts to your touch and furrows his brows in pleasure. “Ah, shit,” he hisses. “M’sensitive, baby.” You continue to touch him, pulling delicious whimpers and low moans out of you. You smile, feeling powerful and oh-so sexy. “Perfect.”
That’s another thing you love about Gojo: he isn’t afraid to let you take control. He is a big time switch—sometimes taking control of you, but also letting you take the reins and submitting to you. You can’t get enough of it. The power you feel making this beautiful man writhe and beg for you to make him cum is like a drug to you. Your husband would never even imagine doing this for you.
That’s why you give Gojo the best blowjob of his fucking life as a thank you. It is sloppy, passionate, and absolutely amazing judging by his facial expressions and the sounds he makes. He watches you suck and slobber eagerly on his cock while your hands pumps him up and down through slitted eyes, the sight almost too much for him. His moans are almost high-pitched and slutty, the sounds doing so many delicious things to you.
“Mmm, shit, Y/N, that’s good,” he groans. “Let me fuck your mouth already, c’mon.” His hands clench at his sides, desperate to grab your head and force his dick deeper down your throat. You pull away, narrowing your eyes at him. “Um…who?” You sharply ask.
He gnaws on his bottom lip, a blush on his cheeks. “M-Mommy,” he murmurs. “Please let me fuck your throat. I wanna be such a good boy for you.” Those are the magic words. The embarrassing words that your husband wouldn't even think of uttering.
You smile, pleased. “Okay,” you giggle. “Just don’t cum. Save all of that for me.” He nods, a delighted twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, miss.” You then take him back into your mouth and allow him to wrap a hand around your hair before he begins thrusting his hips and fucking your mouth.
With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper, his cock quickly filling up your throat. You accommodate to his girth and length by opening your throat up more, breathing through your nostrils as Gojo pumps away, using your mouth like he would a pocket pussy. You hold his hips and drag your nails down his toned thighs and stomach, indulging in his muscles.
The sounds coming from Gojo’s gorgeous, pink mouth are sluttier than you’ve ever heard them. He is loud and unashamed, his face screwed in pleasure and his white locks of hair sticking to his forehead. “Fuck, Mommy, m’gonna cum!” He gasps. “Have to…pull out!” Quickly, he does so, leaving you to breathe.
As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects from his cock head to your bottom lip that is coated in spit and pre cum. He begins to slowly stroke his cock, heavy and glistening in his hand, as you wiping your mouth and lick it off your hands. “Mmm, good boy,” you praise him. “You didn’t cum for me at all, but you did leave me a preview.”
Gojo is losing his self control, his hand quickly speeding up on his shaft. “Tell me what you want,” he begs. “Please or I’m about to fuckin’ bust.” You could easily watch him blow his load for you and get off just from that, but no. You want more. If this is the last time, you want to go out with a bang.
You sit up and place your hands on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Lay back and let me fuck you,” you whisper, taking a nibble of his ear. “I wanna ride you.”
As quick as a flash, Gojo jumps onto the bed and leans back, quickly getting into position. He spreads his thighs for you and aims his cock upward, right where you want it. Once you straddle him, he lets you take the reins while he holds onto your hips for balance. “Easy now, mama,” he coos. “Take it slow. You look so beautiful up there.”
You smile, his compliment making you feel warm all over. He never fails to make you feel gorgeous despite your body after your kids and your older age. You take a hold of his dick and begin to grind against it first, nudging it up against your pussy and between your slit.
Looking into his eyes, you slowly press the tip to your entrance and slide him in, emitting a gasp from the both of you. You don’t stop there. You do more, taking it inch by inch, grinding against him as you do. “God, Satoru,” you moan. “You’re so…so—“
”Big?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Thick? I know that’s how you like it, baby. Just take it slow. After all, this is the last time.” He holds your hips and stares up at you, locking your eyes with his. “Do what you want with me. I’m all yours, Mommy.”
And you do. You brace your hands on his chest and squeeze his pecs as you begin to slowly ride him, alternating between grinding and bouncing on top of him. You can’t describe the feeling you feel as you feel his cock plunge in and out of your body, disappearing and reappearing from between your thighs. “God, Tarou, yes!” You moan. “You’re so fucking good!”
Gojo watches you, ogling your jiggling tits and pretty face blissed out above him. You look down at him, watching him struggle to take you. You giggle, cupping his face in your hands. “Does it feel good, ‘Tarou?” You cooingly ask. “Is this pussy too much for you?” You roll your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit as you do.
The sight is too perfect for Gojo and he bites his lip, holding himself back from cumming right there. “Fuck, b-baby,” he moans. “You’re makin’ this so hard for me. Tryna…hold back…fuck!” He grips your hips tighter as you continue to ride him, quickening your pace.
It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to rise, making you ride Gojo’s cock like it’s stolen. “I’m gonna cum again,” you warn him through a gasp. “Want you to cum with me, ‘Tarou. Fill me up.”
Though Gojo is a moaning, whimpering mess underneath you from how good and tight your pussy is, he doesn’t cum. Instead, he grabs your ass the way you like and fucks you back, hitting that spot you love again and again. “Cum for me, Mommy,” he begs. “Please, please, please cum for me. Cum all over that cock.”
He begins to babble—“Please, pretty girl, gimme that cum, fuuuck, please, please”—and his words, soft pants, and moans tip you over the edge. You become aggressive, rolling your hips forward and back, Gojo’s hand now on your clit and working it until you finally cum. “Fuck, ‘Tarou, yes!” You whine as you finally reach your second orgasm, making his cock wet and sticky with your cum.
Your mind goes blissfully blank for a few seconds as your second nut courses through you, making you sink your nails into Gojo’s pectorals and slow your riding as you ride out your orgasm. When you look down at him, he stares up at you almost lovingly, his cock still hard inside of you. “You…didn’t…cum,” you gasp out.
He shakes his head, smiling. “No,” he states. “‘Cause I wanted to watch you first. I wanna finally cum inside you when I’m fucking you stupid…with your permission, of course.” His eyes flash with a fire that you know that only you can put out. You feel that same fire blaze within you.
Your need to be held down and fucked takes over, making you willing to take whatever Gojo gives you. You hold his gaze with yours, gently rolling your hips to persuade him further. “Then do it,” you demand. “Take me, put me however you want me, and fuck me, Satoru. I want you to take control this time.”
Those ocean blues darken and a devious, sexy smirk crosses his lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles and before you know it, you’re being flipped onto your stomach. Gojo slides off of the bed behind you and grips your ankles, yanking you all of the way to the beside toward him. You squeak and giggle as he does, loving his strength and how unafraid he is to be rough.
You immediately assume the position: hands and knees, your back arched and ass in his face. “So,” he says, his voice dipping an octave, “you want me to take control now, hm?”
Smack! His hand comes down onto your asscheek, making it jiggle. The sharp sensation makes you gasp, your toes curling at the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. “Such a nasty girl,” he sighs. “Gettin’ wet over one little spanking. You really are touch-starved, poor baby.” His hand slides down to massage your ass while his cock slides up against the puffy, wet lips of your pussy. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, his lips at your ear. “I’ll help you. Just do everything I say, okay, mama?”
Feeling his breath fan across your face and his cock slide against your slit makes you want to do anything he wants. And you will. You turn to him, staring at him over your shoulder the way he loves. “Yes, Daddy,” you whimper. “I will.”
That’s all Gojo needs to hear. After planting a kiss on your lips and another smack on your ass, he positions his cock and in one swift motion, slides back home inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” he moans while you let out a gasp, gripping the sheets below you. He doesn’t start off slow either. Instead, he gets right to it, pistoning his hips against your soft, jiggling ass with full intention of making you cum again.
“Fuck, ‘Tarou, sh-shit!” You moan, your knees and arms quickly becoming weak with the force of his thrusts. “Daddy, wait! D-Don’t…oh, fuck!…don’t go so fast! Ohh, my God!”
Gojo cackles at your pathetic stammering and babbling in between your moans and gasps as he drives himself into you again and again, gripping your hips so tight that his fingers dig into the fleshy parts of your ass. “Why?” He puffs. “I’m tryin’ to make you cum. And after all, we don’t know when your man will be home.”
He pauses mid-stroke to hike his leg up on the bed and continues to drive his cock into you, making your jaw fall slack at the deep angle. Every time he thrusts, his balls slap against your clit, filling your body with absolute pleasure. His hand swoops around your neck and squeezes, tight enough to make you feel restricted but not enough to cut off your breath.
“Or do you want him to come in and see you like this?” He teasingly asks. “You want your hubby to see you get this pussy stuffed by your side dick?” He tilts your head up by your neck, emitting a choked moan from you.
“I betcha do,” he giggles. “I bet you want to get caught with your boy toy…show your dude how a real man fucks a woman.”
Your eyes shut and you see your husband walking in under your lids. His expression is written in shock and horror as he watches Gojo pound into you, his wife, from behind, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. You hate to admit it, but the idea of that makes you even wetter.
Gojo continues with that breakneck, agonizing pace, alternating between fast, short pumps and long, slow strokes that make you see stars. His other hand leaves your hip to rub your clit while he continues to choke you, moaning about how pretty you look for him getting railed by his cock.
You feel your third orgasm rising, your pussy tightening around his dick while that knot in your core begins to tighten as well, signaling your end. “Yes, ‘Tarou!” You cry out. “Fuck, m’almost there! I’m almost—“
Your words are cut off when Gojo suddenly stops, putting an end to the symphony of moans and skin slapping against skin. You look over your shoulder at him, confused. “W-Why’d you stop?” You pant. The white-haired hottie smirks at you. “Because I wanna see your pretty face when you cum,” he answers.
He then flips you over onto your back and slides between your thighs, standing between them. Without waiting for you to give him permission, he slides into you again and tosses your leg up, your painted toes pressed against his hard chest. His thrusts now are slow, long, and deep, his cock stroking your pussy walls and making you arch your back.
Your mouth falls open, soft moans and gasps leaving your lips that Gojo relishes. He can’t believe how good you look taking him, your soft titties bouncing and your pussy sliding up and down his dick. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he pants. “Your man is so fuckin’ lucky to have you all the fuckin’ time. What the fuck is wrong with him?”
You think he’s pretty too. His face is flushed and glinting in sweat, his white locks sticking to his forehead. His eyes are dazed with lust and pleasure as he stares down at you taking his cock so well, his brows furrowed as if he’s in pain. You’ve never seen him look prettier than now, completely pussy drunk off of you.
“Fuck me, ‘Toru,” you beg, tossing your arms over your head to grip the sheets. “Fuck me and make us both cum. Do it like you won’t do it ever again.”
Gojo shifts into another mode immediately. It’s like your plea has pushed some button inside of him that makes him shift into a setting where he is merciless, pounding into you with every intention of either A. Making you cum or B. Breeding you with his baby. Or both.
You bounce and jiggle on the bed as he fucks you silly, making the bed creak and moan underneath you. He looks so good on top of you, his white locks hanging in his face, his blue eyes dark and blown with lust. “Really though,” he growls. “What the fuck is wrong with your man to not fuck you like this every night, hm? Why does he neglect such a perfect slut like you?”
He pauses to turn you on your side, hooking your knees to your chest before grabbing your ass and drilling your shit from the side. You are a hot mess—moaning, gasping, crying out for more, your hair unkempt, your skin coated in sweat, and your thighs dripping with your juices and Gojo’s pre-cum, making your pussy a lot sloppier than before and easier for him to fuck as much as he wants to.
“But that don’t better,” he continues. “Because I’m your man now. I’ll fuck you like this any time, any day you want, baby.”
