w0rm3y

[w0rm3y]

MILKING POPPIES || S. GOJO || CLARITIES & IMPULSES

TAGS: College AU, Best Friend!Gojo x Fem!Reader, but also CEO!Gojo (but it's different), friends to lovers, fwb, smut, slow burn, angst/comfort, fluff, Gojo is a simp for reader, like a hardcore simp, I am not joking

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, suicide, drug addiction, drug overdose, drug-induced psychosis, alcohol consumption, obsession, SA, violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, toxicity, depression, manipulation, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cheating, reader is OBLIVIOUS, everyone is making bad decisions, but it's fun THIS CHAPTER: mentions of violence and assault, toxicity, implied/referenced cheating, groping, it's a little suggestive, obsession, physical & emotional abuse, depression, Satoru is the bestest friend ever, but he's internally possessive, Suguru is a little bit dramatic, reader's boyfriend sucks big time, Satoru and Reader edging one another lol, also Shoko is pan, and Utahime is bi

SUMMARY: You meet a new friend, Satoru, who helps you navigate your screwed up, toxic relationship with your boyfriend. According to him, friends always do it better, even if you're too oblivious to notice that. Little do you know, your friend isn't the perfect guy you think he is, which leads you to being a pawn in his family's fucked up game.

WORD COUNT: 14k, loosely edited, sorry it's super long, but I'm trying to do something with the chapter layout. also, Satoru's pov is in here :)

|| Series Masterlist || CLARITIES & IMPULSES >MISTAKES>

Pessimists have one thing right, and that’s to never get your hopes up. If you set the bar of standards as low as it can possibly go, then on the inevitable day when the outcome of whatever situation doesn’t meet the sought-after standards, there’s nothing to be disappointed in, is there? There are no hopes to crush when they weren’t put out there anyway. That conviction, the good old sense of true faith, can live to see another day if your expectations are set so low. 

This philosophy applies to everything, and it pairs exceedingly well if you’ve also developed the ‘ignorance is bliss’ mentality. When these two dispositions meet up, they’re truly a powerhouse to be reckoned with. 

If ‘don’t get your hopes up’ was the large cement wall that enveloped a person’s heart, then ‘ignorance is bliss’ was the infantry standing guard outside that wall to protect the body’s most vital organ– well, one of them. 

The other vital organ, the brain, happens to look down at this debacle taking place in one’s chest cavity and scoffs. The brain thinks, How could something be so… stupid? Taking all this time to build a wall and downplay your intelligence into that of ignorance? How pathetic.

But right after that, the brain goes back to the self-deprecating delusion that it’s created for itself in an attempt to feign confidence while also maintaining comfort. 

You see, the brain and the heart don’t differ too much inside of a pessimist.

At least, not inside this pessimist. 

And by this pessimist, you’re talking about you.

You being this… shell of a woman, glancing back through the mirror at yourself like some sort of lifeless imposter. 

When did your skin lose its color? Just last week, you were glowing. When did your hair start seeming so dull? Wasn’t it only a few days ago that it was glossy? When did you tear your nails and cuticles apart? You swear, it hasn’t been that long since they were long, pink, and sparkly. 

When did you let yourself go?

For this internal question, you had the answer. 

It was in the form of a sickly purple bruise that you were nursing with an ice pack on your cheek. You should consider yourself lucky, though– at least the edges were starting to turn a greenish color. It wouldn’t be too much longer until it turned yellow and then faded into your skin. 

But, how long has it been exactly?

Five days?

Oh, but that can’t be true because Satoru sent you that message a couple of days ago.

Toru: Please open the door. Just let me know you’re okay. It’s been five days, and I need to know that you’re okay.

That was sent three days ago. Which made today… day eight of total isolation, and the only people who have reached out are Satoru, Shoko, Haibara, and even Suguru. You loved them all, but you couldn’t bear to answer them, much less face them, but that was only in Satoru’s case. He had stopped by every day since the incident, and you commend him for his effort, but you truly wish he’d stop trying. 

It’s making you feel worse that you don’t have the fucking balls to face the one person who gives you a genuine sense of security. You wish you could let him know that it has nothing to do with him. In this sense, and maybe every sense, you’re selfish.

You know these people are worried about you, but you just can’t face them with the remnants of what he did pressed into your face like black and blue ink. And he didn’t even have the nerve to call you back, not even a text? What a fucking joke, both of you. 

It really puts the whole relationship into perspective when you realize you’re just as fucked up as the other person. It makes it hard to separate for your own good when you feel like you deserve each other. And, God, did you deserve one another–two selfish jokes who don’t know how to fucking stop.

You pulled the ice pack away from the handprint-shaped bruise on your cheek, taking note of how nicely it paired with the swollen lip and dark circles. 

It’s… healing. 

And when it’s fully healed, you can get back out there and apologize for your absence with a much more believable sense of confidence. First on that list is obviously the one you’ve hurt the most with this entire charade: Satoru. 

He’s even sent the police to your apartment to do a welfare check, and fuck if that wasn’t the most humiliating experience of your life. To stand there with an obvious bruise on your cheek, face puffy from the substantial amount of crying, and have the police ask you if there was anything you’d like to report about domestic violence–you wanted to die at that moment.

It wasn’t long after the police left, after you clearly lied and said everything was fine, that you got a text from Satoru. 

Toru: I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I just needed to know you were okay. They mentioned you didn’t look so good, so I’m going to drop off some things at your door. 

That was day three into the isolation, and you’re sure if a welfare check required less than a 72-hour waiting period, they would have been here the evening of day one. 

On day four, he messaged you again. 

Toru: I’ll stop by after work to drop off food. I also got a hold of Haibara, and he’s going to gather up your missing coursework if you want to work on it. As far as your absence goes, I got the board to agree to one week of bereavement leave. If they ask when you return, your great-great-grandmother died in a car accident.

That was the first time you’d smiled in four days. 

On day six, he messaged again. 

Toru: Shoko brought in cookies. I’m going to drop off a container of them this evening. If you could, just leave the empty container in the hallway. I’ll get it when I drop stuff off tomorrow and give it back to Shoko.

You knew what he was trying to do, and it made your heart clench to see the lengths he was going through just to hopefully get a response from you– not even a conversation, just something to know you’re still alive. 

You were selfish to keep him waiting for a reply for this long, so when you put the empty container back in the apartment hallway, you left a note inside that said, ‘Thank you for everything. I appreciate your help, and I’m sorry for taking so long.’

On day seven, you found yourself in front of your mirror, desperately trying to coat your face in makeup in an attempt to hide this ugly bruise. The swelling had gone down, but there wasn’t any makeup within your means that could cover the bruise enough to not incite suspicion. You thought it had healed enough, and to see that it hadn’t was heartbreaking. 

You didn’t want to be locked up in here. 

But you didn’t want them to see it either.

You even considered Band-Aids, but to cover half of your face with them would raise more eyebrows than the bruise itself. 

You brushed the tears of frustration away just in time for the familiar knock on your door, followed by the sound of a crinkling bag being placed on the ground. His footsteps faltered, presumably when he found the note in the container, but seconds later, his footsteps continued down the hall. You grabbed the bag when you heard the hallway door slide shut. 

All of this led you to today, face still sore and bruised, now numb from the ice pack, but at least it was healing. The familiar knock on the door pushed you out of the bathroom and to the living room, where you heard Satoru place the bag of food on the ground. That reminded you that you hadn’t received a text from him today, which you found strange and… disheartening. 

You couldn’t blame him if he never wanted to speak to you again. You drove him to this point. If he wanted to cut you off completely, you’d understand.

You heard his retreating footsteps down the hall, followed by the outside door clicking closed, and that’s when you deemed it safe to collect the items from the empty hallway. Only this time, the hallway wasn’t so empty as he stood in it. 

At your door. 

In front of you. 

Your eyes widened as you frantically tried to get the door closed. His palm splayed flat on the door kept that from happening, even though you were putting your entire body weight into it. He didn’t make a noise and instead bent down, grabbed the bag, and stepped into your apartment. 

Since you had been putting your entire weight into it, when he let go, you fell into the door, slamming it shut. The sound echoed down the hallway, no doubt annoying the neighbors. The silence was deafening as you stared at one another. Your heart was thumping out of control, and you’re sure you looked an erratic mess, yet here he stood, perfectly calm and composed. His eyes scanned your face, lingering on the bruise for only a moment before he held the takeout bag in front of him. 

“Eat,” Satoru said with a sigh.

For the first time in days, you opened your mouth to speak, finding your voice terribly scratchy. “S-Satoru, I-”

“We can talk about it later.” He jostled the takeout bag. “Eat.”  

You shut your mouth again and reached for the bag, taking it with hesitant hands. “Thank you.” He only nodded before sliding out of his suit jacket and slipping out of his shoes, placing them by the front door while you set out the food on your coffee table. “Is this from that restaurant you took me to the day we met?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, lowering himself to sit across from you. “I got you what you ordered last time.”

“You remembered what I ordered? That was months ago.” You cleared your throat, finding the words to be straining. 

“Well, what do you remember about it?”

You snapped the lid from the container as you thought about it. “Nothing specific like what you ordered, but you remember the weather was nice and you brought me there at a good time, so the outdoor seating wasn’t crowded. Oh, and I remember completely forgetting that you were an asshole to me that morning, and that’s why you brought me to lunch in the first place. We were strangers, but it felt like we were already friends, you know?”

“Mm, I get the feeling.”

For the first time in days, you felt yourself reciprocate a smile. “Uhm, did you not get anything? We can split mine.”

He put his hand up to stop you. “That’s okay. I had a late lunch.”

For the next hour, Satoru and you sat on the floor while you finished up your food, talking and even playing with the cats once they warmed up enough to him. Surprisingly, you found them crawling into his lap more than yours. 

Traitors. 

He cleaned up the food when you were finished, even though you tried to stop him. He even put the leftovers into a container and stored it away in your fridge, but that wasn’t the most shocking part.

No, that would be when he led you into the bathroom and started undressing in front of your shower. 

“What are you doing?” you nearly shrieked, slapping your hand over your eyes but peeking just a little bit. 

“Showering.” He shrugged, slipping his shirt off over his head. “And so are you.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

He breathed out a laugh. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I’d say you need to shower instead.”

You lowered your hand. “Because I smell?”

“Maybe.” Your face burned, much to his amusement. “Kidding. You don’t smell, but you look like you need a shower. And a brush,” he commented, pulling at a tangled piece of hair. 

Your mouth dried as he pulled his pants off, leaving him in his black boxers. “And we can’t do that separately?”

“Nope,” he answered, reaching into the shower to turn it on. “I haven’t seen you in over a week.”

“You could just say you missed me.”

He faced you again, hands moving to the hem of your shirt. “You know I missed you. I missed you so much that you’re not going to leave my side all night. And after I make sure the rest of your body isn’t black and blue under these clothes, we can do whatever you want to do.”

Your smile fell. “What?”

“Which part-”

“That’s why you want to shower together? To check me for bruises?” Before you could turn away, his hand latched onto your wrist, yanking you back into his body. 

“Can you blame me? I got to spend this last week thinking you were dead. I thought the police were lying to me because if you were alive, why weren’t you responding to my messages? So, humor me, and let me make sure you’re okay.” His thumbs hooked into your leggings and peeled them down your legs. 

With a clenched jaw, you noticed his eyes linger on nearly healed bruises that were pressed into your hips. Specifically, the ones from the night on your couch. “Those are from me-?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly, looking away. “I don’t mind those if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He cleared his throat, scanning the rest of your body as he stood straight. “Is that why he did that?” He pointed toward your cheek.

“No, not… necessarily.”

“And that means what exactly?” he asked, helping you step into the warm shower, following you in, and closing the curtain behind you both. 

“I didn’t want him to see them, so I… I said I didn’t want to have sex, and it pissed him off.”

“So, he slaps you when-”

“He didn’t hit me.” He swiftly turned you around to face him, a look of anguish in his eyes as he silently begged you not to lie to him. You didn’t plan on it either. “He just grabbed my face a little too hard, but he didn’t hit me.”

Through clenched teeth, he grumbled, “Okay. I’m not here to change your point of view on it tonight, I just want to make sure you’re okay, so will you let me?”

Your lips fell together in a flat line. “That’s what you’ve been doing all week. I appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have to keep doing it-”

“For my sake, please, let me.” He leaned in closer, hands pulling you into his body as he hugged you tightly. 

“You really don’t have to, Satoru.”

“If I don’t– if I can’t fix what he’s broken and make you happy, I’m afraid I’m going to go out and find him and– and I don’t want to do that. So, for my sanity, let me take care of you.”

You found yourself agreeing with a timid nod. If that’s what he needed to feel at ease with the situation you’ve put him in, then so be it. But you soon found out that by ‘taking care of you, he did not mean treating you like a doll. 

He didn’t wash your hair for you. Instead, he grabbed the shampoo and handed it to you, allowing you to do it for yourself. The entire time, not once did his eyes stray lower than your face, and not once did he try to touch you; he just… talked to you. Just about normal things, what happened in the week that you were gone, what’s on the agenda coming up, just a simple conversation.

Even as you washed your face, finally removing the makeup you had put on in an attempt to cover the bruise, he didn’t comment on the true extent of the mark. Now that the makeup was gone, it was a lot darker than it was before. You knew it caught him off guard at first, but after a few seconds, his eyes moved to yours, and you continued where you had left off in the conversation. 

Once you rinsed off, he helped you step out and handed you a towel and a brush before wrapping one around his waist, taking a seat on the toilet lid, watching you as you fixed yourself up with your night routine.

You had to admit, when he first mentioned taking care of you, you were wary. You weren’t the type of person who needed someone to hold your hand and walk you through the difficulties that life threw at you. You could manage just fine on your own, but it was lonely, you could admit. 

Having him just be there, treating you like everything was normal, talking to you like you hadn’t been missing for eight days, it was nice. 

Once again, it reminded you just how easy it was to be around Satoru. 

“Are you spending the night?” you asked, finally turning off the hair dryer. 

“Do you want me to?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you wrapped the cord around the device, setting it aside. He was looking up at you expectantly, not giving away his inner thoughts. 

If only he were easier to read. 

You sighed, “I mean, you’re already here and it’s a bit late.”

“It’s only eight.”

Your mouth dried. “Oh, is it? Well, I guess if you want to go-”

“What do you want?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, anxiety starting to fester in your nerves. Without hesitating any longer, you answered truthfully. “I want you to stay. But, if you can’t– if you don’t want to-”

“I want to,” he sighed, pushing himself to stand to his feet. “Might have to borrow clothes to sleep in, though.”

You snorted. “What? Like one of my nightgowns?”

Surprisingly, he didn’t seem bothered. He only shrugged before replying, “If that’s all you have that will fit me, I don’t mind.”

Just the thought of Satoru donning one of your nightgowns made you laugh. “Let me check. I’m sure I have something.” You checked through your chest of drawers, coming up more empty-handed than you anticipated. It wasn’t that the size difference between Satoru and you was that big, but he was taller than you, and your short nightgowns weren’t going to cut it. 

You were about to lose hope when your fingers skimmed the bright pink, plush fabric of a specific pair of sweatpants. You remember ordering them a while ago, and you did not check the size before paying for them. In the end, you were sent a pair that was two sizes too big. They were a bit expensive, so you knew you should have sent them back, but you guessed they were going to save the day this time. When you handed him the pants, he gave them a glance over with an amused sigh. 

“They’re the biggest pair I have. I also don’t think I’ll have a shirt that’s long enough for you, but I can look-”

“That’s okay. The sweatpants will do.”

You parted ways for a few moments to both change into your clothing. Yours being a light blue nightgown, obviously, and Satoru-

“You’re seriously going to make me wear sweatpants that have ‘Juicy’ printed in rhinestones across my ass?” he asked upon entering your room. You held back your laughter with your hand and looked his outfit over. These particular pants were very low-rise rise and the black tank top he was wearing did not go all the way down. 

But, do you know what went all the way down?

A little happy trail…

Your laughter ceased as it got caught in your throat, leaving you slightly choked. Warmth spread across your face as you pulled your eyes away from his… lower area. 

“I don’t know, Satoru. I think they suit you,” you said, hoping to come across as playful instead of awestruck, but the way your voice cracked at the end, you weren’t fooling anyone. 

“If you say so,” he conceded with a shrug. “Alright, what do you want to do tonight? You can choose.”

“We could watch a movie?”

“Sounds good to me.” He sat down on the bed, moving over to give you the smallest amount of space, and relaxing against the pillow with his arms behind his head. When his eyes caught yours, he paused. “What?”

“There’s barely enough room.”

He glanced at the small space. “There’s plenty of space if you lie next to me.”

“Plenty of space? I’ll fall off the bed if you don’t hold onto me.”

“Obviously. That’s the point.”

“You want to cuddle?”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t say that word, ever. Too feminine to come from my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because you’re so masculine in the pink Juicy Couture.”

“Just come over here and lie down. Stop berating me.”

“Fine, fine, but scoot over just a bit. That isn’t enough room, even if you do hold onto me. I’ll just end up on top of you.”

“Even better.”

“Ugh, don’t be a perv.” Both of his eyebrows raised as if asking you to take a look in the mirror. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not a perv.”

He snorted, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto the bed. “Maybe not when you’re sober, but you’re definitely a perv when you’re drunk. A kinky perv, actually.” His hand settled on your hip as he finally moved over to give you space. “Definitely, freakier than you thought.”

Your thoughts drifted to the night you assumed he was referencing. However, you weren’t sure what he was talking about. Sure, he said you asked him to have sex with you, but…

“What are you talking about?”

“You were all over me in the car, and it’s a good thing I wasn’t wasted like you or things would have gone way further than they did.”

Further than they did?

“What do you mean further? What did we do? What did I do?”

“Hm, maybe I should save you the embarrassment-”

You gasped and shoved at his arm, causing him to laugh. “No, what did I do? You can’t hide that from me.” Your face burned just imagining what you could’ve done to make him say you were a pervert.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Satoru, oh, my god! What did I do?! What happened?!” 

His small laughter was a bit infectious, so keeping a serious tone was nearly impossible. His hand moved down your hip and hooked under your thigh as he pulled you to rest on his lap. Your laughter dwindled as he positioned you. “So, first, you sat on me like this.”

“Are you going to demonstrate?” you asked, humorously bewildered. “Is this a reenactment?” 

He smiled as his hands settled on your waist. “Can’t reenact it, there isn’t an audience to play their part.” Your smile fell as he continued. “Unless, of course, you’d consider the cats the audience-”

“Satoru-”

He caught your horrified expression and found it comical. “No one saw anything. I promise-”

“Saw what?!”

“My hand between your legs, you riding my fingers– though, I think you wanted people to see. You’re a bit of an exhibitionist. You taking your clothes off in front of me and Suguru before bed that night proves it.”

Death by mortification was possible, right? 

You shoved at his shoulder again, pushing him down flat on the bed. 

“Why would you let me do that-?”

He put his hand up, silencing you. “Don’t blame me. I was drunk, too. You were all over me, saying the nastiest things-”

“No-”

“Yes, you were. It was very persuasive– I had to do something to get you to calm down. But like I said, no one saw anything. Promise.”

Your mouth fell open. “That is so embarrassing.”

“It was hot as fuck.” His eyes dropped between your legs, where you were sitting right on his lap. “Maybe we should talk about something else if you’re going to sit on me like this.”

You gasped and scrambled off his lap, taking your spot on the small sliver of the bed beside him. “And you say I’m the perv.”

“I’m not the one who’s an exhibitionist– that’s you.”

“I am not!”

“Mhm, suuure. It’s a shame you don’t remember how soaked you were.” He leaned in closer. The look he was giving you made you warm between your legs. “And right as you started coming, Suguru started talking to me– you were dripping down my hand, clenching around my fingers so tight, I thought you’d cut off my circulation. You bit my hand to keep yourself quiet– you even bruised it, too.” 

He raised his palm, showing off the healing bite-mark bruise. As he pulled away, biting back a satisfied grin, you groaned, sending him an irritated glare.

“We should watch that movie,” he concluded, moving away from you to give you much-needed space. The air was thick with sexual tension, and the feeling was starting to make it hard to breathe. It was also starting to make you question things.

Would things between you and Satoru ever go back to normal? It seems that ever since that night at the frat house, the emotions, the feelings, all of it just kept building. You felt things for Satoru that you didn’t feel when you became friends– things you shouldn’t be feeling about a friend in the first place. Especially since you had a boyfriend. It made you wonder if Satoru felt these things, too. 

Sure, when you became friends, your first thought upon seeing him was that he was handsome. Who can blame you? The man was highly attractive. You don’t even think Charlie would blame you for it, either– god knows he finds other women attractive. The issue lies with the intent and the execution.

Did Charlie feel things about other people the way that you feel things about Satoru? Things that are just beyond attraction but not quite romantic? 

Oddly enough, the thought of Charlie feeling how you feel for Satoru about someone else didn’t bother you as much as it should’ve. However, even though you felt indifferent about it, you were still curious. 

Let’s say Charlie did have these feelings– and you also have these feelings, does Satoru have them, too? Feelings that stray past surface-level attraction– did you give him these cursed warm and fuzzy feelings like he did for you?

Probably not, right? The things Satoru has given you and done for you don’t compare to anything you’ve given or done for him. Actually, you don’t think you’ve given or done anything for him at all besides the companionship. Even with that being the only quality you bring to the table in your friendship, it was a piss-poor rendition of it. Was there anything more you could even do for him that wouldn’t cross some sort of line in your current relationship?

No, you don’t think so. This means the scales, in terms of these warm and fuzzy feelings, will always be tipped in his favor.

You needed to get this balance in check; you needed to get things to go back to how they were before. To the way things were before that turning point, that seemed to throw your relationship off kilter. 

It seemed that every time you and Satoru were together, there was always this heady and lustful fog that settled in the atmosphere, and you could only assume that’s his reasoning for going above and beyond for you. And, you’d keep letting him do that because this metaphorical fog affects you, too. 

During your inner turmoil, the movie ran halfway through before Satoru nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“You spacing out on me?” he asked, pausing the movie with the remote placed between you. “If you want to pick something else, go for it.”

Fuck, even something so simple as basic consideration and attentiveness had you mentally rolling on the floor. This was not normal, and it further solidified the fact that you needed to go back to square one. But how could you with everything that you’ve built up to in the last few months?

This… fog was a near constant. It needed to go away.

And in doing so, you can assume that with it will go the subconscious need to be around Satoru all the time, the warm and fuzzy feelings for Satoru, the arousal that seems to fester every time you’re around him, and the lack of interest in your boyfriend. Hopefully, it will fix whatever innate need Satoru has to spoil you all the time, too.

But, there was one thing that you thought needed to happen before you could reset everything, for you feared that if you didn’t, it would all build back up again and leave you in the same position. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning in front of you. 

You blinked, pulling away from him. “Yeah, I just um… we’re friends, right?”

He smiled and sat back. “I don’t think I’d be here in your pink sweatpants if we weren’t.”

Your breathing hitched then, mentally coming to terms with what you wanted– no, needed to do next. You grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

“The night at the bar… You said you liked touching me.”

His eyes widened then as he picked up on the tone shift. “Yeah, I did say that.”

“Even though I have a boyfriend?”

Satoru’s mouth parted in surprise as he moved forward, eating up the space between you. “Why are you asking me these questions? Where did you go during the movie?”

“I was just thinking that the easiest way to fix our friendship fully, to make it go back to how it was in the beginning, is to just get each other out of our systems and reset, you know?”

He frowned. “No, can’t say that I do.”

“We just fuck and get it over with.”

He raised a brow, repeating, “Fuck and get it over with? Get what over with?”

“This weird platonic sexual attraction. If we just do it this one time, then I think we can go back to normal. Then, I won’t have to worry about continuously fucking up with Charlie by getting too sexual with you, and you’ll have fucked me, so you won’t feel this need to go above and beyond for me.”

Satoru blew out a breath as you finished your explanation before leaning back to soak it all in. 

“Alright, that– that’s a lot of... repressed trauma to unpack so-” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as he continued, “First, as much as you’d like to think I’m moving mountains for you, I’m not. It’s the bare minimum. Second– and as fucking weird as it is to say this– I’m not giving you the bare minimum because I’m trying to get in your pants, I give you the bare minimum because we’re friends–wow, that doesn’t sound right, at all. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not your friend because I want to sleep with you. I’m your friend because I like being your friend.”

“But you want to touch me.”

Surprisingly, a slight blush overtook his cheeks. “Yeah, but that has no correlation to me doing things for you because you’re my friend. I like touching you– I like getting you off because… I don’t know– I just like it?”

“Even though I have a boyfriend?”

He deflated. “Yes. Even though you have a boyfriend. You know, this whole conversation makes no sense. You think if we sleep together, it’s just going to what? Go back to normal?”

“Precisely.”

“And that sleeping with me is going to make these feelings you have go away?”

“Mhm. And once these feelings go away, I can focus on fixing my relationship with Charlie.”

His jaw ticked as he surmised, “Bottom line is you want to fix your relationship with Charlie, and the key to doing that is sleeping with me once to get it out of your system?”

“Correct.”

“What if sleeping with me doesn’t fix your relationship with Charlie?”

“Why wouldn’t it? All these feelings and sexual encounters have stemmed from my sexual attraction to you, and if we just get that part out of the way, we can focus on being friends– just friends, and I can fix what I have with Charlie. And then, I won’t lose anyone in the process of fixing everything.”

He cleared his throat and patted your arm. “I really don’t think this will pan out how you’re expecting it to. You really want to live with the guilt of sleeping with another person while in a committed relationship?”

You shrugged, an internal battle raging. On one hand, he was correct. Sure, you would feel guilty. But on the other hand, what if you didn’t and you just kept fucking around until something really bad happened? What if Charlie finds out that you’ve been screwing around this whole time? 

But you could just stop, couldn’t you? Wouldn’t that be the easiest thing to do?

But that’s assuming you have the willpower and the strength to actually stop, and something tells you that won’t be the case. Satoru makes it impossible to want to stop.

“Would it be worse than what we’ve been doing? At least this time, it’s a one-time thing, and we’ll both be done. We can move past it and just be friends– without the sex.”

“Just one time?”

You nodded. “Just once. Then, we’ll both know what it’s like and we won’t have to dwell on the what-ifs.”

With a clear mind, you’re sure your brain would have been screaming at you for this. Into a megaphone with twenty sirens going off, telling you to back the fuck up.

However, with the mind-numbing, heady fog that had settled in the atmosphere, those sirens, the screaming– you couldn’t hear any of it. The only thing you could truly comprehend was the way your heart was telling you to lean forward and kiss him. 

So, you did.

As soon as your lips touched, he hesitantly reached out for you, slipping his hand underneath your thigh to drag you onto his lap. You hovered over him, hands pressing into the pillows below his head. The feeling, like all the other times, brought warmth to your chest, making your heart beat so fast– but always in a good way. It was a slow and cautious kiss as if Satoru was waiting for you to back out.

With his hand on your cheek, he separated your lips, gazing up at you with uncertainty– but not for himself; it was aimed toward you. 

“Are you sure? Because, if you’re just needy, I can get you off– we don’t have to-”

“I want to. Unless you don’t want to.”

“No, no. I want to...”

Then, a thought occurred to you, causing you to draw back. “But we’re still going to be friends after this, right?” 

You could deal with the guilt, you could deal with being a horrible person, but what you couldn’t deal with is losing him.

His hand soothed down your waist, moving forward until it splayed against your back before he flipped you over, leaving him on top. 

“There’s not much you could do that would keep us from being friends, and having sex with you is definitely not on the list.”

-Satoru-

In moments like these, where his willpower is being pushed to the ultimate limit, Satoru can’t help but wonder if there was hope for him at all. Has he always been so weak and rash? Or have these faults of his just recently manifested? Was it really the drugs that were exacerbating his tenacity, or were you just that good at stripping him of his moral integrity? Mentally, he was counting all of the reasons why this impulse was so horrible, and he did it all while partaking in said impulse because he could not stop.

He should, he really, really should, but how could he? How could he stop when your skin was dusted in the sweetest-smelling cocaine, your mouth dripping liquid ecstasy, each and every breath from you was like a plume of the most concentrated intoxicant, and fuck, the sounds you were making for him lulled him so deep into this overwhelming high–you were inescapable. You were a woman sent to tempt a reckless man like him, and it’s never made him feel so weak. 

He guesses he shouldn't feel too surprised about it; being weak runs in the family, as do raging dependency issues. Thank you, Umi and Moromitsu, for giving him such unstable traits, and thank you, Ren, for leaving him alone to deal with it all.

Being an addict, the ability to rationalize his mistakes was something that always came easily to him. At least, it was easy when being sweet-talked by the most addictive substance known to man. Each breathy exhale from you, each whispered plea to keep going, drowned out the persistent warning bells. Unfortunately, because he couldn’t hear those mental sirens, he had no guidance to decide what was right and what was wrong in this scenario.

However, he could feel what was right and what was wrong, and the way you were pulling him closer while you ran your hands down his torso had never felt so right. But thinking with his dick had never taken him to great places, so he tried to bring his decision-making skills out of his pants and back into his brain.

He should stop because you’re hurt right now–you’re only doing this because you need comfort… but Satoru needs comfort, too.

He should stop because he knows this won’t end the way you think it’s going to–sleeping with him isn’t going to make these weird sexually platonic feelings you have for him disappear… but if he keeps going, maybe those feelings will grow out of control until you’re really his.

He should stop because it’s only going to come around to bite him in the ass. It’s going to hurt like a bitch when he wakes up tomorrow and remembers how weak he really is for you… but is being weak really that bad when it feels so good to be touched by you like this?

He should stop because you’re going to realize that it was a mistake tomorrow morning, and while you’re hurting even more than you are right now, it’s going to hurt him to know that you regret it… but what if you don’t regret it?

The chances of that being true were too slim for him to be okay taking that risk. Allowing himself to cave into your touch, breaking down his willpower for you, was something he’d do over and over, until you told him to stop. But watch you willingly shatter your own resolve for something that wouldn’t be good for you anyway–he couldn’t allow you to be so self-destructive, no matter how badly he wished for you to continue.

Using your inevitable heartbreak if this moment should continue as his driving factor, his hands wrapped around your wrists, pushing them back into the bed to hold them in place. Your lips unlatched from his neck with a soft ‘pop’ and grazed his cheek as he lifted his face a few inches above yours. The reddish color on your cheeks spread across the bridge of your nose, fading down into your glossy, swollen lips that were starting to curl down into a frown, the longer he held you down. Those lidded eyes of yours seemed to dull when you caught sight of the hesitation he was feeling.

Could you see the raging internal battle that was going on right in front of you? Did you know that he was barely hanging on? 

Your plump lips parted to speak as you poked your finger into his chest. “You said you wanted to-”

He cut you off with a groan, head dipping onto your chest as his hands cinched in around your waist when he fell onto the bed, dragging you with him. “I do. Fuck, you have no idea how much I do.”

“But…”

With his eyes squeezed closed, he leaned his forehead on your shoulder. “But I can’t if there’s a chance you’re going to regret it, and I know you will-”

“I do.” He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder before pushing himself away from you, creating a foot of distance between you both on the bed. You looked down at the new space with a miffed glare and a ragged huff. 

“Your reason for wanting it is wrong. You think sleeping with me is just going to take away these supposed feelings you have because those feelings stem from sexual attraction? What are you going to do when you wake up tomorrow and I’m still the same guy you fell asleep beside? What are you going to do when you realize nothing has changed besides your body count jumping from one to two? You’re going to feel awful, and who’s going to have to try and make you feel better? Me, the man you made the mistake with, because there’s no way you could tell your boyfriend about it, your other friend is across the country, and trusting Haibara with any sort of secret is always a mistake. It’s going to sting so fucking badly.”

“Alright, if you just have all of the answers, how do you suggest we fix this?” You gestured between you both. “I have a hard time controlling myself, and so do you, Mr. Addict.”

Ouch…

“I control myself just fine as an addict-” Satoru wondered if that sounded believable at all. “But to answer your question, we can just… go back to the beginning and skip everything that’s going to make that harder, like having sex.”

No matter how badly he wanted to…

But the promise of keeping any kind of relationship with you was better than the pleasure he’d get from fucking you once, and then you leaving him alone once you realize it was a mistake.

“And you think that will work?”

He sighed and gave a meager shrug. “It should as long as there’s no temptation.” Quickly, he glanced at your clothing that was riding temptingly high on your thighs before bringing his attention back to your face. Luckily, you didn’t notice as you stared off at the opposite wall of your bedroom. “That means no coming onto me. And wearing underwear, too.”

You gasped, “I’m wearing some right now!”

“Bullshit. You never do, you liar.”

You rolled onto your back and slightly parted your legs, pulling up your nightgown just a bit, but not enough to see anything. While propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked at him expectantly, a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Don’t call me a liar until you know for sure. I might just shock you.”

Yeah, you shock him, alright… with how easily you make him gullible to your stupid lies–he paused as his hand slid under your nightgown, feeling right between your legs. Rather than finding it bare, it was covered in a pair of light blue lace panties that matched the nightgown you were wearing perfectly.

“Well, color me surprised. I was starting to think you didn’t own any-” The shrill sound of a phone ringing filled the room, startling you away from him with a shuddering gasp as your hands pulled at your nightgown, tugging it down to cover yourself. You gulped when his hand found your thigh, offering it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. It’s my phone. Probably Suguru.”

He moved to grab his phone from the top of your chest of drawers, finding that it was, indeed, Suguru calling. He wasn’t surprised, he’d been calling to check in with Satoru every night after work to see if he had any updates on you–among other things Suguru felt the need to concern himself with, much to Satoru’s dismay. Part of him wanted to tell you just how worried you had everyone when you disappeared, but the other part of him didn’t know if that was such a good idea. He didn’t want to make you feel worse.

“Hey, Sugu,” he greeted when he answered the phone, placing it on speaker so he could talk with you. “I’m with-”

“I need your help.” Taking note of the panicked inflection in his friend’s voice, Satoru began to panic, too. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing you looked equally as addled as he felt. “Shoko–Utahime… I just–I need help. I don’t know… just to talk, I think.”

“Suguru, you can come over if you need to,” you added, pushing off the bed to stand beside Satoru. 

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, good, because I’m in your parking lot right now. What’s your apartment number?” You and Satoru shared a knowing look before you gave him the number, and abruptly after, the call ended. 

“Why does he know where I live?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru answered, eyes settling on the healing bruise that marred your face. “Are you going to be okay with-”

Your smile was entirely forced, but still, you gave a sharp nod, choosing not to comment on it. Instead, you moved from your bedroom to the living room, where Suguru started knocking. As soon as Satoru opened the door, Suguru entered, still shaken up by whatever it was that had happened to him. He was biting at the skin of his thumb, slightly pacing until he came to a halt in front of Satoru, eyes honed in on his choice of pants.

“Are those Juicy Couture?” he asked, nodding toward them while breaking from his blatant trepidation. Satoru glanced down at them, too, before mumbling, “Maybe,” under his breath. Suguru resumed his previous thought, “We can… talk about that later, because right now-” His nervous pacing returned as he added, “Shoko and Utahime, they…” He trailed off, prompting Satoru to roll his eyes.

“Did they kick you out again? How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not a thruple, they just-” Satoru’s voice tapered off into silence as Suguru pulled two black and white ultrasound pictures out of his pocket, presenting them to him with a slight glare. Instantly, Satoru’s mouth dried. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh…”

“Mm,” Satoru hummed with a grimace, which was matched by his friend. 

“Mhm.”

“That’s bad.”

“So bad.”

You, still standing behind Satoru, hadn’t yet seen what they were talking about. “What’s bad?” Rather than verbally answering you, Satoru handed you the two ultrasound photos in his hands, which was then followed by a very similar response to the men before you had. “Oh…”

Suguru nodded in agreement before collapsing onto your couch, albeit a little dramatically, but Satoru believed it to be warranted in that moment. The room filled with an uncomfortable silence, none of them truly knowing what to say, but luckily, Suguru decided to speak and lessen the tension. 

“Did you know that if two women live together, their menstrual cycles don’t actually sync up? That’s a myth.” Satoru watched his friend toss his arm over his eyes with a blighted groan. “Did you also know that the fertile window can be a lot longer than a week? And that the menstrual cycle can fucking shift or something?”

“Did you read a pamphlet at the gynecologist’s office today?” Satoru attempted to joke, though his friend didn’t seem to find it funny. 

“Nope. Heard from the doctor’s lips as she tried to explain why both of my lovely ladies are pregnant at the same time.” He pushed himself up with a grumbling huff. “Apparently, the little period tracking app is a joke, which is odd because all three of us have different apps–why would one of ours not catch a life-altering change?”

You and Satoru took your places on either side of him on the couch. You opted to take a softer approach to the situation, leaning onto his shoulder and rubbing his arm while Satoru tried his best not to laugh. The memory of all of his friends saying that it was he who would end up with children first played through his mind. How none of them even considered Suguru to be the first father out of their group was beyond him.

“You, Kento, Yuta, and Ino owe me one hundred bucks, by the way,” he teased, nudging his side, only to earn the deepest glare known to man. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Have they even decided what they’re going to do?”

“They’re keeping them.”

“How do they feel about it?” you asked, locking your fingers with his. 

If Satoru were a lesser man, or maybe just a raging asshole, he might’ve ripped your hand from Suguru's. 

“Excited.”

“And you’re not, I take it?”

He scoffed playfully, leaning into you. “Come on, do I really look like someone who should have children?”

“Definitely. You’re too handsome not to procreate, especially if it’s with someone as beautiful as Shoko. I’ve never seen Utahime, but I’m sure she’s gorgeous, too. The world needs your genes out there.”

Suguru stilled, leaning back to look at you, as was Satoru after hearing that statement. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Your eyes flitted between the two men on your couch, widening by the second. “What? No! No, I would never sleep with you. You’re not my type.”

He scoffed, collapsing back into the couch. “I see. Dark-haired CEOs don’t get you going; it’s just the white-haired ones who act all mysterious.” Before anyone could answer, he continued, propping his feet up on the coffee table and turning on the TV. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Um, shouldn’t you be with your lovely ladies? They’re carrying your babies after all.” He brushed you off with a wave of his hand. 

“They went to Utahime’s parents to tell them the news.”

“Why didn’t you go-?”

Satoru tried to warn you, to cut you off with a subtle shake of his head. Your mouth fell closed as you sank into yourself, but it was too late. Suguru heard the question and began his ranting explanation. 

“Utahime’s parents hate me. They both gave her so much shit when she came out and started dating Shoko. Utahime and I were friends first, by the way–I pretended to be her boyfriend in front of her parents. Then Shoko started working with me, and I set them up. But now Utahime’s parents think it’s my fault she’s into women, too, and once they finally got over that, she let it slip that I was still… intimately involved. So now her parents hate me for, and I quote, ‘turning her into a lesbian’ and for continuing to bang her, because heaven forbid people have fun and enjoy a male and a female at the same time!” He groaned, crossing his arms to continue, “As if that’s how it works anyway, and it’s pretty telling when the ‘lesbian’ in question asks me to fuck her and her girlfriend. Clearly, I’m not that bad-!”

“I have neighbors-” you subtly added in hopes that he’d lower his voice.

“And now her parents are really going to hate me for not just knocking up Shoko, but Utahime, too! They’re going to look at me like it’s my fault, and they already send me religious articles about the sins of polyamory, and I can't take it! It's not like they wanted to get pregnant on purpose, I swear to god, the two women asked me for it! You should have seen the look in their eyes! It’s not like I could say no–side note-” He turned to Satoru with complete seriousness, motioning toward you. “That fertile window is no joke; if she asks you for it, fucking don’t-” Satoru’s hand pressed against Suguru’s mouth in an attempt to stop his rambling because, clearly, it was embarrassing you, if your flushing complexion was any indication.

“Stop talking.” With caution, he pulled his hand away from his mouth, daring him to make another crude comment. Thankfully, Suguru didn’t. “Who gives a shit what her parents think? Actually, since when do you give a shit about what anyone thinks of you at all?”

He huffed, “I usually don’t, but this is different. Any time I do anything to piss off her parents–which is honestly just my existence–they always take it out on Utahime and I’m afraid they might… turn her against me or something.”

“Get fucking real, Utahime wouldn’t do that to you. Shoko wouldn’t let that happen either-”

“You don’t get it; her parents actually despise me. Like it’s my fault for ‘corrupting their daughter into my lifestyle’. And it’s not just losing them, there are babies involved now.”

“Well, it’s you and your lifestyle that helped give them those grandbabies,” you added, “They can’t hate you for that, and try to keep you away from your own children. And Satoru was right; Shoko wouldn’t let that happen. I’m sure Utahime wouldn’t either.”

“Have you talked to either of them about this?” Satoru asked. 

“Pfft, of course,” he trailed off with a sigh, deflating into himself as the truth came out. “No, I haven’t.”

“Maybe start with that.” Satoru patted his shoulder before asking his final question, one that had been sitting in his mind since his friend pulled out the ultrasound photos. “Are you going to tell her?”

The implication of ‘her’ was clear to you; Satoru was asking about Suguru’s father’s assistant.

He gave a weak shrug. “Do I have to?”

“Yes-”

“No-”

You and Satoru spoke at the same time, cutting one another off. You looked at him inquisitively, and he looked at you just the same. “Why should he have to tell his fling that he’s a baby daddy?”

“Fling?” Satoru repeated, bringing the conversation back to the man between you. The relationship between Suguru and Yuki was a rocky one, but she was definitely not just a fling. Suguru liked this woman a lot, but Satoru guessed that you never had a chance to see what he does–or hear the things that he does. 

“That’s what he said at Vault Borealis-”

“Ah, I also said it was complicated. Which it is… and this is going to make it so much worse,” he whined, dropping his face into his hands. “She isn’t a fling.”

Your hand came down on his back to rub wide, comforting strokes while he grumbled nonsense into his palms. 

“If she isn’t a fling, you need to tell her. Maybe don’t go into detail about… well, the process like you did here, but you need to tell her.”

“Then she’ll know that I was with not only one person, but two while we were talking.”

Satoru cleared his throat, entering the conversation again. “You had her in your office every day. You’re also not very… private about your sex life, so chances are, she already knew you were with Shoko and Utahime. News travels fast in the office, you know that. Not to mention, she knows why your father hired her in the first place, and she still chose to sleep with you.”

“Why’d he hire her?” you asked, leaning forward.

“Yuki is very modest and reserved-” Suguru snorted at that, but allowed Satoru to continue. “Araya hired her in hopes that Suguru wouldn’t worm his way into her pants. Obviously, that didn’t work because she still chose to sleep with him even after his father warned her of his antics.”

“Ah, okay. Well, there you go, Sugu, you’re upset over nothing. Sounds like she knows you’re already a manwhore-” Suguru scoffed, head whipping in your direction as you brought your hand up to stifle your laughter behind it. “I’m kidding. Really, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I hope so.” He leaned on Satoru’s shoulder, tossing his arm over his lap. “Hey, what time is it?”

“Um… getting close to ten-” He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank god. I am starving.” Suguru kicked back on the couch again, flipping through the channels and movies. He caught your stare. “What? I ordered pizza in the parking lot. It should be here soon.”

Your brows knitted together. “Why?”

“Stress eating,” Satoru answered for him with a disapproving shake of his head. 

Suguru rolled his eyes, waving him off. “Don’t give me that-”

“This isn’t your place. You can’t just come in and make yourself at home-”

“Why not? You did.” He gestured toward the pink sweatpants his friend was wearing. “I know damn well those aren’t yours.”

“I’m borrowing them-”

“It’s okay,” you chimed in, “As long as Suguru shares a slice of pizza with me, he can stay.”

“Deal,” he began, subtly nudging Satoru to piss him off. “Do I get borrowed pajamas, too?”

You tapped your cheek in thought. “I think all of my nightgowns will be too short. But I do have a set that’s a bit big on me–the bottoms might look like booty shorts on you, though.”

“I think I can manage them.” Minutes later, Suguru emerged from the bathroom, shamelessly donning a white crop top and a set of light blue shorts that were too short for comfort. However, he didn’t seem to notice or mind, and at least he was fully covered. “This is sort of like a slumber party, you know.”

“Oh, sure,” you joked, “we should start doing face masks, make it official.”

“Do you have some?”