He gives your ass another smack as he continues to fuck you. “You know you want this,” he says, a smirk on his face. “You know that I’m the one for you, Y/N. You know you want me…you’d even want my baby.”
Your loud moaning pauses as his words process. You look up at him, not sure if he’s playing or not. “W-What?” You gasp.
Ding!
You turn your head to look at your phone sitting beside you. You stretch one arm across the bed to grab it, but Gojo beats you to it. While still stroking your shit, he reads the notification and his brows raise. “Huh,” he says. “Looks like your baby daddy is home. He just pulled in.”
“What?!” You shriek, your words breathless and broken as your fuck buddy continues to put you into th mattress like your husband isn’t home. “Gojo, he’s back! H-He’s in the driveway!” You try to push him off, but he pins you down, tossing your phone aside. He goes faster, harder, using your pussy like he would a fleshlight.
He has never gone this hard or this fast before, gripping your ass and hips so tightly that you’re sure he’ll leave bruises. ”What are you doing?” You attempt to ask.
“Don’t move,” he demands. “I need you to cum with me first.” He leans down to press his face into your ear, rutting into you like a wild animal. You grip his back and shoulders for dear life, holding on tightly and moaning into his ear while you sneak a hand between your thighs to furiously rub your clit. “God, ‘Toru, yes!” You moan. “Fuck, right there, ah!”
“You’re mine,” Gojo pants into your ear. “You’re all fuckin’ mine, you understand me?”
Even in the haze of pleasure and above your mingled moans, you can hear the sound of your husband’s car door opening outside and him chatting with the neighbor. Fear bursts inside of your stomach, somehow making your pussy clam tighter around a feral Gojo. “Satoru, please!” You beg. “He’s coming!”
“So am I,” he groans. “But not until you do. Tell me what I wanna hear and I’ll make you cum, pretty girl. Look into my eyes and tell me you wanna be mine.” He leans up to stare down at you, his blue eyes transfixing and hypnotizing you as his giant hands knead your tits and ass.
You stare at him in horror. You want to cum, yes, but to do that, you’d have to tell him everything he wants to hear. Therefore, ruining your marriage and your vows…but then again, you already did that. “N-No!” You shout, delirious.
Gojo frowns and immediately slows down, his thrusts shallow and slow. “No, you don’t wanna cum?” He asks. That devious tinkle in his eye is there as he continues to slowly fuck you, teasing you.
A choked hiccup leaves your mouth, tears wetting your eyes. You can’t take this. This is torture. So you swallow your pride and let yourself break: “Goddammit!” You sob. “I want you, ‘Tarou! I wanna be yours! I’ll be your baby, your slut, your girl! I’ll be whatever you want me to be! Just make me cum!”
A wide, gigawatt smile crosses Gojo’s handsome face. “Good girl,” he chuckles. “Now give me that fuckin’ pussy.” He grips you and speeds up his thrusts, putting his whole back into it, his cock drilling your wet cunt over and over and over again until…
”Cumming!” You whimper. “I-I’m gonna cum!” Gojo’s lips part as he pants and groans at the feeling of you squeezing around him. He leans down, wrapping a hand around your throat. “Kiss me,” he demands. Without waiting for you to do so, he leans in and captures your lips in a sloppy, moan-filled, open-mouthed kiss.
Instantly, you are creaming all over his cock, his kiss swallowing your moans and gasps of release as your body tenses and writhes in his arms. With a few more thrusts and a high-pitched moan, Gojo empties himself into you, a stream of cum leaving his heavy balls and entering you hot, wet pussy, making you quiver and tremble against him. The orgasm is tense and dizzying, stealing your sense of self for a moment.
You then hear your husband’s footsteps click against the brick walkway outside to the front door. Suddenly, you are brought back to reality and to the man you just let fuck you raw that isn’t your husband, but your student.
You don’t get a chance to say anything though because Gojo gently slides his cock out of you. You look down, realizing that he’s still hard. He wraps a hand around himself and begins to vigorously pump his cock in your face, his hand turning into a flash with how fast he’s going. “Not yet,” he growls. “Gimme that pretty face. I want my nut all over that gorgeous mug.”
You don’t say a word and you don’t even move. You can’t. Your body is too exhausted to do so that you just lay there, helplessly watching Gojo jerk himself off in front of you, his pretty face screwed in pleasure and his lips pressed together in concentration. “Thaaat’s it,” he hisses. “That’s my good girl.”
And with a low groan, Gojo gives you a second orgasm, sending ropes of his cum all over your face and mouth. Your lips part in shock, causing some droplets to get onto your tongue. Some also fly onto your stomach, tits, and ass, coating your skin in cum. His cum. You can smell him all over you, marking you as his.
Gojo sighs in relief, his muscles loosening and a light chuckle leaving his lips. He releases his cock, soft and coated in your mixed cum, and tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Now that was a nut,” he whistles. You don’t say anything, still too exhausted to do so.
Jingle-jingle.
You hear your husband’s car keys and then the lock on the door clicking open. You gasp, immediately sitting up and looking at the closed bedroom door. Both you and Gojo look at each other, panicked. “Shit,” you say in unison.
“Honey, I’m home!” Your husband shouts. “I bought you back something!” Like fire has been lit under your ass, you jump off of the bed while Gojo grabs his clothes, hurrying to put them on. “U-Uh, wait, baby!” You shout. “I-I need to get dressed!”
You yank your slip off of the floor and toss it in the hamper beside your closet, unseen and unheard of. You turn to Gojo hurrying to get dressed, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. “Hide under the bed,” you whisper. “I’ll distract him and then you leave.”
Gojo nods and Quickly, you dress into a T-shirt and some gym shorts, checking to make sure all traces of sex are gone, including the nut on your face (thank God you keep baby wipes in your night drawer). You even take your laptop and glasses back out to make it seem as if you were working this entire time. Once everything looks okay, you fix your hair and walk to the bedroom door to greet your husband.
But with your back turned, Gojo makes no move to actually get under the bed.
Too late to realize this, you open the door and smile up at your husband back from a night out. “Hi, honey,” you sweetly say. “How was the party?”
He gives you a smile and takes something from behind his back: a bouquet of colorful, sweet-smelling flowers. “I bought you these,” he says. “I wanted to apologize for…Gojo?”
His eyes trail behind you to meet the young man standing behind you. You turn, horrified to find your fuck buddy still standing there but fortunately dressed. “Hey there, sir!” He politely greets your husband like he didn’t just fuck his wife stupid in their marital bed. “Sorry to show up like this. I had to drop off a last-minute assignment to Ms. L/N and she invited me over with no problem.”
He walks over to shake your husband’s hand like his wasn’t just spanking your ass or wrapped around your throat. “Oh,” your husband says. “Well, I hope everything is worked out now.” He returns Gojo’s handshake. “Oh, it is!” He answers. “Isn’t it, Ms. L/N?”
You feel his hand sneak behind you to grab a handful of your ass. You bite back a squeak, instead forcing a smile. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer. “Everything’s fine now.”
Your husband doesn’t look the least bit suspicious which makes things worse. “Well, good!” He says with a smile. Gojo drops his hand from your asscheeks and gives you both a smile. “I’ll be taking my leave now,” he announces. “Thanks again for your help, Professor. I really appreciate it.”
Unbeknownst to your hubby, he shoots you a wink and walks past you to exit the room. You can feel the walls that had begun to close in on you begin to widen a bit, making you feel like you can breathe again, until—
“Oh, Gojo!” Your husband says, stopping the young man in the hallway. “You can look for me at the graduation ceremony. I look forward to seeing you at the firm.”
You blink at him, confused. “Firm?” You cluelessly ask. “What firm?” Your husband and Gojo stare at you, making you flush. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?” He questions. Gojo gives him a smile and a playful laugh. “I was gonna let her know at the ceremony.”
“Gojo recently got a full-time job at my firm and he’ll be working in my department!” Your husband joyfully states, passing you the flowers. “He starts next month in June with the training. He is quite an intelligent young man, so we intend on keeping him.” He shoots Gojo a proud smile, but your student is too busy smiling at you.
This smile isn't’ at all nice though. It is devilish, almost as if the devil has jumped into Gojo’s bones. “That means you’ll be seein’ an awful lot of me around,” he deviously says. “I’ll see you soon, miss.”
And as he turns to leave, you see in his back pocket your soiled panties.
You watch him go, standing there with your husband's flowers and your student’s cum still dripping down your thighs. ‘Oh, no,’ you lament to yourself. ‘What have I done?’
“Uh, sweetie?” Your husband’s voice drifts to your ears, sounding almost far away. “Why is the bed all wet? Did you take a shower?”
In my eyes love is just a meaningless act. A desperate act of wanting to feel as though you are special. One of a kind maybe. Love is for those who are weak, those who know not how to stand on their own two feet and push forward. Love is for attention seekers, for those who had hope that someone will love them. And I guess that is the reason you stayed in this relationship.
This relationship had you weeping, soaking the pillows with these unwanted tears. Love is the reason you allowed yourself to be trapped here. And even if you allowed yourself to be free, you were still trapped here, because he wouldn't let you go. He wouldn't let you go because he loved you too.
But you often wonder how someone can hurt the ones they love. What's the purpose? Do they even have a purpose to be hurting the ones they love?
You wanted to know, you wanted to know the reason why he treats you as if you're nothing but a trophy for him to flaunt in front of everyone to have them thinking as if everything was alright between you both when everything was not.
You wanted to know the reason why he posted pictures of you on Instagram, informing everyone of the love he had for you and yet still he'll go and do what wanted to do behind your back.
The reason for him to have you pressed against the bed while his cock work its way up in your guts, fucking you into oblivion, and then the next day, he had his cock in something else.
What's the point of telling you that he loves you and he'd never do anything to hurt you, but the next day he'll sit across from you in front of the kitchen island and watch as you cry your eyes out because he's not faithful towards you.
What was the whole point of the ring? The ring you wore proudly in the daytime but cries silently over in the night?
The answer is simple. It's because of love.
The one thing you wish you didn't have was the love you had for him despite everything he put you through.
You developed a drinking habit because of him.
And it was love that let him keep you in this marriage even if he's out hurting you even though he did not want to. He loved you and it would pain him to see his beautiful wife walk out of his life.
But he was pushing you there, it was coming. And he never saw it, but you did.
And all it took was one visit to the doctor's office that made you realise that you had to leave this marriage, even if it was going to be hard, you had to go.
...
You took a long sip from the mug you held in your hand, eyes closed as you savoured the bitter liquid in your mouth. Just how you like it, sweet as it enters your mouth and bitter as it passes down your throat, just like your marriage. Fucking bittersweet.
You took another sip as you walked past the mirror, stopping to look at your reflection. You saw it. It was too obvious and yet still you didn't want to admit it. She sighed, staring at the large bags under your eyes, your cracked lips, and your sunken cheeks. A look you grew accustomed to for a while now since this is what you look like even with makeup on.
The drunken look of a broken woman.
Life with him was just that terrible.
You sip from your cup again, swallowing the red liquid before you force a smile on your lips. It almost hurt once you felt your jaws stretched to form a decent smile.
How long has it been since you had a genuine smile on your face? You didn't know and you didn't want to remember because it will only drag you deeper into depression.
You sipped more and your head started to feel a bit hazy, and just then you could hear the sound of the doctor's voice inside your head whispering, if I were you I would stop drinking right now.
Fuck that, you drink as much as you wanted, even though you knew that you had to stop drinking if you were going to take on the new challenge, another wave of depression in your life.
Something that you didn't plan for. But you had to accept it because the doctor said so.
You cursed as you walked away from the mirror and made your way towards the kitchen and around the kitchen island to sit at your usual spot. You placed your mug on the island top and picked up the bottle of wine that you bought just the other day and poured more for yourself.
This was your routine now and it's getting worse, but you didn't care because this was the only way to suppress your emotions, even though you know that once you had your fill, you will be on your knees, your hands on the toilet and your throat will burn when the 'waste your fucking life away' comes back up your throat and into the toilet, leaving your throat raw and your mouth tasteless.
You sighed heavily as you glanced at the clock that hung lazily over the fridge inside the kitchen, the little hand was on 2 and the big hand was on 6. Two-thirty in the morning and he is still not home.
Well what did you expect, this was his routine. Oh how fucking lucky you would be if he decided that he wanted to walk through the door. You slowly sipped on your wine as you took a look at the beautiful pink glass vase that you own that was filled halfway with water. And you drunkenly chuckled as you lifted your finger and traced the designs that were on it. You knew what was going inside the vase, you were just waiting for it.
And laid neatly before the vase were two envelopes, one large and thick and the other one small and thin. It was a small present for him. And you wanted to give him this present because that would be the last present he received from you.
Well, maybe depending on what he does with these first.
So as you waited you continued to sip on your bitter sweet wine.
...
Walking down the corridor of the apartment complex that you shared with your loving husband, his hasty heavy footsteps could be heard approaching the front door of the apartment all the while he had his phone pressed tightly against his ears.
"Baby, please come back, I'm lonely," the woman cried. He chuckled as he continued to listen to the voice of another woman that wasn’t his wife begging for him to come back to her.
"No Utahime, I have been with you for the past two days. I need to be home with my wife now," he answered as he slowly approached the front door.
Utahime sighed heavily, probably even rolling her eyes before she spoke, "I am getting tired of hearing that one excuse you have, Gojo. Why do you always abandon your wife for so many days to be with me, but when I ask you to stay for another few days, you are so quick to leave? When are you going to stop playing games with me, Satoru? Wouldn’t it be easier for us if you file for a divorce just so that you could be with me."
He groaned in frustration as he stood in front of his door. He was getting really tired of listening to Utahime yapping about his relationship with you. "That will never happen," he reminded her of something he told her long before they started to sleep with each other.
"Why?" Utahime asked in a soft tone.
He sighed as he dug around in his pocket for his house key. "Y/N is my wife and I love her,"
“Stop lying Satoru,” she hissed at him.
“Why would I lie?” he asked as he pulled the key from his pocket and inserted it inside the keyhole.
“Because you have the ability to. I mean Satoru, if you love your wife so much, then why do you always abandon her to come fuck me? Shouldn’t you be fucking her instead?”
He chuckled as he twisted the key in the hole. “Go to bed, Utahime. I’ll see you soon, maybe on Monday. I want you to keep that pussy warm for me until then,” and that was his last few words to her before he hung up. He sighed heavily as he pushed his phone into his back pocket while he stared down at the flowers that he was holding onto in his hands.
He slowly entered the apartment, shortly after he opened the door and then he accidentally slammed it shut. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath after he just realised that he might have woken you up, but to his surprise when he entered the room he saw you there stumbling over your own feet as you struggled to pour the wine inside your mug.
You had your ear pods inside your ears, so he figured that you didn’t hear when he walked in.
He sighed heavily as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and hung it on the coat rack. "Get up on the floor dancing to the break of dawn..." you slurred as you drunkenly spun around with the mug still in your hand and tears streaming down your face.
He sighed as he slowly walked over to you, his hand clutching the flowers tightly. As you continued to dance, drinking as you did so, until you felt when the cup was being pulled out of your hand.
Your eyes shot open and you saw your husband standing in front of you with a disappointed look on his face. "Give that back to me," you hiccupped as you tried taking the cup from him. But like always he refused to do so. Instead, he drank what was left inside your cup.You watched as his nose scrunched up in disgust as he swallowed the rest of the bitter tasting liquid.
He placed your mug on the counter along with the flowers before he pulled the earpods from your ears and placed them on the counter as well, then he went across to his usual spot around the kitchen island. His eyes glanced up at the clock and saw that it was 3:00 am. "It's way too early for you to be drinking honey, you should be asleep."
He knew you developed a habit of drinking over time to "suppress" your emotions. He knew you drank because of him, and even though he tried to stop you, he'd always come back to find you with a mug or even a bottle at your lips.
You were still standing when he picked up the flowers and walked towards you.
As you expected, he bought more flowers for you. This was his way of apologising to you and you were getting sick of it.
As he was about to pass the flowers to you, you pointed at the vase on the counter. He looked behind him and saw the vase and he sighed as he went over to the counter and put the flower inside the vase himself. He ignored the envelope that was leaning against it and walked over to you, his wife who was still standing in the middle of the room.
He tried wrapping his arms around you, but you pushed him away and went towards the counter and sat down in your usual spot. He already expected that you were going to do something like that, but at least had to try. He sighed heavily as he sat in front of you around the kitchen island.
He watched with heavy eyes as you picked up the bottle and turned it towards your lips. Just a little more and these feelings would disappear, you thought to yourself as you took large gulps from the bottle.
You got up again and walked towards him. He spread his legs for you and allowed you, his beautiful drunken wife to stand in between his legs. He swallowed thickly as he watched as you traced the outline of his turtleneck sweater before dragging it down to look at what you knew was there. You felt your eyes water as you touched with your fingers, feeling how swollen they were. "Pussy that good?" You asked as you continued to touch the swollen marks on his neck.
He didn't respond, instead he pulled your hand away from his sweater and threaded his fingers with your. He kissed your knuckles as he locked into your eyes while you continued to speak. "Her pussy so fucking good, you just had to stay huh? I should have known. I should have known that you were too tired of fucking my old pussy, so you had to leave and get fresh ones."
He sighed heavily while shaking his head at you. What kind of nonsense was this? He knew that you knew that whatever it is that you are saying is not true. You knew how much he love and adores that fucking pussy of yours. Even better than the girls he sleeps with.
Even better than Utahime’s, his mistress.
He huffed as he snatched the bottle from you. He slammed on the counter, almost breaking the bottle before he grabbed your other hand and pulled you towards him. You almost stumbled against him as he spoke, "You know that's not true."
You hissed your teeth as you pulled away from his grips. You then grabbed the bottle of wine again before stumbling away from him. Your body felt weak, you felt as if you were about to hit the floor, and despite the nauseating feeling that settled at the pit of your stomach, you held your balance.
And he just watched you as you took another swing then drunkenly slurred, "Hm, it's not then why do you do it?" It's a question you got so tired of asking, even when you promised yourself you wouldn’t ask anymore, you did it anyway.
His eyes fluttered shut for a second and he slowly sighed before he stood up from the counter and followed behind you.
“Why do you sleep around with all those women? Why Satoru, why do you do it? Am I not good enough for you?” You asked him yet again, but he kept quiet. “Why Satoru? Why do you fuck around with them especially that scarred face one you sneak around with all the time? What he fucking name? Utahime? Yeah that bitch.”
He watched you drink more of your wine before falling over your own feet this time and you almost hit the floor, but lucky for you he was close enough to hold onto you. You drunkenly chuckled as he held your arm and he tried taking the bottle from you.
You pulled away from him another time, before walking away.
He hated when you drank this much because of him. "Honey please stop drinking," he begged as he watched you walk away from him with a bottle that turned.
"Why should I?" You asked as you drank more. "Do you stop having sex wit all those women when I ask you too? No, you don’t. So why should I?”
He only shook his head at you and you, you laughed then drank a bit more. As you swallow the wine, you quickly hold onto your belly. Your tummy hurts so badly, you could feel the painful knots forming in the pit of your stomach. And it wasn't long before you felt everything coming back up your throat and you quickly dashed towards the kitchen to puke your guts out in the sink.
Your husband was already at your side, rubbing your back, while he held up your hair as you continued to puke. His eyes watered because he knew he did this to you. But you, you laughed again after you stopped puking and then you made the attempt to put the bottle inside your mouth.
"Honey," he shouted as he snatched the bottle from your hands and tossed it across the living room. You screamed as you watched the bottle shatter to pieces and what little wine that was left inside the bottle stained the white carpets. "That's enough baby, no more please."
You smacked him in his chest and you tried walking away from him, but he pulled you back. "Let me go. Don't touch me." But he refused to let you go, so he wrapped his arms tightly around your body and held you firmly against his chest.
He felt his heart clenched when he realised that you lost a lot of weight. He slightly pulled away from you and stared at your face, and his eyes watered even more. His beautiful wife was almost a skeleton, with your cheek so sunken far in and her lips cracked, your eyes were even sunken with large dark circles and heavy bags. You looked this way because of him and he felt so bad.
But he can't control himself, he just loves women and pussy. He loves you the best. No he loves you alot, but he wasn’t ready to give up everything just to settle for one, even though he was married, he wasn't ready to settle for one, when he could have as many as he wanted.
And looking at you now, he knew that once you were all sobered up and everything went back to normal. He would be gone again and the cycle would repeat itself. He truly loves you, he tells you every chance he gets, but he loves you so much, he can’t help himself, he has to hurt you. "No more drinking honey," he whispered.
But you hissed and the anger you were trying so hard to suppress started to boil in your veins. You could feel your skin heating, as rage finally and you screamed. "No, not until you stop hurting me," you cried. He said nothing but he wasn't going to let you walk away. He held you in place as you continued to scream at his face. "What the fuck did I ever do to you for you to be hurting me like this?"
"Nothing! I’m sorry, honey," he whispered as he held you tighter.
You got even more furious with him, sorry was not going to cut this. "You're not fucking sorry, because if you were even just a bit sorry ...hiccups... then you would've ...hiccups... stopped by now." He knew you were telling the truth, he was sorry but he wasn't entirely sorry.
When you got no answer from him you clenched your fist together and you began to hit his chest repeatedly. "Why do you keep hurting me? Why?" You screamed even louder. He stared down at your face and said nothing as you continued hitting his chest. "Stop fucking hurting me! Stop it. I can't take this anymore. Fucking..." and he quickly shut you up with a kiss and silenced your screams.
You didn't know why but you kissed him back and he hummed. You tasted so bitter and raw, but he kissed you anyway because you were his wife and he did this to you. But the kiss didn't last long because you pulled away and slapped him across his face before you stepped away from him.
He rested his hand upon his cheek. He knew he deserved more than just a slap. He watched as you held your head with one hand and your belly with the other as you walked towards the kitchen island. Your head was still a bit hazy.
You picked up the large, thick envelope from the counter and you walked towards him. You shoved it into his chest before walking away. He stared down at the envelope confused as to what it was, but he was left in shock when you spoke these last words before entering the bedroom.
"Sign the divorce papers. I need a divorce."
...
Skin slapped against the skin. Another knot formed in your lower abdomen, his fingers rubbing your clit as another orgasm washed over you. A scream was ripped from you when your pussy clenched around his length, your love juice dripping down the sides of his cock as he continued to penetrate your walls.
"Gimme one more," he demanded, his hand gripped the back of your knees as he folded your legs against your chest and he thrust deep inside you again. You sob out his name, feeling helpless and overstimulated beneath him, you almost regret handing him those divorce papers. It's the reason why he made you cum four times already with his cock thrusting fast and hard inside your bruised cunt.
Your tits felt heavy,and your neck was filled with his angry bite marks and hickeys. He was marking you, he was reminding you that you’re his and there is no chance, not even in hell that he was going to sign those papers.
You moaned, finger clawing into the sheets, the headboard knocking at the wall from his harsh thrust, and your poor little cunny fluttered around his cock, more love juices running on the inside of your thighs. He pressed his wet lips against your neck, his teeth once again sinking into your tender skin. “Who the fuck do you think you are? How dare you hand me those fucking papers? Where the fuck do you think you’re going, honey?” he muttered against your neck as he continued to abuse your quivering hole.