You cocked a brow at Suguru’s question. “Would you do one if I did?”

“Um, yes. Please.”

Your eyes widened, lighting up with a bit of excitement, which was a sight that Satoru was all too pleased to see. “Okay, give me a second.”

As soon as you disappeared into the bathroom, Satoru turned to Suguru. “This isn’t really a slumber party, you know.”

“You’re just upset that you don’t have any alone time with her. I missed her, too, you know? I was worried, too.”

“I know…”

There seemed to always be this overly obsessive feeling inside of Satoru that felt the need to keep you all to himself. Fortunately, he knew better than that, but sometimes he found himself slipping just a little.

Suguru continued, “Besides, she seems happy. She wants to do face masks–why would I tell her no?”

“And when she brings out her nail polish next?” his friend asked, raising a brow. 

“Then I’m going to go into work on Monday looking fucking fantastic with my bright skin and shiny nails. And guess what?”

“Hm?”

“So will you.” He poked Satoru’s shoulder, telling him what he already knew. After a few more seconds, he spoke again, bringing up a topic that Satoru knew was inevitable. “How are you after this week of work, which, you know, you weren’t supposed to be working-” Satoru let out a ragged sigh, preparing for the incoming scold. “Everyone knows you take off the first week of December-”

“I couldn’t take off the whole week and leave it all to Ijichi by himself. Had she been at work, I would’ve.”

“I’m sure we could’ve worked something out-”

“It’s fine. It’s over now anyway. No sense in dwelling on it.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, asking, “Did you at least visit the lake house Wednesday evening?”

Satoru cleared his throat, feeling as though he needed to defend himself. “No, I was busy-” Before he could berate Satoru any further for his selfish choices, he jumped to add, “But I’m going the week of Christmas. I will visit him, don’t worry. Not sure why it bothers you so much. He isn’t your brother.”

“But you’re my brother, and I worry about you-”

He groaned and moved away from Suguru, making him laugh. “I hate when you say sentimental, sappy shit.”

“You love it.”

“Okay, so I have a couple of different kinds, but they’re all for brightening.” You reemerged, carrying a few jars of cream in your hands.

“Slather me up. I want a glow that makes Shoko jealous,” Suguru quipped, earning your smile. 

Somehow, Satoru managed to avoid the spa treatments. Part of him was a bit peeved that Suguru was getting so much of your attention, but watching you two interact was a bit funny. You both were on your stomachs on the floor, your feet kicking in the air as you gossiped like old women. Suguru’s face was lathered in a pink cream with little clips holding back his hair, while holding his hand still so you could meticulously paint each nail with a clear coat.

You capped the polish when you were finished, twisting it shut. “I’m going to go get you something to wipe your face with. Be right back. Don’t touch anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know how nail polish works.”

Just as you left, the rapid knocking on the door signaled the pizza, much to Suguru’s excitement. He pulled himself off the floor, making his way to the door, but stopped short of it. Glancing over his shoulder at his friend, he waved his fingers. “Get me some money out of my wallet. I don’t want to ruin my manicure.

Satoru pulled a couple of bills from the wallet as he was instructed, handing them over to him while opening the door. However, the person standing on the other side was someone who… was not holding a pizza. There was a moment where all three men stood there, confused. 

“Who are you?” the stranger asked, pointing between the two friends. 

“I think the better question is, where is my pizza?” Suguru retorted, looking absolutely ridiculous with the pink paint on his face.

Now that Satoru was really looking at this stranger, he had to admit that he did look a bit familiar…

And the realization hit him harder than it should have. 

“Charlie…” There wasn’t any emotion he could pinpoint fast enough; they were all rushing through him at a rapid speed–he wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t manage anything else besides standing there, talking himself down from taking a swing.

“Charlie?” Suguru asked, tilting his head before making a sound of knowing. “Oh, that Charlie–oh…” His voice lowered when he saw the gravity of the situation.

“Where is she?” Charlie asked, anger rolling off of him in waves, smacking the other two right in the face. 

Suguru cleared his throat, leaning toward his friend to whisper, “Brotherhood says I have to jump in and help if you swing at him, but please don’t. My nails are still wet.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now,” Satoru stated, squaring his shoulders to bump Suguru away from him.

“Yeah? Let me hear that from her mouth.”

“Nope. The best you’re getting is hearing it from mine. Leave before you do more damage than you’ve already done.”

“Fuck you, I’m not leaving my girlfriend with two strange men. Why don’t you leave before I call the cops?”

“Um, we are not strange men, first off,” Suguru began, “We are her friends.”

“Friends? Last time I checked, she only has one friend, and I’m not seeing Maki here.”

“Suguru, I have the towel–oh, is the pizza here?” Your sweet voice drifted from inside the apartment, meeting his ears. “Why are you guys just standing there?”

But then Charlie called out your name, voice laden with nothing but lividity. “I need to talk to you.”

As soon as Satoru heard that tiny panicked gasp behind him, he moved to close the door. “Maybe another time.”

“Like hell, move and let me in.” He shoved his body onto the threshold, keeping it from closing.

“Hey, man, I don’t think now-” Suguru tried to intervene.

“You can’t do this!” Charlie shouted, fighting against the door. 

“You’re not getting in. Just go.” His pushing was relentless, but when Suguru finally joined, wet nails be damned, they finally got the door closed. That didn’t deter Charlie from banging on the other side, shouting expletives the entire time. With the door locked, Satoru turned toward you, trying your best not to cry. A broken sigh of your name passed his lips. 

You sucked in a breath and turned toward Suguru, motioning toward him with the towel in your hand. “We should wipe that off now.” His concerned eyes met his friends in a silent exchange of conversation, a single look that said everything it needed to. 

“Sure,” he conceded, allowing you to wipe off the pink cream from his face. The action was off-putting as you did it with zero emotion, not even a single flinch to the series of banging against the door just a few feet away. When you were finished, you placed the towel in Suguru’s hands.

“He isn’t going to leave until I talk to him-”

Both of them were quick to stop you from walking to the door. “Not tonight. You should let him cool off-”

“He won’t-”

“He will,” Satoru concluded, “He’ll calm down with time. Until then, why don’t we go watch a movie in your room?”

* * * * *

The next morning, Satoru woke to one body firmly pressed into his side, another sprawled out across his legs, and a snoozing black cat perched on his chest while the other cat occupied the pillow space above his head. When he felt something wet drip onto his bare foot, he glared down at Suguru, who was now drooling in his sleep. Without hesitation, he pulled his feet from under him and pushed him off the bed, making his friend land on the floor with a dull thud, waking up the other three.

“What the hell, man?” he complained as he pulled himself off the floor. You groaned, shuffling around to see what was going on. 

“You were drooling on my feet, you freak.”

“So you kicked me?”

“Obviously,” he sighed, wiping his eyes and pushing himself up on the mattress.

“Where’s my phone?” was the first question out of your mouth when you gathered yourself to sit up in bed.

That question spurred on the memory from last night, after you went to bed, leaving Satoru and Suguru awake in your room. Your phone began ringing nonstop from somewhere in the living room, which prompted Satoru to silence it and hide it, knowing that you were going to want to check in with Charlie in the morning. As Suguru had said last night, Satoru shouldn’t have done that, but he wanted to put off the inevitable for as long as possible.

“Hm, I’m not sure. We should look for it after breakfast,” Satoru suggested, not really leaving room for an argument as he rolled over your body to slip off the bed. “After all, Sugu didn’t get his pizza last night, so I’m sure he’s hungry.”

Suguru caught on to his friend’s tone and was quick to agree. “Absolutely starving.”

“It’s almost ten. We could go to Saffron’s for brunch,” Satoru suggested, glancing at the alarm clock for the time. 

“They aren’t going to let us in dressed like this, and the only other clothes I have are dirty gym clothes and my wrinkled suit from yesterday. Why can’t we just go to that shitty diner near Shoko’s? Those old ladies would kill to see my ass in these shorts.”

“You got food poisoning last time, and I don’t want to take that risk. Besides, you can get us into Saffron’s. They’ve been pestering Araya about adding a casino. I’m sure they’d be more than willing to seat us regardless of your attire, if you promise to put in a good word for them to your father.”

“Are you talking about Saffron Heights? That luxury hotel downtown? I called them about catering for that special meeting you had with those other CEO hotshots. Super expensive,” you added, and just as Satoru was about to open his mouth and spew the very same thing he told you came to his office, griping about how expensive the bill was, you cut him off. “It’s a pittance, I know, I know. You both are too rich…” you grumbled, pushing yourself off the bed. “But I did steal one of the cinnamon buns while I was setting everything up in the conference room, and it was really good.”

He looked back over to Suguru. “Call them and tell them we’re coming.”

He groaned and slid off the bed. “Fine.”

Not even an hour later, the three of you were dressed appropriately. Luckily, Satoru had decided to utilize your washer and dryer before bed, so he looked more put together than Suguru in his super wrinkly suit. But as shameless as he is, the wrinkles didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“I’m driving, by the way. Remember the Maserati I was looking at?” he asked, glancing at his friend as you locked up your apartment. 

“The GranCabrio?”

Eagerly, he nodded his head. “The model doesn’t release until next month, but I got it early. Wait until you guys see it. I got it painted Aqua Rainbow–totally matches your eyes, by the way. And thank god I went with the GrabCabrio because they almost had me with the GT2 Stradale. That one doesn’t have a backseat.

Satoru’s nose curled up in disgust, imagining what his friend was insinuating. “You decided between two cars based on the backseat? I mean, is the backseat even big enough to have two bodies back there anyway? And since when would you risk a car’s interior for sex?”

“I think he’s talking about having space for car seats,” you chimed in, stowing away your car keys in your purse.

“Exactly. Thank you.” Suguru laced his arm through yours, leading you toward the steps. “Maybe you should get your mind out of the gutter, Toru.”

“Don’t act like it’s something you wouldn’t do.”

“I wouldn’t. God, you act like I think with my dick all the time. Maybe like… forty percent of the time, but he’s never led me astray.”

Satoru snorted at that, remembering all the trouble Suguru’s junk had gotten him into. “Your dick has led you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun.”

When you started laughing, he dropped your arm and moved in front of you. “I’m not some manwhore, thank you. I am a-” Just as you all three stepped off the landing of the stairs into the parking lot, Suguru was interrupted but a familiar voice calling out your name. 

The three of you stopped as Charlie moved into view, stepping in front of you, moving closer. He looked different today, a stark contrast to the man who was banging on your door last night. His eyes were darker, and he looked almost defeated. Probably from the lack of sleep, as it seems he waited out here all night, hoping to catch you leaving.

God, it’s no wonder you always go back to him; he doesn’t give you a chance to process your own emotions before smothering you again. Maybe he knows that if he did, you’d have moved past him a long time ago.

“Can we talk-?”

“Suguru, go get the car,” Satoru said, tilting his head to give him the go. With a slight pout, he acquiesced, twirling his keys around his finger and brushing past Charlie on his way to the car. “We’re going to breakfast, so you’ll have to make this quick. That is, if she’s willing to talk to you.”

“Who are you? Her bodyguard?”

“This is Satoru, Charlie. He’s my boss.” While Satoru didn’t really appreciate being referred to as your boss rather than your friend–because that’s what the two of you were first–he knew you were trying to navigate this conversation with caution. After all, you were the expert in damage control when it came to Charlie. With that in mind, he chose to keep his mouth shut for your sake. “And that’s Suguru, my other boss–kind of. Remember, I work at Limitless.”

“And you just… have your bosses over to your apartment to spend the night?”

“Well, they’re also my friends.” The shake in your voice was too noticeable for Satoru’s liking. “I was out of work for a couple of days because I didn’t feel too good. They were just coming to check on me.”

Satoru was starting to recognize the man from last night, the one who had such an indignant air to him, standing in front of him rather than the defeated man from just a few seconds ago. He had such a dead, hollow look in his eyes, but not in a depressed sort of way–it was a look he wasn’t able to fully understand. He seemed… crazed.

“And you didn’t think to call me? You called them instead?” he surmised bitterly.

“They came over on their own.” Both of his brows rose as a slight twitch pulled at his upper lip. “Satoru has been stopping by each night to drop off food and my school work, but I haven’t been letting him in,” you jumped to add the last part when his posture shifted. “I-I was feeling better last night, so I let him in. And then Suguru called, and he needed to… talk about some things-”

“Like what?”

“That’s not really any of your business,” Satoru snapped, growing impatient with the conversation. Fortunately, Suguru’s new sparkly blue car pulled up beside you both, cutting their conversation short with his muffled music thumping through the over-the-top speakers.

The passenger-side tinted window rolled down, allowing the club music to spill into the air. He turned it down and leaned over the console. “We should hurry. I told them we’d be there before eleven.”

“I have to go, Charlie,” you mumbled, backing up toward the car. “We can talk later-”

“No fucking way-” Satoru pushed his arm away when he made a grab for you, something Charlie was quick to deflect by batting his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat, taking a step forward in your direction. 

“She said she’d talk to you later.” Satoru slid into his path, blocking him and allowing you enough time to get into the car. “Give her some fucking time and space. That’s all she wants. I think she deserves it after the shit you’ve put her through.”

“You think you fucking know her? Just how close are you two?” he jeered, pushing at Satoru’s shoulders, which served as a reminder that his rising temper would lead to him confronting Charlie, and doing that while stone-cold sober was not a good idea. If it continued, his already feeble grip on his emotions would break, and by the end of it, would cause you more pain than Charlie was worth. “Are you the fucking guy she was with during our breakup? She’s fucking you, isn’t she?”

 “No, she’s not,” he countered, creating a bit of distance between them by shoving him back. “We’re friends-”

“Bullshit-” Charlie ate up the space between them again, only to push Satoru back with his hands on his chest. “You’re the reason she’s been so distant with me, aren’t you?!”

His resolve was crumbling, his sanity depleting, and all with one simple question. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You think it’s my fault she’s distant from you? Have you looked at yourself?” This time, Satoru shoved him back harder than he intended, sending him stumbling back. Before he could close the distance between them again and do what his brain was begging him to, Suguru was beside him. “You are a dick, and you treat her like shit!”

“You don’t know anything about us! You think she’s fucking perfect in this relationship?!”

“As far as your relationship goes, yes! You’re both fucking toxic, but until she drags you through broken glass, locks you out of your own apartment to trash your place, and bruises your body because you do things she can’t control, she’s fucking leagues above you!”

Fuck, if he were to really think about Satoru’s answer, he might ask himself what mistakes you’ve made in this fucked-up relationship that are bad, but not to the extent of what Charlie’s done. Fortunately, Charlie didn’t seem to notice–probably because he’s so self-centered to think about you even as they argued over you–but Suguru definitely noticed. 

“You need to leave before you say something you shouldn’t,” he spoke discreetly as he pushed harder against his friend's shoulder. His comment was sobering and aided in pulling him away from the argument. 

“Do you even know what she’s done to me?!”

“I couldn’t give two shits about what she’s done to you!” Satoru spat back, tossing it over his shoulder as he slipped into the passenger seat. As he began rolling up the window, Charlie’s last insult made its way into the car.

“She’s a bitch and a fucking whore! So take her! She’s yours!”

As the car pulled out into the road, an awkward silence filled the space, broken only by the quiet sniffling from the backseat. Satoru turned to see you blinking back your tears of embarrassment while you stared out the window. He knew you noticed his focus on you, but you clearly were too mortified to comment on it. There wasn’t much he could say to ease your mind; this was a problem he’s faced many times before when it came to the issues between you and Charlie. So, like all the other times he’s been left speechless, he offered what little comfort he could.

He said your name, reaching back to place his hand on your leg, giving it a consoling squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to-”

“Don’t apologize. Everyone has boundaries; he should respect yours.”

You cleared your throat, probably swallowing back tears before you spoke, “I just hate when he makes a scene like that. It’s embarrassing.”

“That was nothing,” Suguru snickered, “What’s really embarrassing is how he’s tailing me in his shitty SUV.”

“What?” you asked, turning around to see that he was indeed following your group. “Oh, my god.”

“Christ,” Satoru sighed, bringing himself to face forward again, making sure to buckle himself in properly before grumbling, “Just turn around and put on your seatbelt.”

“He’s going to follow us all the way to the restaurant–I’m so sorry. Let me out, I’ll talk to him-”

“Nonsense,” Suguru began, brushing you off with a grin. “We’re about to hit the freeway.”

“So what?” You turned around in your seat, buckling your seatbelt like you had been told. “He’s still going to follow us there. Just let me talk to him. He doesn’t give up, Suguru.”

“Maybe he doesn’t give up, but that car he’s in definitely will.”

“Huh?”

“The Maserati GranCabrio goes from zero to sixty in two-point-seven seconds,” he gushed, patting the dashboard in front of him. “In other words, my car is fast, and his is not.”

“Oh,” you exhaled shakily, “Please don’t kill us.”

“Relax.” He leaned forward and turned up his music before making a turn onto the freeway, where he demonstrated how fast his car really was. In two-point-seven seconds, you were already way ahead, and in five, his black SUV was hidden in the lanes of cars behind you. With Suguru speeding, you made it to Saffron’s on time, almost as if there hadn’t been a holdup in your parking lot.

After brunch concluded and the owner told your group not to worry about the bill, the three of you made your way toward the exit, discussing the evening's plans–or lack thereof. Truthfully, Satoru planned on staying with you again to make sure Charlie didn’t do anything he shouldn’t. He was even contemplating bringing you over to his house just to be safe. However, before he could ask, a familiar voice called out to Suguru.

Instantly, he froze in place, hesitantly turning to look over his shoulder to see the woman he definitely wasn’t prepared to talk to. He forced a smile and straightened, turning to greet her. “Hi, Yuki.” She returned his smile with a meek one, tucking some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “What are you doing here?”

“Your father sent me to deliver some documents to the owner. Something about adding a casino to the hotel or something.” Her brown dark brown eyes flicked to you and Satoru. “Hi, Mr. Gojo and… Mr. Gojo’s assistant. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, but I’ve seen you around Limitless. I’m Yuki.” She held her hand out to you.

You gave her your name, though it was given rather shyly with your face slightly tilted away. Satoru was reminded then of the bruise on your face, the one you’d tried your best to cover with makeup, but it was still a bit noticeable. However, it seemed Yuki didn’t notice, and if she did, she didn’t let on. Instead, she let out a delighted hum.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she hummed again before dropping her hand, turning back to Suguru. “Are you working, too? I could’ve delivered your stuff for you.”

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t work on Saturday, Yuki. And neither do you. You should have told my father to shove those documents up his ass.”

With a playful glint in her eye, she responded, “I would never speak of your father that way. I quite like my job.”

“And all the benefits that come with it, too, right?” His tone shift was very much audible. 

“And what would those be, Mr. Geto?” 

Had Suguru not mentioned to Satoru about Yuki’s seemingly innocent disposition, he’d assume she didn’t pick up on the double meaning of his question because the tone in which she spoke was nothing short of professional. 

“Paid time off, pension plans, dental, very friendly upper management, the list goes on. If you need a copy of the employee benefits package, I’ll personally deliver one to your office on Monday.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I have a laminated copy filed right next to the sexual harassment policy.”

Yikes, Satoru coughed into his hand. 

Suguru didn’t miss a beat. “Great. You can read over that policy on the way to my office the next time you need some friendly conversation with your favorite CEO.”

Satoru rolled his eyes at their blatant display; could they be any more obvious? Hopefully, they don’t act like this in front of Araya because the sexual tension between the two of them was very palpable.

“It’s presumptuous of you to assume you’re my favorite CEO when Mr. Gojo is standing right behind you. He is the more tolerable one out of you two.” She didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed as the retort rolled off her tongue. Suguru, however, took offense to the comment. 

“Fine. You can make your way to his office when you start feeling so lonely.”

She gave an indifferent shrug. “Maybe I will.”

Suguru groaned with his head tilted back and his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Hard to say. I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“We’re going to Vault Borealis tonight-” Since when, Satoru thinks. “-I’ll pick you up at eight.”

She pursed her lips. “Hm? Eight? I might be busy then-”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Make it eight-thirty-six, and you have yourself a deal.”

He huffed, “Fine, fine.”

“Eight-thirty-six sharp, or I’m not coming-”

“Yes, I know.” After saying your goodbyes and exiting Saffron Heights, Satoru promptly pushed at Suguru’s shoulder. “What the hell?”

“You know what. I didn’t agree to go out tonight-”

“Well, I’m sorry! I panicked, okay? She makes me nervous if you can’t tell!” He turned to his friend, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Please, Satoru. Please! I’ll never ask for anything ever again! You know I need you with me!”

“Ugh, get off of me.” He pushed him away and turned to you. “Do you want to go?”

“Sure?”

Suguru let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll pick you up at your house at eight. That will give me plenty of time to get to Yuki’s at eight-thirty-six.”

|| Series Masterlist || >MISTAKES>

a/n yap session: hi, loves! so, I'm about to be annoying, but I have to do it for my sanity. I need to move around the chapters in order to fit them how I want them, and to also avoid as many cliffhangers at the end of chapters as possible. So, I'm going to be combining the chapters I already have posted, and from here on out, we're going to have longer chapters. I hope that made sense. For example, the first two chapters (Limits and Instincts) and going to be combined into one, and so on. This way, we won't end up with 40 chapters, and instead only 20 :) Originally, this book was going to be split into two parts, because part one ends with about 150k, and I estimated 150k for part two, too, but I don't want to have to split the book up. It shouldn't cause any issues, but I just wanted to let you know in case you go back to find a certain chapter or something and you can't find what you're looking for. And if that happens, just lemme know! I can help you!

Second thing to mention, because I think it's funny as fuck, is your comments about Reader. Most of the experiences between Reader and Charlie are inspired by true events, and lemme tell you that everything you're saying about her is correct lol. I started this book (not as a fanfic) like as soon as I broke up with my ex, and it was to serve as a reminder of why I should never go back to him. But it's just Reader's relationship with him that has a tiny bit of inspiration--everything else is entirely made up for funsies.

Also, fun fact (maybe a little pathetic), before I broke up with him, I read a Nanami fanfiction, and you know how he's always so sweet and a good husband--that was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I was like, I need someone that treats me like Nanami treats Reader fr. Anyway, all is good now. He can't reach out to me without catching a stalking charge now, and I get to write fanfiction in peace :)

taglist is open :) @man1cslut @tetsuski @arrozyfrijoles23 @kazukuro @salmonroebonitoflakes @raritysspouse

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XVII. MACE

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: violence, blood, mentions of suicide and death, explicit sexual content, anal play, oral (f!receiving), manhandling lol, vaginal penetration, size difference, reader is back from the dead, and she's pissed, but also fluffy moments between them and baby Yuji :)

a/n: Hi, loves! So, this is the last chapter that I have prewritten so far, which means updates are going to slow down. Instead of daily updates, it'll probably be closer to two or three times a week.

WORD COUNT: 7k, loosely edited

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >TBD> MACE; ρόπαλο; rópalo

“And this is enough?” You heard a male voice speak, though it sounded so muffled under the intense pressure in your head.

“Do you doubt me?” the other person asked, tone entirely irritated and terse.

“It’s been almost two weeks-”

“She was a half-decayed carcass when I started, and the replacements you’ve given me weren’t in the greatest condition either,” the second person huffed, “Her body has accepted the lungs and she is breathing; her brain has been saturated with the proper fluid and is working again–I am a necromancer , not a fucking healer so cut me some slack.”

He sounded familiar, you think…

You drifted back into the unknown shortly after that.

* * *

“It’s been a month now, Kenjaku.”

Kenjaku…

You know him, you think…

“Be glad that she is still unconscious while her injuries heal. You don’t want to explain where they’ve come from, right?”

“If it meant having her cognizant, I wouldn’t mind.”

More sleep, more darkness, more floating.

* * *

“They look fairly healed now. Why isn’t she waking up?”

“Soon, Sukuna. She’ll wake up soon.”

Another round in this little cycle of yours.

* * *

“The generals are adamant about speaking with me about this battle.”

“So, speak with them, Sukuna.”

Sukuna? Sukuna, Sukuna…

You know him, you think…

“Our little blossom is still healing on the inside. You have time.”

Sukuna? Sounds so familiar…

The man dubbed as Kenjaku continued, “I’ll come get you if she wakes.”

Sukuna… you know him, don’t you?

A vibrant memory resurfaced the more you thought about this man.

“I want to be treated as a wife-”

“So you’ve said. And as I’ve said, you are treated like a wife. You’re treated like my wife, and if I want to treat my wife like a slave, so be it.”

No, this… this man doesn’t treat you like a slave. Sukuna wouldn’t treat you like a slave; he treats you like his wife… you think.

“Look at me...”

You wanted to, so badly you wanted to. Every part of your body was telling you to just open your eyes and see him–to see Sukuna, because you know him.

Another memory rushed into your head, just as vivid as the one before.

“I’ve given you permission to look at me, and you’re closing your eyes?” He taunted, giving your face a gentle slap, forcing your eyes open. “There we go. You do have beautiful eyes.”

Beautiful eyes, beautiful dark red eyes–Sukuna’s eyes… you think.��You wish your eyes could look like his; they’re so perfect.

Memory after memory pushed to the front of your mind.

“If I ever catch you without the blindfold, I’ll cut your eyes from your skull,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that was too sweet to come from a man like him.  

No, he wouldn’t take your eyes. No, you don’t think Sukuna would do that because you’re his wife–you think you’re his wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

Why does he say things like that to you if you are his wife?

Are you his wife? Sukuna’s wife.

You hate him, don’t you? He is so cruel, so mean. A monster.

Sukuna is fuel for nightmares. 

But your husband… he's different.

“I know I can be harsh sometimes, but your misery is not something I strive for.”

Your husband can be so sweet…

“I’ve never known fear until tonight. Please, don’t do that to me again.”

He can be so soft for you…

“You were made for me. Just for me.”

He needs you…

But Sukuna is your husband. Sukuna, the cruel, monstrous god, is your husband. You would never want that… you think.

Another memory replayed your own words back to you.

“I like the pain. I like giving myself to you like this. I like the ownership.” You released a shuddering breath when he licked a sordid stripe over your rapid pulse. “But I can’t see depravity in it. This collar of bruises is one I wear with honor. I take pride in being your wife, in being your queen. I know you feel the same.”

“I do.”

How could you say that? More than saying it, how could you feel that with so much conviction? 

You love him, don’t you? The monstrous god. 

“Look at me.”

You love him.

“Open your eyes.”

You love him.

“Please, sweetheart.”

You love him.

“I need you to wake up.”

The nausea turning in your stomach forced you out of your sleep and into the land of the living. You sat up straight, dry heaving and panting as the ringing in your ears became so loud. Your fingers curled into the sheet, knuckles popping with the pressure as you grappled with reality. On the back of your hand, the sight of your veins, thick and pulsing with pitch black blood, kept you grounded, as did the newfound patchwork design you had on your skin, enough to take in your surroundings.

You were alone. In Sukuna’s chambers.

Alone.

That fucking bastard left you alone again.

Seconds later, you were stumbling through the doors.

You moved with precision through the halls of the castle, breezing past servants without even sparing them a glance. You weren’t sure where you were going, but your body seemed to know. No one tried to stop you. Even as you stomped down to the training field, not one soldier said a word.

Locating the behemoth you had the pleasure to call your husband wasn’t difficult; he stood out against the rest of the mortal men. With his armored back turned to you, he listened while three men in front of him spoke with their heads bowed in respect. None of them saw you coming. In fact, you moved so fast that not even Sukuna registered your presence until he was midair.

Yes, midair, because you threw him. 

You actually threw him, that behemoth you call your husband. 

But despite being that behemoth, his agility was perfection, and his reflexes were unmatched. His boots hit the ground, as did his left hand when he slid across the training field, tearing deep divots in the grass as he went. Eyes that held a level of rage you’d never seen met your own, but quickly softened into complete disbelief. 

It was cute, you would admit, but the novelty of it depleted rapidly as your anger flared once more. 

He didn’t move as you stalked towards him. Instead, he opted to rake his wide eyes over your entire body. It pissed you off even more. 

A soldier stood nearby with his weapon–a mace . Frozen in shock like everyone else, the soldier didn’t stop you from stealing it out of his hands before you continued on your path toward Sukuna. It was only then that he seemed to realize the severity of the situation. He raised his hands, eyeing your weapon that you were swinging in a circle with each step you took. 

He spoke your name, letting it fall past his lips in a soft tone, but that only made your dripping animosity worse.

“Shut up!”  

He evaded your first swing, but not the second, though it had only grazed his arm. He hissed in pain, glaring down at the new, dripping wound before turning his heated stare to you. 

“You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing the spiked end of the mace at him. 

“I know, I did.”

“I fucking hate you!”

His face fell. “No, you don’t-” 

You swung again, hitting his chest, slicing off a few layers of the skin that weren’t protected by the armor he wore. He dodged the next one with ease. 

“And you must hate me!”

“That’s not true-”

“Then why did you leave me?!”

The next two swings landed, and they landed hard. 

And they pissed him off.

Good , you thought.

“You left me in our room! You left me on the surface! You keep fucking leaving! Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of eternity, Sukuna?! If so, the next time I fucking kill myself, let me stay dead!”

But that made him livid.

He batted away the next flurry of strikes as he said, “We can talk about this, but I refuse to do so while you’re acting this way.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, I want to beat the shit out of you! I want to kill you!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Stop it.”

But you didn’t stop. If anything, his warning added more fuel to the fire.

“Fight me, you coward!”

“I will not!” 

His palm managed to clamp down on the mace as you went in for another attack. The spikes cut through his hand, but he didn’t even flinch. Blood dripped from his fist, streaming down his wrist as he held it in a tight grip. Without thinking, without hesitating, you used the mace lodged in his hand as leverage to hoist yourself up and hook your legs around his neck. The quickness of it made him stumble, and while he was caught off guard, you yanked him to the ground, where he landed on his knees in front of you. 

Your tears began spilling then as the adrenaline of it all got to you, twisting your nerves until they started to snap. He’d never looked so startled before as he did in that moment, when he realized you had managed to put him on his knees. The hand that wasn’t gripping the handle of the mace struck him across the face, and the sharpness of the slap echoed across the silent training field. 

“That ,” you snarled, leaning in closer, “Was for slicing in the back of my ankles to keep me trapped here.”

Another slap struck his cheek, harsher than the one before. 

“That was for all the punishments I endured.”

Another. “That was for Yorozu.” And another. “That was for being a bastard.” Once more, you struck him, and like the slaps before, he let you. “And that, Sukuna , is for leaving me alone .”

You ripped the mace out of his hand, not minding the blood that spilled from him. Pressing your foot into his chest, you knocked him flat on his back and stepped onto his torso, bloodied mace under his chin to raise his eyes to yours. He grabbed onto your ankles, not to toss you off his body, but to hold you steady.

“Sweetheart-”

You dragged the mace to his mouth to silence him. 

“Try again. Address me properly.”

You watched as his pupils dilated–why did he look so… aroused?

“My queen,” he began as soon as you moved the mace away from his mouth. “I’m sorry-”

“Save your apologies.” You dragged the mace down to his neck, pressing ever so slightly into his pulse. “You don’t want to fight me, that’s fine. But you’re going to accompany me to the hot springs. And you’ll hold me as you play with my hair. And you’re going to dine with me and feed me. You’ll serve me until I tell you to stop. Do you understand me, my king ?”

Eyes fluttering shut and exhaling a breath, one that almost sounded like a moan, he nodded. 

“I want to hear words-”

“Yes, my queen.”

You hummed in approval, eyes brushing over the man you had missed so terribly. He could kill you right now if he wanted to, but he held you still to make sure you wouldn’t fall off his chest while you took your anger out on him. It was warranted anger, and it had been the festering kind, the kind that was always so close to boiling over. And today it finally did, and he let you release it in the only way you knew how. 

You needed it, and he knew that.

Because Sukuna knew everything about you. 

Gods, you love him.

“Good. Keep impressing me, Sukuna. One day, I might reward you for it.” You dragged the mace off his throat and stepped down off his chest. Dropping the weapon onto the ground, you dusted off your hands, mumbling, “It’s a long walk back, and my limbs always seem to ache after coming back from the dead. You’ll carry me, won’t you?” 

You knew you didn’t have to ask; he would have done that anyway. 

Two strong arms raised you off the ground, and instinctively, you molded against his torso, wrapping your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist. The walk across the field was silent, but as soon as we started up the path on the hill, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Sukuna?”

“Hm?”

“I missed you.”

He let out a sigh of relief as his hand came up to the back of your head. “I missed you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Your lower lip trembled as the tears began to spill once again. 

Even with my head pressed against his neck, you could feel his pulse spike, and that was something you didn’t realize you had been craving to feel again. 

“Did I do well?” you asked, leaning back. “Do you think they’re scared of me? The soldiers?”

He glanced at you with a smirk. “You just used a mace against me, brought me to my knees, and slapped me in front of all of them without losing a single drop of your blood. I think they’re terrified, though I’m not sure why that would be your goal.” 

You felt a warmth seep over your cheeks. “Did you like it?”

His hand slipped up to your chin, thumb tracing over your bottom lip before he kissed you so softly. Pulling away all too soon, he said, “I did like it. And as soon as your body is checked over, I’ll show you just how much.”

* * * * *

“How long was I out for?” you asked Kenjaku as he slid his hands over your arms, feeling for any injury. 

“Two months. Does anything hurt here?”

“No. Where’s my mother?”

“I don’t know. What’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes at that question, batting his hands away from your head when he slid his hands up to the sides of your face. “What do you mean you don’t know where my mother is?”

Kenjaku sighed and stepped away. “I am not the keeper of Manami, little blossom, and for the time being, you should focus on healing rather than the whereabouts of others.”

You recalled the time you spent with Sukuna in the hot springs earlier and then in the dining room before he brought you to your chambers. You had asked him multiple times about what had happened when you were out, but he wouldn’t say a word about it. Instead, he’d tell you the exact same thing Kenjaku was telling you right now: don’t worry about it, take time to rest and heal.  

How could you not worry about it? Two months of your life passed without your knowledge, and everyone around you seems to be holding onto it like it’s the biggest secret the world has ever known. 

But you dropped the subject and decided to ask Sukuna about it again later.

“When can Sukuna and I have sex?” you asked bluntly, finding that you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shy about it.

“Whenever you feel up to it, I suppose. Everything on your body is healed nicely, but your muscles have deteriorated. I would suggest letting him do all the work, or you’ll tire quickly.” Giving your body one final inspection, he stepped away. “Should I deliver an elixir tomorrow morning?”

“Please.”

“Of course.” 

With one last nod, he disappeared, leaving this new tune to deafen your ears. It wasn’t just the overwhelming, muffled static of the usual silence anymore. No, ever since you woke up, there had been this constant buzzing noise filling your head, mixed with a sickly sound that you couldn’t name. It was a disgusting symphony that left your stomach churning.

You groaned and lowered your head between your bent knees to ride out the nausea. You made a mental note to ask Kenjaku about it later. Luckily, you weren’t left to the grotesque music for much longer because minutes later, Sukuna returned to your chambers. 

Your head perked up upon his arrival, and you found a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. It wasn’t reciprocated; your smiles usually never were with Sukuna, but the look in his eyes told you he was just as happy to see you as you were to see him. And just as happy as you were to see him, you felt the same about his bare chest and broad shoulders that graced your vision. He’d lowered the top of his himation, now opting to tie it around his waist.

You suppose it was midsummer now; it was rather hot, but since waking up, you’ve found yourself to be quite cold. You would appreciate his body heat this evening, even more since it was coming from his naked torso.

Sukuna noticed you staring and glanced down at himself. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just appreciating your god-like physique.”

He eyed you dubiously before saying, “ God-like implies that you’re comparing my body to that of a god, which is something mortals do, and I am, in fact, not a mortal because I am a god. My body isn’t god-like, it is a god's body. ”

You rolled your eyes. “Why can’t you accept the compliment?”

“I have, but I needed to point out your redundancy first.” Dropping the topic, he ventured toward you, asking, “Did Kenjaku finish checking you already?”

You hummed in agreement, taking his hands into yours when he moved closer to the bed. When he was near enough, you tugged him down beside you and took your usual spot on his lap. 

“He’s making an elixir and will drop it off tomorrow morning.”

“An elixir for what? Is something wrong with your healing?” Much like Kenjaku had done earlier, Sukuna started sliding his hands over your body, searching for some kind of injury. 

“Oh, yes. I seem to have this ache,” you sighed, allowing him to keep searching. “It’s quite bothersome.”

“Where?” There was a tinge of worry that tainted his face as he gently brushed his hands down your arms, even checking your hands. “Where is it?”

His concern was cute, but you felt bad for allowing him to worry after he’d done it for two months straight. 

“It’s beneath my garment,” you said, reaching up to pull the pins from your shoulders. As you placed them aside, his hands made quick work of peeling them away from your body, and before you knew it, you were flat on your back with Sukuna looming over you as he inspected your torso. You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your breasts before he suppressed his desire for the sake of your health. If only he knew…

“It’s lower, Sukuna. Near my thighs.” Using that as guidance, he slid his palms down to your thighs before faltering. Under his heated gaze, your legs instinctively pressed together. He saw it, and when he did, the concern seemed to flee his senses. Sukuna sighed and moved his hands to your upper thighs, thumbs wedging between them to pry them apart. Once they were spread, your wetness cooling in the air, his head lowered as he groaned.

“Did Kenjaku say this was okay?” he asked, his massive palms tracing up and down your inner thighs. 

“He did.”

“And the elixir you spoke of is for…?” 

You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting his lusty stare as you muttered, “Guess.” And for the first time since he entered the room again, you saw a semblance of a smile curl onto his mouth before he lowered it to your pussy, placing a gentle kiss to your clit before retracting. You scoffed, “What the hell?”

“What?” He feigned innocence as he worked to untie his himation from around his waist. 

“You can’t just kiss it better with one measly peck–I said it aches, I need more.”

Once his garment was unknotted, he tossed it on the floor before pulling you closer to him by your hips. “That wasn’t a kiss to make it better,” he tutted, sliding the tip of his hardened cock against you. He thrust inside without warning, filling you completely, leaving both of you to shudder in the feeling of it. It was a stretch, but one that you could most certainly handle. His hand pressed into the mattress by your head to support himself above you, while his other hand rested on your jaw, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

“But I promise I’ll kiss it better when I’m done with you, okay?” Your nod was subtle as you looked at the beautiful man above you, leaving you in a puddle of lusty awe. “Good because I need it. Two months without you and I’m starting to go stir-crazy.” 

He pushed himself back and placed both of his hands behind your knees before pressing them back into the mattress. His eyes fell to the spot where he was pulsing inside of you. “You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you?”

Still awestruck and unable to form words, you nodded, only he didn’t see it because he was staring between your legs. At your silence, he glanced up at you and patted your outer thigh a couple of times, softly saying, “Speak up, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

Your breathing hitched, and you whispered, “I’ll tell you.”

“Mm, and what are you going to tell me?” he questioned, equally as delicate as before, and looked down where your bodies connected again, this time thrusting languidly and shallow.

“I-I’ll tell you… if it hurts.”

He paused then. 

“Good.” The hands he had on your thighs held you steady as he leaned back, pulling you on top of him until you straddled him, his cock fully buried in you. The feeling of his tip pressed firmly against your cervix created a wave of cold chills that crashed over you like freezing water, but his hand holding onto your jaw again was enough to quell the cold. “No tears, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a little shy. “No tears. Promise. But, Sukuna…”

“Hm?”

“Kenjaku said my muscles have deteriorated. I’m not sure I’m fit enough to be on top right now.”

He only blinked before slightly pursing his lips, eyes flicking over your face. When his lips parted, he gently inhaled before saying, “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You reeled back, blushing furiously and addled to the core to hear something like that ever come out of Sukuna’s mouth. In fact, you were so confused that you didn’t have a chance to put together a sentence to ask why he just said something like that. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” 

Of course, the pestering made it all worse as an almost mortified gasp fell from your lips. You knew his question wasn’t mocking you; he was genuinely curious. 

“I think you did, look at this,” he cooed, tracing a finger over the apples of your cheeks, his eyes following its path. “Perhaps when I say you’re stunning and beautiful like I usually do, I don’t say it with enough conviction if a simple compliment like that has you so flushed.”

The tip of his finger continued across the bridge of your nose, tracing over your other cheek.

“I spent two months without seeing any sort of color on your face. Forgive me for my fascination, but this is…” Sensing his own straying voice, his eyes snapped to yours as he dropped his hand. “It’s fucking pretty–what were we talking about before?”

You raised a brow and said, “Kenjaku said I shouldn’t be on top because I’m weak.”

“Right,” he mused as he shifted his legs, bending them at the knee to place his feet flat on the mattress. The movement of it jostled you, shifting your upper body to lie flush on Sukuna’s chest. “Put your hands on my shoulders and hold yourself up.”

“Uhm…” you trailed off, wondering if he’d sense the issue. “I cannot reach your shoulders like that if you have me placed down here on your lap. Your torso is a lot longer than mine. I believe the times before you’ve taken me from behind, or I’ve ridden you, or you’ve been on top.”

A frown tugged at his mouth, a furrow forming between his brows. “I can only kiss you when you ride me while I’m sitting up.”

“Aw, you want to kiss me?”

He rolled his eyes at the question. “Obviously, but it seems our position options won’t allow for it.” As he raised you off his lap, he continued griping, “I don’t understand why you don’t mirror my stature when you mirror everything else of mine.”

You landed on your hands and knees in front of him, bouncing slightly before he grabbed your hips, raising your ass off the bed to meet his cock. “Forced to fuck you like you’re a doll, when all I want is to fuck you like you’re my wife–I can’t even see your face.” Your eyes widened as you glanced over your shoulder at him. You met his gaze and watched as he rolled his eyes, huffing, “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Understand what? That the king of the underworld is also the king of bitching and moaning?” You giggled until his right hand abandoned its hold on your hip and slapped harshly against your ass. 

“Watch your mouth.” 

Any backtalk you had prepared was silenced with that first deep thrust. Your breathing hitched, and when he pulled out, you exhaled. He only gave you a few moments to get used to the feeling before some sort of string inside of him snapped, and he began to fuck you like this wasn’t your first day back from the dead. But it was your first day back, and after two months of nothing, you were craving this. The only downside was that you had promised him no tears, but this level of pleasure calls for them. 

Luckily, your face was buried in the mattress. 

It wasn’t just that he was thrusting into you; he was also moving you with his hands, holding you off the bed by your hips. Each push forward with his hips, he was dragging you down his cock with his hands. And he timed it all so perfectly. You could hear just how soaked you were with each slap of his hips against your ass, and that only drew more arousal out of you, to the point you had tiny rivulets of it painted down your inner thighs. 

His pacing faltered for a second before he let out a deep groan, trying to maintain the rhythm. He snickered to himself before pulling you down his length again, and then stopped. 

“That thing in you is a greedy little bitch, do you know that?”

Panting, you lifted yourself up on shaky arms to glance over his shoulder. “Are we talking about my entity? Or you?”

Rather than acknowledging your comment first, he dropped his hold on one of your hips, allowing your knee to fall to the bed before he brought two fingers to his mouth to coat them in his spit, then said, “Well, it’s not me begging to fill your here, too.” You tensed when he traced his finger over your ass. “And I don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head. “It’s okay. If that’s what she wants.”

He hesitated before saying, “But is that what you want?” His finger was already circling you there, just barely dipping inside as he waited for your answer.

“I think so,” you answered after a few beats of silence. 

“I’ll be gentle, but first-” he leaned back to grab the pillows from the head of the bed. “You need to rest your knees on these to hold your ass in the air.” He positioned them under your knees, which propped your lower half up so he wouldn’t have to hold you, then wet his fingers again.

Just as he eased the first inside, you flinched, making him freeze. 

You’d done this before, but this time was different. Your body was less prepared for sex now than it was when your entity was frothing at the mouth for it all those months ago. That being said, it was many months ago that you even had sex at all.

“You have to relax or it's going to hurt.” 

Your knuckles cracked from how hard you were curling your fingers into the bedding. 

“I know,” you meekly replied, burying your face in the mattress again. 

“Hm…” He leaned back, pulling away his hands. You felt something warm drip onto you there before his fingers worked to smear it around. He traced the rim as he bent forward again, his other hand moving to the space beside your head to hold himself over you. His cock began to sink into your pussy before pulling out in short, languid strokes as he said, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Cold chills broke out over your body as you felt his lips brush over your shoulder with each word he spoke. 