You whined as you squeezed your eyes shut and a single tear ran down your cheek, "Ugh... I.."
He chuckled, watching as you tried forming a proper sentence but you were unable to. Fuck, you were a mess. His beautiful mess. It was the way how your mouth hangs open and you're drool dripping down your chin. Your cheeks are stained with the tears you cried from the many orgasms he gave you. He'd be damned to give this site up to someone else.
His lips were on your cheek, licking away your salty tears and then he whispered, "Fuck those fucking papers. You're not going anywhere." He sucked on your jaw, leaving yet another bruise on display. "You're mine Mrs. Gojo. Don't forget that. You are fucking mine, honey.” Your back arches from the bed, the knot forming in your stomach again, you were close, he was close too.
Neither of you exchanged words, only the sounds of your moans, whines and his heavy breathing, skin slapping against each other and the bed creaking. Your pussy gushed around his length and his thrust began to stutter, he kissed your lips, pushing his body flush against yours. He let go of your knees and one hand went to thumb with your clit and you came. Hard.
Your body trembled, your pussy clamped around his length and his hips still as he pumped his seed into your soppy hole. "Fuck those papers, you’re staying with me."
...
You laid curled into a foetus with your back turned towards him. He had his hand wrapped around your waist, rubbing your belly as he hummed in your ears. Your body trembled in his hands as he laid there and listened as you cried. He knew he was the reason for your tears, but at this moment he could care less about your tears. He had you in his arms and all he wanted to do was sleep, knowing that you were there.
As he kept rubbing your belly, his brows dipped a bit. Something felt off. Your belly felt larger than usual. He'll ask you about it later, but now he just laid there and listened as you cried still.
Love was the reason why you lay here with the man who broke you into a million pieces. The man who held you captive, and even when you cried for freedom, it felt as if he added more shackles to your broken body. He loves you and he has no intentions of letting you. But if only he knew that the divorce papers that he ripped a while ago weren't the only copy.
He was in for a big surprise when he woke up later on in the afternoon.
Can I request a yandere! Gojo with a s/o who's in an arranged marriage with him? Like they were engaged since birth and was believed to get married someday ever since? Thank you 😊😊🙌💞💕
• as a child, when gojo was first handed a photo of you with one of his elders saying that this is his future wife who he is engaged to, he was ecstatic
• he found you cute
• and everyday and night, gojo would stare at your photo
• when he couldn't find it, he'd cry and pull tantrums until the maids were given the responsibility in finding it for him
• when the developed photo has been found, gojo can finally sleep peacefully while holding onto your photo
• growing up, he longed to see and be near you
• he really didn't like the idea of someone else not him being close to you
• by the time he turned eighteen, gojo could not wait for the day he'll be able to see you
• and the first time he sees you, he was over the moon
• "cute and innocent looking" he thought to himself
• however, you on the other hand, was never pleased with the idea of being engaged to a random stranger you barely knew
• "please don't get too close to me. you don't love me at all and we are only getting married to please our elders, correct?"
• gojo stared at you for a good minute before letting out a low chuckle
• cute, innocent looking and stupid - just how he likes it
• "that's not how you talk to your fiance, y/n-chan! after all, we are engaged, and this ring will bind us together forever"
Strawberry ice cream with sardines was your favourite. You honestly thought that you would’ve gotten sick of its taste, but surprisingly, you were able to consume it along with a few other weird cravings.
Your ex-husband sat and watched with his nose scrunched up just a bit, his sharp canines stabbing his lip as he watched you swallow the next spoonful of ice cream with a bit of sardine on top.
“You know if you continue to consume so much sardine, our baby will end up smelling like one,” he stated as he snatched the tin from the table and tossed it behind him in the trash bin inside the room he got for you inside the Gojo’s Estate.
You rolled your eyes at him; you rested one hand on your stomach as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Are you ok?” he asked you.
“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just the minor pains that I’ve been feeling since yesterday,” you responded as you sent him a small smile.
“Contractions?” he asked.
“Yeah, but it's not that bad,” you answered.
He drew in a sharp breath as he glanced at his watch. He had to leave you now; he had an important business meeting that he needed to attend. However, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave to go attend a meeting that he could reschedule to be held another day. You were at full term now it was expected of you to be giving birth to your son soon enough.
He wanted to be by your side when that happened. But, he also had to remember that he needed to give you the space you needed since you both weren’t in a relationship anymore.
He sighed heavily as he glanced over at you before standing up from his seat. He took small strides towards you and slowly rested a hand on your tummy. “I’ll have to leave now. You need to call me if anything comes up. Ok?”
You sent him on his way when you flicked your wrist idly at him. You were going to be fine, he didn’t need to be worrying about anything. The house workers were here to help get through the day, you had the food that you needed for the day.
You were going to be fine, or so you thought.
(Around noon…)
“I get what you mean, however, where do you see sales trending in the next 6 months, or 12-24 months?” he asked as he lifted the paper to his face to read over the plan that was presented to him.
“We haven’t thought about that as yet sir?” A middle-aged man spoke. Gojo raised his brow and folded his lips between his teeth.
“Is that so?” he asked as he rested the paper on the desk. “I need to know the answer to my question. I need to be able to see what the opportunities are and also if I am willing to take this risk with you.” The men and women that were all present at the meeting looked over at the 24-year-old in shock when he spoke again. “I do not want to invest my money, I don’t want to invest my company in this business plan unless I get a clear answer.”
“Mr. Gojo, if you could please just look over the plan and consider what opp…”
“There is nothing to consider unless I get an answer,” Gojo sternly answered as he passed the paper onto the one who gave it to him. “Don’t take my words so harshly. You presented a good business plan and it’s good for marketing. But as an investor, I need to know…”
Gojo's sentence was cut short when his phone started to ring in his pocket. He sighed heavily as he held up his pointer finger to pause the meeting before pressing the button on his Bluetooth earpiece to answer his phone.
“Gojo speaking,” he answered.
A whining sound of a female echoed in his ears, followed by a soft whispering of his name, “Satoru?”
Only one woman can whisper his name like that. After hearing her voice whispering his name while expressing many different emotions, so many times. He immediately knew who called him. “Hon- I mean Y/N is everything alright?”
He listened as you took a few deep breaths before you spoke, “My water… my water. It broke Satoru.”
“Shit,” he whispered under his breath as he abruptly stood from his seat. “Nanamin, I have got to go.” His assistant Nanami Kento sighed heavily as he watched Gojo start to pack his things inside his briefcase. “I’m putting you in charge for today. I have a meeting at 3 and another one scheduled for 6.”
“Gojo, you know I don’t have time for your…” Nanami began but he was cut off by Gojo.
“My ex-wife is about to give birth to our child. I need to get to her now. Please Nanami, I’ll pay you extra.”
“Go on then, I’ll quickly wrap up this meeting, and congratulations,” Nanami said and Gojo smiled while mumbling a quiet thanks.
“I’ll be on my way,” Gojo said as he walked outside his conference room. “Y/N, are you still there?” he asked. His question was answered with a slight whine and he hummed in satisfaction. “I’ll get there soon. Did you get in contact with the OB-GYN and the midwives?” he asked as he hurriedly walked inside the open elevator.
“Mhm, they’re here already. You just oh god contractions…” he listened as you groaned in pain while wishing that the elevator would go down faster just so he could be there to comfort you during this vulnerable time.
“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”
He stayed with you on the call for the entire ride back to the estate. He arrived at his house in less than twenty minutes, and as soon as he parked his car, he rushed inside the house while stripping himself from his jacket.
“I’m here Y/N,” he said to you through the phone before hanging up. He quickly made his way towards your chambers and once he was inside, tears immediately welled up in his eyes when he saw you sitting up on the bed with one hand on your stomach as you tried to focus on your breathing. “Y/N.”
“Oh dad you’ve made it just in time,” your OB-GYN said to Gojo with a smile gracing her lips. “Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and then get back here.”
“B - but she’s gonna have the b - baby…” he stuttered as he slowly started to walk towards you. However, the OB held on to his elbow and pulled him back. “She’s…”
“Her cervix is fully effaced, however, she’s just 1cm dilated,” the OB-GYN informed him. “We'll be here for a while. It may take a while before she’s fully dilated. So no need to worry, she’s in good hands. Go get cleaned up.”
He swallowed thickly as he brought one hand to his face to wipe his tears then he whispered, “Ok. I’m just worried about it - that’s all.”
“I’ll be alright Satoru, the contractions aren’t as bad as I thought they would be,” you said to him with a smile on your face. He shook his head before walking out of the room to take a quick shower and changed into the clothes that he’s going to wear whenever it was time for you to push his baby out.
…
You were between his legs on the bed with the back of your head resting on his chest, one hand tightly intertwined with his while the other one rested itself on the top of his hand that was on your stomach. Gojo listened as you took one big breath before releasing it and then he whispered, “There you go, there you go deep breaths Y/N, deep breaths.” You took another breath and he whispered again. “You’re doing great, Y/N.”
It’s been an hour since your water broke, and as soon as Gojo got home and showered up, he made sure to call his best friend, your best friend. His family was already at the estate, so the only person that was left to call was your mom and he did. After he made the necessary calls, he quickly rushed back to the room, and nowhere you were with him on the bed between his legs.
“How far are the contractions Y/N?” Gojo asked while placing a kiss on your forehead.
You groaned a bit before answering, “Like 7 to 10 minutes.”
“Ok, the OB-GYN is in the delivery room getting everything set for the baby’s birth,” he whispered to you and you hummed in response. “How are you feeling? Are you happy that we’re finally getting to meet our baby?”
You turned to look up at him as you chuckled softly. “I think I’m more excited than I’ll finally get to push this baby out of me, my back needs a break now.”
He chuckled. “How about you tell me about when your water broke?”
“Well…” you started. “I felt this sudden need to pee. So I got up and tried walking to the bathroom, but as I took my first step away from the sofa, I just felt something pop. It was *BA WHOOSH*” You gasped suddenly. “I am going into another contraction. Wait a minute.”
Your face scrunches up in pain. “Breath through it baby,” he whispered to you as he rubbed your stomach. Gojo honestly doesn’t like to see you in pain, even though he walked you through hell before the divorce. But seeing you here at this very moment, trying your hardest to keep your breathing under control whenever the contractions hit you, he felt his heartache.
But it was also at this very moment when he truly realised just how he loves you. You’re about to bring his son, his very first child into this world for him to love and care for. His words or actions alone couldn’t express how grateful, how thankful he was to have you. He truly does love you.
Your OB-GYN walked inside the room to check up on you yet again. She smiled warmly at you both as she made her way towards the bed. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Gojo answered and you just smiled.
“How are you feeling?” she asked you as she took a seat on the bed.
“To be honest, I’m feeling alright until the contractions hit, obviously they are getting more intense.”
She nods her head at you while you speak. “Good. So I know that you can get overwhelmed so we want to make sure that things are quiet or it’ll be too much for you. I see that your friends and family have arrived.”
Gojo wanted this experience for both of you to be perfect. He didn’t want anyone inside the room beside the OB-GYN. He had already asked Geto to keep things quiet while everyone waits for baby Sorai to get here.
“I think it's about time we move Y/N to the delivery room. We had already closed most of the windows. The door that leads to the garden is unlocked to let a bit of fresh air in whenever you need to. We have the air conditioner on, we just want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Ok…”
“Yeah. Once you’re inside of the room we can just kick start your labour and get it going.”
“Alright let’s do this.” Gojo helped you off the bed before slowly walking you both towards the delivery room or let’s say the room with the pool. On your way, you say Geto down the hall waving at you.
“You’ve got this Y/N,” he said to you and you smiled. It was good to have supportive friends like Geto.
Once you were inside the room, the OB-GYN sat you down on another bed that was in the room. She did your regular check before leaving to get you a robe to slip on. She asked Gojo to remove his clothes since he was also getting inside the pool with you.
Everything was going as planned.
Two hours had passed and baby Sorai was almost here.
And you, you were feeling miserable as hell. Gojo was there though, holding you or rubbing your back or stomach as you moved around the room. At times whenever you felt a really bad contraction, you told him not to touch you, but at the same time, you were clingy to him as a newborn baby.
And to be honest, he wanted to smile at the fact that you were holding onto him, but he couldn’t, not when you were in so much pain. He hated to see you in so much pain, it had his worry out of his mind. He wished he could take the pain away, but he knew that he was asking to do the impossible, so all he could do was watch.
God, he felt worthless and it was not because he couldn’t help you. It was over the fact that he caused you so much mental pain during the time of your marriage and here you are yet again in so much pain because of him. If only he could go back.
“Dad?” OB-GYN called out for Gojo. He hummed at her and she took that as a sign to continue speaking. “Kissing helps with the contractions you know?”
“HUH?!” You said as you stared at her.
“It is a great approach to relieve unwanted pain and help the body "open up" during contractions. “Kissing or other personal activities do aid in the production of oxytocin, the love hormone. This helps to relax the body and strengthen uterine contractions.”
“Are you asking me to kiss her?” and the OB-GYN hummed in response. “Is that ok with you Y/N?”
“If it’ll help.”
“Ok, let me know whenever you’re having a contraction,” and it seemed as if he spoke too soon. You quickly turned your head towards him, grabbed his robe, and pulled him towards you until his lips touched yours. You groaned as he slowly moved his lips with yours.
He kissed you through your contractions for the rest of the time while you waited. He even managed to make a small conversation with you, while you were laying down on the bed. “I don’t wanna have any more kids.”
“I know Y/N, I know,” he chuckled while holding you close to him. You tuck your face into his neck as you try to bear the pain. “We’ll get through this honey,'' he said while kissing your lips yet again.
…
It wasn’t long before the last conversation when the OB gave you the epidural and about 20 minutes after, when the doctor examined you again, she told you that you were fully dilated.
It was time.
Gojo stripped himself from the bathrobe and then he took yours off then he carefully led you towards the pool. It was shallow enough for you to sit in and long enough for Gojo to stretch his legs. Once you were both inside the pool, he helped you to sit down comfortably in the pool then he moved to sit down in front of you. The OB spread yours over him, just wide enough for them to see and as she did so, you suddenly felt the urge to push.
“It’s coming,” you cried before holding your breath and making an attempt to push.
“Breath Y/N,” Gojo reminded you as he leaned his body forward and kissed your lips. “Breath Y/N.”
“I don’t wanna, I wanna push,” you said to him with tears streaming down his face. He stroked your cheek before turning your face to look at him.
“Breathe Y/N, just like this.” You tried to match your breathing with his, and even as you did so, you felt as if your whole body was being hit by a few stones.
“Ok, Dad. I want you to keep your focus on her opening. When we see the baby’s head, I’m going to ask you to put your hands under the baby’s head so that it won’t hit the floor.” Gojo only nodded his head before looking at you. “Alright Y/N, I'm going to ask you to give me one big push at the count of three.”
“You’ve got this sweetheart,” Gojo gave you one last smile before the doctor started counting.
And then you were pushing. Your body felt hot. You were in so much pain. Why? Why did you ever think that this delivery would have gone by smoothly? Tears stained your puffy cheeks and you were sweating from excretion. It took you exactly five pushes when your OB said that she saw the crown of the baby. Gojo was quick to reach his hands under you while urging you to keep on pushing. Your OB had her hands there as well, helping the young father to pull his baby out of you.
“One last push Y/N,” your OB said to you. “Breathe, and now on the count of three. One… Two… Three… That’s it, That’s it there we go.” You cried once you saw Gojo and the OB pulling the baby out of the water. “Write this time down. 6:04 pm, November 17th.”
Baby Gojo Sorai was finally here.
And you were now officially a mother.
“You did it,” Gojo said to you once your OB took the baby away from him. He was quick to seat himself beside you and wrapped you in a gentle hug. You were breathing heavily and crying tears of relief and happiness. Words cannot even explain how overwhelming this experience was for you as you listened to your son’s first cry. “You did it honey.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” the OB said to you. It didn’t take them much time for you to get clean. And as soon as they were finished they grabbed the wheelchair that was provided for you and took you back to your chambers with Gojo following closely behind. Once you were inside they helped you up on the bed, Gojo took that time to strip himself from his clothes. (Yes, he took a shower when they were cleaning you up.) Then he laid beside you. “Here take your baby,” the OB said as she placed your son on Gojo’s chest. “I would love for you to come in tomorrow to do the necessary checkups for the baby.”
“OK,” you said, smiling at the OB. She smiled back at you then she left the room, leaving you alone with Gojo to bond with your baby.
“Oh my God, he’s so tiny,” Gojo cooed as he stared down at baby Sorai. “This is my son. This is our son Y/N.” His eyes were full of tears when he turned to look at you. He tried to swallow his cry but he was unable to. “He’s so beautiful.”
“He is,” you hummed at him while reaching your hand out to touch your son’s rosy cheeks. You were exhausted, too tired to hold onto your son, so touching his cheeks will have to do now. Your son is truly beautiful. “He looks like you, Satoru.”
“You think so?” Gojo asked with his attention now directed towards his baby. You nodded your head at him while you continued to stroke Sorai’s cheeks. “God he’s so beautiful. Thank you.” Gojo now turned his attention towards you and rested his forehead against yours. “You’ve given me such a beautiful baby, Y/N and I thank you.” And then he leaned his head down to kiss you.
You only mumbled a quiet welcome before your eyes finally closed from exhaustion. You almost drift away into a deep sleep when suddenly…
“Sorai,” you heard Gojo whisper your son’s name. “I’ve been a bad daddy towards mommy. I’m sorry, I am sorry for hurting mommy so much. But I promise to make things right.” You felt Gojo place a kiss on your forehead then he continued to speak again. “I love your mommy so much. Sorai, I’ll fix things. I’ll fix my past mistakes and make things right, for you, your mommy, and me. I’ll rebuild our family again. No matter how long it’ll take. I promise.”
You wanted to smile, you wanted to open up your eyes to stare up at his face while he spoke those words. God, you truly love that man and you have no intentions to fall in love with another. It was sweet of him to make such a promise to your son, and you. He has the intention to fix the broken relationship, but at the moment, you knew it was best to not rebuild the relationship. However, that would be for another day, right now, you just wanted to sleep. So with that said, you felt your mind being drifted away into a deep slumber.
During that time Gojo stared at you with a smile on his face. He leaned his head down once more and kissed you, then he whispered, “Thank you Y/N, I love you.”
You heard your boyfriend—loud and clear, but still, you questioningly hummed as you folded your clothes on the bed. You were stacking them up neatly when you glanced at him as he sat on a chair in the corner of the room. He’s looking directly at you with a soft yet serious expression. You raised your brows at him nonchalantly, urging him to reiterate his proposal.
The wind blew past the curtains and inside your bedroom, sending chills down your spine and causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. You stood up to close the balcony door, telling yourself that the cold feeling on the tips of your fingers was caused by the breeze and not by the words that escaped Satoru’s lips.
“Maybe we should see other people. You know, like take a break from each other and see how it goes.” He leaned on his elbows, his eyebrows slightly pulling closer together as he cracked his fingers anxiously. His eyes traced your silhouette as you stood in front of the window; the sun was close to setting, slowly disappearing on the horizon.
i was just imagining some things and I want to share :>
TW // SUICIDE
what if things get too tough for Y/N? like she's blaming herself for a lot of different things, her so-called best friend and ex husband dating, criticism, trauma, her feelings and emotions are being invalidated, heartbreak and just all sorts of painful problems. what if Y/N commits suicide? all hell breaks loose. Her family getting flashbacks of the day they lost their mom, Utahime going insane from guilt, Suguru and Momjo thinking of all the things they said/did to her, Toji losing his composure and Satoru having his biggest break down as he hysterically cries, asking Shoko for updates about how she is. Sachi starting to cry and asking about his Mama. Just imagine how many realizations will take place. She didn't die btw, just hospitalized... And in the brink of death because of her angina. I wonder what kind of turn of events would take place.
OR imagine if Y/N commits suicide and then Satoru finds out about how she's rushed to the hospital because of it so he calls anyone who might have infos, tries to get to the hospital as fast as possible but when he asked the lobby nurse about her room number, she tells him they're already moving her to the mortuary. (like when they rushed to go to the hospital for Nana.)
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.
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. mentions of the following (abortion, cheating, suicide, depression, illness, physical abuse, death), smoking, alcohol/intoxication, suggestive smut
notes. 20.3k words hello ?? and it’s a bit angsty maybe. i hope u enjoy and tysm if you’re still here despite my slow updates :’( likes and reblogs will be appreciated! also lmk how u guys feel abt this episode ;)
with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.
genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. mentions of trauma, mentions of depression, blood
notes. last chapter everyone! donut be scared :] the angst is lesser than part 19. thank you for the overall support this series has received! please see more notes after the cut <3
series masterlist -> sequel
additional notes. i don’t wanna be too dramatic so i’ll try to keep it short, you guys probably have heard about this a million times whenever i answered asks, but sincerely not was supposed to be my last piece of writing on tumblr. i had such a terrible writing slump before i posted it and it came to a point where i wasn’t satisfied with all the content i’m putting out. i didn’t expect that sn would blow up, or let alone have such a loyal and supportive audience that now became the reason why i work hard every week to pump out long chapters. i sincerely can’t thank you guys enough for going through this 5-month journey with me. with more than 200k words, 20 chapters, and a community built because of this series, this is perhaps a work that i will cherish and remember for the rest of my life. thank you to each and everyone who stayed up all night reading this series, to those who always eagerly left comments and theories under every post or in my ask box, and to those who contributed amazing fanarts for this fic. from the bottom of my heart, thank you and i love you. - sincerely, saint ♡
3 YEARS LATER
“As you all know, three years ago, I lost control of this company.” Standing in front of the executives and the shareholders was Satoru Gojou in his three-piece Zegna suit. “The market cap suffered a significant decrease to eight billion less. Because of the scandals and mismanagement on my end, not only did many investors pull out, but we also lost some of our most brilliant employees who all have contributed to the company’s growth over the last twenty-five years.” With all eyes set on him, the tips of his fingers felt unusually cold, but he had to continue his talk by walking around the new faces that filled up the conference room. “I know what you’re all thinking: ‘Why is the Chairman talking about his sob story?’ After all, no one would have thought that a person like me could still save the Gojou Group from its massive decline. Many journalists even referred to it as a major corporation failure. When my company’s stock price bottomed out, many people took the chance to buy stocks dirt cheap and I was already foreseeing how long it would take for me to file for bankruptcy. I went through terrible depression, my health deteriorated, and my mind was in a dark period for a year after I got divorced, but I still did everything I could to salvage the only thing I had left. But how could I? Where do I begin? At the time, it was nothing but a hopeless and ambitious thought.”