“Proud of you for trying, though.” His voice sounded like a purr as it crossed your skin. Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling of it. Kisses were placed on your shoulder blade, and with each one trailing up, you felt yourself beginning to relax until, finally, he got to your neck. Just before he could press a kiss there, he eased his finger inside, forcing a delicate moan out of your throat. You felt him smile against your skin, muttering, “There you go,” as he kissed your thumping pulse. 

I let out a shuddering sigh and pushed myself up on my hands to meet his mouth in a rough kiss. His tongue pressed against mine as he groaned, hips slovenly speeding up to a somewhat sloppy rhythm. The position was a little awkward, but somehow he was making it work just fine– perfect, even.

You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, taking it between your teeth to apply enough pressure and break the skin. As soon as the metallic taste coated your tongue, you moaned into the kiss, and Sukuna did, too. You wanted his teeth in you, too, so fucking badly. However, you weren’t sure if he would do it given your current state. But even just the thought of him sinking his teeth into your neck had you clenching around his cock, pleasure rapidly spiraling in your lower stomach. 

Now completely relaxed, you felt his finger softly dipping in further to your ass, twisting before he pulled it halfway out to repeat it over and over. It was slow, not like the pace he was keeping with his hips pummeling into the back of your thighs. You were close already, but you didn’t want this to be over so soon. 

You broke from the kiss, breathing heavily as you whispered against his lips, “S-Sukuna, I’m– gods – I’m so close.”

“I know,” he breathed, head falling into the space between your neck and shoulder as he peppered your exposed throat with kisses and warm flicks of his tongue. It was all so much, you couldn’t even breathe properly. Your lungs had inflated completely, but it was like there wasn’t enough air. You had climbed so high that there was no more oxygen. You were just teetering at the edge of this cliff– “Go on, sweetheart.”

Your breathing hitched, your body tensed, and your back arched deeply as you began tipping too far on that ledge you were balancing on. 

“Mhm,” he hummed against you, and the vibrations of that sent you plummeting off the cliff, crashing down into soul-crushing, senses-stealing orgasm headfirst. Your body caved in on itself as your arms gave out on you, leaving you to fall onto the bed while chanting his name, cursing and moaning so loudly that the entire castle knew exactly what was happening in here. Everything was tingling, even down to your fingers and toes, and he worked you through the whole thing. It felt like minutes of twitching in overwhelming pleasure before it began to recede. 

Only when you’d come down from that beautiful high did you realize you were sobbing, and of course, he was alarmed. His fingers slipped out of you and slid under your stomach to raise you off the bed. At the same time, he pulled his cock out of your pussy, and he turned you to face him, so you were sitting in his lap.

“Hey,” he cooed quietly while sobs shook your body. His fingers brushed away the hair that had been sticking to your face as he pulled you in closer. “What did I say about the tears?”

“I-I’m not hurt–I’m… I’m f-fine, ” you cried, sniffling as he brought you to his chest. 

“You don’t seem fine.” A blubbering whimper escaped you as you curled your arms around his neck. His calloused palms slid down to your waist to hold you steady as he whispered your name, almost like a warning.

“It felt too good. H-Happy tears, promise.” He seemed hesitant still. “I just missed you, and I never want to leave you ever again.”

Only then did he relax, a noticeable tension leaving his shoulders. “I know.”

* * * * *

The incessant buzzing sound that played in your head over and over hadn’t let up for days. The second you’d find yourself in silence, you could always count on this new melody to fill your mind. And if it wasn’t the buzzing, your head was filled with a slimy, sickening sound that left your stomach churning up a storm. It was disgusting, and sometimes, it took your appetite from you. Sukuna noticed, of course, and was quick to point it out at dinner.

“It’s just nausea. I keep… hearing things in my head, it makes me feel sick,” you said, picking at the pomegranate in front of you. His red eyes lingered on you before flicking to the woman standing at the door, waiting for an order. “It’s fine, Sukuna. I’m not that hungry-”

He hushed you, waving you off. “Hatsuyo, see if the kitchen has something that could settle the queen’s stomach.” When she was gone, he reached out for you and dragged you into his lap. “Don’t act like I haven’t noticed you haven’t been eating like you should. If you were nauseous, you should have said something.”

“I could have, but then you’d make me eat, which would be counterproductive while my stomach hurts.”

“Do you think maybe your sickness comes from not eating in the first place?”

“No. As I said, I keep hearing things.”

“And these things you hear are making you feel sick?”

You nodded, cheek brushing against his bare chest. He’d folded down his himation again, thanks to the summer heat. Still, you were rather cold despite the rising outdoor temperature. 

“It’s a disgusting sound–I can’t really describe it. It sounds like buzzing, like bees. And something slimy squirming around–I only hear it when I’m alone.”

“Well, it is the season for bees, woman. And with all the flowers that are blooming in your garden, plus the beehives, there are a significant number of them around. And the only time you are alone is when I leave you for a bit in our room. I instructed the servants to keep the shutters open because of the heat; maybe that’s why you’re hearing them.”

“Maybe,” you sighed, nestling against him. 

“I’ll have them closed. See if that fixes it.”

You hummed, a smile tugging at your mouth. “Thank you.”

“Mm…” He pressed a kiss to your temple just in time for Hatsuyo to enter the dining room again, this time with a cup full of some sort of liquid. “What is that?”

“Ginger tea, my king. This is what the kitchen staff suggested the queen try. I assumed this was urgent, so I told them not to bother heating it up to steep, as the fire would have taken too long. Would you be able to?”

“Give it here.” He grabbed the cup from her grasp, holding it in his hands for a few seconds to heat it up gradually, until it was steaming. “Thank you, Hatsuyo.”

You smiled at this usage of manners and took the cup from his hands, while Hatsuyo stammered for a response. The warmth from the cup felt too good against your chilled fingers, and even better going down into your empty stomach. Your nausea was quelled almost instantly. You offered your thanks to Hatsuyo as well, relaxing back into Sukuna’s hold to take another sip.

“Better?” he asked, brushing your hair behind your shoulder. 

“Immensely.” Letting out a relieved breath at your answer, he picked up the halved pomegranate, holding it in front of you to pick at, which you did. “Sukuna, can we visit the nearby village–the one with the market? I haven’t been to one in… well, over two years. And, you know, I’ve never been able to explore the land I am the queen of. Can we? Tomorrow morning?”

With a voice that screamed hesitation, he said, “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“My delicate, mortal wife-”

“I threw you across the training field. That hardly counts as delicate-”

“It was a fluke of your entity, I’m sure. And, not that it matters , I was caught off guard-”

You sat up abruptly, almost spilling the drink. “And the fact that I was moving so fast that you did not know I was behind you has to count for something! I am mortal, yes, but delicate, not so much. Besides, you’ll be with me.”

He huffed, “I don’t know-”

“I would like to go–Hatsuyo, will you tell Unoko of our plans tomorrow morning? I want to bring Yuji. She’s more than welcome to come with us, but if she’d like to stay and have time to herself, that’s okay, too.” Sukuna groaned in defeat at your order, resting his head against your shoulder. “Oh, and tell the kitchen, too. I don’t know how long I anticipate us being there, so it's better to be safe than sorry by packing our meals to go.”

* * *

The next morning, as you allowed Hatsuyo to dress you, you kept in mind how warm it was outside–or how warm it was to everyone else–and dressed accordingly. Your garment was a bit revealing, and it had been quite a while since you last wore something like this, but it was customary. 

The only downside was the patchwork design that patterned your chest now. Scars, in such a light ashy color, were scattered on your skin, showing that you had been sewn up while you were healing for those two months. Still, neither Sukuna nor Kenjaku would tell you what truly happened. But today was not the day to ask because you were too excited to go to the peddlers’ market. As you stood in the corridor, waiting for Sukuna, Hatsuyo’s voice cut through the air as she asked, “Are you nervous, my queen?”

“Nervous? About what?”

“I’m unsure? You keep scratching your arms. I wasn’t sure if you were feeling anxious about our outing today.”

You looked down at your arms, finding that you were, in fact, scratching at them. So much so that there were red marks scattered over them instead of just the scars. You dropped your hands to your sides, forcing a smile.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just excited. It’s been so long since I’ve engaged with the public. Speaking of, my outfit hasn’t become… outdated, has it?” You smoothed your fingers down the silken himation you had tied around your hips.

“Well, some go without the breast belt nowadays, but I’m not sure King Sukuna would take too kindly to that level of nudity in such a public area. Forgive me, but I’m not sure where the overlap lies when it comes to commoner versus regal clothing. Either way, my queen, I think you look beautiful as always, and no matter what you wear, the public will appreciate your presence.”

“Thank you, Hatsuyo. Uhm, just in case, would you mind grabbing my cloak?”

She raised a brow. “Your winter cloak? It’s very warm, my queen–can I grab your palla instead?”

“Yes, that should be fine.”

As soon as she was gone, only for a moment did true silence ensue before your mind was filled with that irritating sound again. Not only was it making you feel sick, but it was also bringing on such a feeling of agitation. You were sick of hearing it over and over again. You wanted it to stop. No, you needed it to stop-

The feeling of a hand gripping your jaw pulled you out of your thoughts, forcing you into the present to remind you that you had zoned out. Your savior was none other than Sukuna, who was toting a snoozing Yuji in his other arm.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, just lost in thought, hearing those noises.” You held your hands out, flexing your fingers. “Give him to me.”

“Are you sure you want to bring him? He can’t walk, and the poor thing is constantly exhausted , so I don’t see the point. You’re just going to carry him around all day, which is going to make you tired, and then you’ll hand him to me. While I don’t mind handling the creature, should an issue arise where you need my help, I’ll be down an arm. His presence cuts the chance of your survival, and for what? So he can sleep while we wander amongst the mortal scum-”

You raised your hand in an attempt to put your finger to his lips, but the contact stopped just short of his mouth. He glanced at the digit, eyes narrowing on it, nonplussed. 

“Hey, lovey. Can you put aside your pessimistic prejudice for mortals for one day?” The tops of his cheeks reddened, presumably at the nickname, but you decided not to comment on it. “I want to see what the underworld really looks like while not confined to the shrine’s perimeter.”

“The shrine’s perimeter is safe-”

“And Sukuna’s perimeter is safe, too. Probably more than the shrine.” You dropped your hand to his chest, giving it a delicate pat. “I have faith that you can keep me safe. You’ve kept me alive this long.”

He pursed his lips, taking in a breath before asking, “So, we’re just going to forget the seven times you’ve ceased to live?”

You shrugged. “Technically, one of those times wasn’t your fault. The other six times only happened because of your negligence-” He barely flinched at your explanation. “But it’s different now. Also, I can keep myself safe.”

“Again, I’m going to bring up the seven times-”

“Ah ah, shush. I’m done talking about it.” You took a step back and nodded toward your outfit. “Now, I need your opinion on my attire.”

He gave it a once-over. “It suits our destination.”

Not really the answer you were hoping for…

“But is it… pretty?”

“Mm, spin for me.” When you did so, twirling in a full circle, he nodded. “Very pretty. As is your hair.” 

You raised your hand, grazing it along your headscarf that all your hair was piled into, save for the few tendrils framing your face. You preened under his compliment. 

“Thank you, my king.”

“Mhm.” He held his palm out to you, which he used to pull you closer before hoisting you into his arms. “Unoko isn’t coming with us.”

“I figured as much when you showed up with Yuji rather than her. She deserves a break after taking care of him the whole time I was healing.”

He snorted. “You think she was the only one taking care of him?”

You glanced up at him with surprise. “Did you help?”

“Of course, I did. I assumed your role to the best of my ability. Finally got him to not burst into tears every time he sees me, too.”

Your eyes widened. “Impressive. I figured you would have been too busy training the mortals to spend time with him.”

He brushed you off. “Nonsense. I can multitask.”

Your shock came to an abrupt halt. “What?”

His stare met yours. “What?”

“What do you mean you can multitask ?”

“I mean what I said. I can spend time with him and train the mortals at the same time-”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what? Why do you look angry?”

“Did you take a baby to the training field?” you asked, feeling exasperated at the notion of it. When he sensed your tone, he averted his eyes, which you were quick to reel back in with a firm grip on his jaw. “Did you take Yuji, a five-month-old infant, to the training field?”

Through the forced pout you’d created by holding his face, he mumbled, “Perhaps.” You gasped, and he winced. 

“You can’t do that!”

“Why not? He was perfectly safe. Uraume guarded him if I needed to demonstrate something to the mortals. It’s not like I was fighting with the child in my hands, woman–stop gasping at me like that, he’s fine. In fact, he enjoyed it. On multiple accounts, I heard him laughing.”

“That does not make me feel better!”

“The child was having fun-”

“He shouldn’t have to see things like that at such a young age!”

His brow furrowed as he began to grow irritated with the argument. “I witnessed worse at his age, and I turned out just fine.”

You scoffed, “You’re not saying that seriously, are you?”

“Hm? Are you saying there’s something wrong with me?”

“Yes, Sukuna, there is something wrong with you. Everyone knows that, it’s why they fear you–you rip people apart. You look death in the face without any emotion-”

He nodded. “I’m the god of the dead for a reason-”

“And my baby is not a god at all!” You held Yuji closer. “You’ve probably traumatized the poor thing.”

“Trauma builds character, wife.”

|| MIS M.List || >TBD>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: I just wanna let everyone know that the comments you all left on the last update were so so so fucking sweet! As are the asks and messages you're all sending in! I know I don't respond to each of them, but I am reading them, and they really do mean the world to me! I've been uploading stories online for over ten years, and I've never had such kind and supportive readers as all of you!! I love and appreciate all of you so much! <3!!!

Taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy @blkmystery

[w0rm3y]

came here after seeing rewired for humanity on my feed and been hooked ever since. i just spent the whole day reading milking poppies. as in 8 hours of just binging the hell out of it. what i thought was gonna be an innocent friends to lovers, break up w your bf fic turned out to be so much more. it's so insane. your writing is amazing! can't wait for the next updates 🙏🏼

Omg, I'm so happy you're liking it!! ty ty ty for reading!! ILY <333!!!

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XVI. PETALS

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: extreme violence, graphic depictions of death and dead bodies, blood, BODY HORROR, torture, mentions of suicide, angst, hurt/comfort, this chapter ends on a lighter note, I promise

a/n: so, here it is, you guys. I'm nervous to post this because how much fantasy is too much fantasy, you know? I know it's an AU and it's also fanfiction, so I can really do whatever I want with them, but still, I fear it's not meshing as well as I think it is. You guys lemme know tho! Three new characters in this one (Nyx!Kaori, Ares!Toji, Athena!Maki)

WORD COUNT: 12k, loosely edited

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >MACE> PETALS; pétala; πέταλα

It had always been a possibility, Sukuna knew that, but you had made progress on the surface–though it was minimal. He thought it would be enough to keep you from doing something rash. 

How stupid of him to assume you, his dear wife, was anything less than incautious and impulsive.

Though he couldn’t help but feel as though it was his fault. Once again, your death was on his hands. He promised himself that he wouldn’t allow you to take your own life for a seventh time because it would break him–it was breaking him–and if he didn’t rein himself in soon, he would make your incautiousness and impulsivity look like child’s play. 

As sick as it sounded, he hoped it wasn’t you who ended your life. He hoped it was someone else, someone who could give him an outlet for all the feelings, but Sukuna was realistic–to a degree–he knew the truth of the matter. You did this to yourself, and it was because of him, because he wasn’t there, because he left you alone.

He didn’t mean to. 

If only that gods forsaken portal had been open a second longer, he would have made it through. Granted, it would have meant a week-long absence of his in the underworld, but at least you’d be with him–at least you’d be alive. 

He didn’t want to meet you again under these circumstances, where your brain didn’t work and you had no autonomy, which would leave you to wander aimlessly, cold, and alone by the river. You wouldn’t know his touch, you wouldn’t even know that you were dead. You’d be just another lost soul, and it was all thanks to him.

“If she died on the surface, how did you feel her soul near Acheron? She would have been led to the Styx for the ferryman to escort here.”

Megumi only shrugged. 

Sukuna had learned long ago that the god of blessed death was also the god of few words, so he couldn’t allow himself to grow angry with his prodigy, for he didn’t know any better. Finding your soul was more important than griping over a lack of explanation. 

As they searched for you, Sukuna took note of each sound that made Megumi jump with frantic nerves. A large wave that crashed too harshly against the bank, a wailing soul, a crunch of bone under his foot, all of them served to make the younger god jolt with anxiety.

“Still just a scared little ghost, aren’t you?”

“Not scared of you,” he whispered, kicking the blackened sand toward Sukuna, who eyed the crumbs that now stuck to his garment with an unimpressed huff. 

“I appreciate you coming to me about this. I know leaving the cellar is difficult for you.”

Once again, he only shrugged his shoulders in response. After a few moments of searching, Megumi stopped and grabbed onto Sukuna’s arm. “Your mate. Her name?” When Sukuna gave it to him, his brows pushed together as he frowned, clearly agitated, “I do not know her yet.”

The accusations only served to make Sukuna smile, despite the given trepidation crawling over his skin like insects. “Do I have to run all of my partners by you?”

“Special partners. Yes.”

“I see. Then I apologize for the wait.”

Megumi sighed and released his hold. “You forget about me.”

“That’s not true. I think about you every time I pass the cellar doors. Or see an apple.” His jest did not go over well with him. 

“Which is never.”

“Don’t tell me you missed me, Megumi.”

Rather than answering, he stormed off down the beach, and like always, Sukuna didn’t chase after him. He never did, and the younger god never expected him to, either. Instead, he kept looking for your wandering soul. He could feel it nearby, lurking somewhere.

There was a vibration that would settle in his fingertips when you were close. Your spirit lit up with anguish that was too palpable for his liking. It burned, and seared, and fried that entity inside of him, who hadn’t calmed down since Megumi gave him the news of what he’d felt. It would be so easy for him to hand over control, to submit to his inner entity’s demands, but that would leave the rest of the world susceptible to its havoc. Unnecessary death was just a waste of time, and that was too valuable.

It wasn’t just about finding your soul before it could wander too far; it was also about getting back to your corpse before the elements became an issue. How long had it been since you passed? Hours? Days? Surely, your mother would have pushed past her pessimistic views of the underworld and stepped through the portal to tell Sukuna what had happened to you. And if not Manami, Hatsuyo and Unoko most certainly would have.

But did they know you were dead in the first place?

His heart sank low in his chest to think that they’d allow you to be alone for so long that you’d do something like this. Unoko and Hatsuyo loved you, and as much as Manami is a selfish woman, she loved you, too. While she might not give Sukuna the benefit of knowing his wife had died, there’s not a chance that she would have let you be alone.

But if she did…

In the midst of his rising anger, a light and delicate breeze wrapped around his arm, extinguishing those livid flames instantly. His body knew it was you before you even touched him. A soft sigh escaped him as he turned toward your soul, but the sight of it was not one he could have ever prepared for. A soul manifesting with their death wounds was not uncommon, but this… this was different.

Your apparition was pale yellow in color, translucent like they always were, but you still looked like yourself. Your eyes were swollen, still dripping with tears, and your hair was a tangled mess, sticking to your face while your soul sobbed. But the worst part was the flowers that pierced your skin, seemingly growing out of the many rips in your flesh. 

A bloodied field of flowers.

“My love…” He traced his fingers over the petals that grew from the gash in your cheek as despair settled thickly in the back of his throat. “What have you done to yourself?”

Your tears were never-ending, no matter how many of them he brushed away. The sick, emotionless gaze of yours landed on his chest while your ghostly fingers slid over your torso, gliding over your skin until you collapsed against him, embracing him like you always did. Except, this was your soul; it was brainless, it wasn’t supposed to have control over their actions. The only pull–the only connection they should feel is when they’re drawn to the underworld. 

Yet you still found him, even in death.

“She sought you out,” Megumi hummed, appearing beside his mentor. “She bypassed the Styx to come home.”

Your spirit in his arms abruptly pushed away, holding its hands over its mouth as it coughed so violently that its legs gave out beneath it. Its hands and knees hit the sand as what looked to be more petals floated out of its mouth. But these heart-shaped petals were familiar; these were your favorite.

“You stupid woman,” Sukuna mumbled, bringing your soul into his arms where it instinctively molded against him like usual. “So, so stupid…”

Cold fingers met the side of his neck as the soul searched for his pulse, and when she found it, she began to cry harder. Sukuna wished he could do the same, feel your quick heartbeat to remind himself that you were still alive–but you weren’t.

“I’m so sorry…” His heart twisted painfully in his chest. “I shouldn’t have left you; this is my fault.”

“Sukuna,” Megumi whispered, stepping closer as his fingers traced over your soul’s bare arms, following the path where more flowers seemed to be sprouting from your flesh. “We need to find her corpse before it’s gone.” He tugged on Sukuna’s cloak, urging him to stand beside him. “Apologize later.”

“Her corpse is on the surface, and with Kenjaku gone, we can only use the portal that he set to open once a week. Traveling by foot would take twice as long.”

“Uraume?”

“They can’t open them without siphoning power from Kenjaku, and since the portal has just closed, I know Kenjaku has no energy left to open another.”

“Kaori, then?”

“Kaori? What will she do?”

“She is Kenjaku’s counterpart. She can lead you through darkness.”

“How would darkness lead us to the surface? We need a portal.”

Megumi huffed, rolling his eyes. “Trust me. Once.”

When your spirit in Sukuna’s arms curled her hands into his garment, he realized that he had run out of options. Trusting Megumi and Kaori was the last chance he had to get to the surface before your body was completely consumed by the spreading petals. With that in mind, he conceded and followed Megumi to Tartarus, carrying your soul in his arms.

They both stared down the fiery tunnel, most definitely thinking the same exact thing–that being how a certain soul could not enter Tartarus without running the risk of being trapped there forever. It was something that had slipped the god’s mind until they stood at the entrance of the pit of fire. Already, its influence was starting to pull on your spirit, begging you to enter and feed its flames.

“I’ll go,” Sukuna offered, prying your soul out of his arms until she began to fight against it. “Or, perhaps not.”

“She will want to go with you,” Megumi huffed, giving the pit another glance. “And I do not want to enter Tartarus.”

“Yes, most share in that sentiment.”

“Yes,” he whispered, taking a step away from the pit. “I wish you the best of luck with this endeavor.”

His lips formed a flat line as he eyed his prodigy with incredulity. “Oh, thank you, Megumi,” he derisively scoffed, situating your soul in his arms again.

“Of course.” He bowed his head, adding a few more paces of distance between himself and the entrance before reaching for the belt he had roped around his waist. Untying it, he tossed it over to Sukuna. “To help secure her to you.”

Then he was gone, taking the quickest path back to his cellar. Sukuna couldn’t fault him for the apprehension about entering Tartarus, for it was a place that not even he liked to enter. However, in this case, it was necessary, and as long as he kept your soul tethered to himself, she wouldn’t get stuck there forever. The possibility was still a risk; he wasn’t thrilled about taking it.

He grabbed the rope and fastened it around both of them, though he wasn’t sure it would do much good since the average soul was rather sheer. It was almost like tying himself to rushing water, but he did it anyway because anything helps, and at that moment, he was only running on his wavering sense of optimism. 

Without any further hesitation, he entered Tartarus.

The sound of crackling flames and popping magma filled the thick, steamy air, creating a warmth that was almost too much for him. Charred debris and ashes sizzled under his feet as he took the path to the palace, where he knew Kaori would be. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far of a trek into the pit, but it was miserable nonetheless. Yet the real feat of this endeavor would be speaking to Kaori in the first place and having to ask for her help. 

This goddess, in particular, while good friends with Kenjaku, was not friends with the god of the dead. At best, Sukuna and Kaori could be described as acquaintances, if those acquaintances had only met five times. Kaori didn’t like to leave her spot in Tartarus, and since Sukuna happened to share the same ideals as the average mortal about this place, that didn’t leave much room for accidental crossovers for the two of them.

The further he stepped into the new realm, the louder the shrieks of agony became until they had completely drowned out the sound of the smoldering environment. He couldn’t say he was too displeased with it–the chaos of the place was quite pleasant, and had it not been for the overwhelming heat and despair, and your squirming soul in his arms, he might have thought he could enjoy the frenzy of everything else.

His hands tightened in their grip around the soul's waist when her writhing increased. He knew that being here would be terrifying for her, even if this was just your soul right now. Tartarus is a place they would come to burn for eternity. Of course, she was uncomfortable here, but without any other options, the most he could do was offer a bit of physical support, even if she couldn’t feel it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice brushing over what should have been your warm skin instead of the thin, fog-like substance. “It’s my fault for getting so caught up in everything–I should have been paying attention to the time-”

‘Your fault, it’s all your fault…’ the gods-forsaken entity inside of him chimed in, breaking through the mental barrier he had used to block out the insults. ‘Killed her, you killed her…’

“No, I didn’t-”

‘Her death is on your hands, it’s always on your hands…’ Sukuna groaned, trying to reconstruct that wall in his mind again. ‘Seven times, you’ve killed her seven times…’

“Stop-”

‘Hands made for death, not our sweet mate… You leave her corpse on the surface, you’re a coward…’

“I’m trying.”

‘Not hard enough, she’s rotting…’

“Not yet.”

‘But she will soon, you’re too slow… Allow me to search for her…’

“No. You’ll scare her.”

‘It won’t be too bad, she is dead after all… Let me look, give me control…’

There’s still no way to get to the surface, no matter which form Sukuna would take. He’d still need a mortal. With that in mind, he suppressed the entity, roughly stuffing it behind that mental barrier once again, and pressed on. 

Only after a few more hours, he found himself walking up the steps of the Tartarus palace. As soon as he planted both feet in front of the doors, they were pushed open for him, allowing him to enter. The guards inside bowed deeply as they always did, and when he was fully immersed in the abyss, the doors slammed shut, enveloping him in total darkness. Raising his hand, he coated his fingers in flames and used that light to guide himself through the entrance.

“Kaori,” he called out to her, listening to his voice echo off the dark, empty walls. Only when it stopped did he begin speaking again. “I understand it is impolite to barge in without warning, but I require your assistance.”

Still, silence ensued.

“I would not have come here if it weren’t an emergency. Kenjaku isn’t in the underworld right now.” 

Nothing but a quiet stillness came after the echo, which served to anger Sukuna more than was necessary, given the circumstances.

“I’m asking for your help as an acquaintance, but if I have to order it as the underworld’s king, I will. Tartarus is still my domain to rule over, no matter if it’s the place you reside!”

A light snickering echoed around the vast, pitch black room. 

“You sound rather desperate, my king,” Kaori’s raspy voice whispered in both of his ears. “Kenjaku praised your humility as the king, yet here you are using it to your advantage. Threatening me, ordering me-”

“I need your help.”

“So you’ve said.” He felt her breath brush the back of his neck as a slight breeze carded through his hair. Still, even with his flames giving him a bit of light, he could not see her. “But you’ve yet to tell me what help of mine you’re asking for.”

“I need to get to the surface. Megumi said you might have a way to get us there.”

She hummed, “Yes. And by ‘us’, you’re talking about this little soul in your hands, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Souls need to stay in the underworld, don’t they?”

Through gritted teeth, he answered, “The dead can go wherever I allow them to go; they only need an escort out by a deity who is capable.”

“And that’s you, I presume?”

��Is there another deity who can handle death better than I can, or am I the god of the dead? Remember who you’re speaking to. Without me, you’d have no shelter here, and the surface isn’t so welcoming to things of your nature.”

She snickered again. “Think you could remove me from my own palace? A place where chaos thrives?”

“The chaos is outside of this palace, Kaori. You’d know that if you ever left this void you like to call a home–a home that I’ve given to you.”

“I was here before you-”

“And I’ve allowed you to stay, but trust that I have no qualms about removing you from my region entirely if you do not help me.”

“Could you remove me?” she satirically asked.

“Would you like to find out today?”

For a moment, more silence filled the air, save for the flickering clicks of the flames in Sukuna’s hands. Another breeze brushed over him, hitting the fire and making it sway, but never extinguishing it.

“Where are you needing to go?”

“Manami’s territory.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes to retrieve this soul’s corpse.”

“Hm…” she buzzed, finally emerging from the shadows right in front of Sukuna, though her face was covered by a thick, black veil of intricate embroideries. “I will do this for you, but in return, I’d like to visit the shrine when she is healed so I may speak with her.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, suspicion splicing his nerves. “What could you possibly need to speak to my wife about?”

The veiled deity shrugged. “I suppose whatever I see fit at the moment. I only really want to know who has the great King of Curses in such a chokehold that he’s willing to appear so desperate and pathetic for their sake–and for a surface-dwelling Olympian’s offspring, no less. You have to admit it’s rather odd, isn’t it?”

“No, what’s odd is how wrong I was to assume you were a passive and quiet deity. Now, if you could, I’d like to find my wife’s corpse before she rots away completely.”

A grousing chuckle came from underneath her cloak as she stepped away from the god. “I cannot open a portal the way Kenjaku does. The witch’s abilities far exceed my own, but I can offer you a tunnel and my chariot. The distance to the surface will take you a day and a half.”

“How will we get back?”

“Not my problem.” In the distance, Sukuna could hear the sound of hooves clicking along the floor of the palace. “Do we have a deal, my king?”

The time it would take to arrive was less than ideal, but with no other options other than to wait for the portal to open in seven days, he found himself agreeing.

“We do.”

“Good,” she hissed, sounding rather pleased. “Snub your flames. My horses travel faster when it’s completely dark.”

From what he could hear in the void, the chariot wheeled beside him as the horse’s hooves came to an abrupt halt. Reaching out with his free hand, he found the edge of the cart and guided your spirit inside. It was then that he felt a hand brush over the side of your face.

“Did I mention you’d need to be asleep for this?”

Before he could even question her, her abilities pulled him into the unconscious.

The feeling of something soft and delicate carding through his hair is what finally pulled him out of his slumber. With a disgruntled sigh, one of his eyes cracked open, squinting in the all-too-bright sunshine aimed directly at him. A heat settled over his skin, making him wish to shed his garment as soon as possible–as soon as the incessant thing stopped touching him. 

Finally, after having had enough, he pushed up from the ground with a groan, forcing his eyes to take in his surroundings. And with those surroundings came the memories of what led him to the surface–because, yes, he was on the surface now. Kaori’s chariot was missing from the open flower field he’d been dumped into, and your soul… she wasn’t in his arms-

He called out to you, feeling the familiar bout of anxiety well in his throat, only for it to be quelled again when he realized she hadn’t trailed off too far. And the brushing feeling over his face happened to be her pacing back and forth over top of him, still sobbing and appearing to be just as clueless as before, yet she didn’t wander away from him. He let out a sigh of relief and latched onto her ankle to stall her pacing. 

Gods, how long was he asleep for?

He went to look for your soul by Acheron a little after midnight, and the walk to Kaori’s palace would have put him back a couple of hours, so it had to be evening. But if that were the case, why were there dewdrops coating the grass? And why were the wrens and sparrows filling the air instead of a nightingale or a thrush?

“Damn,” he cursed, pushing to his feet so he could pick your soul up again. Upon doing so, he noticed the many more flowers that grew from her torn flesh; she was nearly covered in petals now.

And that many grew overnight?

His usually steady heart began to beat much faster than normal as he started to suspect that he might’ve slept through the next day. In such heat, he could only hope that your mother and servants were keeping your body cool. A warm corpse would never last long.

In the distance, he could feel Manami’s presence, so he knew Kaori had sent him to the correct location. With his internal compass set on her energy, he began moving, but just as he did so, the soul in his arms started squirming around, even punching at his chest, though he didn’t know why. 

Perhaps the trauma of the place was getting to you? Maybe your soul wanted to go back to the underworld.

That is, until a calm, spring breeze wafted in front of him from the nearby forest, shaking the tall grass of the field he stood in. In the gust of wind wasn’t the scent of woodland flowers like he expected; it carried something worse, something sinister, something that made him feel so fucking sick and instantly crushed any bit of optimism he had that everything might be okay. 

It was the scent of death.

And it wasn’t hard to guess that they had let your corpse rot out there.

He followed the scent, and the entire time, his mind could only focus on one thing. 

They let you rot out here.

They let you rot. Alone. 

And those accusatory thoughts soon morphed into guilt as the blame he directed toward your mother was brought upon himself. 

He left you alone; he left you here to decay. 

It’s his fault.

As if the soul in his arms could feel the utmost grief settling in his chest, she cried even harder, clinging to him as tightly as she could. Could she feel him slipping? Feel himself giving in to the entity that was steadily breaking down his cracked mental blockade? Is that why your soul was holding on so tight? 

If that were the case, he had to admit that her efforts were in vain because he wasn’t sure if he could do this.

And the closer he got, the more he began to believe that he really, really couldn’t do this. This wasn’t just the scent of sweetened decay that he’s smelled on you before. This wasn’t a body that had been kept in a cold room, kept away from the elements, and been properly taken care of so it could heal–this was a corpse left alone to rot, to mold, to run rancid.

He really didn’t think he would be able to do this… but he stepped into the forest anyway.

How selfish it would be for him to turn around now, to give in to that cowardice, to just let you continue to decay out here.

The insects buzzing around in the air increased to a swarm, leading him straight to your body–as if he’d need a guide when he could smell you across the field. 

He really didn’t think he would be able to do this… but he followed the flies anyway.

You were his wife, corpse or not. After everything he’s done to you, he can’t leave you stranded again, no matter how fucking petrified he was to see your body.

The sound of stray animals mulling about led him to believe something so terrible, especially when he heard them eating something. He could even hear them fight with one another, and he prayed it wasn’t over your carcass.

He really didn’t think he would be able to do this… but he listened to it anyway, hearing it grow louder with each step of his.

It was only ten more paces forward; ten more times he batted the flies out of his face, ten more times that he felt his stomach roll from the stench, ten more times that he had to hear a rodent gnawing at something, and ten more times that he doubted if he could do this before he stood in front of his own personal nightmare.

‘Look at what you’ve done to her…’

“I did do this, didn’t I?”

Moving closer, the animals scurried away, leaving Sukuna to stand above your rotting corpse.

‘Fucking monster, you ruin everything…’

He knows it’s true, he does ruin everything–except for you. No, even though your flesh had been ripped to shreds by the animals, chest pulled apart and pulsing with maggots, skin now coated with an ashy, blue hue, you were not ruined. Even though your heart was now missing, even though your eyes had been clawed from their sockets, and even though your usual scent had soured into this decaying smell, you were still perfect to him– just like you were when you were still breathing. Even in death–even while rotting, you were so utterly perfect.

But sometimes perfection calls for retribution, and someone left Sukuna’s wife out here to waste away. That’s something he cannot move past without rectifying.

The sound of faint sniffling pulled his attention away from your body, pointed now toward your soul, which was sobbing behind him. His eyes traced over the flowers protruding from your skin and noted how they took a similar pattern to the flesh torn from your body. Gods, the entire time these flowers had been growing on your soul’s manifestation, your physical body had been ripped apart by the scavengers. Acknowledging all of that only added fuel to the metaphorical fire.

The gloves he told your servants to put on you had been shredded off your hands, and the skin beneath had been picked apart, leaving behind bone. They even chewed through your splint, bearing to him your ribcage–the one he had tried so hard to hide with your body weight. At least the skin you had left was warm, thanks to the sun your mother decided to leave you in.

The thought brought a humorless chuckle out of him as he felt himself slipping further and further away from reality. His hands made quick work to secure your tattered, bloody chiton over your chest as the entity inside of him cooed, ‘The retribution you want won’t come by sitting here, staring at your mistake…’

“I don’t want to leave her again.”

‘I can, if it means serving my mate the way I should; the way that you should…’

The grief blanketed his entirety as reality set in, just in time for him to notice that stupid portal flicker to life just a few paces away, enveloping the forest in a light coat of blues and greens. 

And if the portal opened today, that means he was out far longer than he anticipated.

His hands began to shake at his sides. He balled them into fists to stop it, folding them so hard that his knuckles cracked under the pressure.

Seven days…

“I was asleep for seven days, I waited around for seven days-”

‘They let her rot out here for seven days…’

Horrible emotions formed a lump in the back of his throat as his anger began to exceed the grief, remorse, and sadness.

“They did let her rot out for seven days.”

They really did abandon you. How could Manami allow this to happen? Surely, her hatred for Sukuna would never lead her to do something like this? So what could have kept your mother from checking on you? Or even your servants? What the fuck happened?

‘If you’re too emotional right now, allow me to step in…’

“No.” His fingers circled around your soul’s wrist as he led you away from the portal, taking the familiar path back to Manami’s home. “I think I can manage this on my own for right now.”

The first thing he noticed when her home came into view was the giant wall of thorned shrubbery and brush that surrounded the place. That alone wasn’t a good sign, especially if it was put up in an attempt to keep Sukuna out because that would mean she expected him to come for her. 

The second thing he noticed was a certain unwanted male presence within his vicinity after he explicitly told Manami to keep him away from you. And she dared to keep him around, allowing you to suffocate on his touch? If Sukuna found out that that was the reason you took your own life…

The thought of that snapped what little composure he had left, forcing white-hot lividity through his body. The wall of thorns turned to ash within seconds, and due to his lack of control and the dry weather that fell over the surface this time of year, he couldn’t help the many sparks that took to the withered grass in front of Manami’s house, setting the entire field ablaze. 

It could burn the whole surface to nothing but cinders, and he would not care.

He ripped the door out of its threshold, tossing it to burn in the flames behind him, but when he heard a familiar sound, he paused. It was Yuji’s cry that reminded him to rein in his anger until the infant was safe.

The crackling flames, the cries, the creaks of the floorboards beneath his feet were all he could hear, but Sukuna knew your mother was there, just like he knew Mahito was there, and so were your servants. But they were all hiding, alluding to a reality where they all did this to you on purpose.

Manami must’ve sensed his presence and told everyone to seek shelter.

Fucking morons.

Through the culmination of chaos, he heard Unoko’s calming voice coo, “Shh, sweet child,” as she tried to placate the sobbing infant. That, once again, reminded Sukuna that he needed to remove Yuji from the area before he lost all of his sanity.

“Unoko,” he called out to her, stopping in his tracks to listen for any other signs of where they could be. “Come out now, and I promise to hear you out before I rip you apart.” Yuji’s cries were muffled enough that he could hear Unoko’s whimper of fear, but still, she did not come out of hiding. 

He chuckled at that and ventured further into the home. “I want the baby, Unoko. Do you really want him to burn with the rest of you? He’s done nothing wrong, after all.” He grabbed onto the furniture surrounding him, tossing it across the room to shatter against the wall. The ruckus of it caused Yuji to scream behind what he assumed to be Unoko’s hand. “You stupid woman, I’m giving you a chance to live! And the baby, too! You’re truly such a coward that you will not face me now?!”

His steps came to a halt yet again when a small door cracked open ever so slowly from underneath the staircase. He stood still, waiting for her to crawl out, and when she did, she dared to raise her eyes to meet his. However, with Yuji clutched tightly to her chest, there was little he could do to punish her for it now.

Before he could speak, she stepped closer, teary eyes wide and scared as she whispered, “...she had us tied up.” To prove her point, she raised her wrist to show Sukuna the deep slices that adorned her skin, dripping with fresh blood–a sign that she had just fought herself free from what Sukuna could assume were Manami’s thorns. “She wouldn’t allow us to search for the queen. Lady Manami said she’d return when she was done pouting– I am so sorry-”

His hand moved to grab her face when she lowered her gaze to the floor, sobbing harshly. He raised her eyes to meet his own again, searching for any sign of insincerity, but finding none. That’s when he realized it. 

“You don’t know, do you?”

Due to her complete mortality, she wouldn’t have been able to see your soul standing next to him anyway, and with how clueless she seemed to be after his question, he could concur that she really was oblivious to your death.

“I-I apologize, my king–I don’t-”

“She’s dead.”

A stark white paleness took over her face as she forced herself to swallow. “Sh-She’s dead?” she gasped, asking, “How?”

“Your queen…” A furrow formed between his brows as he struggled to say the truth. “She killed yourself.”

Saying such a thing out loud felt so wrong.

Unoko’s lower lip trembled as more tears dripped from her eyes. “I wasn’t–I don’t… I didn’t know, my king. Neither Hatsuyo nor I, I swear to you. Manami said she’d come back, that the queen was only upset because Mahito kept her from going through the portal.”

A certain blackness crept into the corners of Sukuna’s vision.

“What?”

Unoko nodded, a grim expression etched onto her face. “She said the queen needed more time apart from you to realize that she didn’t… to realize that she didn’t need you, my king. So she called in a favor with her fellow Olympians, asking to give you a distraction so you couldn’t make it to the portal in time, and she sent Mahito to follow our queen to the portal and keep her from entering the underworld. But we didn’t know she’d…”

A shiver prickled down his spine, a feeling that signified his depleting sanity. 

Unoko’s gaze lowered to the floor when he pulled his hand away from her face. “Hatsuyo and I wanted to go and search for her, my king, but Manami put up a wall of thorns around the house, and she tied us up to make sure we wouldn’t leave. She said the queen would come back–she promised us.”

“I see,” he growled, moving deeper into the home. “Where is Hatsuyo?”

“Still tied up in the spandrel closet.”

“And the others?” he asked, stepping toward the little closet Unoko had emerged from. 

“I don’t know, my king.”

He sighed and knelt in front of the small door. When he wrenched it open, the girl inside panicked, opening her mouth to scream, but Sukuna’s palm covered her mouth. The terror never left her eyes as he dragged her out by her face. She moaned in pain as the thorns dug deeply into her skin, but she didn’t dare to utter a word about it. Once she was out, he took the thorns in his fist and tore them away from her skin, breaking the bines that held her, but sliced her open in the process.

“Thank you,” she hissed, clenching her teeth, hands covering her wounds before she tacked on the proper title, “My king.”

“By the portal in the forest is the queen’s corpse. Watch her, guard her. Make sure nothing else tries to eat from her while I take care of this.” He didn’t acknowledge Hatsuyo’s hitch of breath or even Unoko’s confirmation. Instead, he added, “I’m allowing you to live now because you’re serving a purpose. Do it well and pray that my empathy returns to me, or you’ll be next.”

He spread apart the flames in the field so Hatsuyo, Unoko, and Yuji could make it to the forest. As soon as they were far enough away from the house, he focused his flames on himself and planted his hand on the closest wall, lighting it on fire. The crackling flicks laced over the walls so quickly that within seconds, the entire home was up in flames. 

Content with the change of environment to something more comfortable for him, he closed his eyes, leveled his breathing, and waited for something that could give him some insight into where Manami and Mahito were hiding. Seconds turned into minutes, and still he heard nothing.

“You mask yourself well, Manami,” he spoke, addressing the flames, but knowing that she could hear him without needing to raise his voice too much. “Even extending your little trick to cover that mortal you’re with. How thoughtful of you.”

A wooden beam from the ceiling groaned in its weakened, charred state and collapsed in front of him, sending a flurry of sparks and smoke into his face. However, it didn’t faze him; the fire never did.

“If you keep avoiding me, mother, I’ll begin to assume you hate me. And that wouldn’t be right. After all, we’re family now.” He tossed more debris out of his face as he searched for something–anything that would give them away.

“Even if your daughter is dead, and even though you killed my wife, you’ll still be my mother, just as you were hers. You’ll never rid yourself of me, Manami. I promise this to you. And you should feel grateful to know that I never break my promises, unlike you! You were supposed to keep her safe! That was your promise to her when you birthed her!”

He pulled burnt wood away as it fell in front of his path. 

“You are a coward! You can’t even come out a face me! What is that?! After all, it is you who is so much better! You’re the one who lives on the surface! You have a spot in the league of the pantheon’s most powerful, yet you’re too scared to face a meager deity like me?!” A humorless laugh escaped him, plumes of the smoke from his fire wafting in front of his face. “Your daughter lies ripped open and gutless in the forest right now, and still, she’s more valiant than you could ever be!”

The burning house creaked and groaned as the flames burned so hot inside, slithering up each uncharred piece of wood and heating it until it became ash. 

“The mortal you’re toting around with you like a good luck talisman will hinder your escape from me, you know that, don’t you? My flames will eat him alive, and leave nothing of him behind–not even a drop of his blister’s serum. If you give him to me now, I promise to challenge you another day!”