Satoru stopped from his leisurely gait and placed a hand on top of his CFO’s shoulder. As he looked down at the blond with a grateful smile, he then proceeded to finish his speech, “To play this game or any game, you must have a good mentor. Mine was my colleague, Nanami Kento, who once told me that if my life crumbled apart after I lost my wife, I should also think about my innocent employees whose lives would be far more affected if I didn’t do anything to save the company. He was right. I couldn’t possibly mope around and watch more people suffer from the difficulties I've caused. And so, I sought his advice and worked with him to rebuild the Gojou Group from ground zero.” Satoru turned on his heel as he finally arrived at the far end of the table. “Just like Nanami, you are all here because you’ve given me another chance at reconstructing the damages I had done. It was a tough three years and we’re still working to restore the company back to how it was, but I just wanna take this time to express my sincerest gratitude to each and every single one of you inside this room for inspiring me and allowing me the opportunity to rise up from the bottom. In return, I will ensure—as the Chairman of the Gojou Group—that you will all be generously rewarded for your dedication and hard work. Thank you.”
After the general shareholders meeting, Satoru was back in his office with his CFO and his secretarial staff who were seated on the couch to deal with schedules and paperwork while discussing the spontaneous speech he had just done at the meeting.
“What in the world was that?” Nanami asked, unfolding a newspaper before resting his back against the couch. “You made a speech like you were stepping down on your position.”
Satoru chose to sit at the edge of his office table as he took a sip from his coffee mug. “Why? Do you wanna be an interim CEO again?” His tone was playful, although remembering how difficult it must have been for Nanami to be in the highest executive position at such a desperate time. Back to the days when Satoru was mentally and emotionally incapable of making good business decisions, the Gojou Group and its twenty subsidiaries would have all collapsed if not for Nanami’s immediate action plans to keep the company intact as one of the nation’s largest conglomerate in terms of assets and the second largest in terms of sales.
That being said, the blond didn’t even hide his year-long exhaustion after becoming the company's major pillar of support. “Please. I’d rather retire early than have you punish me with that title ever again, interim or not.”
“Don’t say that, Nanami. We’re gonna have a really long loving relationship as Chairman and CEO-to-be, you know.” Satoru continued to tease and earned Nanami’s glare as a response, all before the former noticed his secretary who was chuckling at the sight. “I think Miwa has better time management when she’s reporting to you, anyway.”
The blue-haired girl was quick to deny. “Not true, Chairman!” said Miwa while arranging some papers on the coffee table. “I always handle my time perfectly well no matter who I’m reporting to.”
Undoubtedly. Even if he treated her like a robot sometimes, Satoru was lucky enough to have had the chance to see Miwa’s professional growth from the past three years that she had been his executive assistant. He would never in his life forget that this girl stayed by his side during the lowest period of his life. Her loyalty was what led her closer to him to the point where they grew a sibling-like connection. Although they maintained a professional superior-subordinate relationship, he was able to joke around with her while she was given the rare opportunity to speak to him informally at certain instances: one, when he needed a good scolding and two, whenever he was teasing her about Yuuta (but that was a story for another day).
“Let’s see… What if I reassign you to be Yuuta’s secretary one day?” Satoru grinned in mischief as he set the coffee mug down. “He’ll be graduating next year and I’ll appoint him as the Vice President once he returns to Japan.”
Instead of Miwa whose cheeks were suffused with a pink tint, it was Nanami who immediately reacted in surprise. “You’re really gonna train him for the position as soon as he comes back?”
“Yeah.” Satoru offered a nod before signaling his secretary to reach for the special suit she carefully hung on his rack this morning. “He looks forward to it. He’s smart, responsible, and analytical, so you won’t have a hard time mentoring him.”
The man exhaled deeply, languid as he flipped the pages of his newspaper. “Why do you always leave the job to me?”
“Because you’re the best, Nanami~! Take it as a compliment.”
“I don’t need compliments, I want a Bugatti in return,” he made a quick bargain, “a mansion in Aoyama and a one-year vacation leave to Kuantan, Malaysia with no texts, calls, and emails from you.”
Satoru was better off as a statue after hearing his CFO’s offer. “And that’s what I call a good businessman!” He gave him a well-deserved clap and turned to his secretary in haste, “Miwa, take note. This kind of brazenness is something I wanna see from you.”
The girl simply laughed at the good-humored exchange between Nanami and Satoru while she held the expensive suit in front of the latter. As if she had read his mind, Miwa suddenly asked, “Are you really going to… do that today, sir?”
It would be nice to blame the air conditioner for the sudden thickness in density. Not even ten seconds had passed and the mood swiftly changed into something more sullen, more gloomy. As Gojou took off his Zegna coat and unfastened his cufflinks, his gaze fell down on the visible scar on his forearm. Once a deep gash that required multiple stitches, now a reminder of that cold December night where blood and glass shards surrounded him as he sobbed his heart out in his mother’s arms.
He could ask Miwa’s questions to himself and only one answer would come out each time. “I have to.”
“Want me to go with you?” offered Nanami out of genuine concern. “I can reschedule my meeting with the finance department.”
Satoru, despite being genuinely appreciative of their concern, did not muster enough courage for the past two months anticipating this day just to back out at the last minute. “No, I got it.” That was all he had to tell Nanami and Miwa before he changed into the classic Givenchy tuxedo that was gifted to him three years ago. “Take care of everyone here while I’m gone.”
Gojou could barely remember what the atmosphere was like on his own wedding day. Because it was rushed and planned by everyone else except the bride and groom themselves, he didn’t have a great archive of memories relating to that special day that ultimately changed his life. Frankly, he was fairly busy with the company back then so he didn’t have much time to participate with the whole wedding preparation, leaving the designers and wedding planners to be the ones who visited him in the office just to remind him that he was going to become a married man. His distaste towards the forced marriage doubled his anger towards an innocent bride that later became a vital part of his life.
Many people asked him this: would Gojou consider getting married again? His answer would depend on the person. The answer, among many options, was only one particular woman with a selfless heart and an altruistic soul. Satoru couldn’t think of getting married to anyone else other than his soulmate whom he had promised a wedding to back when they were six. His childhood friend who had spent his birthdays with him just before they grew apart. His other half whom he had shared the most memories with from then and now. The lover, the wife, the mother of his child.
His one and only.
In an alternate universe, he had the option to restart his life back from where it all began. On the wedding day, where white primroses adorned the trellises, where satin linens complemented the dome of cloudless skies, where elaborate details and enchanting décor ignored the idea of ‘less is more’. But no matter how grandiose the setup was—whether it was whimsical or glamorous or traditional, in his previous life, he had forgotten the true essence of his own wedding—it was being united with his partner in life.
Beyond everything, marriage was a sacred bond between a husband and his wife.
The reminiscence of being surrounded by wedding decorations was déjà vu for Satoru who had not paid the slightest bit of attention to it three years ago. Or did he? Because with the way he recalled the tiniest details of his first wedding, it looked like he did pay a significant amount of recognition to the special day as much as he initially thought. The redolence of jasmine added to his nostalgia as he continued to walk like a ghost along the pathway where the wedding planners were passing left and right. They were oblivious to the man with white hair in a black tuxedo, concealed by a face mask while keeping himself unseen by blending amongst the low number of guests who had just arrived. The French baroque cathedral boasted of timeless elegance and one look at the ceiling gave him a breathtaking view of the magnificent Rococo art. Didn’t he get married in a garden? The decorations were either just black, ivory, and champagne not apricot and periwinkle blue. Right, Gojou remembered. Every stark difference was screaming to be remembered. The color palette, the theme, the flowers, and even the venue.
This wasn’t an alternate universe nor was this his own wedding.
This simple and yet sophisticated church wedding was his Earth-shattering reality to serve as a reminder that the tragedy was in his romance book, not yours.
With over seven billion people around the world, he was granted with only one person that had been his supposed life-long partner. Unfortunately, life could no longer offer him a rewind after everything that happened. He didn’t have a free pass to travel back through time to rewrite his past. Just like the ugly scars on his forearm, some things just never fade. What he had for himself was the future—the chance to be a better man without the expectations from a yearned woman. A closure, not to accept his defeat, but more so to prove his eternal love.
Not many guests were familiar to him except for your cousins and the groom’s immediate family. The wedding in itself was an intimate setup, seemingly only for those who were dear to the wedded couple-to-be. It was a great contrast to your first glamorous wedding where almost every famous personality was invited amongst the swarm of influential businessmen. In this wedding, attention was not being waved at his face because the primary focus was the ceremony that would soon unify a man and a woman as one.
He wasn’t even invited, so why the hell was Satoru Gojou in here?
Thankfully, no one had really noticed him as he managed to escape from any unwanted attention by sneaking close to the walls until he finally reached one of the exits that headed towards the back. There was a pavilion just a couple of steps away from the church where they kept the bride before the actual ceremony would begin. Needless to say, Satoru’s blood had drained from his face as soon as one of the notable bridesmaids walked out of the door.
“Ieiri.” Gojou took off his face mask and noticed how his voice had become unstable. “Where’s she—”
“Inside,” replied Shoko, pointing towards the room. “She’s with her friend, but it should be fine. Gen went to see their father. Did anyone see you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” His heart was pounding on his chest. His head, pulsating. Air was luxury for him to breathe at this moment when he thought of the man he would become once his eyes were set on you again three years after you left.
Ieiri must have felt his temperature rising (or falling in that sense) because cold sweats started forming on his temples, but not until she snapped her fingers in front of his face to wake him up from his trance. “Hey, it’s okay.” A couple pats on the back lessened Gojou’s tension. “You can do it. This is your last chance.”
They said during moments of panic, it was normal for a person to feel numb. Everything was in slow motion and very few sounds were picked up by the ears as all the unnecessary hubbub would be blocked out. While he tried to reach for the doorknob, Satoru’s hand was visibly shaking due the accumulation of anxiety that he never realized had built up upon coming here. His nerves were like seismic waves forming ripples on a pond. What was he scared of? He had gone through so much alone for the last three years, but even so, this day might be the summit of his pain. It would mark as the highest point in his mountain of broken heart and eternal loneliness.
It was different in his head than when he actually opened the door and stepped inside the room. A girl with dark hair in a half-updo was smiling at you from the mirror as you two were unaware of the new presence that had entered the room. Even from afar, even when he could only see your side profile, Gojou had already fallen weak on the knees. A wave of strong emotions washed over his body as he saw the very woman that he loved and still undeniably did.
“…Y/N.”
When had he last called you by your name?
To him, the name that rolled off his tongue had also sparked a flame to his heart. To you, on the other hand, the voice that called it out was nothing more than a stranger from the past that you wanted so badly to erase. He could see it in your eyes with how they widened in shock, leaning on the negative scale more than the positive as you hastily got up from your seat. “W-What are you doing here?”
The girl who stood by your side kept a guarded stance while she mumbled, “Y/N, should I call for Toji?”
“No need.” Satoru blinked thrice in the same second and shook his head. “He knows I’m here. He…” trailing off, he drew in a deep breath, “He told me to see you before the ceremony.”
It happened a week ago when Gojou found out you came back to Tokyo after three long years. He heard rumors about you dating Toji, but he never really thought your bond was deep enough to lead to another marital union. Wasn’t it such a cruel fate? Someone who was once his bride, was now someone else’s.
As hard as it was for Satoru to swallow, he knew that Toji Zen’in must love you a lot and he wasn’t even surprised that you ended up with his rival after all the things that had happened. Not many guys would allow an ex-husband a chance to meet his bride on the wedding day just for the sake of closure. But you see, your groom respected you and trusted you and cared for you enough to understand that this was something you and Satoru had to have. A private moment to conclude the relationship that scarred both you and him, which could possibly cause complications in any of your future marriages if not resolved. There was no harm in having this much needed conversation, especially since three years had gone by and you were close to strangers at this point. Or at least, he was to you. Any feelings you once harbored for him were completely gone like how the same gleam that used to shine for him was now empty.
You must have realized that fearing Satoru Gojou would not help you in the long run, so you ended up allowing him inside before you turned to your friend. “Utahime,” you spoke to her calmly, “can you excuse us for a while?”
From the corner of his eyes, Satoru noticed how the woman with the gentle face glanced at his way before she decided to trust your words and subsequently made her exit. With the door shut in a 33-square meter room, it didn't seem as if the distance between you and him was there. Not when he had become too enamored of your ethereal beauty to a point where he couldn’t breathe.
And he had to swallow. Hard. Because you were so goddamn beautiful that his eyes were filling up with tears. Are you real? The pain he felt sure was. Are you really in front of him? He scanned every inch of your face and remembered how he used to wake up staring at those eyes each morning, how he used to touch those cheeks, how he used to kiss those very lips. He never had the chance to appreciate you back on your own wedding day and his greatest regret in life was not telling you how breathtakingly regal you looked in a wedding dress. Forget the swarovski crystals that hugged your figure or the natural make-up that enhanced your features—Satoru believed that no other woman could beat your grace and elegance in his eyes even if you were wearing a simple white dress with a bare face.
You aged three years older after you last saw each other, but the most fascinating part of it was seeing you in the best version of yourself. Not a trace of heartbreak. Not a hint of loneliness. There was that certain class and maturity that made him fall in love with you all over again.
“You look beautiful,” he meant to say it aloud despite the clench it caused his heart because he had to let you know no matter how shameless. “I know I never got to tell you this before, but… this, this is also how beautiful you looked on our wedding day.”
You watched him take a deep breath as if he was the rightful groom who was star-struck at the sight of his bride. “You never even looked at me on our wedding day.”
“I did, I know I did…” He stared at you in pining melancholy. Did Gojou imagine having this casual talk with an ex-lover? He was afraid that this might be the calm before the storm. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I-I don’t intend to stay throughout the ceremony today.”
“So, what are you here for?”
“…”
“Satoru.”
“I just think that, maybe…”
With a distant gaze, your impatience led you to go straight to the point. “We’ve been divorced longer than we have married, Gojou.” But what hurt more was the way you avoided meeting his eyes. “If you have nothing important to talk about, save it. If you’re here to congratulate me, thanks. I hope you find someone else to marry, too—”
“Why did you let go?”
The sudden question rendered you speechless, so much that you almost sympathized from the guilt and agony that casted your ex-husband’s face. Satoru had been suffering for three long years thinking of the picture perfect family that he had lost and all of those unwanted memories during his darkest days were now swallowing him in whole. They were burying him six feet under and pulling him back into that abyss of torment that he thought he had already escaped. It was endless, bottomless, complete darkness.
But even with the obvious pain in his visage, you couldn’t find the right words to answer. He had to be the one to clarify it further. “Our baby,” his voice broke and his words took him back to that sorrowful day at the hospital, “I wanna know why you let go. I-I don’t understand why you did it.”
“You know why.” Tears were threatening to spill from your shiny eyes. “Don’t bring it back. I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”
It hurt. It hurt so much that he wanted to hug you, but couldn’t. That he wanted to wipe your cheeks, but couldn’t. That he wanted to kiss your forehead, pull you into his arms, hold you close. It hurt how much he longed for you day and night for the past 1,095 days, hoping that you would come back to him and be his wife again. How foolish. This woman in front of him wasn’t the same one he married for that woman had given up on him, but him—he never once gave up on you. He kept holding on like you were the last buoy keeping him afloat in the vast sea. “I messaged y-you nonstop.” His breathing hitched as a sob rose in his throat. “I sent you hundreds of voice mails even if you had me blocked everywhere. I followed you to New York and tried to search every corner of it for you, b-but I was told to leave you alone. In the end, I had to leave you alone and give you space, because I didn’t want you to hate me more than you already do. Do you know how it feels to be… to be abandoned by someone you love, and three years later that person comes back only to marry someone else?”
Out of the many things Gojou learned from his therapist: you can never suppress sadness. It always managed to seep out and the best way to handle it was to release such a heavy emotion out of the bottle. His face was already a screaming sign of Fragile: Handle With Care. But if anyone were to break him, the privilege was yours.
“Satoru, we never should have married in the first place,” you argued, eyes glistening with similar blues as you looked up at him, “We were doomed from the beginning because that marriage was never genuine. Stop holding on to me like I’m more than just a key to your personal goals.”
“Y/N, I love you…” At this point, he couldn’t stop the waterfall that gushed out of his eyes, emptying his sockets until he could no longer cry. His voice was thick with tears, his words were strangled in his throat. “I love you, I cherish you. I still do. I still fucking do and I’m so miserable without you. Don’t say that I was never genuine when I truthfully fell in love with you.”
You refused his words and swallowed the pity forming at the back of your throat. “No, you fell in love with the idea of me. You fell in love with the idea of having your own happy family regardless of the person you wanted to share it with.”
Satoru attempted to reach for your arm, but felt wrong for having tried because his cold hand didn’t deserve to touch your sacred warmth. “That’s not true.”
“I’m not your wife anymore.” Your reminder served numerous stabs in his hollow heart. “Gojou, you need to move on and live your life without me. You’re young, you’re single, you can easily go back to the way you were before you were ever married. You can even forget our marriage happened. Just please… Please find your happiness elsewhere.”
“I don’t… I don’t wanna forget.”
He came here promising himself that he was only going to apologize and clarify his intentions, it was never part of his plan to be a sobbing mess in front of you while begging for the love he had taken for granted. He wanted his wife back. He wanted Y/N Gojou to accept him again and give him another chance to be a better husband. But that was not the agreement he had with Toji when he allowed him to have this talk with you. Gojou had to remind himself not to steer away from his original path and respect the boundaries that were set in order to live a guiltless life. He ought not to be selfish, but more selfless because that was something he learned from you.
And in saying that, his only option for you to achieve your peace and true felicity was to let you go. Like setting a dove free from a bird cage, spreading its wings into open air before flying away—you had to have that freedom without a pathetic ex-husband clinging on to you. All he ever brought you was misery and heartache, so the best way to repent for his sins was to cut the thin string that kept you tied to him.
“Do you love him?” he asked once and for all, even though it shattered him inside, even though it squeezed his heart and every artery. Layers of unsettling emotions overcame him as the thought of you marrying someone else, having a family with someone else, doing the things you did with him to someone else—absolutely, agonizingly wrecked him. “Will you be happy if you married him?”
Along with your modestly downcast eyes, you took the chance to dodge the direction of his desolate gaze. “Probably so much more than when I married you.”
Who knew that an honest answer could make one’s world crumble into ashes?
In every sad song, sad movie, or sad novel there was, Gojou believed that his tragedy could sell billions of copies because there was nothing more satisfying than reading a story about how the man who once had it all, in the end lost it all.
As for you, your immediate thought was to turn away, searching through your jewelry box on the table before taking out the very last piece that connected you to him.
Your wedding ring.
The same ring he was still wearing to this day.
“Satoru, I loved you.” Your words flew past your mulberry lips as you reached for his hand. Throughout your marriage, it was for the first time he ever heard you say those three words. Three words that were now in the past just like the ring that you placed on his palm. “If you ever wanted to hear it, I did love you. I loved you so much that I stayed that long because I wanted us to work. I love you enough that I want you to be happy, even if we’re no longer together.” Gojou’s eyes were the loneliest shade of blue as he felt your thumb running across his cheek. “For the eleven months and twenty-two days we were married, all I did was to try and fix you. Now let me fix me.”
Didn’t you know? When you were in love, your voice was always the calmest. Your eyes, the dreamiest. Your face, the softest. It was a slapping contrast to the loom of darkness that swept over your ex-husband’s face—the man you once loved and was bound to by vows. But if his sorrow meant that you would find your joy, then he was ready to have his heart broken over and over again by the one person he loved the most. You.
Words needn’t be said. He accepted the ring you returned with a great wretch of sadness, keeping it safe in his own hand like he was holding onto a person in the form of a gold wedding band. In an hour or so, another ring would adorn your finger and it would be much more beautiful than the one you previously had from an ex-husband that you easily forgot about.
Your love story ended here.
On the first day of spring, where flowers bloom to signal the start of your new beginning. The radiant woman he loved the most would start a new chapter in life with someone else. And unlike you, Satoru was stuck in his cold, winter sorrows. There were no four seasons in his calendar for his days remained in the coldest months of the year because his source of sunlight found another world to shine on.
“I have to go.” The soles of his feet wanted to stay, but he couldn’t linger around any longer than he should’ve. What last words would he have to say to his ex-wife? ‘Have a happy marriage’? When that, in fact, was a form of self-punishment. But on a similar note, he felt the longing in your eyes and it allowed him to wish for nothing but the best for you. “I know he’s gonna take care of you, but… just in case,” he trailed off, forcing an upward curve on his lips, “I hope he kisses you every morning when he wakes up.”
“Satoru…”
His words were surprisingly cathartic. “I hope he’ll call you beautiful each day, stroke your hair when you lie on his lap, take you out on movie nights and spontaneous dates.” To make it more lighthearted and less dramatic, he added a few happy memories. “I hope he won’t drink straight off the milk carton or forget to turn the lampshade off at night. You deserve to be with someone who lets you spend pink toilet papers and expensive skin care masks on his credit card. Someone who stares at you in your sleep, thanking God for blessing him with a wife like you.”
Your lips quivered, eyes achingly staring at his.
Gojou ignored the weakness gnawing his chest and offered a smile that may have a million meanings, but truly only translated to one: I’m happy when you are. And so, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead. It was a harmless, unassuming kiss to let you know that he would always care for you the same. “I love you.”
Hesitance then bathed your eyes as he pulled away. Was that guilt in your gaze? Or was it pity? Either way, you squeezed his hand and opened your mouth reluctantly. “Wait, I… There’s something you need to know.”
At the rate of your growing anxiety, Satoru decided for himself that today was not the day for you to deal with it. He may have been selfish all his life, but he didn’t want to ruin your wedding for his sake. With the Zen’ins was where you belong. After all, they were a family void of drama or any ulterior motives that could break your trust in the long run. That was the household you deserved to be in.
“Will I be crying on my knees if I did know?”
You held your breath. “Maybe.”
“Will it fix us?”
“I don’t think so.”
Knowing a disappointing truth was better than wondering forever. But in that moment where palpable silence became one of his biggest fears, he decided that the less he knew, the better. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it,” he assured, backing away and learning the art of letting go, “I should head out.”
“…Okay.”
His cue to leave was your sudden sympathetic gaze. His signal to turn around and step out of the room was the fact that he despised seeing sympathy in your eyes because it made him yearn and seek for your love. He didn’t need your sympathy, he needed you. It was a dangerous zone that he ought to avoid or else there was no going back.
The only way was forward.
Walking through the hallways alone gave him a newfound sense of catharsis. Although the other half of his soul remained with you, lovers didn’t necessarily have to be soulmates. They came in different shapes and forms, be it with a childhood friend, a past lover, an ex-wife. He was content for not sticking to his brand of selfishness which cost him a wife and a child in return.
Fate must be playing with him, because just as he turned to the corner of the hallway, he stumbled upon a little boy with white hair who was hiding his face against the wall.
Could it be…?
Stopping in his tracks, his eyes widened and brimmed with tears. He must be imagining this whole thing. He must be hallucinating. Why did his chest hurt this badly? Why did the atmosphere suddenly make him feel queasy? He felt sick to the bones after remembering the depressive episodes he went through because of his unborn child. The pain he suffered from his loss was more than a person could take. And now, this…
“‘Gumi!” The giggling kid ran past Satoru to meet Toji’s teenage son who immediately carried the little boy in his arms.