Still, nothing but silence.

“Your daughter needs eyes, Manami! And lungs and skin! Even a new fucking heart because hers has been taken from her! Allow me to put this mortal to good use, I’ll use his corpse to heal her!”

He paused, listening again when he thought he could sense Manami’s energy nearby, but it was shrouded when he felt your soul latch onto his harm. If it were possible, she seemed to be crying even harder than before.

“I bet you wish you could see this, don’t you? Even just hearing it all would be enough to get you off, I know it would,” he whispered, tugging her along through the fire until she pulled on his arm to stop him. 

Your soul wasn’t sentient–or, it shouldn’t be sentient. So why did it seem like she was leading Sukuna somewhere? He kept his senses honed in on that fleeting feeling of Manami’s energy and followed after your soul anyway. She passed through the falling debris without issue, with Sukuna trailing right behind to catch what warped through your sheer soul, tossing it aside with the rest of the burnt embers. 

Eventually, she came to a stop in front of a set of cellar doors in what used to be Manami’s kitchen, but was now nothing but a seething pile of ash. The doors, however, were metal, so luckily, they didn’t burn and hide underneath the soot like the rest of the house did.

“She’s in there?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. Leaning forward, he grabbed onto the handles and pulled the doors open before stepping inside. The fall to the dusty dirt floor below wasn’t too far, so he landed with ease. Above him, the metal doors slammed shut, enveloping him in darkness and the muted sounds of the fire crackling above him. Seconds later, he felt your soul latch onto him once again.

He lifted his hand and flicked some of his sparks onto the floor, watching as they rapidly turned into harsh flames, spreading over the ground to light his way. The inside of the main cellar room was empty, but along the walls were many darkened tunnels, leading to who knows what. All that truly mattered in that moment was how much easier it was to sense Manami’s energy, which meant she was close by.

“Don’t you feel like a little rodent?” he asked, deciding which tunnel to take based on the trail she’d left behind. “I’ve been torching fields for thousands of years, and each time I do, there are always so many mice that scurry to get away from the flames. Now, is the high and mighty Manami really just a scared little mouse?”

Outside the flickering fire, there was silence.

“This little cat and mouse game is only in vain. Escaping me is impossible. You know that. But I do have to admit that I’m enjoying the chase, even if it’s just a little bit.” The tunnel he chose opened into another room, this one lined with many shelves and casks filled with wine. His senses told him she was there. “So, it’s really a shame that it’s come to an end.”

He came to a stop in the middle of the room. 

“Come out, Manami. This cowardice of yours is humiliating, even for me. I swear not to add salt to the wound for cornering yourself down here. Though that is pretty embarrassing.”

From his place in the middle, he heard the faint sound of a foot slipping against the dirt floor behind him. Before they could make their escape through the tunnel, he lit the inside of it on fire, caging all four of them inside. Glancing over his shoulder, he laid eyes on the man who dared to keep you away from him. 

“Mahito,” he purred, turning to face him. The sight of the mortal cowering into himself, nearly melting into a puddle of fear, was entertaining to the god. “I should have killed you the first time you touched her. You were only lucky to have escaped me then because she begged for your life, but this time, she’s not here to save you. Since she’s dead.”

“You’re lying.”

However, this declaration didn’t come from Mahito, but from the goddess Sukuna had been looking for this entire time. Without taking his eyes off Mahito, he delicately guided your soul out from in front of him, giving Manami the proof she’d need. Her gasp was telling, and it made him grin. 

“No,” she whispered despondently.

“You seem surprised. Did I or did I not inform you of her past in dealing with grief?” Dragging his eyes away from the quivering mortal male, he gave his attention to the very distraught Manami. “This is the seventh time she’s died, but it’s the first time she’s ever been left to rot. Seven days, that’s how long you left her out there.”

“I didn’t know,” she mumbled, a singular tear slipping down her cheek. 

“Of course, you didn't! You didn’t go check on her! You left her out there! Alone!”

“I just– she needed space from you! She needed to be around people like us! She needed time on the surface!”

“No, she needed me, Manami! Not space! Not the surface! And definitely not you! She needed me, and you couldn’t even give that to her! Your hatred for me knows no bounds, not even when your daughter’s life is at stake! You plot to keep me away, you order this mortal to hold her down?! Are you really so selfish?!”

She raised her head, hands reaching out for your soul as she muttered her apologies. Sukuna found the sight of her trying to touch you, but only meeting the thin air of your apparition, to be a bit funny, scornfully so, especially when she collapsed onto her knees as the grief ate her alive.

“You knew how it would all pan out when you made that deal with Kenjaku,” he began, teeth gritting. “You knew she was to be my wife–you knew before she was even born that she would be mine the day she turned eighteen.”

“Kenjaku did not tell me about the bond-”

“Does it matter? You made a deal with the witch. Bond or not, your daughter would have ended up by my side. Kenjaku would have made sure of it.” He glared down at her tear-streaked face. “Don’t tell me you underestimated him simply because he was from the underworld, and that you truly believed you could go back on your word to him.”

The tick in her jaw told him everything he needed to know. 

He scoffed out a laugh, wafting the smoking flames toward her face. “Perhaps you surface-dwellers are okay with being deceitful, maybe you make promises that you never intend to keep, but that’s not how things work for us in the underworld. If we give you our word, we stick by that. So, when I say I’m going to rip you limb from limb, it’s on my honor as the ruler of the underworld that I give you my word. I really mean that.”

He was met with a look of the utmost defiance.

“Of course, Sukuna. Do it, rip me apart.” She rose to her feet and stepped toward him. “But when I’m back and I’m healed, we’ll begin this little game all over again. I promise, and this is a promise I intend to keep.” Manami motioned toward your soul. “She doesn’t need you, she doesn’t need anyone because that’s how I’ve raised her.”

His head tilted to the side as he stared down at her, listening as her weak promise spilled from her lips. 

“How do you still not understand what I’ve said to you? You’ve seen this much, and you continue to feign ignorance–is seeing her soul next to me not enough for you?” Manami didn’t even flinch when Sukuna grazed his hand underneath her chin, grabbing it roughly to hold in his palm. “Do you know what it means to be bonded like we are?”

She scoffed, jutting her chin out of his hold to get away, but when he clenched his fist around her, she stopped. 

“I suppose it means killing yourself when you do not get your way.”

A humorless smile twisted onto Sukuna’s mouth as he sighed, “It’s not just about being tethered to one another. We’re identical on the inside. It means that while she’s mortal, she needs me for survival. You can’t wean her off of me, I’m the fucking air that she breathes. And if I needed air to live, she would be mine.”

“You both could learn to breathe different air.”

“Wrong,” he snarled, grip tightening to a pressure that could almost crack her jaw. “You’re wrong. She was never meant to stand beside you, Manami-”

“Bullshit-”

“She was created for me, she fucking looks like me, and she acts like me because she was made for me! ”

A pained whimper slipped past her lips as she opened them to spit, “It’s your corruption!”

“There was nothing to corrupt, you idiot! You raised her, and all the while it was like you were raising a little piece of me! You shouldn’t ever be called her mother because all you really were was her vessel! An incubator for my match!” He breathed in deeply when his head began to spin. 

“She was my daughter before she was ever your wife, Sukuna. You can’t take that from me.”

“I didn’t have to take anything from you this time. You threw it away.” His quiet snickering made her lip twitch. “Let’s go take a look at what you tossed away like trash, hm?” Her face morphed into a look of despair, causing him to raise a brow, pointing toward her expression. “Oh? What’s this for? Don’t you want to see her?”

She shut her eyes, tears spilling down her face as she fought back the bile that was definitely rising in her throat. “Please, don’t make me look at her.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not in the mood to spare you the grief of it all. You deserve to see it with your own eyes.” With his hand traveling down to her throat, he squeezed it, raising her off the ground. “I want you to look at what you left to the scavengers, and I want to hear you say it was your daughter.”

When Hatsuyo and Unoko saw him approaching, they bowed their head and stepped away from your corpse. Right in front of you, he dropped the two he carried over with him. Manami and Mahito hit the ground with a harsh landing and quickly tried to scurry away like the rats that they were. Sukuna tutted at their idiocy and enveloped all of them in a giant band of fire. Now that they couldn’t escape, he turned his attention to the trembling servants and remembered his last warning to them. 

“You two are dismissed from here, but one of you will need to go to the cellar. Knock on the door, but don’t enter, lest you wish to die. There is a deity there; tell him I said to try summoning Kenjaku on the oracle, and tell him to keep trying until I get back, understand?”

“Yes, my king.”

“Good. Go.”

With a wave of his hand, the two of them rushed through the portal. When they were gone, he felt a bit of tension leave his body to know he might be making some progress. Still, there was a chance that Kenjaku would not be available. After all, he told him he would be unreachable before he brought you to the surface the first time. But there was always a chance for the witch to answer, and he knew if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to come back to the underworld. 

He knelt beside your body, eyes flicking over every inch of you without a hint of emotion. Subconsciously, he reached out to touch you, but just before his blackened fingertips could make contact, he pulled away. You already had so many marks adorning your skin, the last thing you needed was a black smudge from him. 

“Manami, does it give you comfort to know that her death isn’t something that I’m pinning solely on you? It’s my fault, too. I knew better than to lose track of time–I should have been here.”

She didn’t answer, and Sukuna didn’t expect her to.

“Word of your request to your council of friends made it back to me, but that was your plan after all, right? You wanted me to be distracted so that I’d miss my chance to see her.” His finger hovered over your face, tracing the outline of your nose in the air. “It was undoubtedly a moronic plan to begin with. I cannot believe I allowed myself to get swept up in it, but love does that to a person, doesn’t it? Even to a god-”

“As much as you may try to act with humility, Sukuna, I knew you wouldn’t miss a chance to prepare something to prove to the universe that the underworld isn’t as weak as we all know it is.”

A scoff tumbled from his mouth as he traced the air above your lips next.

“I don’t feel like I need to prove anything to anyone. If my preparations mean that we are weak, I’ll let the surface believe we are weak; I do not care. But you and I are here now, so I’ll give you some insight. My battle preparations were to make sure I wouldn’t be away from her longer than I needed to be; they were not to prepare something so entertaining for you fiends on the surface.”

She hummed, mocking, “Oh, sure. Do you think you stand a chance against the west now that Toji and Maki have joined the frontline?”

“I think,” he began, pushing to his feet. “That there’s a chance this battle will take more time than I anticipated, which is more time that I’ll be away from my wife. And I think if that happened to be the real motive behind your scheme, it would be less humiliating for you when I send Toji and Maki’s head back to Mount Olympus.”

He turned to see that she was sitting in front of Mahito, taking a defensive position.

“Do the rest of the Olympians know you asked two of their own to join in a slaughter?”

She rolled her eyes, averting her agitated gaze to the wall of fire behind him. “Please, Sukuna. You are strong, but to say that you’ll slaughter the god of brutal warfare is excessive. Toji’s favorite pastime is to slaughter, don’t you know that? And whatever strategy you’ve managed to come up with will mean nothing against Maki’s”

“Your faith in their capabilities is admirable. I bet they are so grateful to have such a loyal companion backing them.”

Her eyes narrowed in his direction, lip twitching when his condescending tone hit her ears.

“You speak pretty confidently as a god who has no one by his side, not even a wife anymore, since you allowed yourself to be swayed by a simple scheme.” She nodded toward your body, but never did her eyes flick down to look at you.

“I can see that Wasuke has brainwashed you well, and I’ll assume he’s extended that manipulation to Toji and Maki, too.”

“Knowing the truth is a far cry from being brainwashed.”

“You do not know the truth, and it shows. Ask the rest of the Olympians to join in the battle against me, and watch how quickly my brothers reject your offer, for they’re the only ones who know the full truth.”

The muscles in her jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth and asked, “What’s the truth that you know, Sukuna?”

He contemplated ignoring her question for the sake of time, but if Megumi isn’t able to establish communication with Kenjaku, there’s nothing else to do besides wait for his return. 

He decided to humor her.

“Who took out our father?” he asked, pacing in front of her as she exhaled a laugh. 

“Wasuke-”

“Wrong. It was me. Who put me in the underworld?”

“Wasuke.”

“Wrong again. It was me.”

“And why would you put yourself in the underworld?”

He paused in his pacing, stopping right in front of her. “It’s where my brothers wanted me to be.”

“Bullshit. You betrayed them-”

“No, I appeased them.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t make any sense because you’ve been forced to swallow these unfounded assumptions about me and the underworld.” He crouched in front of her. “Believe it or not, Manami, but I once loved my brothers. It’s unfortunate that the state they had to see me in the most was so raw and emotionless; I was a monster more than I was a god. But I loved them. So when they told me they could no longer stomach my grotesquerie, I fled to the underworld to give them space.”

“No-”

“Defeating our father meant I could rule over the world, but I wouldn’t want to do that with the hatred of my siblings, so I gave them their space, and I took the crumbs for myself. And I did so thinking I’d still have their support from afar, but as it turns out, that wasn’t the case. So, in truth, the only one who has truly been betrayed is me. They hate me. They make their mortals hate. They make the deities who are just as bloody as I am hate me. And I sit down there, and I take it. Day after day, year after year, century after century.”

A redness spread over her face as her anger began to boil over. “But why? If you’re so powerful, why take it? Why let the world think you’re weak? Why let us all believe that you are so horrible?”

“Because proving to all of you that I’m not weak would mean proving that you’re not strong, and in doing that, I would still be labeled as a monster, but that label would then be warranted. I can be violent, but just as the rest of you are. We all have the ability to act as monsters, but only one of us is able to admit it. Only one of us isn’t afraid to be labeled as such.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “Everything you’ve said is a lie.”

“Everything I’ve said is a lie…” he repeated slowly, scornfully snickering. “And where does my lie begin, do you think?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Wasuke killed your father, not you.”

He clicked his tongue and sighed, losing patience with being contradicted. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right.” Pushing to his feet, he chuckled, “Wasuke killed our father, not me. And everything else I said after that is a lie, too?”

“Yes.”

“Even the part when I said that I wasn’t as horrible as you make me out to be?”

“Especially that,” she snarled, eyes filling back up with an inconceivable amount of hatred. “You are horrible.”

“I just can’t win you over, can I? Your daughter would be so disappointed to see us fighting,” he hummed, shaking his head at the sight of it. 

“You couldn’t even have my blessing if you were pushed into the pit of Tartarus to burn for eternity.”

He tutted, “I don’t burn. Something so weak and pathetic is meant for delicate little Olympians like you–Tartarus was made for you.”

“You could get me in there even if you tried.”

“My, you are being rather cocky today. Is this banter of ours supposed to stall your death?” She flinched when his fingers carded through her hair. “If that’s the case, Manami, I’ll have you know that I’m a wonderful multitasker.”

She cried in pain as he dragged her over to your corpse. Forcing her onto her knees, he held onto her hair with one hand, and in the other, he took both of her wrists. He moved her closer to your body and leaned over her shoulder to make sure she was looking.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, pulling on her hair. “See how she looks when she’s been abandoned.”

Still, Manami didn’t look. 

“You wretched woman, look at your mistake. Now. Before I rub your nose in it.” 

That threat seemed to do the trick. Seconds later, Manami gasped and pulled out of his grip. He let her fall and watched as she crawled over to you, collapsing to her knees to hold onto your corpse. “Oh, gods, I’m so sorry!” she sobbed roughly, gagging on her own emotions. “Look at what I’ve allowed to happen, gods, forgive me!”

He paid no mind to the sound of Mahito dry-heaving behind him and simply watched as Manami drowned in her mistake, and he relished it. A cool breeze laced up his arm–he didn’t have to look to know that your soul was there beside him, non-sentient, but offering comfort to him. It was something he didn’t deserve, but there was nothing that could make him pull away from her right now. 

Could your soul see your mother grieving?  Could she hear it? If she could, would she care? Or would she adopt Sukuna’s mentality and agree that this is something that Manami deserved? He liked to think it would be the latter, but the chances of it being one of the former were too great. 

You had a heart; you had feelings and emotions.

You wouldn’t want to see your mother like this. 

But your corpse had no heart, nor feelings or emotions. You were dead, and the dead don’t get to make decisions for the living. More than that, the dead don’t get to make decisions for the god who rules over them either.

So he allowed your mother to grieve over your corpse. He let Manami see her mistake in all the sick and sadistic tones of it. He wouldn’t dull it for her; she needed to see it in the perfect lighting. 

And when he felt as though she had plenty of time to appreciate her fuck up, he knelt beside her, taking the back of her head into his palm while she continued to cry.

“When my wife rises from the dead, she will no longer be your daughter. I’ll make sure that you never see her again. The surface can live in a perpetual frozen wasteland for all I care; I’ll choose to be greedy with spring, and I want you to know how fucking lonely it is without it.”

Sensing that her temporary end was approaching, she only meekly nodded and sniffled, “Just do it already, Su-”

Manami didn’t even finish her sentence before her skull was crushed in his hands. The fragments of the bone stabbed into his palm, mixing their blood together, which churned up nausea in his stomach. He stood and tossed her corpse away from yours and turned toward Mahito.

He looked fucking petrified, Sukuna thought, but he didn’t care–he couldn’t.

“Your himation, give it to me now.”

Slowly, he unraveled the cloth from around his body and tossed it to the god. He used it to wipe the remnants of Manami’s head from his hand with a disgusted scoff. By the time he was finished, the cloth was stained with blood and soot. 

“Did she know that you took a liking to her?” he asked, dropping the garment as he stalked closer to the man. “A liking that strayed way too far from being friendly?”

He shook his head, trembling at Sukuna’s feet in a touseled heap of himself. “I-I don’t know what you’re-”

“I could smell you on her the night of her party. I could almost see your touches seared into her skin–they burned her, did you know that? You were hurting her, suffocating her-”

“No, no, I would never-”

Sukuna groaned, feeling irritated with the interruption, and his body flinched at the sound of Mahito’s voice. It was that which prompted him to grab his jaw and tear it off. The mandible was so puny in his hands as he crushed it. Mahito, seemingly shell-shocked, could only look at the god with wide, teary eyes. The pain of it hadn’t set in yet; Sukuna had moved that quickly.

“You lusted after her.” In response, he shook his head, gurgling on the excess blood around his mouth. “You did. I felt it, Satoru felt it, she felt it. How long did you hold her down? I bet it was hours–I bet she fought you until she passed out, didn’t she?”

His nod of confirmation affected Sukuna more than he had anticipated. All he could picture was the mental image of him holding you down, touching you, hurting you, and all you really wanted was to go home, yet the one who dubs himself as your friend denied you of doing so. His own selfish desires kept you on the surface and hurt you in the process. Groped and molested for hours on end as he held you down–Sukuna imagined how badly that must have burned you. He bet you couldn’t breathe; he knew you would have cried.

He had to admit to himself in that moment that he was spiraling. Yes, a strong-willed, always composed god like Sukuna was spiraling because of you, but it was not your fault. He always dealt with not having you–that was a pain he could manage, for the most part. But having to see the graphic mental imagery of you being so scared underneath Mahito for hours, just wanting to come home, just begging for someone to come save you–Sukuna couldn't manage that.

“You left her alone out here. You left her to rot…” he mumbled, though it was more to himself than the mortal at his feet.

His mind was shutting down, working toward relinquishing mental control to something else entirely–something darker, something far more deadly. Cruel and evil–it was something that wasn’t entirely himself, and something that didn’t need any of his senses to operate. He lost control of himself, and he blacked out.

And when he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the ground in the dimming light of the day, holding your corpse in his arms while the strangest substance gathered in his eyes. The inside of his mouth tasted of blood, and he could feel it starting to dry on his skin in a sticky layer. But through the blood coating his body, the feeling of something delicate and soft brushed his arm. 

He didn’t have to look to know it was your soul, but it was that thought that brought on more of this wetness in his eyes–it was disgusting. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.

When he heard the sound of someone stepping through the forest behind him, he didn’t even raise his head to look, for he knew who that was, too, and a sense of relief washed through him. This new presence’s boots made their way into his line of sight as he whistled lowly.

“Impressive,” Kenjaku simpered, spinning to get a look at the blood environment around them. Sukuna didn’t have to look at his surroundings to understand what he was talking about–he could smell what he had done. There were no longer any identifiable parts of Manami or Mahito; he’d truly ripped them to shreds, saving only the organs he’d need to heal you. “Quite the bloodbath.”

Kenjaku regarded the god in front of him with a pitiful grimace–it wasn’t that he was disgusted by the display, it was that he felt terrible about how the events of it all had transpired. He never meant to hurt Sukuna, nor you, but he feared Sukuna didn’t understand his true intentions at the moment, and the last thing Kenjaku wanted was to end up like Manami or Mahito. There was someone more apt to deal with something like this anyway.

“Give me a moment,” he said before slipping through the portal to enter the underworld. Minutes later, it was Uraume who stepped back through. They knelt down in front of Sukuna, paying no mind to the blood that was staining their clothes. Their hands moved toward Sukuna’s face to brush the damp strands off his forehead. 

“She killed herself,” he said, arms cinching in around your waist. “And they left her alone.”

“I know,” they whispered, drawing their hands away from his face.

“I left her to these monsters.”

“This isn’t your fault, Sukuna. All will be well again; we just have to get you both back home.”

|| MIS M.List || >MACE>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

Quick Yap Session: I want to mention the bit Sukuna and Manami were talking about, just in case you're unfamiliar with Greek Mythology. When Sukuna asked about who killed his father, this is a direct reference to Zeus's myth. It's said that he killed his father (and it's a weird myth, like the dad was actually fucking swallowing all of his children whole for some reason) and when the father, Kronus, was dead, they split the world into the three regions (surface, sea, and the underworld) and gave the brothers rule over each place. Hades is the oldest and he's the least problematic god; therefore, he is my favorite (I literally have his wife and dog tattooed on my body lol, and he's next), and I don't hold back on my favoritism, so in my rendition of Greek Mythology, Hades is really the one who killed Kronus. Zeus sucks, and no one can change my mind, so I made him a little bitch. Unfortunately, I made Wasuke play Zeus. Was Wasuke a bad guy, or was he just grumpy? I have no idea, I didn't research that beforehand, but it fits the story, I think.

I also want to say that the feedback I've received with this story has been so fucking sweet, and I read and appreciate all of your comments! You guys are so fucking awesome and ily!

Starting next week, I'll start back to work (I get my summers off), and it's going to be really hectic there for a hot minute. I'm not anticipating that updates will slow significantly, but I just wanted to mention it in case it happens! Usually, it gets really slow during the middle of the year, and I quite literally am able to write all day, so we'll def get this story finished by the end of the year at the very very latest!

Okay, I'm done now! <3!!!

Taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy @blkmystery

[w0rm3y]

MILKING POPPIES || S. GOJO || VIII. INEBRIATIONS

TAGS: College AU, Best Friend!Gojo x Fem!Reader, but also CEO!Gojo (but it's different), friends to lovers, fwb, smut, slow burn, angst/comfort, fluff, Gojo is a simp for reader, like a hardcore simp, I am not joking

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, suicide, drug addiction, drug overdose, drug-induced psychosis, alcohol consumption, obsession, SA, violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, toxicity, depression, manipulation, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cheating, reader is OBLIVIOUS, everyone is making bad decisions, but it's fun THIS CHAPTER: explicit sexual content, dubcon, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, biting, groping, drug use, implied/referenced cheating, sexual acts while under the influence, they're in public, and then a car, exhibitionism, Satoru is a good friend, and he's super patient, and he's good at making Reader horny, vomit is briefly mentioned, alcohol consumption, they're clubbing so...

SUMMARY: You meet a new friend, Satoru, who helps you navigate your screwed up, toxic relationship with your boyfriend. According to him, friends always do it better, even if you're too oblivious to notice that. Little do you know, your friend isn't the perfect guy you think he is, which leads you to being a pawn in his family's fucked up game.

WORD COUNT: 10k, loosely edited--I'm super tired rn, but I wanted to get this out for you guys, so please don't mind any typos. I'll go back and fix it tomorrow <3

|| Series Masterlist || INEBRIATIONS >CLARITIES>

Satoru pissed you off, yes… but your friendship with him means everything. He pissed you off, yes, but your friendship is everything. Your friendship is everything, even if he pissed you off. You need to fix this for him. You need to fix this friendship. You need to fix it, you need to fix it, you need to fix it.

Now, rinse and repeat.

It’s the mantra you love, the mantra you need; this is our newest hit called I fucked up and I’m fucking horrible. Tune in to self-pity radio and catch it on repeat for the rest of the fucking evening…

“I need to fix us, I need to fix us… I need… to fix-”

“Super cute outfit,” the bouncer quipped with a twitching smirk. “Doesn’t mean you can just get in, though. You need to wait in line, sweet thing.”

His deep voice served as a reminder of what the hell you were actually doing in the first place. 

“My outfit?” 

You looked down, realizing that in your preparations to come to Vault Borealis, and in an attempt to soothe your anxiety with clothes, naturally, you chose something that would leave you brutally uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

But, hey, you were a self-deprecating masochist–you couldn’t be too surprised, even as you felt that cool December air fly right under your skirt, breezing past your barely covered ass.

Oh, dear god, what have you gotten yourself into?

“I need to fix this, I need to fix us-”

“Back of the line, babes. Don’t make me embarrass ya in front of all these people.” The burly bouncer motioned to the long line of neon-soaked patrons, all shivering in their club clothing, desperately waiting for the chance to enter the esteemed club. You stumbled a bit when the door abruptly opened, letting the thumping bass of the club exit behind the patrons who were leaving. “Are you deaf, or something?” he asked, growing irritated.

“I uh… sorry. My name should be on the list,” you answered quietly, clearing your throat and stabilizing yourself on the asphalt.

“Uh huh. Save us both the trouble and just step to the back of the line.”

“My name really is on there.” You gave it to him, and added, “Satoru Gojo said he’d add it to the list when he got here.”

The bouncer chuckled, “Nice try, but Satoru Gojo isn’t even ehre.”

“Bullshit. He’s here with his friend, Suguru Geto, and don’t you dare pretend like you don’t know who I’m talking about. Check your damn list.” It was your turn to grow irritated now. After the horrible nightmare that was convincing yourself to actually go through with this, there wasn’t any chance you were leaving without a fight. “Now! Before I cause a scene!”

He clicked his tongue and flipped through the papers quickly. “Nope. Not on here. Back of the line.”

“Liar. Check again.”

He rolled his eyes and sifted through the papers. “Nope.”

“I swear to god, if I have to call him out here to come get me, I will-” You reached into your little pink fuzzy purse and pretended to grab your phone–something you didn’t actually have with you because you left it at home after telling Charlie you felt too sick to hang out with him tonight. “Want to keep calling my bluff, or do you wanna check one more time?”

The customers in the line were starting to get angry, some of them whistling and clapping, but collectively, they were growing rowdy–something you doubt Mr. Muscles wanted to deal with.

“Fuck. Fine. What’s your last name?”

When you gave it to him, his eyes flitted through the list, lingering on one spot as he most likely saw your name there, and to save face, he forced a smile. His hands went to the velvet rope as he unlatched the metal hook. “Mr. Gojo is on the mezzanine-”

“Thanks,” you hissed, sliding past him quickly and immediately making your way toward the steps to the mezzanine. Just like at the front door, there was another bodyguard at the top of the steps to keep people from wandering into the VIP section, though he let you in immediately. 

Your eyes scanned the room until they landed on the profile of an all too familiar, gear-grinding man, and you weren’t talking about Satoru. Suguru caught your glare from across the room and chuckled, leaning in to the person beside him to whisper something before stepping over to you. 

“He is gonna be all over you-”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, brushing his arm off of your shoulder. 

He tutted at you, “That’s no way to talk to your superior, my dear.”

You ignored his comment, and asked, “Where is he?”

He swallowed the rest of his drink before answering, “I think he walked Shoko down to the bathroom.”

“Shoko is here?”

Your sweet little assistant partner willingly parties with them in her free time?

“Shoko comes with me everywhere.”

“Doesn’t she have a girlfriend? And aren’t you trying to get with your father’s assistant?”

He laughed as he led you over to the table he came from, which you took note was full of strangers. They didn’t seem to pay you any mind. “My father’s assistant is a fling… I think. I don’t know, it’s complicated. Shoko and I are just friends–well, I mean, we fucked a few times, but it’s cool because Utahime likes to share.”

Your eyes widnened at his nonchalant admission. “Does everyone just sleep around in that office building?”

He snored and filled his glass with some form of liquor. “You’re one to talk.”

You scoffed, “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but I don’t like your tone.”

He nodded along, sipping his drink. “I know, I can tell. I see why Satoru likes you. You’re like… super uptight.”

“That’s not true,” you argued, shoving at his body when he leaned in too close to you. The push only served to make him laugh. “You’re just overbearing and obnoxious, more than usual.”

“That would be the drugs. And the alcohol. You should try it,” he teased, waving his glass of amber liquid in front of your face. “Unless, of course, you’re a square.”

You were many things, but a square? You were not. 

Unless… maybe you were.

Without contemplating it further, you grabbed the glass from his hands and swallowed what remained. The burn was horrible, but it had nothing on the taste of it. Your face screwed up in a wince as the liquor settled warmly in your empty stomach. You passed the empty glass back to Suguru. 

“I’m not uptight. Or a square.”

He pursed his lips and filled the glass again. “Alright, let’s see if you can do that again.” You met his challenge head-on, and downed another, passing him back the empty glass with a smack of your lips. He coyly grinned, filling it up again and sliding it over to you. However, before you could bring it to your lips, the glass was snatched away from you. 

“Some advice,” Satoru started, downing the glass and handing it back to his friend, who frowned at his entrance. “Never drink with Suguru. Ever. He strives for alcohol poisoning.”

His friend rolled his eyes and brushed him off. “That’s not true. I strive to have a good time, and I hit my goal every single time. Now, if you’re going to be lame, you can go, and we’ll have fun without you.”

“Not happening,” Satoru grumbled, tapping the man on the end of the booth across from you. “You, out. You, too–and you. Matter of fact, if you don’t own this club, get the fuck out of my booth.”

The groaning, frustrated customers filed out of the booth while Shoko appeared behind him and grabbed onto your shoulder. “When Sugu said you were joining us, I couldn’t believe it.”

Suguru snorted, “See? Even Shoko thinks you’re an uptight square.”

His assistant frantically shook her head. “I never said that, you asshole! I just meant I was excited, that’s all. Hot outfit, by the way. Too bad Satoru doesn’t let you dress like this all the time.” Her finger slid down your arm, feeling the pink mesh sleeve with a grin. Her attitude was infectious, and you soon found yourself playing along.

“I can say the same about you,” you teased back, pulling at the hem of her tight green dress. “I guess it’s smart to keep us dressed like old women, or I don’t think I’d be able to leave your office.”

She snickered, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Alright, stop… whatever this is. I can’t take it,” Suguru groaned, moving further into the booth and away from you and Shoko. “The mental images are too much.”

You stood from the booth and made your way to the other side where Satoru was sitting, patiently waiting for you to finish up your greeting with Shoko. She slid into your previous spot, muttering about Suguru being a freak the whole time, which ended up sending them spiraling into teasing banter.

“I didn’t know you owned this place,” you commented, sliding closer to Satoru as the mantra repeated in your head. You forced down your irritated attitude for the sake of fixing things. 

“I don’t. This place is Suguru’s.” You glanced across the table to see how far the other two had leaned into one another, playful banter seeming to morph into straight-up flirting. “So, let’s get this over with. I’d rather not spend my whole night fighting with you.”

Guilt settled heavily in your stomach.

“You want to discuss that here?”

“Well, you didn’t want to do it in my office, and I wasn’t canceling my plans to accommodate this stupidity.”

Ouch…

“Somewhere a little more private then?”

He searched your face, probably looking for sincerity before turning to Suguru. “Give me the master key.”

Rather than questioning his friend or breaking out of a heated conversation with Shoko, Suguru reached into his pocket and tossed Satoru a ring of keys. He caught them with ease and forced you out of the booth. That comforting warmth you’d been craving, yet forcing away at the same time, returned when he wrapped his hand around yours and led you behind the mezzanine bar.

He pushed the door open, but before he stepped inside, he turned to the bartender on duty. “Don’t come in here unless it’s a life or death emergency, got it?”

The nervous man bowed his head. “Of course, Mr. Gojo.”

With a sigh, your boss forced you into the room and locked the door behind you, leaving you in complete darkness until he flipped the light on. A dim glow spread through the room, revealing the mezzanine bar’s storage room, stocked with cases upon cases of alcohol. There were rows of expensive liquor stacked in those crates, scattered around the room, and in the middle, a table with two chairs that were placed across from one another. 

Satoru tossed the ring of keys down on the table and pulled out the metal chair. The screech of its feet across the floor startled you out of your search around the room. Swallowing back your anxiety, you took your stride toward him, but stopped short when you realized you lacked the confidence to actually face him. 

“I don’t really know where to… start.”

He hummed out a sigh. “From the beginning, preferably. You know, from the point where I apparently fucked up in what I assumed was a mutual agreement between us.” He scoffed then, clearly mulling over something in his head before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar rectangular tin. “What was it you said? A couple of lines would do me some good?” He barely glanced at you over his shoulder before sliding the top off the tin. 

“Yes, but I didn’t mean it. You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged and, with the metal card, pushed together some of the substance into a line. “Not really for your benefit anymore.” With a little straw in hand, he started to lower his head.

“Satoru, wait!” You rounded the table then, lips parted as if you needed to say something, but what could you say? There was something about getting to see him do that for the first time that just felt… off. He never spoke up about his addiction, but obviously, it was a sensitive topic, yet here you were, allowing him to do it in your presence. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re right. I don’t have to do anything. But I want to. So I will.” When he lowered his head again, you turned away, not keen on watching him do that because of you. Your heart rate picked up as you heard it happen. “...fuck,” he cursed quietly, “How many is a couple to you?”

“Satoru-”

“Come on. Let’s do it right this time. I don’t want to have to go through this again. How. Many?”

“Two, I guess,” you whispered back, still facing away from him until you were sure he was finished. When you turned toward him again, he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he had the palms of his hands pressed against his eyes and groaned. 

“Alright. My sobriety levels should be to your liking, then,” he chuckled sardonically. “Not too high and not too sober. To do what exactly? I’m not sure, but I guess this is the part where you let me know.” When he lowered his hands, you gazed into the eyes you’d come to admire, as fucked up as that sounds. “You have the floor, pretty. Go on.” He smiled satirically and gestured for you to speak.

Truthfully, you didn’t know. He had you in front of him, asking you to tell him what was wrong so he could fix the issue, and you just didn’t know. Everything was too much– your feelings for Charlie, your feelings for him. Fuck, even your feelings about yourself, which have never been so low in your entire fucking life. You’ve never hated yourself more than you do right now.

It’s like everyone around you had all the answers about how to navigate this screwed-up situation, they were telling you what to do with step by fucking step directions. Yet, you weren't listening. 

The rational answer to fix all of this shit is to confess to Charlie. Clear the air with him, accept the punishment that he deems necessary for you both to continue, and do exactly that; continue.

But where does that leave you and Satoru?

You didn’t have the answer to that.

And that lack of answer alone is what was eating you up inside. Forget the guilt of cheating on Charlie; you were worried about Satoru.

“I’m scared.”

His smug grin faltered as he repeated, “You’re scared?”

You really are like a caged animal, aren’t you?

“I-I’m scared of telling Charlie the truth, I’m scared of the person I’m becoming, I’m scared of all these feelings, and I’m fucking terrified that in the process of fixing all of this shit, I might lose you.” Pathetically enough, tears welled in your eyes. “And when I get scared, I get angry and I take it out on you. I said things I didn’t mean. But at the same time, you– you pissed me off and I…”

He was silent while you trailed off, and after, he asked, “What did I do?”

And it was as if it all hit you at once. “Everything!”

He looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, but was quick to hide that tiny fleck of sadness swirling in his eyes. “You need to be more specific than that. I can’t fix what I don’t know is broken-”

“Oh, my god, Satoru! There’s nothing for you to fix! It’s just… you!” A heavy silence fell upon the room, save for your heavy breathing and faint sniffling.

“I sincerely hope you’re not blaming me for the clusterfuck that is your relationship,” he said lowly, ending the silence. “Charlie was ruining it from the start-”

“But everything was fine until you came along! I could deal with him– deal with what he lacked, and now… I fucking can’t! You make me want more than he can give me.”

“Oh,” he chuckled humorlessly, metal screeching against the floor as he pushed back and stood to his feet. “You really are blaming me, aren’t you?”

“It’s all your fault. You… ruined me.”

His eyes widened in amusement. “I ruined you? Baby, you were already ruined when I found you.” He stepped closer then, hand moving out to wrap around your wrist. “If anything, I’m fucking fixing you.”

You shook your head, tongue gliding against your lips to wet them as they suddenly felt too dry after he took your breath away. “I’ve never had more problems in my relationship than I have since I started hanging out with you.”

“It’s not my fault that you like how I treat you better than how he does. Says more about him than it does me, don’t you think? I mean, I’m giving you the bare minimum and it’s enough to have you spread your legs for me.” Your back eased against one of the liquor shelves as he leaned in closer.

You sputtered an exasperated laugh, nearly wheezing, “Bare minimum? That’s not the bare minimum, that- that’s above and beyond-”

“To someone who’s received less than that for her entire relationship, maybe the tiny bit of effort I put into us makes you feel like I’m giving you the world. That’s not my fault!”

“Just stop fucking trying so hard,” you snapped.

“I haven’t even started trying. That’s how starved you are, and if I’m being honest, it’s making you seem ungrateful for the little bit that I have given you. I mean, you– you’re acting like this over what? Two thoughtful gifts? That’s all it takes to have you pushing me away because it’s too much– it makes you want too much from him? Do you really think you’re so undeserving of the minimum?”

You pushed at his chest but he didn’t back away. “It’s not just the gifts and you know it!”

“Let’s see, what else is there? Oh, is it the true friendship I give you? Or maybe I treat you like an actual human fucking being? What about me is making you question your relationship with him? Please, let me know so I can keep doing it, and maybe– just maybe, you’ll realize that he’s fucking shit!”

“I don’t like the way you’re talking about him,” you snarled, pushing at him again until he grabbed both of your hands and held them in place. 

“I don’t like the way you talk about him either. I don’t like that he’s just fucking with your mind so much that you feel the need to push me away.”

“I have to, Satoru! It’s not fair to him-”

“What about me? How is this fair to me? Why am I getting fucked over in this friendship because it makes your boyfriend insecure? And he doesn’t even know about the true extent of what happened, so really, it just all falls back on you. Tell me, are you the one who’s insecure?”

“Fuck you,” you hoarsely retorted as a choking sensation clenched in your throat. 

He hummed, dipping closer. “I think you are. You’re insecure in your own relationship– he makes you feel that way, and he uses that to his liking. Plays you like a fucking puppet because he knows he can. He knows that you’ll let him. You were right when you said you were a pushover. Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed to see the little bit of backbone you’ve grown is making you take a stand against me– I gave it to you in the first place. So, this is like a slap in the face, you know?”

“Well, what’s there to stand up against Charlie for? He’s not the one overstepping boundaries; he’s done nothing wrong.” 

“Overstepping boundaries… I hope you’re talking about the effort I put in and not about what happened in your apartment last week.”

“So what if I am? We’re friends– that was a bit handsy, was it not?” you jeered sharply. 

“Then, I’d have to call you a hypocrite. If the moment when you pulled me on top of you wasn’t you overstepping boundaries, then you asking me to not stop definitely was. And then you jumped over another boundary when you came on my fingers.” His hand released his hold on your wrists to rest on the shelf behind you. “So, don’t blame me for overstepping that boundary when you were begging me to. As for the effort, sure, I’ll take the blame– obviously, someone has to, and it’s definitely not your bum boyfriend. I wonder if he knows how easy you are to genuinely please. Do you think if he did, maybe he’d try a little more?”

You swallowed thickly. “He pleases me just fine, thank you.”

He barked out a laugh. “Does he?” You nodded, causing him to laugh again. “That just can’t be true. Look at us right now. Do you think that if he showed you even an ounce of care that you’d be ignoring me for an entire week, or yelling at me in a fucking storage room because I do too much for you? No! You’d take what I’m giving you, and not feel the need to throw it back in my face for the sake of liking it too much!”

“Don’t you think the easiest solution would be to stop giving me things? Stop doing things for me? Stop trying so hard?”

His face fell, features morphing into something more angry than before. “No, I can’t and I won’t do that. I’m barely treating you how I’d like now, and it’s already too much for you. If I treated you any less, I’d be no better than him. Though, wouldn’t it make my life easier– I guess I can see why he plays you the way he does. Do you know how fucking lucky you are that I don’t enjoy taking advantage of you like he does?”

“No, he doesn’t do that,” you whispered.

“He does, but definitely not as good as I could. If I stooped to his level, I’d take advantage of you over and over, but you’d fucking like it. That’s the difference between me and him.” He leaned in closer, the scent of the whiskey he’d consumed lingering on his breath, so intoxicatingly good. “But I have this feeling that you’re just going to taste so much sweeter when I actually work for it instead of just taking it. A simple gesture makes you so fucking weak, it’s pathetic, and that’s what I like to see.”

Your mouth dried. “That’s not very nice.”

He shrugged, a grin twitching at the corners of his lips as he traced them against yours. “I’m done candy-coating it for you. I like giving you what you want, I like touching you, I like trying with you and trying for you.” His smile slowly fell. “Keep trying with your boyfriend. I like watching you struggle to keep it going, and watching you try to convince yourself that it’s worth it. But the best is watching you come crawling back to me because you know your friend does it better than he ever could.”

Your lip quivered as a fresh onslaught of tears welled in your eyes, ones that he was quick to wipe away. “You’re a big girl, you can handle the truth.” He backed away then, retrieving his rectangular tin from the table.

You’re an asshole,” you gritted out, still leaning against the shelf. 

“Mhm, but I’m an asshole that doesn’t hurt you, right? I’m an asshole who treats you like you deserve to be treated? You like it, too, otherwise you wouldn’t be this upset. Now, be a good friend for me– open your mouth.”

He was a fucking asshole. 

So, why did you open your mouth?

His grin returned for your compliance, and before you knew it, he swiped his two middle fingers through the white substance in the tin before pushing them down on your tongue, almost making you choke. 

“Suck.”

You did it, too. 

Could this be what he meant when he said he could take advantage of you and you’d like it? But could one really consider this ‘taking advantage of’? You willingly opened your mouth, after all.

You wrapped your lips around his fingers like he asked you to and sucked, swiping your tongue over the pads of his fingers with a small moan. He seemed to enjoy it, watching the motion with a growing hunger in his eyes. Leaning forward, he discarded the coke tin on the shelf behind you and slowly dragged his wet fingers from your mouth, taking a moment to spread the spit over your lips before capturing them with his.

The chemical taste was bitter, but mixed with the taste of Satoru’s whiskey mouth, it never tasted so sweet. It was fucking addictive. Your mouth tingled with a bit of numbness as the drug soaked in. “Satoru, I’ve never… done that-”

His teeth gently sank into your bottom lip before he released it, watching it slip back into place. “That’s okay. It was a first for me, too,” he admitted with a breathless chuckle, slotting his lips against yours again. Like last week, his hand slipped between your thighs, finding you were once again lacking underwear. Rather than commenting on it, he sighed into the kiss and slid his two fingers against you, circling them over your clit. 

“S-Satoru,” you sighed against his lips. “We didn’t resolve anything, did we?”

His mouth parted from yours gently. “There was nothing to resolve. There was never an issue. You’re upset with me for being your friend– can’t really do anything to fix that.”

“But… what about… Charlie-”

He groaned, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip again, this time harsher. “Please, don’t talk about him when I’m kissing you.”

“That’s… part of the problem… isn’t it?” He huffed, moving his mouth from yours and down your neck. “What we’re doing isn’t right? It’s… wrong?”

“You tell me.” Your fingers laced through his white hair, goosebumps spreading over your skin as he traced his tongue over the spot below your jaw. “Does it feel wrong to you?”

You jolted when his teeth grazed your skin, moaning as he soothed it over with his tongue. “Feels… good,” you heard yourself slur, drunk off this heady feeling.

He chuckled, breath sweeping over your skin, giving you chills. “You gonna let me fuck you in the storage room?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, pace moving considerably fast. “I think I might.”

You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. 

But, god, there was nothing you wanted more, guilty conscience be damned. 

“Yeah?” You nodded, pulling away to find him amused. “You want it? Here?”

“I do, I really do.”

He bit back a laugh and leaned in, offering you one last open-mouthed kiss before he pulled away, slipping his fingers away from you at the same time. 

“What?” you panted. 

“Get fucking real. I’m not fucking you for the first time in a storage room.”

“W-What– no, you can’t do that-!” 

“I can and I just did,” he mused, retrieving the tin from the shelf.

“You really are an asshole.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t change the fact that you want me to fuck you. What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m into toxic men?”

He laughed, placing his tin down on the table to scrape together another line. “And here I was, thinking I’d be considerate enough to fuck you on a bed for our first time.” He leaned down then, snorting the line with such precision. You watched, intrigued as his eyes squeezed shut while the drug set into his brain.

“Can I try?”

He didn’t hesitate as he pushed together another line, teasing, “Not really appropriate to be doing illicit substances in front of your boss.”

“Not in the office or on the clock. Plus, my boss just made me suck his fingers so I don’t know if this is any worse.”

He hummed and turned to you. “How about you try it on your gums first and if you like it, you can have more.”

“My gums?”

He nodded, gathering some of the substance on his fingers before telling you for the second time tonight to, “Open your mouth.”

* * * * *

The intense throbbing in both of your temples and forehead ungracefully pulled you from your slumber. You groaned in pain and tried to roll away from the light source that was intensifying the headache, only to find your movements to be halted. Thoughts of last night flitted through your brain, reminding you that you had partied too hard. Most of it was a blur, but you did remember being with a certain someone for the majority of the night.

“Satoru,” you whined, latching onto the thick arm around your midsection. “Let go.”

He groaned in pain before huffing in his sleep, tightening his hold on you. “Not Satoru.” A familiar, obnoxious voice yawned before smacking his lips, curling his face into your neck. “Just your other boss.”

The speed at which you sank your nails into his arm and spun yourself around to face him made your head woozy. The movement seemed to have irritated him, too if his deep grimace was any indication. “Stop moving so much.” 

You shrieked and tried to pry yourself away from him. Finally, he relented, after a couple of seconds of holding you still, and muttered, “Worst cuddle buddy ever.”

Your eyes raked over his bare form, praying to whoever was listening that he was wearing boxers underneath the comforter. And your own attire? Well, it wasn’t any fucking different. You grabbed the comforter and yanked it to cover your naked torso. Your stomach churned at the sheer thought of what could have happened.

“Did we fucking sleep together?” you asked, exasperated and nauseous.

Suguru scoffed, “Please, as if Satoru would let that happen.” Finally, he cracked his eyes open, looking up at you with a wince. “Ugh, before you start bitching about it, nothing happened. You got hot and took your clothes off. And no, I didn’t touch you inappropriately. I swear on my life,” he promised groggily, “Satoru would have killed me.”

Your mouth dried as Suguru stirred. “Where is he?”

He groaned again, this time it bordered on a whine. “Making breakfast probably,” he hummed with furrowed brows, flipping over to resume his sleep.

Your eyes scanned the foreign bedroom as a sense of unease washed through you. “Where are we?”

He groaned again, “Shoko’s place. Now, please be quiet…” You rolled your eyes at his behavior and ripped the blanket from his body, using it to cover yourself as you rolled off the bed. 

“I hope you freeze,” you quipped, walking toward the exit.

“You bitch-” But you slammed the bedroom door before Suguru could finish his curse. The silence that ensued in the hallway led to the faint sound of clanking metal, more specifically, pots and pans. Followed by that was the scent of coffee as it wafted through the cold, quaint hallway. 

When you rounded the corner, you came face to face with the open-concept room, with a living room on one side and an occupied kitchen on the other. Satoru stood with his back facing you, wearing black sweatpants and a light blue shirt with colorful tour dates on the back. 

Did he just keep band shirts stockpiled or something?

“It’ll take more than stealing his blankets to take Suguru out. He’s like a cockroach,” Satoru mused as he flipped what looked to be pancakes on the stove. “If the apocalypse happens, he’ll be the last to survive, I’m sure.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to say anything. The hangover was killing you, and you were in a new place, nude, too. And Satoru was acting as if it all was normal. 

Maybe this is normal for him?

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, meeting you in the archway with a steaming plate of pancakes. The scent made you sick.

“Those aren’t for me, are they?”

He looked down at the plate. “Oh, no. They’re for Suguru.”

You raised a brow. “You his housewife, or something?”

Perhaps your tone was a bit harsh, but Suguru and you weren’t on good terms right now. At least, you weren't on good terms with him, but knowing him, he wouldn’t even notice that you were mad at him to begin with. Maybe you should just drop it. 

Satoru smiled. “No. He gives me free drinks at Vault Borealis, and to pay him back, I make him pancakes for his hangover. Says they’re the only thing that works so,” he trailed off with a shrug. “You seem…?”

“Irritated?”

His eyes glimmered. “Precisely.”

“You let me sleep in a bed with Suguru.”

It was his turn to raise a brow. “So?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “So? So, I’m fucking naked and you left me there?”

“He wouldn’t have done anything. I promise. I was there the entire time. I slept between you both. And you can’t be mad at me or him because we both tried to stop you from taking your clothes off. Numerous times”

You frowned and clutched your throbbing head. “We all three just… slept in the same bed?”

“Well, I mean, it’s a king-sized bed. There was enough room– not that either of you gave me any.” When your frown deepened, his grin grew more arrogant. 

“I’m sor–I- what? This is all…”

Too many stark changes in such a short amount of time, with no previous memories to help you make sense of them. You were confused, and the last thing a hungover person needs to be is confused. 

“Let me go give this to sleeping beauty, and I’ll explain,” he chimed, taking his leave down the hall. “Oh, don’t sit on the couch. It’s broken.”

“Noted,” you muttered, wrapping the sheet around you tighter. Your eyes strayed to the windows that took up a majority of the small living room wall. The sunlight was too bright, so you couldn’t really get a feel of where you were from that. Down the hall, you heard quiet bickering before Satoru walked out, pulling the door shut behind him with an irritated groan. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, he’s just a fucking princess-” He paused as you both heard Suguru snap, ‘fuck you’ from his room, earning the amusement of both of you. “Anyway,” he started, trailing to a duffel bag that was tossed beside the couch. Satoru unzipped it and pulled out a set of clothing. “Here. Should be more comfortable than the sheet.”

“Thanks. Where’s the bathroom?”

His eyes widened for a second before he forced a laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Oh. I totally forgot about them…”

Your curiosity piqued. After enough back and forth, you forced Satoru to lead you to the bathroom. When he pushed the door open, you gasped when you saw two strangers passed out inside. One, assuming a very uncomfortable position in the tub, and the other was leaning up against the toilet. 

 “Who-?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, “There was someone else sleeping on the counter when I came out here but they ended up waking up and left, thank god.” He pulled the bathroom door shut and turned to you. 

“What the fuck happened last night?”

He hummed with a twitching smirk, “Did someone blackout?”

“Satoru,” you groaned, following him back into the living room. “I don’t even know where we are exactly.”

“This is Shoko and Utahime’s mother-in-law suite, hence the one-bedroom and tiny interior. Shoko allows Suguru and me to crash here after we go out since we always drop her off first. It’s just easier for the driver to not have to take us all the way back into town.”

“And those people?”

He pursed his lips. “I have no idea. We must’ve met them at Delirium and invited them back with us. Who knows.”

“Delirium?”

He nodded. “That’s the nightclub that I own, but it’s kind of out of the way, so we usually stick to Vault Borealis. Anyway, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“It’s a bit fuzzy,” you complained and racked your brain. “The last thing I vividly remember is Suguru trying to blackmail me and then forcing me to go shot for shot with him while you were in line at the bathroom.”

Satoru snorted, “That explains it. Told you not to drink with him.”

“Well, it’s been duly noted. Won’t happen again. I feel gross. You, however, seem perfectly fine.”

“That’s because I didn’t go shot for shot with Suguru. And because I’ve been up for a while. The hangover is working its way out of my system.”

You clasped your hands in front of your hips. “So, let’s just… get this out of the way. I didn’t do or say anything stupid, right?”

He took a moment to ponder. “Hm, no, not that I can think of.” You let out a sigh of relief until he added, “Unless you want to count the bar dancing, puking on some strangers, flirting big time with the bouncer outside, and begging me over and over again to fuck you in the car ride here. Definitely could have been worse so-”

“Oh, my god, that’s so embarrassing. I puked on strangers?”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, no one really noticed. Everyone was busy watching Suguru start taking his clothes off on the bar-”

“The ladies loved it.” The man himself grumbled, strolling out of the bedroom with a half-eaten plate of pancakes. “You loved it, too.”

“Didn’t get to see it,” Satoru countered, looking at him over his shoulder. “I was busy holding back someone’s hair.”

Your cheeks warmed when Satoru cast you a knowing glance. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He brushed you off, turning his attention to the groggy Suguru stumbling into the kitchen. “It’s your turn to kick the randos out. I did it last time.”

That reminder didn’t seem to sit well with Suguru as his head leaned back and he let out a loud groan. “How many?”

“Two in the bathroom. I left the NDAs on the counter.”

“You make people sign NDAs when you bring them home, too?”

“Obviously,” Suguru scoffed, snatching the papers off the counter, and brushing past both of you.

“They’re just preventative measures,” Satoru explained, pulling you in closer and taking the clothes that you’d yet to change into from your hands. “Lift your makeshift dress.” 

When you pulled the sheet up off the ground, he bent down and helped you step into the pants. Next, he slid the shirt over your head and yanked the sheet off of you, tossing it onto the couch. 

“So, it’s to keep people from blabbing about the parties you go to? What about the people already in the club? What if they take pictures or videos of you?”

“There’s preventative measures for that, too. Anti-paparazzi reflectors are placed throughout the club so no one is able to get a clear photo that would be worth anything.”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?”

“I try. Now, what are your plans for today?”

-Satoru-

His eyes scanned the outer entrance of Delirium in search of his very intoxicated assistant, who should have been waiting out here with Shoko while he pried Suguru away from the bar. The instructions he gave to you were clear and concise… he thinks.

No, no, they definitely were. He distinctly remembers telling you and Shoko to wait outside while he got Suguru. That should have been easy enough, but apparently not.

“We should go to Delirium,” Suguru slurred, stumbling out of the club beside Satoru.

“We’ve been at Delirium. For hours.” His fingers sank into his friend's arm as he swayed closer to the ground. “Now, we’re going home.”

With his head tilted to the side, he let out an exasperated groan. “Where is Shoko? I need her-”

“Satoru!”

And speak of the devil. 

Satoru spun around, probably making Suguru more woozy in the process, to see Shoko waving the duo over with a giant grin plastered on her face. The first question out of Satoru’s mouth was asking where you were, and to answer that question, Shoko moved to the side, pointing behind her in a fit of giggles. Satoru felt his face fall at the sight in front of him.

“Take him to the car,” he ordered, roughly passing his friend off to his own assistant before storming toward the flirting couple by the entrance. He had been looking for you for a good couple of minutes, and you had been here the entire time. Granted, you were hidden behind the bodyguard’s towering frame, but it was irritating nonetheless. While he couldn’t see your face, he could see the guard’s shoulders shaking as he laughed at whatever you were telling him. 

And when your eyes caught his, they brightened.

“It was soooo nice to meet you, but my… my boss is right there-” you pointed over his shoulder, making him follow your line of sight. His mouth fell open, face seemingly going white in the purple neon lights of the club sign. 

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Flirting with the patrons is not in your job description, correct?” He pulled you away from the wall as his employee stumbled around for an answer.

“Right, sir, but I wasn’t-”

“I don’t care. I catch you talking to her ever again, you’re fired.” He didn’t want for the guard’s reply before toting you in the direction of the car.

“We were just talking, Mr. Gojo,” you teased, dragging your feet agains the pavement. 

“Are you sure? Because he didn’t look like he was just talking.”

“I swear.”

His hand pulled on the car door handle. “You shouldn’t swear. Now, get in.”

The music and buzzing chatter of the people inside the SUV were loud. With the middle row filled, you stumbled your way into the third row, clearly not noticing how your skirt was riding all the way up. Had he not been staring, Satoru wouldn’t have noticed you came to an abrupt halt, which means he would have fallen, face-first, into you. Not that he was really complaining.

You gasped, looking back at Satoru with wide, disbelieving eyes. He followed your gaze to see the conjoined couple of Suguru and Shoko on one of the seats in the middle row. 

“They’re kissing!” you whispered to him with a giggle.

His hand moved to your upper thigh, ushering you along to sit down because he wasn’t sure how much more he could take of your bare ass in his face without him doing something inappropriate.

“Yeah, they do that sometimes. Sit down.” He took his seat right next to you, and seconds later, you slid onto his lap. “What are you doing?”

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him, head resting on his shoulder. “Just feeling,” you mumbled as the car door shut and the driver pulled away from the curb.

“Feeling?” he questioned.

“Mhm. Feeling you. Feeling horny. You did this to me.” Your mouth moved against the side of his neck as you spoke. Whether you meant to or not, it was making him so unbelievably hard. And then your hips shifted forward, making it all worse.

“It was deserved, don’t you think?” His hands raised to stop your movement.

You shook your head. “No. I’d never do that to you.”

“You do that to me everyday, and you don’t even know it.”

He found your soused grin to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen, but it came with the realization that a drunk you was not the same as a sober you. You leaned in closer, hands moving from around his neck to his shoulders, before you started moving your hips again. 

“You could finish what you started,” you purred quietly, “Wouldn’t that make up for it?”

Satoru chuckled, “If I wouldn’t fuck you in the storage room, what makes you think I’d do it in a car full of people?”

Your smile fell before it was replaced with a look of determination. “Please?”

“Resorting to pleading,” he taunted, subconsciously feeling himself begin to guide your movements against him. “I can’t do that here.”

Your brows furrowed as you tried again. “Pretty please?” you whined, grinding becoming harsher. “I need it.”

He didn’t feel as though this was a game anymore. Taunting and teasing aside, Satoru wanted you. Biblically. But he knew it was wrong.

“We’re drunk. I-”

“It’s okay. I won’t be mad.” You leaned forward, teeth gently sinking into his throat, and fuck, if that didn’t have sparks of electricty shooting all over his skin…

“I know you won’t be mad. Because you won’t remember it in the morning.” Over your shoulder, he looked around the dimly-lit car, seeing that no one had any idea what was going on in the back seat. And if they did, they were choosing to ignore it. “That’s why we should wait.”

“I don’t want to wait. I want you now.”

Satoru thanked the higher beings for the music being loud enough to drown out the sounds that sentence was pulling out of him.

“I want you, too-”

“So fuck me.”

His lips pressed together to muffle any other noises threatening to escape. “Not here.”

The breathy moan of yours that brushed past his ear was almost enough to do him in–to make him forget about all of his morals and consideration for everyone else in the car. If only you knew the extent of the power you really had over him–over his mind. He wonders if you’d take advantage of him. And he wonders if you knew that he’d let you do that in a heartbeat.

However, on the off chance that you do remember this, he doesn’t want you to live with the guilt of fucking in a car full of people. You would be mortified, and so would Satoru. That wasn’t how he envisioned your first time together. 

“I need you. Please, Toru.”

He needed you, too. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up his resolve. You weren’t even halfway to Shoko’s place, and already he was so close to caving. 

Without thinking too much of the potential consequences, his hand slid between your bodies. On instinct, your hips flexed in just the right way to allow his fingers to slip inside of you with ease. He felt your lips part, and before you could make the tell-tale sound of your current predicament, his other hand moved to the back of your head, forcing your mouth down onto his neck to muffle the noise.

You both were still for a second, you a panting mess in his arms, and Satoru… so fucking high on you.

He tilted his face toward you to whisper, “You have to be so fucking quiet, okay?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed shakily, nodding your head before grinding against his hand the way you wanted to. Instantly, his hand was coated in you, soaking into his pants within minutes.

When his finger curled up to touch that one spot he knew you liked, your movements faltered into a trembling grind, harsher than before as your clit brushed against his palm. Your muffled moans vibrated against his neck, sending cold chills across his skin. The feeling caused him to thicken in his pants, allowing the lust to fully take control of his mind. 

“So needy,” he taunted, angling his hand to hit that spot with every brush of your hips. “Look at you, riding my fingers in a car full of people.”

Your teeth sank into his skin, acting as a silent warning to stop with the taunting, but all it did was solidify that heady feeling of his. The words slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Never thought my little friend could be so desperate. And it’s all for me.”

“Satoru,” you whined, hips slowing, but dragging a bit harder. He would have thought you might have found his talk to be too much for you if you didn’t clench so tight around his fingers with every word that tumbled past his lips.

“I didn’t even have to try this time, and you’re asking me to fuck you,” he whispered, curling his fingers inside at a quicker pace. Even with how loud the music was, and the constant chatter of the ones in the front seats, he could hear just how soaked you really were. It was faint, but loud enough to let him know you were enjoying this. “It makes me wonder if you’re this easy for your boyfriend, or if it’s just me.”

A hiss passed through his teeth as you bit down harder on his neck. He stifled any noises that could possibly come from him when you soothed the bite over with your tongue. “Sensitive subject?”

“Don’t talk about him,” you mumbled, tone bordering on angry, yet your body was saying something else.

“Why? Seems like you enjoy it,” he mused quietly, biting back his amusement. “Sounds like you enjoy it, too.” To prove this point, he pushed your hips back and forced his fingers into you himself. Still, it wasn’t loud enough to alert the others. “Is the guilt getting you off?”

“No.”

You leaned back, head resting against the back of the seat in front of you as your hips raised slightly. It gave Satoru enough room to move his hand how he wanted, setting the pace for you. In this new position, it was more obvious what was going on in the back seat. If anyone looked back, they’d be able to see almost everything. 

Your one hand moved to steady yourself by gripping onto the armrest, and the other moved between your thighs, rubbing circles against your clit. As much as he wanted to move your hand away and do it for you, your need to do it in the car, right then, was bound to get you both in trouble if this didn’t hurry along. So he set aside his ego and pumped his fingers into your pussy the way you wanted him to. 

Your breathing became ragged, breathy little pants as you clenched around his fingers, hips twitching every so often, signaling just how close you were. Your lips parted, brows drawing together as you climbed higher and higher, and-

Just before you could topple over, his hand pulled you forward and into his body, hand clamping over your mouth to stifle the sounds enough to keep your secret in the backseat. 

“-right, Satoru?” He heard Suguru’s voice cut through the music and the blood rushing through his head. The sound of his voice didn’t throw you off at all–no, if anything, it made your orgasm that much stronger. He wondered if you got off on having an audience, or if maybe it was the risk factor of being caught. Either way, you were filthy for enjoying it. 

“What?” he asked, holding you against him as you rode out the rest of your high on his hand. Your fingers curled into his jacket, teeth sinking into his hand to keep silent. 

“Shoko’s place, right?”

The constricting feeling around his fingers slowly started to subside as the tension in your body dissipated into tiny tremors. 

“Shoko’s place–yes, sure…” he stumbled for his answer, slipping his sopping fingers from underneath your skirt and his other hand away from your mouth. You rested your head on his shoulder as you steadied your breathing. “You are fucking freaky,” he mumbled close to your ear, earning your shaky laughter.

* * * * *

“How are we doing this?” Suguru asked as Satoru helped you out of the car in Shoko’s driveway. His arm was securely wrapped around your waist, fingertips daring to sink into your skin. 

“You can sleep on the couch,” Satoru offered. 

“The couch is broken,” Suguru and Shoko said at the same time before casting each other playful glares. “It was Utahime’s fault-”

Suguru’s excuse was brushed off by the other. “Bullshit, it was your fault-”

“I don’t even want to know,” Satoru grumbled and led you toward the mother-in-law suite.

“-and you’re not sleeping with us,” Shoko jabbed, closing her car door. “Utahime and I are taking an exclusivity break.”

Suguru groaned, drawing out the sound with his annoyance. “Fine.” He fell into Satoru’s side to support himself. “Being in a thruple is hard.”

“Just because they ask you to join sometimes does not mean you’re in their relationship, you know.” Satoru pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. “I don’t think Utahime would be fond of you assuming she’d ever be in a thruple with you.”

Suguru scoffed, “Hime loves me.”

“Does she?” Satoru countered, kicking the door shut behind them. 

“She let’s me bang her girlfriend, so I’d say she doesn’t hate me too much.” 

Through pursed lips, he replied, “Touche.”

“You’re so lucky you get to bang Shoko, Sugu,” you sighed, nearly collapsing onto the floor. “She’s a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

“I know,” he gloated with a grin, hand on the wall to support their stumbling trio down the hallway. “Did you invite those people who were in the car?”

Satoru shook his head. “Nope. Do you know who they are?”

“Not a clue,” he answered, falling away from his friend once they reached the bedroom. 

“Nuh uh, you’re not sleeping in this bed.” Satoru pointed at him when he collapsed onto the mattress. Gently, he lowered you to sit on the corner of the bed before turning his attention back to Suguru.

“Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

“On the floor? I don’t care.”

“Fuck off. I’m not a dog. I’m sleeping on the bed.” To prove his point, he pulled his shirt and pants off to snuggle up underneath the comforter. 

“Well, I’m not making her sleep on the floor.”

“Leave her in the bed, and you can sleep on the floor.”

You butted in to add, “Guys, it’s like… so hot in here-”

But the two men ignored your complaint to bicker like children. 

“And leave her in bed with you? No fucking way.”

Suguru patted the bed. “Then get cozy, pretty boy.”

“Like… really hot-”

“All three of us in a bed?”

“I do it all the time,” Suguru argued. 

“We aren’t a thruple.” Satoru pointed between all three of you.

“So you admit that what me and the girls have is a thruple.”

Satoru rolled his eyes. “This is-”

“He can stay.” Your voice cut through their argument as you crawled into the bed, stealing away both of their voices in the process.

“Put your shirt back on!” Satoru exclaimed, rushing over to move you away from Suguru.

You whined, “It’s hot. I can’t.”

Even Suguru seemed flustered as he rolled out of bed. “Oh, my god, you can’t just do that-”

“It’s hot,” you repeated and moved your thumbs to your skirt. 

“No! No, no!” the two men shouted at the same time. Satoru moved forward to grab your hands, and Suguru quickly turned to face away from you. “You can’t sleep naked! Now he’s really gonna kick me out!”

“You can stay. I don’t care,” you said as your skirt dropped to your knees before Satoru could stop you. He tried to pull it up, but you moved back on the bed and kicked it off your legs. 

“Absolutely not. No way-”

“I am too hot. I don’t want to get sick,” you explained, pulling yourself underneath the covers. “The clothes are scratchy anyway.”

“Please, just put your clothes back on,” Suguru groaned, looking over his shoulder before catching his friend’s glare and turning back around. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor!”

“Don’t. Sleep on the bed. You’re both my friends, I trust you,” you admitted through a yawn.

“You don’t get naked in front of your friends. And you’re an employee, which makes it ten times worse-”

“You see Shoko naked,” you countered, “Satoru has done worse things than see me naked-”

“What did she say?” Suguru butted in, but was swiftly turned down by the other.

“Nothing.”

“We’re all friends,” you continued, “I’m going to sleep.”

You flipped over and closed your eyes, ending the discussion altogether. The two men shared a look, one more pleading than the other. 

“Please, Satoru. I can’t sleep on the floor. It’ll fuck up my back-”

“Fine,” he gritted out before walking to the duffel bag in the corner, the one where he kept his overnight clothes for the times he’d stay here after going to the club. After changing, he situated himself in the middle of the bed. “Alright, come on. But don’t make it fucking weird.”

“I would never,” he promised, flopping down on the other side of Satoru. After saying their goodnights, Satoru found himself sandwiched in between you and Suguru, and while it didn’t make for a comfortable sleeping position, he did think it was nice to be so close to you.

|| Series Masterlist || INEBRIATIONS >CLARITIES>

taglist is open :) @man1cslut @tetsuski @arrozyfrijoles23 @kazukuro @salmonroebonitoflakes

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XV. INTERLUDE

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: angst, mentions of suicide, nonconsensual touching, death, but also Megumi is here now, so yay!

a/n: Okay, I lied again--this one is the interlude. After how reader's pov ends in this chapter, I couldn't leave you guys hanging without something a little less angsty. That being said, I know Sukuna and Megumi's relationship in the manga/anime has been, in some cases, sexualized in the fandom, but that is not the case here. Please do not misinterpret what you're about to read, their relationship is nothing sexual of the sort.

Also, just for some context, Megumi's corresponding deity from Greek mythology is Makaria, goddess of blessed death. I thought it was fitting, since Megumi's name means blessing. If you want the breakdown of Makaria's relationship with Hades in Greek mythology, you can check the guide, i'll be updating it soon :) MIS GUIDE

WORD COUNT: 8k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >PETALS> INTERLUDE; diáleimma; διάλειμμα

“My daughter…” your mother called out to you from the entrance to your room; however, you did not turn to acknowledge her. “Dear? Don’t you want to step outside today?”

“No. I wish to stay here. Thank you.” Your voice was barely a croak, giving away just how broken you truly felt. 

It was only day three, and you’d never felt more sick, and more than that, you felt so utterly alone, despite the constant company you had. If it wasn’t Unoko by your side, it was Hatsuyo, and if it wasn’t Hatsuyo, it was your mother. Sometimes, you accepted the offer of holding Yuji, but it never lasted too long before you felt that debilitating ache and handed the infant back over out of fear that you might drop him. 

Day four was the same as day three, and day six was the same as day five, which was also the same as day four–it was a constant, horrible cycle of pain that you wanted nothing more than to escape from. 

The sixth night, Unoko visited you with your usual dose of opium tea. Sliding to her knees beside the bed, she smoothed her hand up your back affectionately. While it burned more than she could ever imagine, you were far too exhausted even to recoil away from her touch. At best, you offered up a hurt whimper, which she always mistook for your sadness. 

They didn’t understand. 

None of them. 

But the one who was the most steadfast about the entire topic was your mother. She only thought you were playing a game–that you had perhaps grown lazy during your time in the underworld, and didn’t want to participate in this year's warmer seasons. And she threw these accusations at you as if you didn’t find her in a similar position last winter when you visited with Sukuna. 

You finished off the newest cup of opium tea and fell back into that constant, horrible cycle again, allowing yourself to drift to sleep.

And the next time you woke up, you weren’t alone in the bed anymore.

The warmth that radiated from this extra body in your bed wasn’t the same sort of warmth you had grown used to in the underworld. No, this wasn’t… warm enough, and the comforting feeling that usually came with Sukuna’s presence was now filled with nothing but anxiety and nausea. 

The person in this bed was not Sukuna. 

After coming to that startling conclusion, you pushed out of their hold, catapulting yourself onto the hard floor. The ruckus of it seemed to stir the intruder from their bout of slumber, and they, too, sat up, now fully awake. Rather than finding those red irises that you had been pining over for the last week, you were met with mismatched eyes of grey and blue.

“Mahito?”

“Hi…” he offered a gentle wave, paired with a tired yawn. “Your mother mentioned you were back a few days ago. Said you weren’t doing too well with the change, so I thought I could try to help.”

He’s only trying to help…

So why did it feel like the end of the world?

“By sleeping in my bed?”

He shrugged. “We did when we were children.”

The culmination of panic, anxiety, and nausea stirred too heavily in your stomach, and the leftover tea you had consumed only a few hours ago was threatening to escape. Your hand clamped over your mouth to keep the vomit at bay. 

“Are you okay-?”

“Don’t touch me,” you snapped, stumbling back from his hands and out of the bedroom. Making your way down the steps, you caught the attention of the three women in the living area, who jumped at your abrupt entrance. However, you pushed past them, too, making your way toward the door to get some fresh air. When your hands and knees hit the grass, you heaved in gulps of oxygen as thick streams of tears fell from your eyes. 

You were so sick of crying. 

You were so sick of being in pain. 

You were so sick of being sick.

When you felt a soft touch skim up your back, your body flinched away from it. 

“I said, don’t touch me.”

“Please, calm down,” Mahito cooed, taking a seat next to you with his hand still grazing your exposed skin; this time, it was your arm. Without giving it too much thought, you wrapped your vines around his hand to pull his touch off of you before crawling a couple of feet away to add distance. Your mother shouted at you for being so rude, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

You couldn't care about anything except how that fresh air entering your lungs seemed to calm the sickness, and more than that, it calmed the pain. And along with that constant ache went the sounds of your mother shouting. In fact, besides your breathing, it went completely silent. 

But you soon realized it wasn’t the fresh air that was quelling the ache or the sickness or creating a wintry shift in the atmosphere that stole everyone’s breath.

Two familiar boots stepped right into your line of sight. Looking up to identify the owners was unnecessary, for you already knew who it was.

And a relief like you’ve never known before rushed over you, a feeling so fierce, all you could do was cry.

Sukuna only allowed you to weep at his feet for half a second before he picked you up from the ground, bringing you into his arms, where you instinctively molded against him so tightly, taking in that burnt incense scent that followed him everywhere, like you’d never get to experience it ever again.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, lips brushing over the side of your temple, but the action only made you cry harder to the point where forming words was impossible. “You’re bleeding somewhere…” Humming softly, he began grazing his hands over your body to find the injury. You were just as clueless about its origins as he was; you couldn’t feel any surface wound if you had one. 

That is, until his fingertips pressed against your knee, making you hiss out in pain as a stinging sensation took over the area. Drawing back his hand, he began moving toward the house again. “Unoko, prepare something for her to eat. Hatsuyo, bring me a pitcher of water and a cloth.”

“Yes, my king,” they said in unison before dispersing. 

“And Manami, you can follow so that I may show you how to properly care for your daughter-”

“Fuck you, Sukuna. She has been good, right as rain. Mahito has been invited to ensure she remains perfectly fine in your absence-”

“Mahito has been overwhelming her with his touches this entire time. And if the deviant wishes to keep his life, he’ll remove himself from the vicinity immediately.”

She gasped, “He’s done no such thing, and he’ll be staying-”

“His scent is all over her. It’s making her feel sick.” He paused in his steps. “Are you so proud that you couldn’t do the one thing I asked of you, even when it comes to her? I told you to take care of her, and I return to her sobbing, and sick; cold, and starving–what sort of mother are you?”

“As I said, she’s perfectly fine.”

He scoffed at that notion, muttering, “Perfectly fine?” under his breath. “For someone who claims to be a doting parent, you sure are selfish. I can see exactly what you’re doing, and it disgusts me.”

“I do not care what you think of me.”

“Selfish, as I said.”

Without further commentary from either of them, Sukuna finally led you into the house, navigating up the stairs to your bedroom. Placing you down on the bed, he had to pry your hands from around his neck. You fought against him the whole time, wanting nothing more than to stay stuck to his side forever, but his strength overpowered you with ease. 

“Please,” you implored, reaching out for him still. “Let me touch you, please.”

“Are your hands injured as well?” he pondered aloud, turning them over to inspect your palms. Sure enough, there were a few scrapes. “Let’s clean you up first, okay?” Sukuna knelt beside you and began removing the pins in your chiton, fighting against your hands the whole time until he finally grabbed them and placed them on the sides of his neck. “Keep them here.”

You conceded; that was better than nothing.

By the time he finished removing your garment completely, Hatsuyo returned with the pitcher of water and a cloth, along with the oil and pumice they had been trying to clean you with for the whole week. Sukuna glanced at the extra items with a frown.

“She wouldn’t allow us to bathe her, my king. I thought maybe you could try.”

“Thank you.” He seemed rather disappointed to hear that, but instead of scolding you for your disobedience, he picked up your discarded chiton and handed it off to Hatsuyo. “See to it that this is washed and ready for her to wear in the morning.”

“Yes, my king.” She grabbed the clothing and moved toward the door, but Sukuna stopped her before she could exit. 

“Hatsuyo, please also remind Manami to make sure that that man is gone within the hour, lest he wishes for a personal escort to the underworld by yours truly.”

With an affirmative nod, she scurried out of your bedroom, probably feeling just as confused as you were. Even through your blubbering tears, you heard the sincere pleasantries he addressed her with. 

“You said please and thank you,” you sniffled, giggling.

Finally raising his eyes from his working hands, they met yours as an almost relieved hum escaped him. “Yes, I did. Believe it or not, a brute like me was taught manners.”

“Usually, you keep them to yourself.”

“Maybe an occasion like this calls for kindness. You’re still living, after all. I’m grateful for their efforts, just as I’m grateful for yours. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I’m proud that you’ve seen it through.” The praise stirred a sickness inside of you–you felt guilty. Your fingertips pressing into his pulse made him falter in his ministrations of peeling off your old splint. “What is it?”

“I am…unworthy of the praise, Sukuna. I didn’t try at all. The second I woke up to an empty bed, I accepted death.”

A tiny smile pulled on the corners of his mouth. “That’s not true. If you accepted death, you’d be dead. Yet, here you are with that little heart still beating in your chest, and that’s why you’re worthy of my praise.”  

And what else could you do besides accept his words at face value? To you, his word was the absolute truth, a commandment you’d always believe. So, you didn’t question him, especially not right now; there was no time for it in this short day you had together.

“How was your time alone?” you asked, pushing through the guilt for the sake of small talk. To say you were eager to just hear him speak would be an understatement. 

“Just as awful as your time, I’m sure.” 

And if that didn’t make you feel worse, you weren’t sure what else could. Perhaps the dark circles under his eyes, and the reminder that this man was a god–why the hell were there dark circles under his eyes?!

“You look tired.”

As he began working on the new splint again, a small smile graced his mouth. “As do you.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

Those red eyes of his flicked to yours before lowering once more. “A god doesn’t need sleep. The ones who truly deserve any concern are the battered mortals I left on the training field.”

“Your deflection skills are terrible,” you stated, nonplussed, earning you an exhaled laugh from him. 

“It wasn’t a deflection tactic; I was being genuine. It’s only been a week, but our mortals are improving.”

Both of your brows raised in surprise. “Praise for the mortals, too?”

“Yes, praise for the mortals, too. I suppose my spirits are rather high.” Finishing up the splint, he added, “I have missed you. I would say more than you could ever imagine, but I have a feeling you understand quite well,” before he started cleaning your hands and your knee.

“Yes, well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve missed you more than I could have ever imagined. Who knew I could crave the presence of someone so much?”

He shrugged, another quiet laugh leaving him. “I knew. I think that is something we will always have in common.”

The need for one another was most certainly a flaw in the design of this bond, but in moments like these, when you’re alone together, when Sukuna isn’t just the king of the underworld or the god of the dead, when he’s just your companion, it was hard to call it a flaw at all. It almost seemed like a deliberate addition that Kenjaku had made. 

Because how could a mistake feel so perfect?

* * * * *

Because how could a mistake feel so perfect?

You scoffed while remembering the thought you’d had only a few hours ago.

Perfect? This mistake? Absolutely not! It was pure torture! Inhumane! The worst feeling a person could experience in their entire life!

“Please don’t go!” you begged, grabbing onto his hands, trying with all of the strength you could muster to pull him away from the door. “Please, Sukuna! Please-!”

He huffed out your name as he relented, caving into your tugging. “I’m not leaving yet. Now stop overexerting yourself. Your rib is still broken.”

He was only going to get you something to eat from the kitchen; he wasn’t leaving right then. You still had hours together, but the thought of leaving his side for even a second was unbearable.

“You said you were hungry.” He grabbed onto your wrists with one hand and pried your fingers away from his arm. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take me with you.”

“You need to rest, or that rib of yours will never heal properly.” Just like the tears in your eyes, his face fell, and a melancholic, guilty look seeped into his features. He brushed the stray tears away with his thumb. “Sweetheart, you…” he trailed off, jaw ticking with an almost agitated groan. “Fine.” With a turn, he faced away from you and knelt down, allowing you to cling to his back like you always do. 

Like magic, your tears dried up, as did the overwhelming anxiety. 

As he stepped into the kitchen, he paused for a moment when he noticed your mother standing there with her back turned, working on a meal of her own. Hatsuyo was also in the kitchen, and when she noticed your presence, she dropped her head into a bow, muttering her greetings under her breath. 

“Are you hungry, my queen? I was just about to bring you something.”

Your mother tutted at her acknowledgment of you. “Must you use such formal titles here, too? She is not a queen on the surface.”

Hatsuyo looked as if she wanted to evaporate into thin air. “The queen of the underworld is my queen, no matter the location, Lady Manami.”

“Like I said, Miss Hatsuyo,” she began, cadence bordering on hateful, “She is not a queen on the surface.”

That seemed to pull a chuckle out of Sukuna. “Yet you’d still use your title as an Olympian, even in the underworld. And I’m sure Mei Mei would expect to be regarded as a queen, too, even in Jin’s region.”

“I am an Olympian and Mei Mei, the queen of the pantheon. Those titles far surpass the rulers of the underworld, don’t you think? Especially, when you’re on the surface, and far from your…territory.”

Sukuna sucked his teeth as he pretended to mull it over. “Not at all.”

Those soft eyes she’d raised you with had never looked so sharp as they did when she glanced back at your husband. “Ignorance is ugly, Sukuna.”

He hummed over her jab, finding it rather humorous. “Then you should stop donning it, Manami. It’s really starting to bring out the worst qualities in you.”

And if her eyes were sharp enough to cut you when she looked at Sukuna, when she set her sights on you, it was like a multitude of stabs to your chest. 

“You’ll let him speak to your mother like that?” When you turned your head to avoid her gaze, she scoffed, “Or does he have you so beat down that you’ve lost your backbone? Tell me the truth, did he take it from you?”

“He did not take anything from me, mother. I keep my mouth shut because I feel as though he’s in the right.” Your cheek brushed over his shoulder as you turned your head to meet her stare. “Just because I step onto the surface now does not mean I’ve been stripped of my proper title, and just because I’ve taken a new accolade does not mean I’ve lost the one of being your daughter.”

The tip of her tongue slid across her teeth in annoyance. “You don’t look like my daughter anymore.”

The grit of your teeth was strong enough to grind them down into little stubs if you kept your jaw clenched for too long. “You don’t look like my mother anymore, either. But I know you are; the feeling of it is innate. Looks can be deceiving, I suppose.”

There was a faint flicker in her eyes before she sneered and turned back to her task at hand. 

“You used to want me to be happy, I think. It makes me wonder why this time is any different.”

A humorless chuckle exhaled past her lips. “Of course, but I wanted happiness for you that didn’t include abduction and abuse. He caged you up like a little bird, and you let him. Slicing the back of your ankles, forcing you to spectate the gruesome sides of him–I bet you watch with a smile now, don’t you?”

“I do. And sometimes, mother, not only does he allow me to spectate, sometimes I get to lead that gruesome side of him.” She tensed as she heard what was probably the last thing she’d ever want to come out of your mouth. But you weren’t finished. “I do that with a smile, too.”

If she thought she could tarnish your own image of Sukuna by using motherly concern as a decoy for her prejudice towards him, she would have to tarnish her image of you, too. And if she couldn’t even try to understand the happiness you’ve found beside him, you’d allow those misconceptions she’d created of you both to brew and fester until she hated you as much as she hated him. You would allow everyone to think you’re worse; your mother would be no exception. In fact, you’d start the whole process with her.

Hatsuyo cleared her throat, looking as though she’d rather be anywhere but here, and handed off your lunch to Sukuna.

“Well, then you two are just…perfect for one another, aren’t you?” The knife she was using to chop the vegetables in front of her hit the wooden counter harshly, deeply embedding the blade into the grain. Sarcastically, she added, “Life and death, I’ve never seen a pair more compatible before. You both create just the perfect cycle of misery. I should feel proud that my daughter found solace in her contradiction, for it’s turned you into the sweetest monster the world has ever known. Good for you, what an achievement to be proud of. I’ll make sure to tell the others.”

You watched as she stridently yanked the knife from the wood, the rigidity in her shoulders never relenting.

“Don’t bother wasting your breath on it. They’ll come to know of the change soon enough.”

You could practically see the waves of anger radiating off her body. “You can return to your land of decay as soon as the summer solstice arrives. I think I can manage the rest of this year on my own.”

“Perfect.”

* * * * *

Six more weeks.

And then you could go home. 

That’s only 42 days without Sukuna by your side, and 36 if you felt like excluding the days he’d be with you. 

Six weeks. It’s just. Six. Weeks

You could do it.

You spent five months confined to your chambers, blindfolded and dying every other day.

Six weeks was nothing. Six days of loneliness at a time, and then you’re rewarded on the seventh. It should be easy. 

But it wasn’t.

And between his absence, your mother’s looming hatred, the aches and pains, and the fact that Mahito was still lingering around the house, you were on the verge of a mental collapse. Of course, your mother didn’t make it any easier for you, constantly picking and prying at your lack of movement, or your devotion to Sukuna, though, usually, it was the latter, and now that you were three weeks into this six-week torture, you were practically dead. That made it too easy for her to push Mahito in your direction since you couldn’t divert his touches. 

They were friendly touches–you knew that. 

But they didn’t feel friendly. 

And your mother didn’t want them to be friendly, either.

With too much ease, you quickly caught onto her little scheme, and that only served to make you even more sick to your stomach. 

Your union to Sukuna was one she hated; you understood that. But just as you could realize her hatred for him, you only wished she could recognize the love that you have for him. And more than that, you wish she could acknowledge your happiness, though watching you sob and cry for days on end didn’t portray that happiness with as much accuracy as you’d have liked. 

Still, most would see your constant pining for Sukuna and make some sort of connection. Maybe it was an obsession, maybe it was some sort of response to trauma, but it shouldn’t have mattered at that point. The separation was killing you. That in itself should say all that it needed to. 

But she liked the separation between you and Sukuna. She assumed you’d move past him, and while the ache may dull over time as your heart gets used to the constant searing burn, your attachment to him wouldn’t fade. You were mates, you were supposed to be together. You were made for him–a connection like that isn’t one that someone can just outgrow. 

And on the seventh day, you could reclaim that connection again. 

So, you waited it out like you’d done three times before this. 

This time had been admittedly better than the previous weeks you spent waiting for him. For this time, you truly had a distraction.

_____

“Those flowers you like so much, what are they called again?”

“The bleeding heart flower,” you slurred, relishing the feeling of his fingertips gliding up and down your bare spine. It had been so long since you’d taken a moment to not have your body confined to that gods forsaken splint, and getting to feel his touch there was all too satisfying.

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Wouldn’t the castle look beautiful if it were covered in them? They could take the place of the ivy on the exterior walls.”

“Most definitely. Though it would take so many seedlings, and since they’re rather hard to come by, it would take forever to replace all the ivy.”

“Hmm…” His fingers slowed to a halt before tapping against your spine. “Then you should spend the rest of your time here procuring enough seeds. And when you come home, you can start planting them.”

“That will take forever, Sukuna. I want to spend all that time with you before you leave for the battle in autumn.”

“Then my absence in autumn will give you plenty of time to plant them. And when I return from the fight, the castle shall be littered with them.”

A small grin tugged on the corners of your mouth. “Oh, is that an order, my king?”

“Not an order, sweetheart, just a request. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

_____

All of your spare energy went into growing out what remained of the sachet of bleeding heart seeds before drying them out to obtain the seedlings. By the end of that first day, you’d filled two whole sachets. Granted, the process took a lot of energy by constantly manipulating the plant growth, but you did it for him. You’d do anything for him, and that was something you realized as you picked apart the heart-shaped pods until your fingertips began to bleed. 

The task ate up all of your time, so much of it that Mahito didn’t really have a purpose there anymore, at least not one that your mother could make up to keep him there. You were outside all day, taking short breaks to eat, and only sleeping when the moon was in the middle of the sky. Mahito seemed rather upset with your lack of time together, but you were all too grateful for it. 

You had decided to keep his presence a secret from Sukuna the last few times he’d visited because any time he would spend ripping Mahito apart would be less time he’d spend with you. Since this separation, you’d become too greedy for his attention. To hide the scent of Mahito from him, you’d coat your body in the cedar oil before demanding Mahito hide out in the woods when Sukuna arrived, if he was so keen on staying by your side. And each time, you’d make sure to remind him that his help was unnecessary and even counterproductive. 