“There you are,” Megumi spoke to the child with a rare smile on his face, “You’re not supposed to show yourself when you play hide and seek.”
Satoru’s heartbeat quickened exponentially. His pulse was thumping with a heavy beat. It wasn’t until Megumi saw his figure down the hallway when the dark-haired boy became nonplussed. He knew what the older guy was thinking, and he didn’t seem to know how to react to it.
The little boy with similar white hair was facing away, so Gojou was yet to see if the kid looked like a splitting image of him to confirm his questions. He was already shell shocked and he would probably break down had he learned that the child was indeed his.
But seemingly hearing Satoru’s trail of thought, Megumi took the chance to keep the little boy away. “Come on, let’s go see your mom.”
“Mama?” The kid turned around, noticing Satoru’s presence as the person who carried him walked further and further away. Each growing distance did not do anything to melt the block of ice he had become. Frozen as he stood there, eyes wide at the sight of the child with white hair and baby blue eyes.
This couldn’t be real.
At the beginning of spring, the sky was crying and so was he. You were moving into new spheres, but this heart of his could love so infinitely that everything becomes muted. His heart could love so blindly that everything you do merited its forgiveness. It was unimaginable for anyone who actually cared to understand the gravity that had fallen on Satoru as he rushed into the parking lot. In a daze, lost in his own thoughts while putting the missing puzzle pieces together.
Three years in New York City.
Had he been deprived of a child that he believed hadn’t been born at all?
He was searching through his many antidepressants in the glove compartment of his car. Satoru had been so full of anxiety for this day that he missed taking a couple of pills that he strictly had to take to aid his severe depressive episodes—one of which was about to happen in a few. That child of his could have been a hallucination after all. His mind liked to play tricks on him ever since his mental state went on a downward slope. It wasn’t your fault nor anyone else’s.
It was his.
The onus was always on him. The blame, the criticism, the hatred even to himself. While the wedding was on going, Satoru was in his car crying silently to himself with his head on the steering wheel as his saddest thoughts haunted him. He could easily walk out of the car, crash your wedding, and perhaps confirm if that child was not just a fragment of his imagination.
But what scared him the most was getting a confirmation that you did hide his child for three years without telling him. Why did that scare him, you wonder? Because it meant that he would have to hate you again. It meant that he had to feel strong hostility towards you, when that feeling was the last thing he ever wanted to feel for his own wife.
During his lowest moments, the person he ran to was also the person who once ran away from him. You weren’t aware, but his mom never once left his side at times where the world felt hopeless. Or when breathing felt like luxury than a need. Or when simply existing felt like an undeserved privilege. She stayed and nurtured him to make sure that he wasn’t alone as much as he believed. It was her duty as a mother to care for her child. The only person who truly understood his never-ending pain.
“Mom.” One minute he was crying soundlessly in his car, the next he was on his phone choking a sob. “Mom, I-I can’t do this alone.”
“Satoru? What’s wrong, honey?” Worry laced her voice on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”
His chest rose and fell heavily. “I w-wanna wake up from this nightmare. I wanna wake up next to her.”
“Where are you?” His mother repeated her question with her anxiety increasing tenfold. It was one of ‘those days’. Those terrible, dark days where the other side was whispering in her son’s ear, tempting him to escape this world in his own hands. “Did you go to her wedding? My son…”
Gojou released a sigh, but it sounded more like a plea for help. His eyes were bloodshot and forlorn as he stared at the ceiling of his car. “I saw her and she looked beautiful. Sh-She’s happier, she’s… she’s… Mom, I love her.”
“I’m coming to pick you up.” He could tell his mother was tearing up. “Stay where you are, Satoru. I’ll be there as soon as I can—”
“We have a child,” he spilled out of the blue and the way it flew past his lips only brought a burning ache in his chest. “Our son, he looked j-just like me.” He pictured it all out in his head—how his son would look sleeping in your arms, how his son would run towards his stepfather each time he came home, how his son would look at Satoru Gojou without recognizing him as the father who anticipated his birth with such excitement five months into your pregnancy. “I have a son and he doesn’t know me.”
Deafening silence took over his mother, though it didn’t last long until she spoke in a careful voice. “What are you planning?”
There was no handbook on what to do after finding out that your ex-wife faked her abortion all along. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to yell the nastiest profanities for the absolute fool he was seen as, and yet everything he would do would just be futile at this point. He was already having difficulty in processing the idea of your marriage with someone else, much less a child with you. Instead of fighting for the family he lost, he felt like he actually just lose a hundred battles more.
He had to think. Think, away from this place, away from the wedding that was happening inside the cathedral. He needed to clear his mind and figure it all out on his own. For one, was he supposed to pretend that nothing happened? Were you supposed to hide the child from him forever? Were you going to let another man be a father figure to a child who looked exactly like the husband you escaped from?
In a minute, Satoru revved his engine and accelerated the car past forty. He hit sixty when he drove through the street, then he hit a hundred when he reached the freeway. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and drove with blithe disregard for the rules of the road as tears blurred his vision. But maybe, instead of finding a way on how his presence could contribute properly to an ex-wife and a long lost child, he had to choose the easier option—to disappear. Because for all its worth, he wasn’t needed anymore. You managed three years without him, and you could manage fifty more years without him.
His little boy could continue his life not recognizing his shameless father who cheated on his mother, neglected her, ruined her. He was a bad influence and that was solid proof that Satoru could have never been a great dad as much as he liked to believe.
Though, for one reason, you were wrong. As he stomped his foot on the gas pedal, he remembered your words from earlier, ‘you fell in love with the idea of having your own happy family regardless of the person you wanted to share it with’. He didn’t want that family with anyone else but you. That mansion he purchased wasn’t meant for Sera, but for a home he pictured out with a woman he would marry and have dozens of children with. He wasn’t given a chance at explaining himself nor was his voice heard when he tried to beg for forgiveness. You didn’t owe him one, but it broke him to know that because of that miscommunication, your love couldn’t be fulfilled in this lifetime.
This was a world where he was and would always be alone.
Reaching for his pocket, he took out the ring you returned to him and placed it between his fingers, reminding himself of a piece of you that he could still hold onto.
Other than the ring, he also had memories of both good and bad. The wedding day, Iceland, the auction, the morning after his father’s birthday, Bora Bora, Nana’s death, finding out you were pregnant, knowing you had stable angina, that sunset in the yacht, Eula going to jail, him losing everything including you. If any author decided to write about him one day, Satoru hoped that people could learn from his tragedy and value their marriage before it was too late.
Wasn’t it pathetic how he barely remembered everything he had done for the past three years except for those moments with you?
His phone rang wildly from the cup holder as his mom ceaselessly called him. But before he could manage to reach for the gadget, he failed to hit the brakes when the traffic lights turned red. Another blinding light greeted him in slow motion—he realized that the lights were from another car. A much bigger vehicle was speeding towards him when the corner of his eyes saw it from a split second and it was all too late when he tried to steer himself away given the car’s screeching sound, the cacophony of horns echoing left and right, and the tires skidding on the pavement. The collision happened faster than his mind could take. Although his ears picked up the sound of a glass shattering, his eyes didn’t capture the sight of the vehicle that led him to a fatal crash.
There was no deus ex machina to save him from the accident and neither were there flashbacks of his life from childhood until now. There was only darkness that pulled him in and embraced his soul into that empty, inescapable void.
On your second wedding, you expected that things would be easier this time around.
It took you three years to rebuild yourself to be the strong, independent woman that you were now. The process was a difficult path and you could admit that many times, you wished that you didn’t have to go through all of it alone. Being a single mother and studying fashion at the same time was a tough journey, but also the best decision you had made in your life. You learned how to love yourself, along with your son who grew up to be a very sweet kid, while understanding what your real worth should be in a society where being a divorcée at age twenty-eight was considerably acceptable.
You had your father and Gen’s support while raising your son in a country minus the spotlight from the media that could have caused you more stress three years ago. You hoped Satoru could understand. You just wanted to raise your baby in an environment without all the negative energy that surrounded him and your past marriage. So even if he would end up hating you now, you only ever wanted to prioritize your child. Your decision not to tell him was because you no longer had any connections as husband and wife soon as you divorced. Keeping the baby back then could mean that it would be harder for Satoru to let go, so despite having heard his heartbreaking screams that day in the hospital, you had to act on the advice that your father and sister gave you which was to finally put an end to your arranged marriage.
Besides, you were still blessed with a respectable man who had been there for you through thick and thin. A man you would soon lock eyes with once the towering doors by the vestibule was finally opened.
But at the thought of marriage, you suddenly remembered your first husband. You were foolishly thinking of Satoru Gojou at a wedding with a different man. Your trembling fingers matched the increased pace in your heart, just as much as how you blinked through the sting in your eyes. You realized that you were blinking tears until the wooden doors swung open to welcome you into another marital union that once put you through hell.
There they were, awaiting for you to walk down the aisle in your glamorous bejeweled gown. You saw your small audience of families and friends smiling at you as they eyed you with admiration. You saw Toji Zen’in at the far end of the aisle, handsome and perfect in his classic tuxedo while anticipating his status as a married-to-be.
With all eyes on you, you slowly made your way across the aisle, but each step was suffocating. The thought of going through marriage—hoping that it would be perfect only to be crushed by reality in the end—scared you. You didn’t realize that you had developed trauma with weddings all because of a certain white-haired male who altered your vision of what marriages were supposed to be.
Three steps.
Could you really do this again? Could you become someone’s wife and be locked under the vows of marriage for better and for worse?
Two steps.
Could you really offer yourself with wholehearted devotion towards a man who could end up ruining your trust once more?
One step.
The loud thumping of your heart was the answer: maybe you could. For Toji. For the love you deserved. For the marriage you always dreamed of.
But although you concluded with that answer, your hand lost grip on the flower bouquet as you saw another future as a wife back to square one.
“Call the ambulance! 911! Somebody help!”
“Sir, please stay with me.”
The light came back to him while he was sandwiched between the cold dirt and the hot metal of the car. The heavy weight of the vehicle was pressing down on him and keeping him paralyzed amongst the broken shards of glass. No voice escaped his hoarse throat, but he could feel blood dripping on the side of his head where a throbbing sensation had just started to grow.
Yet all in all, he was numb.
He couldn’t move his hand, couldn’t see beyond the confines of his car, couldn’t breathe more oxygen that his lungs needed—all his mind could process was the thought of you. Right when the shiny gold ring was within arm’s reach on the concrete floor, Satoru lifted his broken arm up just to hold onto that one piece of memory he had of you.
He wasn’t certain if he was only waiting for death or something much worse, but at the rate of the excruciating pain that his brain was giving him, he knew one way or another that he would lose a part of himself from hereafter.
But he hoped to every saint that he wouldn’t lose that part of him that loved you.
That Satoru who first fell in love with you at the age of six, got married to you at the age of twenty-five, and still loved you at the age of twenty-eight was the version of him that he wished not to lose.
He was an antagonist in his own tragic story and was merely a plot device to set up conflicts, obstacles, and challenges for the protagonist. Although in most fairytales, the main characters were granted a happily ever after, you and him were given an inevitable twist of fate.
Perhaps this was the end. Or perhaps it wasn’t.
Sometimes the end wasn’t really the end.
After all, this was a universe where he was a character with unmistakable flaws that could not be redeemed. While that may be true, he hoped that you wouldn’t forget that at a certain point, he was truthfully, unselfishly in love with you.
That in this universe and in all other parallel universes, he was and would always be sincerely yours.