However, that never swayed Mahito’s mind.

The blatant disrespect of your boundaries became something you had grown used to, forcing you to grit your teeth and bear the nausea for the sake of having more time with Sukuna when he’d arrive. If Sukuna knew how insistent Mahito and your mother were about him staying by your side, he’d surely snap. And talking Sukuna down from murder would definitely take too long.

So, you kept it to yourself and busied your hands with the task your husband asked you to complete. 

‘...you can do that for, can’t you..?’

Absolutely, and you’d do it with a smile on your face.

And for the first time since coming to the surface for spring, the world didn’t feel so heavy. The ache was still there, but it didn’t burn as harshly as it usually did.

By the end of the week, you managed to fill six sachets of seeds. To say you were ecstatic to show him your progress was an understatement. He’d be so proud. Finally, you felt like you would be worthy of his praise.

You ate, you bathed, you slept, you planted, you moved around, you talked… you lived. All on your own, all without his help. That would make him happy to hear.

You were eager for his commendations, just as you were eager to tell him that you survived the bond as efficiently as he had been doing for years. Those were your driving thoughts that pushed you to wait for him by the portal on the seventh day. You made sure to bring your six sachets packed with seeds so you could show him as soon as he stepped onto the surface. 

Which would be soon. 

Well, it should be soon.

And after six minutes, when he still hadn’t stepped through, you began to grow worried. It only took you a bit of pondering before deciding it would be best for you to go to him this time. 

However, just as you placed your hand into the swirling portal of greens and blues, nausea-inducing touches grabbed onto our shoulders and tossed you away from the portal. The broken bone in your side shifted uncomfortably as you twisted around to face your attacker, though you already had a suspicion of who it was. 

“Mahito?” With a fear-stricken face, white as a ghost, he held his hand out to you in an attempt to help you to your feet. Harshly, you batted his hand away from you. “What are you doing out here? Why did you do that?”

“You can’t go.”

Your stomach plummeted. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not allowed to go through the portal.”

“But Sukuna hasn’t come through. I need to see him.” Hostility slithered up your spine, making you square your shoulders in defense. “I’m going, Mahito.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

His face faltered just barely, his facade slipping out of his control before he gathered himself. “Are you going to make me?”

Rather than answering him, you lunged for the portal, which was a move he must’ve seen coming because the next thing you knew, your back was slammed into the forest floor, knocking the wind out of you. Then, he climbed on top of you, knees on either side of your hips, hands pinning your wrists to the ground.

You coughed, heaving in gulps of air as you searched his face for what the hell he was trying to accomplish. Though if you were being honest, he didn’t look like he knew either. 

“Mahito, please-”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you writhed underneath him in desperate attempts to get him off you. The touch was sickening, but even more than that was the thought of not getting to see Sukuna. 

“Why are you doing this to me? I told you how badly it hurts.”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I…I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry! Just let me go!” you begged, pushing against his unrelenting grasp. “Let me go now! I swear, I won’t tell him! Please, please-”

“This is for your own good.”

“I need him! Let me go! You’re hurting me!”

But he didn’t let go, he didn’t stop hurting you. For hours, he held you down while you fought to get through that portal, but it was useless. And after your body gave out on you, after you grew too exhausted, only then did you stop pushing against him. Seconds after that, you slipped unconscious. 

The next time you woke up, you were alone again, in the middle of the forest, no portal in sight.

You missed your chance. You did so well this time, and you missed your chance. 

Curling your knees up into your chest, you held them tight as you cried harder than you had any of the previous times. The ache in your chest raged on, reminding you just how relentless this bond really was. 

He didn’t come for you. He left you there. 

Mahito… held you down. And Sukuna didn’t save you. 

He didn’t come for you. He left you alone there. 

And now the portal was gone, and once again, you’d have to play the waiting game. 

For six days. It was just six days. Six days, and you’d get your reward.

Only now, you weren’t sure if you’d get your reward ever again. He left you there with no way to get home–to Sukuna, to the underworld.

Because this place wasn’t your home anymore. It couldn’t be, because you've never felt so homesick about this place before. This level of grief was reserved for the underworld, for Sukuna, for your true home.

…You need to go home. 

But with no portal…

You sat up, brushing the sticky tears from your cheeks, groaning from the pain in your fractured rib.

Six days…another portal. 

You sniffled and pushed yourself onto your knees. From the pocket of your cloak fell a sachet of the seedlings. You picked it up, placing it back into your pocket with the rest of them while looking at the air that once held that portal.

Six days. A new portal. Six days that you couldn’t wait for. 

Six sachets of seeds in your pocket. Bleeding heart seeds–toxic seeds. Seeds that are aptly named for more than just their shape. Seeds that can kill.

Seeds that can take you home.

-Centuries Prior-

The village had been small, not just in population or land mass, but in redeeming qualities as well. So small and minuscule, so…irrelevant–at least that’s what Sukuna told himself as that darkness consumed him forcefully and sought out the destruction of innocent mortals. Granted, they were merely surface dwellers, the worst kind, too–the kind that wouldn’t hesitate to spit on Sukuna’s name just because he ruled the region underneath them, but they were innocent nonetheless. And as much as people wanted to believe he did this sort of thing for his own enjoyment, that wasn’t the case. 

If anything enjoyed this sort of bloodshed, it was the entity inside of him, for it was the one who caused it after all. Of course, Sukuna could appreciate death and the captivating potency of fresh blood wafting in his face, but that sort of admiration only came at the expense of people who had wronged him. Tearing useless mortals apart, the ones who had tried their hand against him, the ones who doubted him, the ones who attempted to hurt him, they were the ones he ripped apart with a smile. 

But a small village burned to ash for no reason other than the fact that it was boring would never entertain him in the slightest. Though after being this destructive for so long, he’d grown used to the feeling of self-disgust, and rather than hating himself for it, he numbed himself to it entirely. And with that numb mind, he could look at what remained of the village and appreciate the wave of chaos that ripped through it. 

As he stood in the smoking embers of what used to be village homes, he breathed in the scent of charred flesh, a stomach-churning odor that always lingered for longer than it needed to. The monster spared no mortal this time, wreaking havoc on them regardless of who they were. Women, children, elderly–it didn’t matter. And while he breathed in their ashes, he watched as their souls began to rise from their bodies. 

They’d wander around aimlessly for a few moments before the natural path of death would show them the way to the ferryman down below. None of these mortals went to the ferryman with payment, so they’d be left to wander some more for the rest of their lives on the banks of the river Styx. Maybe Sukuna would pay their way when he returned, maybe he wouldn’t. Sometimes he forgot, and sometimes he left them there on purpose to give him something to watch while the days of eternity dragged on.

 While he stood there, admiring, staring, judging, he heard a soft little voice call out behind him. 

“Mama?”

With a twitch in his upper lip, he wondered who would ever insinuate he could be a mother, let alone something even slightly feminine. Turning to face the origin of the cries, he noticed a little boy, no more than three years old, covered in soot with tear-sodden cheeks and the deepest pout he’d ever seen. But he wasn’t calling out to him; he was calling out to her own mother, scouring the flickering embers in an attempt to find her. 

If the god had a heart, it would have twisted then.

“Mama!” the little boy cried harder, sobbing into his hands, smearing the blackened powder with his tears. 

Before Sukuna could act, he took a look around the village he’d destroyed, noting that he’d leveled everything and burned the rest. No one should have escaped his flames–he was so brutal and cruel this time, it was impossible to have fled before he attacked. 

So, how did this little boy survive?

Upon stepping closer to him, he soon gained the answer to that question. 

For the little boy was a deity, with just enough immortality status simmering below the surface to shield him from death, but not enough to keep his soul from slipping from his body, it seemed. 

He was dead–he was a ghost.

Sukuna could sense it. 

Just as much as he could sense his deity status. 

Perhaps he was a demi-deity.

But if that were the case, why wasn’t his soul following the path of death?

“How peculiar…” he hummed, tilting his head to inspect the searching toddler. Stepping through the soot, charred bones crunched underneath his feet, ashes and embers sizzled with the pressure, and the sound of it all garnered the little boy’s attention. He froze, like most do when they notice a giant like Sukuna in their vicinity. “Your mother is dead, brat. You might as well stop burning your hands for nothing but ashes.”

The boy sniffled, raising his palms to show the god they were uninjured. “No burn.”

“But it hurts you. I know it does, I saw you flinching.”

The boy wiped his dripping nose with the back of his stubby hand. “Where mama?”

With a roll of his eyes, he glanced around at the smoking corpses and pointed to a random one that seemed feminine enough to placate the toddler’s question. “Right there. Burnt to a crisp.”

His eyes widened. “Mama dead?”

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“Why dead?”

His face screwed up in a look of annoyance. “Because her heart stopped beating.”

The little boy pointed to his chest. “Heart here.”

He cocked a brow. “Was that a question or a statement?” His face twisted into a frown as a fresh onslaught of tears streamed down his face. “What are you crying for now?”

“Mama dead!”

“As we’ve established.” He regarded him with a sneer as he wiped the snot and drool from his face. “Cease that immediately. It’s disgusting.”

Except he didn’t stop crying. If anything, he cried harder.

That’s what prompted Sukuna to kneel beside him, grab the excess cloth of his himation, and gently pinch his nose with it. “Blow.”

For a moment, his crying stopped so he could ask, “What?”

“Blow air out of your nose.” And when he did, Sukuna wiped his face clean with a disgusted grimace before dropping his himation and standing to his full height again. “There. Now, you look less pathetic.”

“You pah-fetic.”

“Watch it,” he scolded, looking around at the simmering village before sighing. “I’m going home. Come with me or stay here, I don’t care whichever you choose, but if you come with me, be quiet, understand?”

He didn’t give any sort of acknowledgement, even as Sukuna turned on his heel, leaving behind the smouldering rubble. A few miles into his journey, long after he’d forgotten about the boy, he was once again reminded of his presence when he heard his tiny body trip over a tree stump, sending him falling to the ground to land with a resounding ‘oof!’.

The sight of him spitting dry dirt out of his mouth made Sukuna chuckle for the first time in what felt like forever. And when the boy started to cry, he only laughed harder, even going as far as to mock him as he picked him up off the forest floor. 

“Stupid boy,” he tutted, shaking his head in playful disappointment. 

“You stupid.”

His eyes narrowed in his direction. “I could cut out your tongue, you know?” His eyes widened as he struggled against his hold, but he didn’t let him go. “And if you keep being really mouthy, I’ll feed you to my curses. They’d love to eat a little boy like you.” 

Sukuna let go of him then, allowing him to slide down his body until he was steadied on the forest floor. Within seconds of releasing him from his grip, he took off running in front of him, making him puff out a laugh. He watched the boy go, not hastening his steps and not daring to call out to him. Even when he was quite a bit in front of him, even when he watched the boy trip over another tree stump, even when he saw him sobbing, cradling his knee, Sukuna still didn’t speed up. However, when he finally caught up to him while he was nursing his wound, he came to a stop in front of him. 

“You mean,” he cried, wide, teary eyes staring up at the god with anger.

“And you’re annoying.” His face curled into another look of disgust as the boy began sobbing again. “Wipe your face and stop crying. You look deplorable.”

Begrudgingly, he did so, but with a scowl on his face the entire time. It served to amuse the god. And when he cleaned up his face, only then did he bend down to pick him up. This time, he didn’t fight against him. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked after a while when he heard the boy’s stomach growl loudly. 

He nodded, rubbing his belly, muttering, “Apple,” under his breath. 

“I don’t have apples, but I have a pomegranate. Have you ever tried one?” He shook his head, making him scoff. 

After maneuvering him in his hold, he pulled the pomegranate out of the small bag situated at his waist underneath his cloak. With easy precision, he tore the pomegranate in half, not once spilling any of the seeds or any of the juice. Then, he peeled back the white pith, handed the boy half of the fruit, and took the other half for himself. He looked at it, confused, and waited for Sukuna to show him how to eat it, which he did. 

“You eat the seeds.”

He delicately pulled a couple of the seeds from the shell and put them in his mouth, watching as the little boy did the same. However, when he bit down on it, quickly, his face shriveled into a sneer, and he spat out the fruit. 

“Not good.”

Sukuna only shrugged and took the fruit back from him. “Guess you’ll have to starve until we get back to the castle then.” 

“Prince castle?”

“No princes, only a king.”

He pointed to himself. “Me prince.”

“Hm, I suppose. You’ll need a name, though. Do you have one?”

The little boy only shrugged, not knowing the answer to that. 

“Well, then, you should feel blessed to have your king bestow a name and a title upon you in one day. From here on out, your name is Megumi, blessed prince of the underworld. How does that sound?” For the first time since he’d found him, Sukuna watched a childish grin spread over his mouth. The little boy nodded, liking the sound of his new name very much. “Good.”

After returning to the castle, Sukuna set up a room for Megumi. One that was far away from the public eye, and far away from anyone inside the castle who might want to hurt the child. Sukuna had a lot of enemies, and after ruining his childhood by demolishing his village, he couldn’t allow his own enemies to take Megumi out, too–not after he promised to take care of him. 

So, he put him underneath the cellar, in a shelter equipped with his own servant. He would visit him when he could, but he was never fond of quality time spent during the day, so often, he’d take the boy to play in the garden after the entire castle went to sleep. And when he expressed his dislike for the pomegranate trees that grew in abundance, Sukuna planted Megumi his very own apple tree in his part of the garden.

And for years, that was his life. He grew to be a respectable young man, right on the cusp of turning sixteen. Still, once or twice a month, Sukuna would walk with him in the garden, allowing him to eat all the apples he’d like before returning him to the cellar, before he started to miss it too much.

That’s when he started to change. 

He developed into the deity he was always supposed to be, a deity who thrived in the underworld–the god of the blessed death. But with his newfound status came other changes–negative changes. No longer was he a boy; he became the very thing Sukuna suspected the day he found him in that village. 

He didn’t judge him. 

He didn’t banish the boy’s soul.

He gave him space to grow–the space he knew he wanted, without him even having to ask. Sukuna knew isolation well, and it seemed Megumi developed a love for being alone, too.  

He let him come and go as he pleased, though he liked to haunt the cellar the most, so much that the help around the castle started to make up rumors. They heard strange things coming from the cellar–they heard an infant crying for his mother. That tattle spread like wildfire throughout the castle. It even made it back to Sukuna. 

But when he heard of this spirit haunting the cellar, he only smiled and didn’t pry. He didn’t have to. He knew who it was, and he didn’t have to fear anyone stumbling down there to find him, either. 

Because anyone who would, would soon meet their blessed death.

Sometimes, if he was feeling really lenient, he’d send his victims there and allow his prodigy to destroy them in the softest way. 

Sukuna and Megumi didn’t speak much, and for many, many years, they didn’t speak at all. They didn’t have to; it was a mutual separation. Megumi still saw Sukuna as his father figure of sorts, and Sukuna still saw Megumi as his adopted son, and like most deities and their parents, they split to take their own paths. And for a while, his path kept him in that cellar, grieving his past, taking the souls Sukuna would send his way, just living out his existence in unbothered peace.

But when the day came that Megumi happened to feel a familiar soul walking around the banks of Acheron for too long one spring evening, he didn’t hesitate to climb out of the cellar. 

He’d felt this soul before. 

This soul almost mimicked Sukuna perfectly, but with just the softest edge, a slight difference, just barely enough for Megumi to differentiate between the two. They were bound to one another; he could feel that–it was overpowering. He’d also felt this soul six times before, and he could remember feeling the eventual grief of Sukuna’s soul, too. Sometimes he’d go and watch his mentor rescue her from the banks of Acheron. 

But there was something different about her soul this time–Sukuna wasn’t following her, and more than that, her own heartache had managed to seep into her afterlife. Megumi knew this soul met their end in a horrible way. 

He knew something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t Sukuna following this soul?

Megumi moved quickly, following after Sukuna’s energy trail. While it was usually warm, it was never searing hot like this–Sukuna was angry, but the god didn’t let that deter him. He pushed through. The trail led him straight to what he knew to be Sukuna’s sitting room.  

Without hesitating, he pushed the doors open, allowing them to slam on the interior walls loudly, startling the three men away from their conversation with the god. Sukuna’s eyes met Megumi’s and softened. Even his blazing trail of energy seemed to cool, and the scowl that etched deeply into his mouth eased up as he sighed. 

“Now, what is my little ghost doing out of his cellar?”

While Megumi didn’t know this soul’s name, he knew of the importance this soul carried for Sukuna, and any soul that was this important would be made his in every way. It was this notion that led Megumi to whisper, “The queen.”

And that’s all Sukuna needed to hear before he left the three generals on their own, disregarding the discussion of a new battle strategy, which is why he was angry to begin with–it was this whole mess that made him lose track of time, therefore missing out on the opportunity to see you this week. 

But before he could fully exit the sitting room, one of the generals voiced their concerns. “The Olympians, my king–two of them have joined the rebels-”

The doors slammed shut behind Sukuna before the general could finish speaking, and Sukuna followed right behind Megumi as he led him toward the banks of Acheron.

|| MIS M.List || >PETALS>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: I swear, I'm going to try and get the angsty sad chapter out as quickly as possible. The next one is a bit longer, 12k words, so it'll take me a bit to edit it. It should be out tomorrow, or the next day at the latest!

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy @blkmystery

[w0rm3y]

MILKING POPPIES || S. GOJO || VII. FALLACIES

TAGS: College AU, Best Friend!Gojo x Fem!Reader, but also CEO!Gojo (but it's different), friends to lovers, fwb, smut, slow burn, angst/comfort, fluff, Gojo is a simp for reader, like a hardcore simp, I am not joking

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, suicide, drug addiction, drug overdose, drug-induced psychosis, alcohol consumption, obsession, SA, violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, toxicity, depression, manipulation, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cheating, reader is OBLIVIOUS, everyone is making bad decisions, but it's fun THIS CHAPTER: explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, groping, mentions drug use/drug addiction, implied/referenced cheating

SUMMARY: You meet a new friend, Satoru, who helps you navigate your screwed up, toxic relationship with your boyfriend. According to him, friends always do it better, even if you're too oblivious to notice that. Little do you know, your friend isn't the perfect guy you think he is, which leads you to being a pawn in his family's fucked up game.

WORD COUNT: 7k, loosely edited, def contains at least three typos

|| Series Masterlist || FALLACIES >INEBRIATIONS>

“Don’t hate me, okay?”

That was the first thing Satoru said to you this morning after stepping into his office, thirty minutes early instead of just ten, and that was what he decided to lead with? If you were being honest, the sentence scared you a little bit, which was not something you needed to feel this early without even a sip of coffee, which you had taken upon yourself to provide you both with, because you’re the best–and he dares to lead with something like that?

“What did you do?” His fist came to his mouth as he looked down at you with a guilty expression. “Satoru.”

He blew out a breath. “There is maybe a slight chance that I might’ve overlapped my own meetings today, and perhaps you might have to attend one for me to take notes.”

As soon as he finished, you shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t fucking scare me like that,” you scoffed, brushing past him to take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. When he spun around to face you, there was a look of shock plastered on his face. 

“You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad!”

“You sound mad,” he mused, dropping his guilty look to join you in the chair next to yours. You handed him his cup of coffee with a scowl.

“Yes, because you implied that you did something that was going to make me hate you, not even two seconds after opening your office door. Who wants to hear that this early in the morning?”

“Well, after the way I treated you the last time you overlapped my meetings, I didn’t want you to be pissed that you have to deal with it now. Especially, after I dragged you in here so early-”

You held up your hand to stop him. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t mind. What else are assistants for if not to bear the grueling, exploitative work of their bosses?”

“Exploitative and grueling? Please, I make this job easy for you. If I made you do everything that was listed in your job description, you’d quit.”

“Doubtful, the pay is too good. So, why’s this meeting so important that it had you overlapping meetings?”

“Right, I forgot to tell you. This evening, I’ll be leaving to visit a property that I’m interested in purchasing. The meeting is with the current owner, and since the purchase is more of a personal matter, I moved it up to have more time to work on actual work before I leave.”

There was a sinking feeling in your stomach at the mention of him leaving. Hopefully, you suppressed it well enough behind your forced smile. “Where’s the property?”

“Kyoto.”

Your smile faltered only slightly. “Oh…”

There was a sinking feeling gathering in your gut, something akin to jealousy, or maybe just the fear of missing out on something you’ve wanted to do for a while. While Kyoto wasn’t that far from Tokyo, you’d still never been there before, and you really wanted to go.

“What’s with the frown?” he asked, pointing to your face. 

“Nothing–when will you be back?”

“I’m hoping by Friday evening, but who knows? I already took it upon myself to reschedule the meetings up until then, but if I end up running behind, you’ll reschedule the others, right?”

You forced a smile. “Of course. What will you have me do while you’re gone?”

Playfully, he tapped your nose. “You have that time off. You’re welcome.”

Wow, thanks…

But you didn’t say that; it would have sounded ungrateful. And it’s not that you weren’t appreciative of the time off–you will definitely be using that time to catch up on studying, it’s just that you wanted to go to Kyoto, too. However, you knew better than to make a request like that.

So, you opted for the following, making sure to add as much sincerity as you could muster: “Thank you, Satoru.

* * * * *

Per his request, Satoru drove you back to your apartment that evening after work, explaining that his flight wouldn’t leave for another hour, and it was too cold for you to walk back outside. So, you conceded to his demand and got into his car. As soon as he pulled away from the curb, your phone chimed with a new message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: baby, please talk to me.

It had been four days with no contact from your end, and at this point, Charlie was starting to get a bit restless. You knew this to be true because his sporadic texts had started to become more than that, spamming message after message throughout the day, taking only a couple of breaks before starting up again. 

And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him. In fact, you knew it was necessary, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to respond. You didn’t know how. 

And how fucking cowardly of you.

It wasn’t his fault that you fucked up; it was entirely on your lap, and while you and Satoru were now on good terms, that just made it all the harder to reach out to Charlie and fix things. And if the guilt wasn’t eating you alive already, Satoru had to go and be too nice by offering you a ride home. So now, not only had you cheated on Charlie, you were now accepting a ride from Satoru. Surely, that goes against most codes in the book of relationships.

And that wasn’t even acknowledging the immense guilt you felt after last night, when you and Satoru chatted back and forth for a little while. The banter was anything but sexual, yet you still felt as if you were betraying Charlie for even entertaining someone else. Not to mention, while entertaining someone else, you also had these… warm and fuzzy feelings.

That alone was wrong on so many levels, and you hated yourself for it. 

But you couldn’t stop. 

Being with Satoru was easy, whereas being with Charlie, nothing comes easy. Everything was a fight with him. The simplest things turned into an all-out screaming match, and you were fucking exhausted. Although there were things that you and Charlie had in your relationship that you and Satoru wouldn’t–shouldn’t have in your friendship. That being time, romantic affection, devotion, and all the other lovey-dovey things that went along with something that strays more than platonic. 

Because at the end of the day, that’s all you and Satoru were–something platonic. Perhaps that can include the warm and fuzzy feelings, as you weren’t sure they would be going anywhere anytime soon.

“What are you thinking about?” Satoru asked, steering you away from your conflicting thoughts. Your phone lit up again, this time catching his attention, too. “Charlie?” he guessed, hitting the nail right on the head.

You nodded and glanced over the message.

Unknown Number: This is such bullshit. Answer me.

“He wants to talk, but I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s only natural after what he did-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I can work past that; the issue lies with what I’ve done to him.”

“I see.”

Another message came through.

Unknown Number: Why are you dragging this out so long? I fucking miss you.

That was like a jab straight to the heart. It was your fucking weakness, and you caved every time.

“Am I a bad person? After what we did–after keeping it from him for this long, I’m starting to wonder if… I don’t know,” you trailed off with a despondent sigh. “Do I tell him?”

“No.” Satoru’s voice was terse. As if you were asking for permission rather than his opinion. While you didn’t appreciate the tone, you knew exactly why he said it with such finality. “For your safety, please don’t.”

And there it was. 

“You speak as if he’d kill me.”

“I don’t think he’d kill you, but there are worse things than death, right?”

Your eyes widened. “Jesus, Satoru. He isn’t a psychopath.”

He let out a ragged sigh. “I’m not trying to offend you-” You interrupted him with a scoff, one that he didn’t like, if his irritated groan was any indication. “Can you blame me for assuming the worst after what he’s done over something as simple as a text? And you want to tell him what we did? No. Fuck, no-”

“I wasn’t seeking your seal of approval–I just wanted to hear your thoughts.”

“And you have them. I think it would be stupid to tell him, especially if it’s going to leave you stranded here alone. Did you forget I’m leaving in a few hours? If you tell him, and he freaks out like he did last time, then what? Who’s here to save you?”

Your jaw clenched as you bit out, “It’s presumptuous of you to assume I need you to save me from my boyfriend. Like I’m some sort of helpless woman. He’s not going to…” 

Upon your trailing sentence, he looked over at you with raised brows, waiting for you to say the inevitable. “He’s not going to what? Hurt you? As if he hasn’t done it already-”

“I’m done talking about this,” you snapped, closing yourself off to the topic.

After a few seconds of tense silence, you felt his hand slide onto your knee, forcing those warm and fuzzy feelings into your bloodstream again–something that was highly inappropriate, given your previous subject of conversation. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to push his hand away. 

“I understand that you want to tell him what happened. You’re a good person, I wouldn’t expect anything less. I also know that it’s going to eat you alive until you tell him, but please, don’t do it yet.”

“But, Satoru-”

“If not for your own well-being, do it for me? Please? I’m about to be hours away–I don’t want to have to worry about your safety. Please-”

“Okay. I won’t.” Your hand slid over the top of his, wrapping around his fingers and offering him the same comforting squeeze that he’d done for you. 

“Promise?”

You smiled and raised your hand. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll pinky promise you.” You pulled his hand off your lap and entwined your pinkies. “I promise to wait until you’re back before you tell Charlie. But Satoru, I have to tell him eventually. This isn’t something that can wait-”

“I know.” He returned your smile as he enveloped his hand in yours, grazing his thumb over the back of your knuckles. And what a wonderful feeling that was. Something so simple, yet it nearly took over your mind. 

So much so that when the same motion was replicated by Charlie a few days later, it made you wonder why his touch didn’t elicit the same type of warmth in your chest. It should have, right? Especially given your current position, that being completely bare against one another, granted, a little sweaty, but in the end, the mood was just right to be feeling the… warm and fuzzies. 

And why were your thoughts straying back to Satoru right now?

Fuck, you’re horrible, aren’t you?  

You forcibly swallowed and removed your hands from Charlie’s, afraid that if the contact continued, he’d be able to see everything that had happened between you and Satoru in your eyes. Or, maybe you’d just end up breaking your promise to Satoru and spilling your little secret. Either way, you just needed to get Satoru out of your mind. 

Usually, Charlie was great at occupying your mind, but recently, that hasn’t been the case. Even while in his presence.

“Do you want to get dinner?” you asked, pushing yourself to sit up on the bed, holding the comforter to your body. 

“No money,” he grumbled, rolling onto his side. “I’ll just eat something when I get home.”

You frowned at your boyfriend and asked, “Weren’t you going to spend the night?”

“I planned on it.”

Your mouth fell into a flat line, realizing his little ploy here; guilt-tripping . Too bad he didn’t know that his efforts in doing so were a waste; you were already guilt-tripping yourself. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve all night. I’ll pay.” 

It’s the least you can do after what you’ve done…

“We should get pizza,” he added, pulling out his phone to scroll through social media.

“Sure. You call and order it. I’m going to go shower and get dressed.” You didn’t wait for a reply from him before exiting your bedroom. You made a quick pitstop to the living room to retrieve your phone from its hiding spot to check if you had any messages from Satoru, only to find your message thread empty. The last message he sent was that he’d landed in Kyoto. 

That was two days ago.

You sighed and placed the phone back in its hiding spot, one that you knew Charlie wouldn’t go searching through to find it. He was more of an out of sight, out of mind kind of person, and after what he did with your last phone, you didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, Satoru wouldn’t be too happy if he had to buy you a new phone. But you guess that since your paychecks were coming in now, you’d be able to buy your own phone. 

That still didn’t give you the confidence to leave the device lying out where Charlie could find it, though. If he saw the messages between you and Satoru, though they were nothing but platonic, it would send him spiraling into a bunch of questions, and you knew you’d end up breaking down and telling him the whole truth.

The truth of what happened Saturday, but also the smaller details, like Satoru purchasing a new phone for you, Satoru hiring someone to clean up your apartment, and you staying with Satoru while your apartment was being cleaned. All of those things would only add to the shitshow that was bound to ensue. But you were only prolonging the inevitable, and you knew that. 

Surprisingly, Charlie didn’t ask about your new phone. It’s like he just assumed you would have purchased a new one for yourself with the way he was spam-texting you a few days ago. As if he knew you were just going to answer him. Not only that, but upon entering your apartment, he only made a slight comment about how clean it looked, like he just knew you’d have it spotless after his little freakout. Both of those things irked you like no other. 

And to top it all off, he didn’t even ask what had happened to you after he locked you out of your own apartment. 

His lack of care truly showed this evening, and while it pissed you off to no end, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say anything about it to him.

Because after what he’s done, you felt like you’d done much worse. Betrayal is worse than his temper could ever be.

You needed to make this up to him in some form. Pizza wasn’t going to cut it for you. That thought led you to your next conversation. 

“We should take a trip,” you announced upon entering your bedroom again, this time freshly cleaned and clad in a towel. 

“A trip?” You nodded, making your way over to your chest of drawers. “What kind of trip?”

“Just a little weekend trip. Shoko was telling me about this trip she took with her girlfriend. Apparently, her parents own a cabin in the countryside, and she said we could borrow it if we wanted to.”

“How far?” he asked, looking up from his phone. 

You shrugged. “Just a couple of hours. I can drive-”

“Pass. A couple of hours in the car for a little cabin? I’m good.”

“Are you sure? She said it’s really nice– it could be fun-”

“Can we talk about this later? I’m kinda tired. I just want to eat and go to bed.”

Your mouth fell closed then as you complied with his request, wincing as a surge of disdain seeped into your chest. But with the reminder that you fucked up, you let it go. If he didn’t want to go, that’s okay. Why force him into something he doesn’t want to do in the first place? That was just a recipe for disaster– you had learned that lesson in the past.

“Sure. Maybe in the morning…”

That conversation didn’t come in the morning either. What a shocker. In fact, no conversation came in the morning– at least none of the civil kind. An argument ensued moments after opening your eyes.

“I just don’t want to. I’m not in the mood-” Charlie rolled his eyes and pushed himself off your bed. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Home? What, are you going to walk?” you groaned, pushing yourself to sit up. 

“I’ll have my mom come pick me up-”

“Charlie,” you implored, reaching out for his arm, but he quickly pushed you off. “You can’t get mad at me for not wanting to have sex-”

“But you never want to anymore. Every time I ask, it’s always an argument.”

“That’s not true. We had sex last night.”

He slipped into his shirt. “In case you haven’t realized, it’s morning now.”

You just woke up, and already, you were so fucking exhausted. 

“You’re seriously going to have your mom come pick you up because I don’t want to have sex.”

He shook his head. “It’s not just that. It’s your fucking attitude all the time-”

“My attitude? I just woke up, and you’re asking me to suck you off! Who would be happy about that?!”

“A girlfriend who actually loved her boyfriend and wanted to please him. You know, like I do for you all the time.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not true-”

“It is true! It’s always me coming onto you, never the other way around. It’s like you don’t love me– like you don’t find me attractive-”

“I never said that!”

“You don’t have to!” he shouted loudly as tears started welling in your eyes. “It’s the way you fucking look at me– you don’t care about me, you don’t love me-”

“I do! I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t!”

He scoffed, “Sure, whatever. I’m going home, I’m not in the fucking mood anymore. Thanks for making my dick so fucking soft.”

And with that last repulsive and embarrassing statement, he slammed your bedroom door shut, harsh enough to once again knock a picture off the wall. Once you heard the front door slam shut, too, that’s when you let the tears freely fall down your face. 

You moved back on the bed and found your normal sleeping position before closing your eyes and falling asleep again, hoping that he would have come to his senses by the time you woke up. These arguments happen far too often, and you were growing very much sick of them. 

Much like limits, everyone has their regrets, too. And you think you were starting to realize what yours is.

Much later that evening, the persistent sound of someone banging on your front door woke you up, serving as a reminder that you had slept through the entire day. You gasped when you realized and rolled out of bed, rushing to the door. In your drowsy state, you didn’t check through the peephole before pulling it open.

Your mouth fell open. “Satoru?” He sighed in relief and brushed past you, into your apartment, toting a bag with him. “What are you doing here?”

“I landed around noon, and I’ve been calling and texting nonstop. I started to get worried that something had happened…” You yawned as he explained and shut the door behind you. 

“Sorry, I slept all day and my phone-” You moved to grab the device from underneath the couch. “Was down here.”

“Why?” 

“Uh… Charlie was over. I didn’t want him to find it.”

Speaking of Charlie, your previous argument came to life in your mind, instantly souring your mood. The growing headache due to dehydration and the irritation around your eyes wasn’t helping either.

“I assume that’s why you look like you’ve been crying?” he asked, a growing look of concern on his face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

You nodded and rubbed at them. “Yeah, they swell when I cry myself to sleep.” Still groggy, it wasn’t until after those words came out of your mouth that you realized how pitifully sad it sounded. “Sorry, that’s– I shouldn’t hav-”

“It’s okay.” You swallowed back your embarrassment and tugged at your nightgown, reminding you that you were still indecent. Satoru seemed to have noticed your current attire, too. “Is that the famed Hello Kitty nightgown?”

You bit back your smile. “It is, indeed. Though it’s more like an oversized shirt. Let me go change-”

“Don’t bother, it looks comfy. And it’s my fault for coming over unannounced, so…” He looked around your apartment, eyes finally settling on the bag he had in his hands. “Oh, right. I got you something.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. 

Damn, those warm and fuzzy feelings. 

“You did?” you asked, almost breathless. 

“Of course, I did.”

He sat down on the couch and patted the space next to him as the cellophane crinkled in his hands. “I tried my best,” he nervously chuckled as you took your spot on the couch, too. “But I don’t know too much about the characters, so I’m not sure if I got the right thing.”

“Oh, my god, you didn’t have to do anything, and I would’ve been happy.”

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe Shoko wants it-”

“No!” You reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I mean, you’re already here, so… lemme see.” Hesitantly, as if he were truly nervous, he handed the bag over to you. When you opened it, your lips parted in a small gasp as you looked at the two little stuffed animals inside. “Satoru.”

“If it’s not right, I’m sorry. I couldn’t give the store employee anything more to go off besides a little white bear character. I forgot its name, and all I could remember was what was on that nightgown you wore. But there was so much, and I have no idea what they-” you sniffled and took the two bears out of the bag. “You’re crying– I’m sorry, I can send them-”

“No! No, these are perfect! These are the right characters, I just– this is so thoughtful, Satoru.” You wiped away a stray tear. “Korilakkuma and Rilakkuma are their names.”

He chuckled. “I knew you’d correct me, too–oh, hey-”

You startled him when you nearly launched yourself into his lap and pulled him in for a hug. Your arms wound tightly around his neck, pulling him so close and relishing in the warming contact. When he seemed to gather his bearings and wrap his arms around you, too, you sighed and relaxed into his hold. 

You knew it was wrong, but after the argument between you and Charlie, you needed this. 

“Thank you.”

He tightened his hold. “You’re welcome.”

After a few moments of silence, you still couldn’t pull yourself away. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The way that he spoke so calmly and quietly, you couldn’t help but feel at ease. Maybe he felt the same way because he didn’t try to separate you either.

“How was the rest of your trip?”

“Good. The property was beautiful. I’m signing off on it tomorrow morning. There were a few new restaurants that I tried, and you would have liked them. Then I visited some family, and came home.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun,” you murmured, feeling a tad jealous that you didn’t get to go, too. But, nonetheless, you were thrilled that he enjoyed himself. 

“Fun? I wouldn’t say that. It was nice, but the only thing that could have made it better was if I had my favorite assistant with me.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. Luckily, due to your position, he couldn’t see just how happy that comment made you. “Really?”

“Obviously, you’re not just my assistant, you’re also my friend, and everything is better with friends, right?”

“I guess so.” Your giggle slowly diminished as you subtly added, “I missed you.”

“Mmm, I missed you, too.”

“Really?” you found yourself asking again. 

He chuckled, this time pulling away to rest his hand on the side of your neck. “Why do you keep questioning me? Think I’m lying to you?”

You shook your head. “No, I just… find it hard to believe sometimes. You treat me so well, and I guess I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve it.” He smiled silently, reaching up to grab the scrunchy that was messy, and barely holding your hair out of your face. Gently, he tugged it away, releasing your hair from it. “You deserve to have whatever you want.”

You took note of his normal-sized pupils. “You’re sober.”

“I am. Have been since this morning.”

But, if that were true, why is he still looking at you like this? With that same admiration in his eyes when he looked at you at the party and in his office the following Monday. You had brushed it off, blaming it on the drugs, but now here he was, completely sober, still looking at you the same way.

That look in his eyes wasn’t the only thing that seemed to match; you also felt that same pull to him. This wasn’t the work of drugs; you’d been sober for days. Could it be from exhaustion? You were a bit groggy, but then again, you slept all day. Your mind was fully rested, just a bit foggy. 

So, why was he looking at you like that? Why were you experiencing certain feelings? Why were you both leaning in closer?

Why the fuck are you kissing him? More importantly, why is he actually kissing you back?

And why does it feel so good? So right? So perfect?

There were no thoughts of how wrong it was, no thoughts of Charlie, just Satoru.

You gasped when his hands moved down to your hips as he yanked you forward, positioning you on his lap just as you were on Saturday. The only difference now was your startling sobriety, but not even that could make you back out of the kiss. Your fingers dipped inside the collar of his shirt, skirting around his warm skin. 

His palms traced up your thighs, settling on your lower hips, only to skim his fingers between your legs seconds later. You sighed into the kiss, flexing your hips to follow after his retreating hand in hopes of more contact. You felt his lips curve into a smile. “Do you ever wear underwear?” he playfully asked, his lips tracing and grazing yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “Sometimes,” you answered, guiding him with you as you lay back on the couch. Your thighs moved apart to accommodate him, and you pulled him in closer– something he seemed all too happy to do. His palm splayed flat against your thigh, trailing down to sink into the flesh of your ass, and in the same motion, lift your hips to meet his. 

Your lips parted in a gasp, something he took as an invitation to slip his tongue into your mouth, tracing against yours sloppily. This served as a brisk reminder that you had just woken up.

“Wait-!” you panted, pushing at his chest. “I didn’t brush my teeth.” A heat spread over your face, much to his amusement. 

“I really don’t care,” he retorted, moving back in until you stopped him again. 

“But, it’s gross– my mouth tastes gross-” He bit back a laugh and leaned back in anyway, kissing you for only a second before pulling away again when you pressed on his chest. 

“It’s a waste of time to get up and brush your teeth when my mouth could be occupied with something else in a second,” he mumbled, moving his kisses from your mouth to your jaw and finally to your neck. 

“W-What?”

Rather than answering, his fingers slowly moved to your inner thighs, trailing up and up until they were tracing against your pussy. “Unless you tell me to stop.” He paused then, waiting for your answer. 

As if you could say anything else, given the predicament, besides, “I don’t want to stop.” 

A sound, something caught between a groan and a whine, vibrated against your skin, teeth nipping at your neck as his ministrations resumed.

His two middle fingers slipped against you with ease, finding that you were already soaked. You had been since you first felt his breath brush against your neck while you were sitting on his lap. That feeling had goosebumps spreading over your skin, little waves of gratification leading straight down between your thighs that he was toying with now. 

Slow and gentle circles rubbed against your clit, spreading the accumulating wetness all over. You felt your nails sink into the skin of his biceps, but you couldn’t help it; this feeling was unmatched by anything you’d felt before. With the back of your hand to your mouth, you tried your hardest to suppress the mewls that were slipping out, but when his tongue slipped over that certain spot on your neck, all of your efforts were in vain. 

A low moan fell from your mouth involuntarily, followed by pathetic, breathy pants. He took note of the reaction and did it again, earning the same response. Little pinpricks of pleasure zipped across your nerves, leaving you a heady mess. It felt like your head was underwater, the sound muffled by the lulling voice that begged him to keep going and never stop. 

Or was that you?

His breathy laughter barely registered in your mind. The only true indication is the vibrations from his chest. He could’ve been making fun of you, and you wouldn’t have been lucid enough to notice– too caught up in feeling this good to care. “I won’t stop. Not until you ask me to.” 

Now, who would ask for something like that?

When his teeth slightly nipped against that one spot right below your jaw, his two fingers slipped inside of you, only dipping in enough to give you a taste before retreating to circle around the entrance. He was teasing you, but you were getting off on it. 

Who knew…

His kisses strayed lower, moving down your collarbones to settle on your chest. Over your shirt, his mouth wrapped around your nipple, coating it in the warmth from his tongue. The dampened cloth cooled instantly when he pulled away, moving on to the other to repeat the action. However, this time, after soaking the cloth with his spit, his teeth bit into the bud.

It keeps getting better…

“I’ve barely touched you,” he chuckled, slipping his fingers back inside of you. It was then that you realized that you had spoken out loud once again. How embarrassing. Before he could move any lower, you grabbed onto his shirt and tugged him in your direction, slotting his mouth against yours. “Thought you didn’t want to kiss me anymore?”

His rhetorical question should have grounded you, but instead, it had the opposite effect. You suppose that’s just what his voice did to you– it sent you somewhere that wasn’t here . It made you feel fucking high; that had to be the reason for the words he was able to pull out of you. 

You shook your head. “No, no kissing…”

Forget the embarrassing words; that was nothing compared to the humiliating sounds he was forcing out of your mouth. 

“No?” he asked coyly, speeding up the pace of his fingers. The noise between your legs was fucking sloppy. “No kissing, then what do you want?”

Your tongue slid across your bottom lip, collecting your combined spit that gathered there. “You… I want you.”

“Mhm, but you already have me,” he continued to taunt, working you higher than you’ve ever been before. “So, what do you want me to do, then? Since I can’t kiss you.”

“U-um…” His pace quickened, stealing your ability to form coherent sentences. 

“I can get you off, make you cum,” he offered, glancing down where his hand disappeared up your nightgown. “You’re really close. I can feel it.”

Such foreign, dirty words spilling off his tongue.

You shook your head again. “I can’t– don’t work that way.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, working on holding back a smirk, you’re sure. “I beg to differ. The way you’re squeezing around my fingers, I know you can do it. You’re right there.” To prove his point, he maneuvered his fingers inside in such a way as to bring you right to that metaphorical edge within seconds.

Yet, he didn’t let me fall over. He kept you balanced right there, almost over-stimulating, but in such a good way. 

“Think you can do it now?”

He already knew the answer– you both did. His question wasn’t a matter of if you thought you could do it; you both already knew it was going to happen. No, his question wasn’t even a question at all. It was a bargaining chip– he wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to admit that he got you there, he wanted you to ask for it.

He had you in a fit of desperation. There’s nothing he could ask of you that you wouldn’t helplessly devote yourself to. 

So, you nodded your head. “Yes, please, ple-”

That’s all it took for him to massage his fingers in just the right way inside of you, all while rubbing his palm against your clit, sending you over the edge just like that. You shielded your face on his shoulder, unabashed moans escaping your mouth as you trembled underneath him. Your hips moved against his palm, creating your own rhythm to ride out your orgasm while his fingers mimicked it perfectly. 

All of your nerve endings felt as though they’d ignited, flames lasting what seemed like minutes until your hips slowed to a halt. The pleasure slowly fizzled out, leaving you an absolute panting mess with a brain that seemed to be working at half-speed. You felt yourself wincing as he pulled his fingers out of you, too sensitive to the movement. 

Realization slowly started creeping in.

For minutes, you stayed in that position as the lust-filled haze lifted from the room. It was like plunging into ice-cold water– a hurt, charged feeling that screamed ‘I fucked up.’  

His hand moved to the armrest of the couch as he tried to push himself up, but you latched onto him, securing his towering frame to yours. “Hey-”

“I don’t want to look at you yet,” you mumbled into the collar of his shirt. Tears sprang into your eyes as he pried himself away from you. Your gaze didn’t meet his; you were too ashamed. “I’m horrible-”

“No, you’re not-” His finger moved under your chin, forcing your face up to meet his eyes. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, wiping away the tears with his thumb. 

“I feel sick– I-I…oh, my god-” Your stomach churned as hot tears coated your cheeks. 

“No, no– it’s okay,” he whispered, hands falling to either side of your face. “I promise, it’s okay-”

But you couldn’t believe him. How on Earth could this whole thing be okay? 

“I’m a monster,” you sobbed, pushing yourself away from him. His hold didn’t relent, and instead, he held you in place.

“You’re not a monster– it was a mistake. You’re a good person and even good people make mistakes-”

“I’m a cheater.”

And on that obvious confession, he didn’t try to deny that. It was the truth; his silence proved so.

Just your luck, a familiar phone chime rang out, cutting through the silence. With a shaky hand, you grabbed your phone and saw a text notification from an Unknown Number. 

“I have to tell him.”

* * * * *

[You’re actively trying to make new friends]

Um, no? Not really.

Click.

[Your living and work areas are organized]

Definitely not.

Click.

[Even a tiny mistake will make you doubt your abilities and knowledge]

Yes. Yes, all the way.

Click and submit. 

Finally, you had finished the very long questionnaire. Your eyes followed the spinning circle as it calculated your results for the online personality test. Should you have been wasting company time to take this? Probably not, but who was going to stop you?

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice peeped from the doorway. Your eyes flipped to the perky brunette, who didn’t hesitate to blind you with one of her smiles. “Satoru has requested to see you.”

Oh, perfect. Just the man you didn’t want to see. 

“Can you tell him I’m busy?” you asked, knowing it was wishful thinking. You’d been doing this to her all week, and been avoiding Satoru just the same. 

After coming to the mutual decision to just, once again, forget that it happened, you quickly found that you were not able to do that, and the constant flashbacks of him fingering the fuck out of you were starting to make your stomach churn with some sort of feeling you weren’t able to figure out. It wasn’t discontent, not even guilt–it was something closer to resentment, but you hadn’t fully figured it out for yourself yet.

The other assistant turned back to face you. “Look, I like you. You’re my favorite assistant that Satoru has had so far. But I’m not going to participate in whatever feud you two have going on.”

You huffed out a sigh, deflating back into your chair with a diminished sense of hope. “Is he at least in a good mood?”

She winced. “It’s definitely been better, but the longer you keep him waiting, the worse it’ll be. He seems really… antsy this morning.”

Damn.

You looked back at your screen, noticing it was still spinning with its calculation. With a grumble, you closed out of the window and exited your office, hesitant steps leading you in his direction. Just as you made it to his door, hand raised to knock, the doors flew open to reveal an erratic-seeming Satoru.

“Christ-” you gasped as he pulled you into his office, shutting the door behind you. “What the hell? Shoko said you were antsy but-”

“Shut up,” he snapped gruffly, sifting through loose papers on his desk. “Sit down.”

You bristled under his tone. “I’m not a dog.”

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Stand there. The IT department called a little bit ago. Said a certain employee flagged some of their search filters.”

You crossed my arms. “And?”

“And per protocol, I had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I found out you’ve been blowing me off all week, saying you were busy, but you’ve just been looking at this?” he retorted, splaying the papers out so that you could see. 

“You went through my search history? You can’t do that-!”

“I can do whatever I want on a computer I own. I’m the boss. Let’s go through some of what you searched for. Cheating statistics, is kissing considered cheating , is holding hands considered cheating , is it okay to kiss your best friend-” Your face felt like it was on fire. “Signs of cheating , a cheater mentality, cheating with your boss-”

“Alright-!”

“No, it’s not alright! You single-handedly searched the word cheating over a hundred times! Do you know how long it took for me to explain this to IT?!”

You gasped, “You told them?!”

“They already knew about it! They’re the ones who told me your search history was flagged!” he groaned, clearly exasperated as he shuffled the search history papers into a pile and tossed them harshly into the trash. “You’re lucky everyone signs an NDA, or this little stunt would be all over the place by tomorrow morning. And that’s assuming they actually read the document before signing on the line.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “My search history. Sure, okay, Satoru. I forgot everyone just knows who I am-”

“No. But they know who I am. They know we’re friends. They know you’re my assistant. So that little search– kissing your best friend, cheating with your boss– people want to know that kind of shit, and they’re willing to pay for it. If that happens, it’s not just you that’s on the line. It’s me and my reputation– this entire fucking company. Now, sit.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk with a glare. 

“No, I don-”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you; sit down. Now.” He stared you down, waiting for you to turn away and deny him his request, but something in you was holding you back from doing so. So, after a few seconds, you took your seat, looking up at him as he leaned back on the edge of the desk. His stare held just as much anger as yours. “We’re going to resolve this issue-”

You let out a humorless laugh. “There’s no issue to resolve. We’re forgetting that it happened, remember?”

“Oh, I remember that being what we both agreed on doing, but I can’t help but feel like you’ve not held up your side of the deal.”

“And what makes you think that?”

The muscle in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, trying his best to remain composed. “Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t appreciate yours, either.”

“Right.” You clasped your hands together over your knee. “If we’re on the same page, why am I still here?”

His knuckles turned white due to how hard he was gripping the desk behind him. “Because you’re angry.”

“Correct.”

“Why-?”

“We can talk about this later when the drugs aren’t making you give a shit about the situation.”

“Screw you, I’m sober.”

“Then a couple of lines should do you some good.”

His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “You know what, fine. I’ve been trying to fix whatever is wrong all week; it’s your turn now. Suguru and I are going to Vault Borealis this evening. I’ll tell them to add your name to the list, so show up or don’t. You’re dismissed for today.”

And that walk back to your office was so fucking cold.

|| Series Masterlist || FALLACIES >INEBRIATIONS>

taglist is open :) @man1cslut @tetsuski @arrozyfrijoles23 @kazukuro @salmonroebonitoflakes

[w0rm3y]

read to filth- s. gojo your daughter has no filter and doesn't hesitate to speak her mind about anything, but it seems her biggest target is always her father

════════════════════════════

Gojo could admit that when he was younger, he was a menace. His attitude even bled into his adulthood, too, and this earned him the title of the world's most insufferable. However, he did not anticipate this attitude of his to also be passed down to his child, but here he was, having to defend himself daily from your daughter’s remarks–she was constantly coming for his neck, and she was ruthless. 

He shouldn’t get so upset, but sometimes those backhanded compliments and poorly disguised insults really hit him where it hurts. For some reason, your daughter seemed to possess this innate ability to get under her father’s skin, and he was starting to wonder if you might’ve had a hand in it. Satoru could coat himself in the thickest layer of his infinity, and still, your daughter’s words would find a way to get underneath it.

“You look like you read with your finger,” she said one day.

“What does that mean?” he asked, concerned.

“Like you trace your finger under the words in a book as you read.”

Why did that hurt to hear from a girl who can barely read herself? Fuck, he was the one teaching her how to read in the first place.

Another time, she asked, “Is that what you’re wearing?” as soon as her father stepped out of his bedroom, dressed for the day. But the tone in which the question came from her mouth was all too critical and had Satoru glancing down at his own outfit. 

“Yeah.”

She huffed, giving his attire another once over. “Okay…”

“We’re just going to the park, baby.”

“I know, but you look like you’re going to the park.”

His brows came together in a deep furrow. “Is that a problem?”

“I guess not.”

Why the fuck is his daughter handing out fashion advice? He lays out her clothes every night, and she doesn’t seem to have a problem with them.

“Should I go change?”

She shook her head, moving toward the door. “Don’t bother.”

Usually, he takes it, not wanting to make a big deal about it because she was only six–did she even understand that condescending tone she was speaking with? It wouldn’t be so surprising that Satoru’s daughter was born being the biggest diva the world had ever known.

But today was different.

“Daddy?” your daughter called from the hallway, outside the living room.

Gojo sighed, mentally preparing himself for whatever your daughter was about to throw at him today. All he really wanted to do was enjoy the time off from work, not get his feelings hurt by a six year old. But alas, he could not avoid your daughter, for she was also his daughter–she also looked just like him, so maybe that’s why he was having such a hard time taking all these hits from her. 

At least he could understand why he wasn’t very much liked as a child. He knew all too well how humiliating it was to be read to filth by someone so small, with eyes so wide and so blue, and not being able to do anything to stop them. 

“Yes?” he matched her playful tone, hoping it would lessen in impending insult. She stepped in front of him, sliding onto his lap to regard him with critical eyes. Instantly, Satoru felt inferior and insecure.

“Did you get your haircut?”

“I did. Do you like it?”

She shrugged, eyeing it with slight disapproval. “Was the barber new?”

His smile flickered. “What?”

“The guy who cuts your hair. Was he new?”

Satoru took in a solid deep breath. “No, baby. He wasn’t new.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

A lapse in silence filled the room while she internally judged her father’s hair. “It’s cut like he was new.”

He sighed despondently, patting her on the head. “Thank you, baby.”

Later that night, you were quickly cornered in the kitchen as soon as your husband had the chance to do so. 

“Our daughter is a bully,” he whispered.

 “What’d she say?”

“She only insinuated that my haircut was ugly.” You held your giggle behind your hand, and the sight of that had his face falling. “Is it?”

Snickering, your hands found his cheeks. “No, no. It looks good. Very handsome as always.”

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XIV. BLISTER

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: violence/torture, Yorozu slander, manipulation, graphic depictions of wounds, Sukuna being Reader's #1 supporter--he loves his queen, also opening up Manami slander because she sucks in this, touch of angst, Sukuna's inner thoughts about Reader, which is super fun imo

a/n: Okay, I lied about this one being the interlude. After going back and looking at my doc, it makes more sense to split it up. So, here, we have Sukuna's pov, next we'll have Reader's pov, and then we'll have the interlude--which I'm super excited to show you guys because we get a new character :D

WORD COUNT: 4k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >INTERLUDE> BLISTER; fouskála; φουσκάλα

After confirming that you were truly asleep this time, after a cup or two of opium tea, Sukuna slipped out of your grasp, exiting your childhood bedroom in search of your mother. He was careful to keep his steps light and quiet, for if you woke up to him readying himself to return to the underworld, you’d most certainly begin to panic–Sukuna didn’t like it when you panicked.

It wasn’t just your inner entity stirring up anxiety, which would cause his own inner entity to mimic that feeling, but it was always the look on your face that broke him. Your swollen eyes, wet with tears, and your puffy, blushing cheeks were almost enough to do him in, to make him cave into your terrible suggestion. Sukuna knew better than to allow the world to starve, even if that meant six months of pain for you and himself. 

Of course, he’d truly burn the world for you if he needed to, but he knew that deep down, that’s the last thing you’d want. Grief and the anticipation of agony were clouding your judgment, as they would for anyone, Sukuna included, but he couldn’t be selfish about this. And, yes, adhering to that ‘death to all mortals’ notion of yours counted as him being selfish, not just to you, his wife, but to all of humanity as well. 

He was a passive god, as much as the world liked to believe he wasn’t. The only difference between his mercy and Wasuke’s, the deity loved by the entire surface, was that Sukuna had a more brutal way of maintaining justice for his region. 

At least he was ruling his land. Wasuke, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. He was allowing his mortals to carry on as they pleased, but that was nothing Sukuna could do with his own because there was another difference at play between the brothers: genuine care. Sukuna knew that if he chose to be selfish, if he decided to let the world starve, Wasuke wouldn’t care. That alone makes him a terrible ruler.

With all of that said, it still didn’t change the fact that this separation was going to be the worst pain he’s ever felt. Not just because he’d writhe in agony, but he had to live these next six months knowing his beloved wife would be writhing as well. He would try his best to make it as smooth as possible for you, but he knew the reality of the situation wouldn’t allow for much leeway. So, he’d take what he could get. 

Upon stepping into the fire-lit lounging room, Manami glanced up from the cooing Yuji to her son-in-law, an inevitable glare curling onto her mouth. The other two, Unoko and Hatsuyo, kept their heads bowed low. He disregarded the tense silence and retrieved the bag of supplies he’d put together for you last night and moved towards Manami.

“Close enough.”

That command made Sukuna roll his eyes at the Olympian, tossing her order away– who is she to order around the king of the underworld?

“You may have raised her, you might think you know her, but the woman who entered the underworld two years ago is not the same woman asleep upstairs. So, hate me if you’d like, but you will listen to me when I talk about our common interest.”

Manami turned her nose up at the god, but conceded nonetheless. “Proceed, then.”

“You two, as well.” He motioned to the other two women. From the bag, he pulled out your garden gloves. “Make sure she wears these when she’s outside-”

Manami huffed, “Oh, you can’t be serious, Sukuna-”

Next, he placed a jar of honey down on the table and what remained of the flower seeds. “This is for honey cake and her tea. And these seeds… just let her know she has them. She needs to stay distracted, so let these occupy her mind, but not so occupied that she forgets to eat.”

“Do you take my daughter for a fool?”

A covered ceramic dish of oil was next. “And she likes this for her hair after a bath.”

Manami only scoffed over his orders, while Unoko and Hatsuyo nodded, taking note of everything he was saying. 

“Keep her distracted as much as possible. If she isn’t paying attention to the pain, it doesn’t hurt so bad. She believes the opium tea is for the injury in her side, but if it’s necessary, you may use it as a sedative if she gets too restless. I’ve shown you both the doses, hopefully you can… pass the information along to her mother since she isn’t receptive to me.” That comment only made Manami grumble under her breath. “Both of you are aware of the state of mind she can slip into, so anticipate that. If she dies, I will torture you both very, very slowly.”

“Yes, my king,” they muttered in unison. 

“Keep her warm, too.” He stood to his feet, slipping out of his cloak before handing it off to Unoko. “Use this. The scent will help if she panics, and she will as soon as she wakes up, but don’t cover her with it until the tea is out of her system. I gave her two doses to help her sleep. She’ll begin to sweat it out soon, so for now, keep her cool.”

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Manami asked, scoffing once more at his overpreparedness.

“No. This is what she’s used to now.” Turning back to the servants, he said, “If you run low on supplies, tell me when the portal opens again-”

“Good gods. My daughter will be fine. This is honestly an insult. Do you think I cannot care for her?”

Sukuna gritted his teeth. “You’re going to get one chance to prove that you can, or I’ll drag you to the underworld with me, and you can live eternity in Tartarus. You consider me a nemesis, but as of right now, that feeling isn’t mutual. However, I don’t mind loathing you as you do me, and I certainly don’t mind crowning you my enemy.” His red irises sliced right through her. “Take care of my wife. I’ll be back in a week.”

* * * * *

To be writhing in misery indulged Sukuna’s masochistic tendencies, and to be empty and void of all emotion catered to his reclusive disposition. To inflict suffering complemented the sadism, and watching his victims twitch in their bloodied agony satiated his bloodlust. Eons of the same cycle created a comfort for him; he knew what to expect, and he came to love all the darkest parts of that very cycle. To him, it all made sense, and he had grown used to the idea that that would always be his undertaking.

Because if there could be one more attribute tacked onto his name, it would be predictable, perhaps even stubborn. He was a creature of habit, and he didn’t deviate from his path. Even if it was a path that most would never consider taking, nothing could pull him away from it. To him, it was set in stone. 

Except that stone seemed to liquify and melt, much like the snow in your damned garden. 

The cycle remained the same, but it was all so backwards now, forming a blatant contradiction to the monotony he had grown used to. He could no longer take pleasure from the self-inflicted misery because you were feeling it, too. He could not remain impassive to it all, nor can he say that he’d rather be alone than in your presence. The suffering he’s subjected you to made that usual sadistically saccharine feeling taste bitter on his tongue, so much so that it turned up nausea in his stomach. And gods forbid, this separation makes you do something that would satisfy his bloodlust in such a cruel way.

He could admit that if it were ever your blood on his hands, he would never recover, but that would be a lie–for your blood has stained his hands a few times already, but things were different now. 

Life was simple before your existence.

Being selfish and numb was so fucking easy–he wished for it to be like that again. He wished that he could think of a future that you were not a part of, and he wished there could be even a fraction of a second in these long, torturous days where he didn’t think of you in some capacity. You were like a disease quickly spreading over his entire body, melting his flesh as you went, only for you to use those stupid fucking hands of yours to soothe it over, and grow him new skin-- skin that would always belong to you.

Manami had always allowed the seasons to touch the underworld, but the sun didn’t mean a damn thing to Sukuna, for it all felt like winter, even in midsummer. But when you were born, he felt it. His whole world tilted to accommodate your glowing entirety–that’s when he could finally understand a mortal’s affinity for sunshine. No longer could he see melting snow and complain about the puddles of mud, because he knew those stupid flowers would come soon after, and flowers always made him think of you, even before he knew you as he does now.

Spring became his favorite season, while autumn became the bane of his existence, and this change of his seasonal preference came twenty years ago. He didn’t even know you yet, but he didn’t need to when he could feel you, even all the way down below the surface. That innocent connection lasted until your 18th birthday, and even without the changing of the seasons, he felt the shift of it becoming something more mature. He wondered if you could feel it, too, but he soon realized the truth of it–you couldn’t feel a thing.

However, now you could, and that’s all that really mattered to him.

Yet again, it was another contradiction to this insidious bond bestowed upon you both. Sending you to the surface alone made him wish that you still hated him; it made him wish that you were still completely numb to it all. If you were, at least he could continue happily in that familiar cycle of his, for it was a cycle that only he could enjoy. Alone.

As soon as he stepped through the portal, it sucked in to itself until it closed, leaving behind the cracked stone wall of your shared chambers. An ache began simmering in his chest, but at the same time, a chill settled in his limbs, solidifying not only his numbness but the anticipated loneliness that he’ll have to endure for the next six days.

The entity inside of him stirred, begging him to submit to its command so it may find its other half, but he snuffed the urge out just as quickly as it prodded in his mind. The only thing it would do is prolong the inevitable, and with his sobering thoughts, he knew better than to go back on the plan you both had already decided on, no matter how painful this was about to be for him without any substance to dull it.

Eighteen years, he spent numbing his own ache with that opium; using it every day until it became a crutch of his–that’s the only way he knew how to fully cope with the separation. He sent it all to the surface with you, for you would need it more than he would. But the sobriety left him susceptible to wandering thoughts that would lead to bad ideas. 

If he didn’t find something to occupy his mind soon, he’d go insane.

Luckily, he had an entire encampment of mortals waiting for his guidance. With the current time, that being just after midnight, he knew progress for them would be minimal without sufficient sleep, but that would be a problem for them to figure out on their own. He needed something–anything, preferably more pain to dull the current pain. With that in mind, he let down his guard, slipped out of the plated armor beneath his clothing, and stepped out of your shared chambers.

Just as the doors shut behind him, Yorozu appeared in his path. His spirits were already dead, but with her presence, those spirits felt like they were rotting.

“What are you doing waiting outside my chambers like that? I don’t remember calling for you.”

“Just following the routine, my king.” She dared to raise her eyes from the floor, but rather than defying the rule entirely, she settled her gaze on Sukuna’s chest.

“Routine? Where in my routine are you to be waiting on me without my permission?”

“We always meet under these circumstances. The queen is gone, you need a distraction-”

“Not interested,” he grumbled, waving her away with his hand, thoughts already shifting toward something else–something of more importance to him. That is, until she wrapped her fingers around the hand he was dismissing her with. A flurry of mixed emotions rushed over him, though he couldn’t figure out just what he was feeling. All he knew was that he hated it. “You’ve gathered a lot of courage in the time I’ve spent away from you.”

A redness colored her cheeks. “Thank you, my king-”

“It wasn’t a compliment, but rather a pitiful statement.” His grip closed in around her hand, tightly securing it in his fist until he felt her bones shift, followed by a muffled whine of pain. “Look at what it has done to you. It gave you the confidence to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but his grip only tightened. “I apologize, my king. I was only hoping to connect with you as we used to.”

“You mean the nights when I’d use you for your body? Because that’s all you are to me, you know that, don’t you?” He twisted her arm, pulling her closer to hear her heartbeat thump wildly in her chest. “You’re a disposable body. Say it. Out loud, I want to hear you.”

Hesitantly, she repeated, “I’m a disposable body.” 

The sound of her tears hitting the cobblestone floor sounded better than any song her heart could play for him. 

“And that’s what you’ve always been to me. The day you left the Cocytus, you stopped being a little water nymph, and you became a whore. That’s what you promised me in exchange for pulling you from the swamp you came from. Do you remember?”

“You said I could stand beside you.”

“And while that spot was empty beside me, you were allowed to. But it has since been filled, and you know that.” He released her wrist, sending her stumbling back a few steps. “You’ve never been forced to stay here because you’re not needed. Your presence was a simple exchange of goods–goods that are no longer required by me. You have absolutely nothing to offer me anymore. Still, I allow you to stay in this shrine out of my own kindness, but you’re starting to really piss me off.”

Stepping forward toward her, Sukuna watched as she matched those steps, taking hers backwards to add distance between them. 

“You forget the rules, you forget your place, you disrespect my wife–your queen, and the only reason you’ve not been punished for that is because it’s not a punishment I should choose for you. Do you know how lucky you are that she hasn’t decided to tear you apart yet? Just a few days ago, I ripped men to shreds for her because she asked me, and I hope you do not think you’re exempt from her orders of execution. You’ve wronged her so many times, she’s let you get away with it so many times-”

“Sukuna, please-”

“And you disrespect her again by coming to me when you’re aware of our separation, and you ask me to take you to bed? Are you really so stupid? Has the whore I’ve been bedding for the past 18 years been a complete idiot, or are you just ignorant? Your lack of intelligence sickens me, and the stench of desperation that wafts from you is pathetically disgusting–you disgust me. And a vile creature like you doesn’t deserve courage or confidence, not if she’ll use it to touch the ones who are ranked so far above her.”

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Give me your hand.” Her back hit the wall behind her as she realized she was now cornered at the end of the corridor. Sobbing, she shook her head, denying his order. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Please, don’t! Please, don’t take my hand, I won’t do it again!”

Her back slid down the wall until she sat in a crumpled mess at his feet. He relished in the sound of her cries for a moment, watching as she violently shook with each intake of her breath. 

His face softened, as did his voice, as he knelt beside her.

“Now, why would I take your hand? You think I’d cut it off for touching me, when touching is your whole purpose here, isn’t it?” The lighthearted lilt in his tone made her raise her head from her knees, teary eyes locking with his chest again.

“Y-You won’t?”

“Of course not. Do you take me for a monster, Yorozu?” 

She sniffled. “No. No, I don’t, my king.”

Bringing his knuckle under her chin, he raised her head, allowing her to look into his eyes. As soon as she did, her pupils dilated, expanding as an awestruck gasp fell from her mouth. The look of it made Sukuna’s heart thud just a beat faster–how fucking stupid could she really be?

“How blessed you must feel right now to be granted such a privilege. You must feel like my equal.”

“Thank you…” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“May I see your hand now?” Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her shaky hand, placing it in his open palm between them. He rotated hers around until they were pressed open against each other. “Good. Now, keep looking in my eyes, okay? I need to make sure you truly understand my next words.”

All too quickly, Sukuna pressed the back of her hand against the wall, trapping it between his palm and the cobblestone behind it. Fear slithered back into those dilated pupils of hers as they flicked to her restricted hand. He grabbed her jaw, bringing her attention back to his face.

“S-Sukuna-”

“Quiet.”

In seconds, his open hand that was pressed to hers, holding it against the wall, caught fire, instantly searing the skin of her flattened palm as she began to scream. The one holding her jaw slipped up to her mouth to keep her silent.

“Whores mean nothing to me. Especially the ones who stray toward disrespect and feel superior to the ones above them.” As he began to feel her skin bubble with blisters, he pulled back his flames, but kept his palm pressed right up against hers. “Feel that? Your melted flesh–I almost rendered it to the bone.”

He slipped it away from her then, allowing her to pull it onto her lap.

“Your queen can reach through my flames without singeing a single hair on her body.” He grabbed Yorozu's wrist and raised her hand in front of her face so she could see the difference. “But your skin melts just like a mortal’s would. Do you think I’d want someone so weak to stand beside me as a wife? As a queen?”

“N-No.”

“Good.” He tapped her cheek and pushed himself to his feet. “You’ve already been told not to approach me of your own volition; those were direct orders from your queen. Perhaps now that you’re hearing them from my mouth, you’ll understand-- and when I say again that a deity who can die will always mean more than a whore who can live forever, you understand that, too.”

He brushed her sticky flesh from his hand onto his garment with a twitch of his upper lip. He found the feeling of it to be absolutely revolting.

“You’re still more than welcome to leave, Yorozu. No one has ever held you down here. But if you choose to stay, I’ll allow it. Since I let you keep both of your hands, you should be back to work in no time, earning your keep. And if you’d like to keep your life here, may I suggest showing respect to your queen? You can start by never approaching me again.”

With one last pat of his hand against his garment, he turned on his heel, ready to make use of the mortals on the training field. 

That is, until she stopped him. 

“I’m sorry, my king,” she weakly called out.

Without even glancing over his shoulder, he gave her the answer he knew would eat her up inside. 

“You should be. I’m very disappointed in you.”

“I’ll do better-”

“Don’t bother.” He took one more step forward before pausing. “See to it that your hand gets cleaned up nicely. Word is that you’ve been servicing the entire king’s guard; they’ll be needing your attention soon, I’m sure.”

|| MIS M.List || >INTERLUDE>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy @blkmystery

[w0rm3y]

overboard- k. nanami your daughter is all too excited to show off her new back-to-school outfits to her father ════════════════════════════

[11:27 am] You: Will you be home this evening? [11:42 am] Ken: I can if I need to be. Why? [11:52 am] You: We went back to school shopping today. She wants to show you her new outfits. [11:53 am] Ken: I’ll be home around before dinner.

════════════════════════════ “Oh, wow,” your husband said as he watched your daughter step out of the hallway to stand in front of him for the fourth time since he had returned from work. She gave a tiny spin, making sure her skirt swished around her knees. “This one is beautiful, sweetie.”

“You said that about the last one, too,” she complained, though she was smiling. You knew she was all too happy to soak up her father’s praise.

“They are all so pretty, I can’t help it.”

“Just wait until you see the next one,” she called, and bounded off to her room to change, and when she emerged again, now donning a pretty blue dress and a white cardigan, she stood before her father with the brightest grin. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, my,” he playfully gasped, making her already beaming smile widen. “This one is my favorite.”

“Wait! You have to see it with my new backpack.” She went to grab it, toting it back over with her as she slid her arms through the straps and gave another twirl, presenting the new addition to her outfit. 

Your husband hummed in agreement over the change. “Yes, the backpack makes all the difference. I think this is the one.”

“And look at this!” she exclaimed, pulling out her matching lunchbox, but she barely even gave her father time to look at it before she was pulling out her new school supplies, too, making sure to show him each one.

And Kento, being the patient and loving father that he was, looked at each thing presented to him and managed to cycle through his compliments enough that your daughter didn’t realize he was repeating them. ════════════════════════════ After dropping her off for her first day, albeit a few minutes late because of all the pictures you and your husband (mostly your husband) had taken of her, and as soon as you slipped into the car, he cleared his throat. 

You glanced over at him, watching as he lowered his phone into his lap to ask, “Can you send me the photos you got of her as well? I’m sending them in to be developed.”

“Sure, but don’t go overboard this time.” He scoffed at you, as if what you said wasn’t possible. “Remember, we ran out of picture frames last time. And wall space.”

Your husband sighed, “Fine, fine. I won’t get too many.”

But Kento, in fact, did get too many, and he did go overboard, and, no, he doesn't feel bad about it.

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XIII. EXECUTION

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, forced cannibalism, referenced suicide, attempted SA, angst, but also cute Sukuna x Reader moments, Reader is Sukuna's #1 supporter and dick rider--as she should be, freak matched every single time, they were made for each other, soft!sukuna, husband!sukuna, Reader has a moment of body image issues

WORD COUNT: 10k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >BLISTER> EXECUTION; thanátosi; θανάτωση

Your hands began to shake as you scrambled to your feet. The fear of it all was so strong that it pricked at your fingertips, causing a pain that stung terribly. Horrible emotions thickly coated your throat, tears welled up in your eyes, and your breathing increased into unstable pants. The loneliness was terrifying, it was agonizing, so much that there was nothing you could do to stop the ragged sobs from tearing through your mouth. 

Of course, since the consummation, there were brief lapses in your shared time with one another, but they were brief. Very, very brief, and even that was almost too much. Not to mention, you never strayed far from one another. Looking back, you didn’t notice it before, but you could always sense him when he was nearby, yet right now, he was nowhere close to you.

You stumbled out of the secluded area of the garden, consistently reaching out to the bond, desperate to feel something, but you always came up empty. That lack of response, the lack of connection twisted in your chest like a knife. Had you really grown to be so dependent on the bond that a mere hour or two alone is enough to send you into a panic like this? 

You rushed through the castle doors, pushing past servants and shrine keepers without a care for how crazed you looked. Tears blurred your vision as you navigated the corridors, but after so long, you knew them like the back of your hand. And just when you moved past the kitchen doors, you crashed into a body, pushing both of you into a ruffled heap on the floor. The contact with their skin nearly seared yours off.

“My queen!” the woman gasped, trying her best to wrangle you steady.

“Let go of me!” you cried, writhing against their feminine hold. 

“Please, calm down-”

“No, no–let go, please let-”

“My queen!”

Blinking those tears from your eyes, you set your sights on a face you hadn’t seen in so long. You hadn’t even thought of her in over a year. The shocking realization of who you tumbled into brought your racing mind to a halt. This couldn’t be who you thought it was, for that woman was murdered. That woman was fed to the curses; Sukuna told you so.

“Hatsuyo?” you meekly gasped, swallowing back your tears for a moment to address her. 

A relieved sigh fell from her parted lips. “My queen. It’s lovely to see you again–oh!” You brought her into a bone-crushing hug, knocking the wind right out of her. 

“I thought you were dead. H-He said he released you to the hunting grounds.”

“He did. For only a few hours before he came to retrieve me. Said he had a change of heart.” She hugged you back even tighter. “He told me I had one more chance to serve you, and I’d do that by preparing your meals.”

“Gods, I thought… I thought it was my fault! I was so cold to you, and then you were gone! And I– you didn’t deserve that!” You pulled back, holding her by her shoulders. “I am so sorry!”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Really. I’ve enjoyed my time in the kitchen, but I was promoted a few weeks ago to your lady in waiting, so… I’ve been waiting.”

“I had no idea, or I would have come to you sooner.”

With a giggle, she brushed you off. “No worries. I tried to meet with you a few times in the evening, but Uraume was keeping watch outside the king's chambers, and wouldn’t allow me to enter.” Taking her thumb, she wiped the tears from under your eye. “Quit crying, my queen. All is well. Now, what had you in such disarray? You seemed quite shaken.”

And just like that, the reminder of that ache in your chest came back, and now that you remembered, the pain returned tenfold. 

“Sukuna. He left me, I-I don’t know where he went.”

A smile graced her face as she stood to her feet, offering you her hand to help you up. “He only went to the training field.”

“What?”

She nodded. “The soldiers arrived today to begin their training.”

That’s right… he was going to train them-

“Do you know where the field is?” you asked, already stumbling down the corridor. The tears came back as that pain settled above your heart; it made you feel sick. 

“I do, but-”

Already sensing her apprehension, you cut her off. “Please, don’t withhold this from me. You don’t understand how badly it hurts. Please, Hatsuyo.”

Her lips pressed into a flat line, but she conceded. “At the crossroads you meet on your way to the sanctuary, take the left. The field is at the bottom of that hill, but please allow me to fetch a guard for you-” 

But you were already moving before she finished giving you directions. 

* * * * *

The trek to get to the sanctuary was a long one to begin with, so when your heart twisted in a way that didn’t feel natural, you began to worry that you wouldn’t make it in time. How could he just leave you alone like that? Knowing that this was the pain you’d feel– how dare he? 

Pained whimpers tumbled from your mouth as you rubbed at your chest, hoping to ease the feeling, but your effort was in vain. If anything, it made it worse. Then a startling realization hit you: this is exactly how you’d feel on the surface. This is what he was trying to protect you from. 

Your lower lip trembled as a fresh onslaught of tears dripped down your cheeks. Not just from the stabbing feeling in your heart, but the anticipation of being separated for six months. Six months– that alone made your limbs unsteady, and soon after, you collapsed onto your hands and knees.

You can’t do this.

Bile began to rise in the back of your throat.

You’re not strong enough for this. 

A blackness crept into the sides of your vision.

You’re going to-

A familiar rumble of laughter echoed in the distance, followed by his voice, jeering, “It’s no wonder the West was able to raid your villages so easily. I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed such weakness before– this is honestly pathetic.”

Just that was enough to give you the strength to push yourself onto your feet and continue. Staggering down the hill, you tripped a few more times, shredding your knees on the rocks, slicing up your wrists and arms on the tree bark you’d stumble into, but that pain could never hold a candle to this… agonizing separation. 

The closer you got to the field, the more clearly you could hear the men training. Grunts and groans, the clashing of swords, and unimpressed commentary from Sukuna. As much as he sounded like a cruel tyrant, you’d give anything to be one of those soldiers right now, under his critical eye, being scolded for less than perfection. 

At the bottom of the hill, men meandered about, limping and bleeding, cursing your husband under their breath. However, when their eyes landed on you, they all fell silent. You’re sure a sobbing, battered, bloody woman emerging from the wood line would have been a bit odd.

“Where is he?” you asked, grabbing onto the closest man that you could, who hissed when your fingers sank into his sticky, sweaty skin. When he didn’t answer, you moved on to the next soldier. “My husband–where is he?!” And then to the next soldier, asking the very same question.

“Let go of me, miss-” Other soldiers came over to help pry you away, but with their presence came the inability to breathe properly. “You need to relax-”

“Don’t make me ask again! Where is he?” The group of men you’d attracted now swarmed around you, making you feel entirely threatened–there were too many of them. Even in your addled, chaotic mind, you knew you’d made a mistake, and one that you weren’t sure you could get yourself out of in this state. 

You knew that to be completely true when you heard another man speak.

“How lucky are we? A non compos bitch stumbling onto a training field.” When that man reached out for you, his touch created a strong wave of nausea in your stomach, one that you couldn’t handle. In the mass of men, you fell to your hands and knees as the world around you began to spin. He was close, you just needed to get away from this group, you just needed to see him, to hear his voice, but all you could see, all you could hear was them. 

“Move away from me,” you weakly muttered, earning a few laughs. 

“Shy and meek now, are you? It was you acting insane when you entered the camp.” Through their taunts, you heard a few distant commands from your husband, doled out to the ones he was training with currently. The sound was comforting until it was overshadowed by the sickening soldier. “Did you want to play with the men or something?”

Your limbs went numb, your lungs closed up, and fear slithered up your spine. And then, you felt the man touch you. You couldn’t even recoil from his touch either. It was like you were being suffocated by people who weren’t your husband; it was killing you. In one last effort to survive this situation you stumbled into, you called out to him. 

“Sukuna…” 

It was too muffled; even the men around you didn’t understand.

“What did she say?” 

Calloused hands slid up your exposed thighs, grabbing onto your garment to move it out of the way. 

“Who cares what she’s talking about. Clearly, she’s insane, look at her.” Those hands settled on your hips, roughly dragging you across the dirt. “But free pussy is still free pussy, no matter what.”

“Are you sure you should do that?”

His hands came to a halt. “Why not? We’ve been away from our homes for so long now. It’s been months. I’ve forgotten what my wife feels like. I need something.”

“What if she’s really taken? She came here looking for her husband.”

“How could one of our wives have stumbled inside the castle gates? Our villages are days away from here.”

“Still, I don’t think you should do that. The king is right over there-” for a moment, your heart fluttered to know he was close by, but it wasn’t enough. You were suffocating. “He would be… displeased by this display and for wasting his time.”

“Allow him to be displeased, then. I’m desperate.” The man's fingers carded through your hair, gripping it harshly in his fist to drag your body back against him. Wincing, you flinched away from him. “Besides, it’s not like the king’s a prude. You saw his neck, didn’t you? He understands that men have their needs.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d approve of this–it isn’t right. I won’t stay here and watch.” The dirt crunched under his tattered boots as he left the circle, and that movement created an opening, one large enough that it carried a gust of wind inside, hitting you directly in the face, forcing that oxygen into your lungs. While it didn’t do anything to give life back to your limbs, it did give you the strength to scream, which you did. Very loudly. In fact, it was loud enough that it echoed through the forest, just like you’d hoped. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the man behind you scolded, pushing away from you, sending your hips harshly to the ground. Without any time to process it, his boot smashed right into your ribcage, cracking the bone with a sickening snap. Another scream, followed by your sobbing cries. Not even the shattered rib could compare to the separation ache. 

You wanted to die.

It was too much, all of it.

And then, it all stopped. Silence ate up the sound of the men; now the only thing that remained were your cries and panting breaths. Through the bouts of shooting pain radiating from your side and from your chest, you finally felt warm, comforting palms slide underneath your body, raising you from the ground so gently, and cradling you to his chest. You didn’t even have to look; you knew it was Sukuna, for the ache in your chest stopped as soon as you felt his touch. You clutched your side and leaned into him.

“Your rib is broken,” he spoke, voice smooth as silk, betraying the absolute lividity you knew he was feeling. However, what you couldn’t decipher was where exactly his anger was targeted. Of course, he was angry with the men for hurting his wife, but was he angry with you, too, for leaving without permission? 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his chest, but he never responded to that. Instead, Sukuna turned to address the group of men. 

“Line up,” he said before speaking to someone over his shoulder. “Uraume, lock the shrine's gates. Noriyoshi, watch the mortal scum while I tend to their queen.” Somewhere in the line of men, a couple of them gasped, and others moaned in shame. They knew the mistake they had made was a grave one. “If they make a run for it, release the hound from the hunting grounds. ”

“Yes, my king,” they answered in unison as Sukuna began carrying you away. 

The entire trek across the training field was silent, save for the sound of Sukuna’s boots crunching in the dirt and your labored breathing. All the training and fighting had quieted down into nothing, and you realized that was due to everyone bowing their heads as he carried you through. Soon enough, he gently placed you down on a stiff kline and knelt beside you, raising his hands to make quick work of removing your chiton. 

However, just before he could peel it off your chest, he paused. Seconds later, the small tent was encased in a ring of tall blue flames. When he was certain no prying eyes would look this way, only then did he remove your garment completely. With a delicate touch, he slid the cloth from underneath your body, bunching it at your hips to give him access to your injury. His eyes flicked over your quivering frame, finally landing on your ribs. That’s when his cool facade betrayed him, and rage glimmered in those ruby-colored irises. 

Taking his palm, he molded it to your side gently, but it still made you stir in pain. Warmth emanated from his hand, somewhat quelling the aching pressure of the broken rib. To bear it, you gritted your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, lying flat on the kline.

“Who brought you here?”

Surely, the one who did would be dead by the end of the day–luckily, you came on your own. That didn’t mean the one who told you about this place was safe, and since you’d yet to discuss Hatsuyo at all, you held your tongue. Now was definitely not the time for that discussion, and there’s absolutely no way you were going to tell him who gave you directions here in the first place. You just got her back. If he knew she told you how to get here, there would be nothing you could do to stop him from killing her for real this time.   

“Myself,” you answered, biting back festering emotions. “I came alone.”

“You shouldn’t wander on your own-”

“Is it not safe for me to do so in my own home?” you hissed, growing irritated with the sharpness in your ribs. 

Deciding to save this blight for a different time, Sukuna sighed, “Is your heart beating that fast because you’re angry with me? Or because you’re scared of me?” Cracking your eyes open, you glanced at him to see that he was already staring down at you with a new emotion you weren’t sure you could pinpoint. When you didn’t respond, he averted his gaze, opting to watch your side instead. “You apologized to me before, so I’ll assume it’s the latter. Though I wish it were the former.”

“You want me to be mad at you?” you choked out, wincing in pain from the shifting of your side. 

“I’d prefer your anger to your fear.” He moved his hand away from you and pulled over a small table set with various medical supplies. Taking a roll of white cloth and some sticky resin, he set it down on the side of the kline. “After I set your rib, we’ll stop at the sanctuary for some opium to help with the pain. Until then, this will hurt.”

You scoffed, “Nothing could hurt worse than the ache of our separation.” He faltered for a moment, a furrow drawing between his brows as he rolled out the cloth. “You prefer my anger, correct? Okay, it's yours. You left me alone.”

The sharpness in your voice made him flinch before muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“The surprise, the gifts–you were trying to distract me so you could get away from me-” The tears resurfaced again and streamed heavily down your cheeks when he didn’t deny your accusations. “I thought you stopped plotting and scheming for my pain months ago-”

“Don’t,” he whispered with a subtle shake of his head. “I prepared a distraction for you. I did not plot and scheme for your pain. Do not say that-”

“It’s true!” A pained cry escaped you from your outburst. Taking a firm hand to your chest, he pressed you back down onto the kline. “You knew it would hurt me when I found out-”

With a tick in his jaw, he groused, “I knew it would hurt you if you found out, not when.”

“Is there a difference?! You did that on purpose-!”

His giant hand gripped your face, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he leaned over you, hissing, “I. Did. Not.”

“You hurt me. You did this to me-”

“No, you hurt yourself after I tried to keep you safe! You were supposed to stay in the garden, you were supposed to stay distracted!”

“But I didn’t!”

“Yes, and now look! You stumbled into an area that you have no place being in, and you’re screaming at me with a broken rib! Stop that!” He pressed your head back down to the kline and grabbed the cloth, stepping one leg over the kline so he straddled it. “I could have told you I would be leaving your side, and for the next couple of hours, you would have writhed in pain. Had the garden kept your attention for just an hour more, you would not have felt an ounce of pain at all. You wouldn’t have known I left you, you would have been safe until I returned to you–stop fucking thrashing around or you’ll hurt yourself.”

With that warning and a precise hand, he slipped it under your back and gently raised your upper torso from the kline. “Raise your arms and hold onto my shoulders. I need to wrap this around your breasts.” 

Reluctantly, you did as he said and waited for him to finish, hoping he’d do so before you caved into this close proximity and kissed him. Despite your anger, that irritated, focused glare on his face while he coiled the fabric over your chest was attractive. You couldn’t let him know that, though. To maintain composure, you said, “This is uncomfortable-”

“Don’t care. Deal with it.”

Gritting your teeth, you curled your fingers into his skin, hoping it was hard enough to leave marks. “It’s tight.”

“It has to be. You have a lot of flesh on your chest to flatten.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet yours. Taking note of your heated stare, he muttered, “I’m choosing to keep my response to myself-”

“No! Answer me!” Rather than complying, he scooped a bit of resin up with a stick and smeared it on the end of the cloth, ignoring you completely. “A lot of flesh on my chest– you mean to say I’m a hefty woman, don’t you?! You think I’ve grown plump while living under your care?!”

With a single nod, he said, “I do.”

“Then I shall stop eating-”

“Don’t be stupid,” he aggravatedly groaned, securing the strap of cloth, holding it while the resin set up. 

“I’m not. If you want a thin wife, might I suggest not forcing her to eat as much? The food that enters my mouth is always guided by your hand, or did you forget a few hours ago in the garden? Even in moments of intimacy, you’re stuffing my face– and your comments of perversion are unneeded; I know what I said was an innuendo.” He suppressed his amusement with a scoff and allowed you to continue, as if he could stop you anyway. “If you’re so put off by my shape, assume the blame, for it’s your fault.”

“Okay.”

Your eyes widened at his nonchalant, monotone answer. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Mm, I think so… oh, wait, forgive me for not thinking of your discomfort.” He touched his head, feigning a look of realization. “Do you need a warm bath, a hot compress?”

Your face curled into a look of confusion. “What?”

“Surely, your muscles are sore, aren’t they? I bet you forgot to stretch.”

“Stretch before what, you stupid man?!”

“Before jumping to that moronic conclusion– I never said anything about your figure! A lot of flesh on your chest is what I said because you, wife, are buxom. You’re a busty woman, understand? These tits of yours are large, which means the cloth around your chest needs to be tight to keep them secured to your body so that I will be able to properly apply this splint for your broken rib!”

The warmth that overtook your face was blistering. 

“You could have just said that.”

“I shouldn’t have to. For days on end, I did nothing but praise your figure.” He clicked his tongue, continuing with the splint. “Gods don’t worship; they’re made to be worshiped by their mortals, yet you were able to flip those rules so easily. You had me on my knees for you– how dare you doubt that?”

At a loss for words, deafening silence ensued for minutes while he worked until he sighed dejectedly. 

“Forgive me for being overbearing about the food, but understand that I vividly remember your rigid corpse. I can still hear Uraume telling me that starvation took you again. I can recount the hours I spent searching for your soul in great detail, only to bring you back to a meager, sickly body.” Your mouth dried as he spoke, still tending to your injury. “Your skin was always freezing and stiff, so while Kenjaku and Uraume would bring you back to life, I’d hold you to keep you warm, and while doing that, I had to feel just how starved you were.”

Your eyes widened at that, a sick feeling twirling in your stomach. 

“It only takes a few minutes for a soul to leave a body after someone dies. The soul is ready to pass on, it willingly lets go to follow that path of death–it’s natural. To bring you back, to get your soul to latch back onto your body… that takes days, and during those days, the bond didn’t recognize Kenjaku’s efforts, the bond didn’t anticipate your revival, it felt like you were gone forever.”

Oh, gods…

“I held your corpse for six weeks, and during that time, I had to feel what I did to you, but I also had to feel the ache of separation, and the torment of this entity rebelling against me for what I had done. But I let it happen five more times because I was so angry, and it was all over nothing. After the last time you died, I told myself I wouldn’t let it happen again because… I couldn’t take it; your cold skin, your macilent body– it was killing me. Rightfully so, I deserve death for that, but I can’t die, nor would I have wanted to before I had the chance to make it up to you.”

You couldn’t drag your eyes away from his face as he spoke to you, still busying himself with the task at hand. 

“Cloaks and boots, keeping my own body temperature high for you, gloves for you to use in the garden when snow still covers the ground– I desire to keep you warm because I know how cold your corpse can be.” He exhaled a small laugh. “And nagging the fuck out of your handmaiden every single night to know what foods you preferred, telling the kitchen to double your portion, and forcing you to eat with me– it’s all to make sure you never know what hunger pains feel like ever again, to make sure you don’t have to touch your own body and feel your bones.”

He applied the final piece of the splint, wrapping it up tight, and secured the whole thing with more resin.

“With all of that said, I accept the blame for… cushioning your figure, and I do it unabashedly, so don’t think for one second that I don’t love it, understand? Feeding you and keeping you warm are never things I could ever feel guilty for.”

Unable to help yourself, you asked, “So… you’re saying it’s noticeable?”

“The weight you’ve gained?” You nodded, making him respond so bluntly, entirely unapologetic, “Yes.”

“And my body is bigger than Yorozu’s?”

He blinked at your question, seemingly confused as to why you’d ask that in the first place. “There’s… something inside of me that’s telling me not to answer that question.”

“...coward,” you scoffed as he pulled your chiton back up, securing it at your shoulders. 

“Be that as it may. Now, is this little spat of ours over? Or was there more to discuss?”

If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you might’ve taken his question as snide or condescending; however, he was being genuine. You suppose that since he was being earnest, you could be the same. 

“Why couldn’t you have just brought me here with you?” 

“A training field is no place for a queen for more than the reasons you’ve endured already. Mortal men are disgusting creatures, and they do disgusting things– things I didn’t think were necessary for you to witness.”

“Quite hypocritical, don’t you think?” He rolled his eyes and gently leaned you back down onto the kline. “This wouldn’t have aided in my progress to becoming a queen who can stomach the grotesque? You had me witness your cursed pet tear men apart. You severed a man’s head right in front of me, I've listened to you sentence many men to death for small offenses in your hearings, a woman was sliced open and her baby was given to me, yet you draw a line at the training field?”

He pondered a response for a moment, jaw clenched, and gritting his teeth before he answered, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’d rather have been here, watching men fight, than planting your flowers in the garden?”

“I would have rather been with you, and you knew that. That’s why you didn’t give me a choice in the matter. So, answer my question– why is the line drawn here?”

Another bout of silence ensued as an internal battle raged on inside of him before he huffed and sat down on the edge of the kline. 

“There are a couple of reasons. The first is that men are lowly, scum-fed creatures. These soldiers have been away from their wives for so long-”

“They would not have touched me like that if they knew I was your wife-”

“That wouldn’t have stopped their wandering eyes or their thoughts. I know how they think, and I’ll be damned if I’d put my wife around something so disgusting. The second their eyes strayed somewhere they shouldn’t have, I’d kill them all. And if there are no soldiers, there is no battle to be fought.” He raked his hand through his hair as he continued. “The second reason: I much prefer the vision of you in the garden than having you near, watching me train mortals to kill other mortals. I want you to be able to stomach death and violence, not grow fond of it, not even grow used to it. And third… you’re distracting to me.”

“So distracting that you’d lose a fight?”

He scoffed, “Of course not. But I’m supposed to be out there training them, wanting to teach them something, make them grow stronger. I’m not supposed to be thinking of how badly I wish to sit beside you in the grass and play with your hair.” Your hand moved to your mouth to stifle a giggle, though he caught it before you could hide it. “Laugh if you’d like, I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Most men would be.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers. 

“I’m not a man, then.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a god that is more loving than he wishes to let on, but I see right through you.”

“I know you do,” he sighed, tracing his thumb over the back of your hand. “We should get you to the sanctuary before you start aching everywhere.” Slipping his hands underneath your body, he raised you to his chest again, not forgetting to raise his temperature to keep you warm. 

“What are you going to do with those men?” 

“Kill them slowly before sending their souls to Tartarus.”

His monotone answer forced a small smile onto your mouth. “Would you spare one if I asked you to?”

“What for?”

“He warned them not to touch me.”

“What a piss-poor attempt that was. Your rib is broken, so he did not try hard enough.”

“But it was him against the entire group; there was not much he could do.” Sliding your hand up his chest, you settled your fingers on the side of his neck, feeling his pulse absent-mindedly. “Just him. I want the rest of them to die miserably, and the one who touched me, save him for last. Make him watch his comrades die, and then kill him the slowest. Make him scream for me.” 

There was a jolt in his pulse as it sped up.

“Making demands for an execution,” he tutted, delighted with your words. 

“Well, you are my executioner just as you are my husband and my mate. You do take requests, don’t you?”

“I do for you.”

“Good.” You gave his cheek a gentle, loving tap before curling it back into your chest. “Then I have something else to request.”

He glanced down at you, waiting to hear your answer. 

“I want to watch.”

* * * * *

Now standing in front of the line of men, secured tightly in Sukuna’s arms, you felt an odd thrill rush through you. All of their heads were bowed, some were even trembling, for they all knew what was waiting for them was a violent death, and all because they couldn’t suppress their own urges. How easy this could’ve been for them if they’d only turned the other way, or offered a hand to help you over to your husband, to their king. 

One of the other soldiers placed down a kline in front of Sukuna after having been ordered to carry it over. Delicately, he lowered you onto it and leaned over you. “I’m only letting you do this because you’re the one who has been wronged,” Sukuna spoke quietly, lips tracing against your ear. “Future executions are mine to dictate, understand?”

“Yes, my king.” 

With your agreement, he pressed a kiss to your temple before standing to his full height, moving around the kline to stand before the line of men.

“Your queen has pardoned one of you. Close your eyes and raise your heads so she may choose who survives.” As they did so, your eyes flicked to each one of the men, but you could only recognize a few. You realized that, being face down in the dirt, you didn’t get a chance to see this man's face. 

However, you did remember one key detail: his boots, for they had been very tattered, on the brink of unwearable. Quickly, you located that familiar set of boots and pointed him out to Sukuna, who grabbed onto his shoulder, shocking the man out of his waking nightmare. 

“You’ll thank her for this on your hands and knees,” he groused, pushing him away from the line of men. 

“Of course, my king!” Rushing over, he fell to his knees in front of you, head pressing into the coarse dirt to mutter his thanks in abundance. 

“I should be thanking you for stepping away from the men who circled me. When you did so, I could finally breathe. It gave me enough air to scream.”

“Yes, I-I– thank you! I’m so sorry that I did not do more–I didn’t know-”

“You did enough to spare your life.” Raising your foot, you placed the tip of your shoe under his chin and lifted his head from the dirt. “You can rise from your knees now, soldier, and look at me if you’d like.” 

He pushed to his feet, but kept his gaze averted. “I’ve looked upon you enough today.”

“Do you have a family?”

Nervously, he nodded his head, licking his dry lips. “Yes, my queen. A wife and three children.”

“Excellent! I would like to invite them to the castle when the battle begins. They may seek refuge here, under the protection of our guards.”

His lips parted in surprise. “You are too kind, my queen. Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, you may return to your training. I have an execution to lead. It’s my first one, kind of excited.” A white cast covered his face as he nodded, quickly ushering himself away from you. Turning back to the line of men, you located the one with wandering hands easily and pointed to him. “That’s the one to save for last, my king.”

Sukuna grabbed him, tossing him into the arms of Noriyoshi, who forced the man onto his knees, readying him to watch the others die. The sickly thrum of anticipation took to your veins, slicking through your entire body like a flame on oil. When Sukuna looked at you expectantly, waiting for the next order, you could sense a bit of pride in his small smile, and that only added more fuel to this metaphorical fire inside you. 

“How much blood pumps through that femoral artery you love so much, Sukuna?”

He hummed, pleasantly satisfied with the question. “Quite a bit. Would you like to see?”

“Please.”

Without further hesitation, Sukuna pushed the first man onto the ground, which seemed to be the signal for him to begin begging for his life, but it would do nothing to stop his death. Sukuna stepped onto his right hip, crushing the bone with a gut-wrenching snap. His screams of agony had your fingers curling into the cushion of the kline below you, writhing in twisted anticipation for what’s to come. 

Sukuna didn’t remove his foot from the shattered hip as he bent down to grab onto the opposite leg. Then slowly, he began pulling at the limb, listening for the bones and joints to disconnect and the snapping of ligaments before he quickly ripped the limb off completely, tossing it aside with ease. Thick streams of red blood pumped out of the artery, mimicking the pulse of his rushing heartbeat. A raspy chuckle came from Sukuna as he grabbed the man by his neck, raising him from the ground to watch the blood pour from his missing limb.

Humming, you tilted your head to the side when he presented the body to you, inspecting it before simpering, “I expected more of a blood explosion.”

“A blood explosion, hm?” He nodded to himself and discarded the corpse by tossing it away. “Allow me to try again.”

The next man in line screamed and begged just as the first, but his death came a lot quicker. Sukuna pushed the man onto the ground like the previous one and stepped on him for leverage. Instead of ripping off a leg, he grabbed the man by his hips and ripped his body in half. This time, blood sprayed across the field, coating everything from the grass to the men in line, and of course, Sukuna. Blood even managed to splatter the front of you. 

Throwing the lower half of the body with the other mangled body parts, he turned back to you. “Better?”

“Much.” Looking to the next man, you gave out another order. “I think I’d like to know what a hideless mortal looks like. Skin him for me.”

“Very brutal, my queen,” he praised, eyes glimmering with mirth as he followed your command, tearing the skin from the mortal’s body with terrifying ease. The next order from you made him even happier, maybe even eager to display his brutish capabilities. 

“How easily can you crush a skull with that maw on your stomach?” And the answer to that question: very easily.

With the last one, you asked for something that Sukuna had shown you before. However, you wanted to see if it still churned your stomach.

 “Rip out his throat.”

Just like two years ago, he tore the throat from one of the guards who disrespected me, only this time, you felt nothing. No sickness, no guilt, no churning of the stomach–you truly felt nothing. And that reminded you of how critical you were of Sukuna that night, wondering how he could look death in the face so closely, and still be emotionless. Yet here you were, just the same as him. That should have been a petrifying thought, but you sought comfort in it; you liked it.

Exhausting the line of men, turning them all into tattered, bloody corpses, only the last one remained, and this was the one you were most excited for. Never had you been wronged and then given the opportunity to seek violent retribution. But with Sukuna, he was giving you that option. 

You pushed yourself up from the kline, much to Sukuna’s dismay, but he didn’t try to force you back down. Instead, he only sighed before motioning Noriyoshi over with the last man. Like before, he was forced onto his knees, this time in front of you. But rather than being broken after watching his comrades be torn apart, he seemed… angry. 

What a pity…

“Enjoy the show?” you asked, crouching down in front of him. Just as you thought he might, he broke the rules, staring you right in the eye. You couldn’t help but find his blatant disrespect a bit comical as you looked down, toying with a piece of bloody grass, giggling, “I’ll take that as a no.”

“If you’re gonna kill me, begin already,” he spat at you, using what courage he had left to feign bravery, but you could see the tremble in his body, and you could hear the shake in his voice. 

“As you wish.” Looking up at Sukuna, you said, “I want his hands.”

No questions asked, Sukuna pulled a knife from his armored belt, and the sound of sharp metal sliced through the air, making the mortal squirm. 

“My hands?! That’s nothing!”

“That’s where I’m choosing to begin. You didn’t believe your death would be quick, did you?” 

He swallowed back bile, getting paler by the second. “...crazy fucking woman.”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot that it was you who called me a non compos bitch. That was before you forced me onto the ground, remember? Right after that, I told you I was looking for my husband. I asked you to move away from me, but you kept touching me because clearly, I was insane, and free pussy is free pussy, right?” You tossed those words back in his face, watching him lose even more of himself to his rising panic. “You have a wife at home waiting on you, too, but it’s been so long that you don’t even know what she feels like anymore. And guess what? You’ll never know what she feels like ever again since I’m taking your hands.”

“I wouldn’t get to feel her anyway, you’re gonna kill me. So take my hands, it doesn’t matter.”

“I wonder if you’ll come to regret that later when you see her enter Tartarus right behind you.”

With that, his face fell into utter dismay. “N-No, my queen–my kids need someone, my wife did nothing wrong!”

“She did when she decided to marry you. What a shame.” You motioned for Sukuna to continue, which he did, slicing the man’s hands off, tossing them to the dirt beside you. Without breaking eye contact, you reached for one of his hands, presenting it to him on your open palm. Through his tears, he looked at it as incomprehensible babble spilled from his mouth. 

“Eat it.”

That order had his mouth sealing shut. 

The air around you all went cold and absolutely silent. Even Sukuna seemed shocked by your command, and probably even more with the emotionless inflection in your voice; you knew you were. 

You held it in your fist, placing his pointer finger to his mouth. “Eat it,” you repeated, tracing the fingertip over his sealed lips. Violently, he began shaking his head as snot and tears streamed down his face. “If I have to force you, I’ll make sure your children follow your wife into Tartarus. And I’ll watch as you try to explain why it is that they had to die. All because you can’t man up and eat a fucking finger.”

A ragged whine tore from his throat. “M-My queen, please-”

“You’re lucky I had your hands chopped from your body before I asked you to take a bite– don’t tell me you’re asking for more assistance.” Still, he didn’t make a move to eat it, opting to tremble instead. You held your other hand out to Sukuna. “Give me the knife.”

And for the first time since you’d started, he hesitated, but only for a second before complying. As soon as you had the handle in your grasp, you began sawing away at the man’s pointer finger, holding it up so he could watch. When it was severed completely, you stabbed the knife into the ground and lunged forward with your hand gripping the man’s jaw. He tried his best to fight against you, but with no hands to use, it wasn’t too difficult. 

As soon as his cold, stiff finger touched his tongue, he recoiled, pushing back against Sukuna’s shins, which pissed the god off. With a swift kick to his lower back, the wind was knocked out of him, which allowed you to slide the finger directly into his mouth and force his jaw closed after. 

Now, with a clear view of your hand gripping his mouth, you noticed the jet black veins on the back of your hand, pumping thick, dark blood through your body, much like they did when you and Sukuna were confined to your room for that week. The sight was sobering– sobering enough to make you question what exactly you were doing.

You remembered what Sukuna had said then.

“...Perhaps she has more influence on you than we thought…”

This isn’t you…

Right?

“Swallow it,” you whispered, leaning in closer, staring directly into his terrified eyes. Your hand trailed down to his neck, fingers landing right on his pulse that was thumping at an insane pace. “Now, you insufferable swine.” 

And then he did, you even felt it slide down his throat. The feeling made you laugh, and as you laughed so hard that tears pricked your eyes, you squeezed his throat so tightly until his face turned a dark shade of red. You searched his eyes as the capillaries in them burst from the pressure. Still, you leaned in, desperate to see the life leave his body; you were nearly frothing at the mouth for it.

Then, all too soon, you heard a certain fleshy squelch before a warmth started pooling onto your chiton that covered your lap. Looking down, you saw Sukuna’s bloodied hand holding this man’s heart seconds before he dragged it back through his chest, removing the pumping organ from the hole in his back. Just like that, the man was dead, and so was your will to keep torturing him. 

Your fingers loosened from around his neck as you pushed away from him, the realization of what exactly you just did setting in, but it didn’t scare you as much as you thought it might. You didn’t even feel disgusted, only confused. 

“Why did I do that?” you asked Sukuna as he tossed the corpse away into a growing pile of them. “Thank you… for doing that. I-I would’ve kept going until he died. I was just… so angry and sad, but at the same time I felt so empty.”

Offering you his hand, he helped you to your feet. “And how do you feel now?”

“Sticky,” you answered, flexing your sweaty hands that were stained with a little bit of blood, though not the blood of someone you killed. Technically, by Sukuna’s logic, your hands were still clean.

Which also meant you were not his equal.

“Still want to send a mother and her children to Tartarus?”

Your eyes widened, a tiny giggle slipping out of you. “Gods, no! I only said that so he’d feel awful and wait for them down there. I was being petty, I’ll admit.”

“You call that petty, my queen? That was ruthless–the most sadistic and bloodthirsty display I’ve ever seen.” Your heart sank into your stomach. Did you go so far that even Sukuna was disgusted? Amidst your internal panic, you noted a faint smile curve onto his mouth. “And it was very impressive. I’ve never been more proud.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Making him eat his finger? What a magnificent torture tactic. One I’ll definitely be using in the future-”

“Oh, that? I was only messing around.” You brushed him off, blushing. “It was a mere improvisation at best.”

“That can’t be. It had to have been premeditated– and calling him insufferable and swine…” he trailed off, whistling. 

“You liked that, did you?”

“Indeed. What a perfect insult for mortal scum.”

“Gods, you praise me too much-” 

Sukuna pulled you into his arms before you could even finish your sentence and began trekking up the hill toward the sanctuary. “It was rather formidable, wasn’t it?” He hummed in agreement, brushing his cheek against yours. “Certainly with the way you were tearing them apart so captivatingly.”

Against your neck, he mumbled, “More commendations from my queen? I’m lucky and blessed.”

The next day, after another argument, you entered the training field on Sukuna’s back, while he grumbled about bringing you here and how dangerous it was for the soldiers whose eyes might catch sight of you. However, after mentioning how sore your body was after the events of yesterday, you wouldn’t be able to get around on your own. And since Hatsuyo and Unoko weren’t strong enough, you’d need Noriyoshi to carry you. 

Let’s just say the discussion didn’t last too much longer after that.

“This is ridiculous. A training field is no place for a queen. Especially a queen with a broken bone.” Still, he didn’t turn around to take you back to the shrine. Instead, he pulled out a blanket from the bag he packed for this moment just this morning. After rolling it out under a tree, gently, he sat you down and began unpacking the rest of the supplies for today. 

First, a kylix filled with various fruits, including a pomegranate that you so graciously used your abilities on to speed up the growing process, bread, cheese, and, of course, honey cake. “I wish you had accepted the stew the kitchen offered.”

You only shrugged, picking at the grapes in the dish. “I don’t like meat.”

“So you’ve said, even though I’ve watched you consume mortal flesh like it’s the tastiest thing you’ve ever had, but that’s a topic for another discussion, isn’t it?” 

You simply nodded to answer his question, not delving into that conversation like all the other times he’s wanted to talk about it. You just weren’t ready to admit that you did it, and even more, you weren’t ready to admit that you enjoyed it and craved it. 

Next, he pulled out the smaller jug of water, an empty cup, and a sachet of opium. “Watch me make the first cup so you’ll know how to make another if you need it.”

And so he showed you how to make opium tea that was perfect for your stature, rather than the strong cup he’d made for himself in the sanctuary all those weeks ago. Luckily, there was honey to be added this time. The next thing he pulled out was another small sachet, this one filled with various seeds.

“Since you’re choosing to be down here with me instead of in the garden,” he vaguely and hastily explained, “You can still be entertained with your plants.”

“Thank you.” You placed them aside as he began gathering himself to leave. He removed his cloak and himation, handing them over to you for warmth. “Wait with me while I have my tea, will you?”

And that’s how you managed to get Sukuna to sit down with you in his lap, you sipping on your tea, him resting his chin on the top of your head while he gently played with your hair, judgmental onlookers be damned. There was even the faintest purring sound vibrating in the back of his throat that you found to be so soothing. You were so caught up in the moment, you didn’t hear anyone approach until Sukuna’s purring stopped, followed by his deep, baritone voice doling out a threat.

“Mortals that approach this area of their own volition will be turned to ash.” 

Glancing up from the tea in your hands, you saw the man from yesterday frozen midstep. Briefly, his eyes caught yours before they lowered to the ground quickly, a pale cast taking over his face. 

“Not this one, my king,” you softly chided, turning to place a kiss on his jaw. “Please?”

Disgruntled, Sukuna huffed, “Fine, but make this quick.”

“Yes, thank you, my king, my queen.” He stepped toward you until Sukuna raised his hand. 

“That’s close enough to state what you’re here for.”

“Right, yes, I-I have… I have brought a gift for you, my queen-”

Sukuna swiftly interrupted him. “Unnecessary. You’re dismiss-”

You interrupted him. “He said the gift is for me, not you.”

Sukuna grunted and waved his hand, allowing the man to continue. 

“I am immensely grateful for your pardon yesterday, my queen. I only wish that I had done more to protect you.” Before Sukuna could throw out another insult, you raised your hand to cup it over his mouth when you felt his intake of air, signaling that he was about to speak. “While I cannot change my past cowardice, I hope you’ll receive this gift of apology from me.”

Venturing forward, he placed a scroll on the grass beside you.

“It could never fully make up for what I’ve done, but it’s all that I have at the moment. I do hope you’ll accept this collection of poems.”

You smiled at him and picked up the scroll to unroll. Your eyes raked over the letters scribbled down, but none of it made sense to you. Still, you curled it back up and placed it inside your bag. 

“What is your name, soldier?”

“Natsu, my queen.”

“Natsu,” you hummed over it, adding, “Thank you for this gift. It’s lovely.”

“Now, you are dismissed.” After doing what he came here for, Natsu didn’t hesitate to depart from you at Sukuna’s last order. When he was gone, you resumed relaxing against your husband’s, while he asked, “Do you know how to read?”

“I do not, but this will be a nice place to start, don’t you think? After all, I did tell you I’d practice the art of poetry.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t think you were being serious. Had I known, I could have spent time teaching you to read it.” 

You finished up your tea and placed the cup aside. 

“It’s alright. After I return from the surface, and after this war is over, you can teach me then.” The mention of your leaving for the surface brought on a thick tension between you both. “Have you heard anything from Wasuke?”

“No, but there are still two days before you leave. Let’s hope he shows up in that time.”

* * * * *

Wasuke didn’t show up in that time.

Neither did your gift.

And that was a terrifying thought as you and Sukuna stood in front of a swirling pool of greens and blues.

“And this portal will stay open for how long exactly?” Sukuna asked Kenjaku, motioning toward the portal Kenjaku opened on the wall of Sukuna’s chambers. 

“One day. After that, I’ll need a couple of days to recharge my energy. Unfortunately, there are matters on the surface I’ll be dealing with for the time being, so I’ve set these on a cycle to run in my absence.” He turned to address both of you as he went over the rules. 

“Starting tonight, this portal will close at midnight and won’t open back up until next week at midnight. When they’re open, try to limit the number of times you enter and exit, as each time you do, that eats up a bit more of my energy. With that being said, if either of you gets stuck on either side, you’ll be trapped there for a week, so make sure you’re keeping track of the time. I won’t be here to open it back up for you, nor will I be in reach for communication. Now, since these will be open for extended periods of time, I’ve changed the coordinates of the surface portal to a more obscure location to keep wandering mortals from stumbling into the underworld, so do not give away its location.”

“...okay,” you croaked, voice hoarse from the hours you’d spent crying last night.

Kenjaku’s lips fell into a flat line. “Again, I must advise against this. Over time, your heart will acclimate to the pain, but only if you keep the distance. Meeting each time will only start the healing process over-”

“Kenjaku,” Sukuna softly interrupted. “Let’s not push the limits this time.”

From behind you, the soft pitter-patter of feet entered the chambers, signaling your time for departure. Anxiety twisted in your chest, making you curl your arms around Sukuna’s arm even tighter. 

“We’re ready, my king, my queen,” Unoko announced, toting with her little Yuji, and beside her, Hatsuyo. You felt their looks of pity burning into your back.

“Did you pack the rest of the opium?” Sukuna asked them, shifting you in front of him to raise you off the ground into his arms. 

“No, you need some, don’t you?” you interjected before they could answer.

“No. You’re the one with the broken rib.”

Hatsuyo spoke up. “We packed enough for the correct doses of tea-”

“Pack the rest.” At his command, she bowed and scurried out of the room. 

“But you’ll need some to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep just fine. Don’t worry yourself about it.” He glanced back at Unoko. “Wait for her to return so you can enter the surface together.”

“Yes, my king.”

* * * * *

The shift in the atmosphere when he stepped through the portal was gut-wrenching. You had acclimated to the pressure of the underworld long ago–it had become something that you enjoyed, and the fact that you really did not want to be here only made the anxiety in your stomach churn fervently. Your arms curled tighter around his neck, wishing for some cosmic catastrophe that might stall this separation a little longer. Sukuna hadn’t even left your side yet, and you were already so close to announcing death by starvation to all mortals. At least then, there would be no battle to be fought, so bringing spring to the world could be done with Sukuna by your side. 

Your eyes were swollen and very irritated from the amount of crying you’ve done over the past day, yet they didn’t stop. You would have thought your tear supply would have been exhausted hours ago, but here you were, soaking Sukuna’s cloak, on which you were resting your cheek. 

Sticks and other forest floor clutter crunched underneath his heavy steps as he carried you out of the woods, and besides your sniffling, it was silent between you, though the air was thick and dragging with tension. 

Sukuna might not admit it as emotionally as you, but you knew this separation was painful for him, too. Maybe if he were wired the same as you, he’d cry with you. But then again, he had spent 18 years with the ache of distance, the stabbing and searing pain of not having your other half with you… gods, you really don’t know if you could do this. Outright admitting to weakness wasn’t something you would do very often, but if it meant getting you out of this, you would. You’d denounce independence entirely and become a slave to this bond.

When he stepped out of the woods and into the field before your childhood home, an inevitable, muffled cry escaped you.

You were so close already.

You weren’t ready.

“Perhaps it won’t be terrible at all. Spending time with your mother, doing what you love with your friends beside you. Yuji, too-”

“But they aren’t you,” you sniveled, “I want you beside me.”

“I know, sweetheart. I want that, too.”

“Stay, then. Let the mortals fight their own battles. They don’t deserve you anyway. Who cares if they kill themselves?”

“It’s not just about preparing them for the battle. I can’t leave the underworld for too long. Already, there is a group rebelling against the crown. Imagine what they’d all do if they realized the shrine sits empty.”

“And you can’t handle a couple of cocky mortals on your throne?”

“Mortals are not the only beings that wish to take my spot; there are deities, too.”

“So kill them. Toss them into Tartarus for their arrogance.”

“All this talk of violence is unbecoming of you,” he tutted, almost playfully.

“I am the monster you created.”

He hummed out a chuckle. “My wife is not a monster-”

“I could be, and I will if it means you can stay-”

“I can’t.”

A sniffling sob tumbled from your mouth. “I know…”

After a few more moments of silence, you heard a familiar voice call out from the distance, though with your cries, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. You didn’t even know who it was until Sukuna huffed in agitation. 

“Your mother is waiting for you.”

“What did you do to her?!” You heard her shout, earning a groan from your husband. Her voice grew louder as the distance between us diminished. “She is crying, is she hurt?!”

“I can sense her animosity for me from here,” he mumbled to you.

“I’m sorry.”

Exhaling a laugh, he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “It’s not a fault of yours.”

“I swear to the gods, Sukuna, if you-” When she was close enough, her hand smoothed against your back, but you instantly recoiled away from her touch. “You hurt her-”

“I did not-”

“Is… Is that a splint? On her torso?! You broke her bones?!”

“No, if you’d allow me to-”

“You absolute brute– you steal her from me, only to hurt her!”

“Manami-”

“You sadistic monster-”

“Stop,” you rasped, climbing higher into his grasp. “...not a monster.”

Her hand moved to attempt to soothe you again as she cooed, “What did you say-” 

You flinched away from her again. “I said he’s not a monster. Don’t… please don’t say that again.” With another attempt to placate you, she sighed out your name, but you cut her off. “You and all the other surface dwellers here are lucky my husband has more of a heart than I do, for if that weren’t the case, I’d let all of you starve-”

“You don’t mean that-”

“I’d renounce spring entirely if I could. The world could freeze over, winter could be infinite, I’d enjoy that more than parting from the underworld. I’m doing this for scum who spit on my king’s name, but only because he says it’s the right thing to do. So don’t call him a monster when that title belongs to me.”

* * * * *

“Are you sleeping?” Sukuna asked, voice quiet and smooth. 

You weren’t sleeping.

But you were too exhausted to speak; the most you could do was subtly shake your head. You should have slept, but you didn’t want to miss the last few hours that you had together. But, gods, his hand tracing up and down your bare arm, the warmth emanating from his body, and just the comforting scent of him made you want to cave into this exhaustion so badly. 

“You can sleep if you want to. I’ll wake you up before I leave-”

“...no.”

He only huffed before pulling you onto his chest, allowing you to curl up there while he lay back on the bed. 

“You know, as long as you don’t think about the bond, it can’t hurt you. You just need to keep yourself distracted, and I know once you get started working with your mother, you’ll forget all about it.”

You didn’t respond to that, making him sigh again. 

He shifted you once more, raising you higher on his torso so that your face was nestled in the crook of his neck. 

“Six months isn’t forever.”

“...feels like it is.”

“Maybe it does now, but six months is nothing when you compare it to the eternity we’ll have ahead of us.” His touch skimmed down your arm to your hand, where he grabbed it, interlocking your fingers. “We’re almost there, just a little longer, and forever will be ours.”

|| MIS M.List || >BLISTER>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: the next chapter is the interlude for this story, and it's in Sukuna's pov, yay! There's a bit of angst lined up, but I'm going to try and get it out in like two chapters because I hate writing angst.

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy

[w0rm3y]

MALEVOLENCE IN SPRING || R. SUKUNA || - XII. PROGRESS

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna, fantasy, soulmates, Ancient Greece AU

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, DDDNE, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges, a/b/o concepts (i.e. mates & one instance of what one might consider a heat, but that's all) THIS CHAPTER: explicit sexual content, S&M, vaginal penetration, creampie, blood, blood kink, biting, size difference, marking, praise, soft!sukuna again, yes, he still whimpers because I said so, literally so much fluff, they're so cute, but also violence, death, body horror, and Sukuna being cute with his giant curse pet :)

WORD COUNT: 9k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || >EXECUTION> PROGRESS; próodos; πρόοδος

The walk back into the castle after your time in the hot springs was almost depressing in a way. You wanted to stay outside just a little longer, but the sun began to set shortly after you entered, and you only had enough time to bathe before it was entirely dark. After ordering the change in our plans, Sukuna carried you back inside the castle with you on his back.

“When do you think the bees will start producing honey?” you asked, leaning over his shoulder. 

“When the goddess of spring decides to finish her job,” he teased, earning an offended gasp from you. “It’s still too cold for the bees to come out. Not to mention, there are so few flowers to pollinate in the garden; therefore, no honey. You are slacking off, little blossom.” The way that nickname rolled off his tongue was meant to be a jab, but you sort of liked it. 

“This little blossom wasn’t slacking off. She was preoccupied with being pollinated for almost a week straight.” He interrupted with a genuine bout of laughter coming from him. For a moment, you froze, stunned that you’d heard something like that from him, but then all you could feel was a sort of pride. Making Sukuna laugh felt like an accomplishment. 

“You’re right. I apologize for being presumptuous.”

“How lucky you must feel to receive the queen’s pardon.” You leaned forward and pecked his cheek. “You are forgiven.”

After taking you to your own chambers to collect Yuji, he brought you both back to the dining room, where your dinner was already laid out. While clutching the infant tightly to your chest, you slid out of Sukuna’s hold and took your usual spot. However, when Sukuna slipped to the floor in his designated seat, you felt that familiar tug to move toward him. Perhaps he felt it, too, because without even glancing at you, he patted his leg, offering his lap for you to sit on. For the next hour, Sukuna fed you–mortal food, you fed Yuji, and you talked quietly.

“Is he sleeping?” Sukuna asked, glancing over the top of your head at the snoozing infant. 

“Yes. It is rather late for him,” you answered, watching as Yuji grabbed onto your finger with his little fist. “How interesting that his hair is taking a pinkish shade just like yours.” 

Sukuna only hummed over your comment before speaking again.

“Are you tired? You’ve been awake for almost a week.”

“I’m getting there, I think.” When you leaned back against him, relishing in the warmth he was putting off, he ordered Uraume to fetch Unoko to retrieve Yuji from you. While you didn’t want to let him go just yet, you knew he’d be much better and safer in the arms of someone who’s had sufficient sleep. You sipped on what was left of your wine when the dining room doors opened. Yet, it wasn’t just Unoko who entered; Yorozu was there, too. 

The jealousy curling in your stomach didn’t hesitate to heat up. 

“A whore’s presence isn’t wanted, nor is it needed,” you hissed, handing over Yuji to Unoko so they could both leave hastily. 

With her head bowed, she nodded. “I understand, my queen, but I was hoping to ask the king something-”

“Ask your queen,” he huffed in disinterest, leaning back onto the floor as he popped an olive into his mouth. “I’m too busy.”

“B-But-”

“Wait,” he interjected, “Are you asking about your sister again?”

For a moment, she was silent before she muttered, “Yes, my king.”

“What did I tell you last time you asked?”

“That you’d… discuss the decision with the queen.”

“That’s right.” Grazing his hand up your spine, he called out to you. “My queen?”

The title brought a smile to your lips. “Yes, my king?”

“Yorozu wants to invite her sister into the castle when the war begins. They’d like to wait it out together, protected by our guards. How should we proceed with this request?”

“Hm…” You glanced Yorozu up and down, noting the deep, angry scowl on her face. “I’ll allow your sister into the castle.” Oddly enough, that scowl of hers eased up. “But she will take your place here, and you’ll return to your true home.”

Sukuna made a sound of agreement. “Then it is settled-”

“Wait! Please, wait! The castle is the most guarded area in the underworld. My home is not in good condition– you know this, Sukuna-”

She instantly deflated, sinking in on herself when she realized her mistake of not addressing her king properly.

“What did you just say?” you asked, lividity flooding your body. 

“I apologize! It’s just…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I worry for my sister’s safety. Please, allow me to bring her here. She means everything to me.”

“Does she?” Eagerly, Yorozu nodded to answer your question. “Does she mean more than your ego and arrogance? Are you able to set aside your pride?”

Her lips fell flat as she pondered it. “Yes.”

“Alright, let’s see if there’s even a speck of humility in you. Beg me. On your hands and knees.” With that order, a soft moan slipped out of Sukuna’s mouth as he thrust his hips up, grinding himself against your ass. “Like a mortal.”

“But I am not a mortal.”

“You’ll be one right now if you want me to consider inviting your sister into my home.” For a few moments, she seemed to contemplate it until she turned her nose up at the idea.

“The only mortal here is you, my queen-”

“Careful,” Sukuna warned quietly, instantly making Yorozu shut her mouth. “The queen might be the only mortal in this room, but even her status as a demi-deity far surpasses your measly immortality–deities who can die will always mean more than a whore who can live forever.”

“Still, I refuse-”

He chuckled, “No, you can’t. But I’ll allow you to decline the offer respectfully.”

A couple of tears dripped off her cheeks, hitting the floor silently. “Of course. My queen, I’ll have to respectfully decline your offer.”

A smile curled onto your mouth. “Then you’re dismissed.” She nodded and began to retreat toward the exit when you called out to her again. “Yorozu.”

Pausing, she begrudgingly turned to face you again, head still bowed. “Yes, my queen.”

“Don’t waste my time again.” With a tick in her jaw, she bowed one last time before scurrying out of the dining hall. “Why is your whore still roaming the castle halls, Sukuna?”

“Because you haven’t taken her head yet.”

Glancing over your shoulder at him, you took note of his all too calm expression. “Is that what you want me to do? Kill her?”

“It’s what I would do if I had been wronged by someone.”

“And what of the blood that will coat my hand?”

With a grin, he sat up, taking you tightly in his arms and resting his chin on your shoulder. “I suppose for Yorozu’s death, I would have to get you a new pair of gloves.”

A grin of your own spread over your mouth as you leaned back into his grasp. “I think I’d like this pair to have embroidery that matches our eyes, that way her blood won’t stain the design too horribly.”

“How fascinating. I was thinking the exact same thing,” he mused, breathy laughter brushing over your bare, bruised neck. “Consider it done.”

* * * * *

“Please?” you asked Sukuna for the nth time, grip unrelenting as you held on tightly to his back. Servants and guards even stopped as you walked through the corridor to listen to your pleas. “Pleeease-”

“Woman,” he huffed, annoyed with your constant nagging–but you were nagging for a good cause, you needed help. “I can’t-”

“You can! Heat and warmth are your whole thing, Sukuna-”

“You mean flames.”

You paused. “What?”

“My whole thing, as you so eloquently called it, is flames. Not to mention my severing abilit-” 

“Yes, yes, you can slice things, but heat and warmth come from flames, do they not?”

“While heat and warmth are the same thing, yes, you’re right. Now, what else could come from flames? Perhaps a giant fire that could burn the entire kingdom within seconds? Or worse, char all your progress in the garden.”

“I trust you not to do that.”

He chuckled at your insistence, shaking his head in disbelief. “I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but it’s not a risk I want to take.”

“Melting the snow with my own abilities is tiring. Not to mention it is taking me a long time–I want to raise the flowers before I go to the surface! Please, please, just try to melt the snow, please-”

“It is such a large area, I really don’t think I can do it without singeing your plants.” While he spoke, from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar servant timidly pacing down the corridor. “Do you really want to take-”

Placing your hand over Sukuna’s mouth, you called out, “Uraume!”

The servant came to an abrupt halt as Sukuna's shoulders slackened. 

“Yes, my queen.”

“Do you have faith in your king’s capabilities as a deity who wields flames?”

Without hesitating, they answered, “Of course.”

“See? Even Uraume trusts you.” Turning back to the former, you added, “He doesn’t think he’d be able to melt the snow in the garden.”

“Oh, then I apologize, my king. If you believe it isn’t within your capabilities, I must agree.”

Your face fell. “Uraume…”

At your despondent sigh, Sukuna hummed out a laugh and moved passed the servant. Accepting your fate, you leaned your head on his shoulder as he continued,  but you were swift in noting the different hallway he decided to take. This one was emptier, darker than the others. Instantly, you coiled your arms around his neck tighter, hooking your ankles together around his waist. 

“My king…” you trailed off, losing your breath when a wave of something metallic hit your nose. “Where are we going?”

“The hunting grounds.” 

“Why are you taking me there?” 

Had you really nagged him so much that he would subject you to his beastly fiend? Within seconds, panic laced your veins, and as he sensed it, he was quick to attempt to soothe your worries. “They won’t hurt you.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“Right, forgive me. One of the keepers mentioned a certain curse was acting a bit unusual. I’m only checking up on it.” 

The way he spoke of this brute as if he didn’t rip people apart for fun was eerie. You watched it gnaw on the heads of all those guards, you felt the warm blood spackle your face as it shredded their corpses in front of you. Unease settled in your stomach as the reminder of who your husband was began to sink in again–he made you watch that-

But Sukuna wouldn’t hurt me like that anymore, right?

The darker part of your subconscious laughed at you and your doubt.

Just last night, you were frothing at the mouth for a chance to tear Yorozu’s head from her body. Should you really be so critical of your husband when you wish to spill blood just as he does?

“You’ll be okay,” he added, giving your arms around his neck a gentle pat. “I won’t let them hurt you, I promise.”

You leaned into his neck, inhaling that familiar comforting scent, the one that reminded you that this Sukuna wouldn’t let you get hurt anymore. This Sukuna was different than the one from a few months ago.

Is he? Or…

Or have you just adapted?

“You told me to avoid the curses, didn’t you?”

“I did, and that remains true. Avoid them if you’re not with me. Despite the claims and what you’ve seen of them, they are rather docile when their hunger is satiated. But they are excellent hunters, so they can portray friendliness even when they’re starved, so that they may lure in their prey. I don’t have confidence in your ability to differentiate his disposition.”

Neither did you…

“Don’t worry, Sukuna. While trying to escape once, I came across the biggest curse on the hunting grounds. I don’t wish to face it alone ever again. It gave me nightmares for weeks after that night.”

 “It is fearsome, isn’t it?” Sukuna exhaled a small laugh. “But you know that quite well, don’t you? After watching it consume the entire shift of guards.”

“I didn’t like that.”

You came to a halt in front of a giant set of wooden doors, old and abused. Dried, oxidized blood stained the edges, grooves, and slices etched deeply in them. And these were the doors that faced inside the castle, the side that the ones who were assumed to be protected would see, probably minutes before facing their horrible, torturous death. 

You could only imagine the number of people who had exited these doors, only to never come through them again. Or even the ones who did survive, stumbling through, barely holding onto their lives as they bled out in this corridor. These doors had seen so much death; this corridor, these floors, these walls had been graced with so many ghosts.

“I know, but it was necessary. Not only to solidify your importance to the rest of the guards, but for your progress as well.”

“Progress?” you scoffed at the term. “You mean a punishment-”

“No, I mean progress. Death was something you needed to become accustomed to if you were going to be an efficient queen here. Not to be an executioner, just… I just wanted to make sure you’d be able to stomach it.” He reached for the metal plaque on the door, wrapping his fingers around the loop, ready to pull the door open. “While it came at the expense of your sanity, you’ve progressed well–you’ve made me proud.”

Your arms wrapped around him tightly as he stepped foot outside, and when the door shut behind you, the sound of it echoed through the large, dreary forest. Nothing stirred out there; it was completely still–that’s what made all the hair on the back of your neck stand up. To know it was out there, just not knowing where or when it might strike, was unnerving. While the residual fear and anxiety still permeated the air from the last victims, Sukuna didn’t seem to mind. He was entirely at ease.

“I can feel your heart beating against my back,” he muttered, seemingly irritated, but you knew better than to think he really was.

“I am nervous,” you admitted. 

He hummed over your answer before quietly adding, “These curses feed off your fear and anxiety, you know?” As if that was supposed to make you feel better! He continued, asking, “Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then calm your heart. Its pulse is invoking certain memories that I don’t need to be distracted with right now.” The crunch of the snow under his feet ate up the silence then, for only a moment, before he added, “You forgot your cloak.”

“I did not realize we’d be coming outside.”

“I apologize for not mentioning it.” 

He came to an abrupt halt and reached behind him to pry you off his back. As soon as your boots hit the snow, you felt an instant chill, but that didn’t last long. He undid the clasp of his cloak and then wrapped it around you, while your eyes honed in on the armor he appeared to be wearing underneath his himation. He didn’t notice your stare as he fastened it under your chin, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. 

“While I think all of my cloaks would be too big on you, it appears my outdoor cloak is almost unwearable.” As soon as he let go of it, the cloak slid off your shoulders, pooling around your feet in a thick ring of fabric. Glancing down at it, he hummed in thought. “You’d think since you were made for me that we’d be similar in stature.”

“What are you wearing?” you asked, finally able to draw your eyes away from… the tantalizing under armor. Taking note of your stare, his eyes flicked down to his attire.

“I always wear this when I come outside. It holds my weapons.”

“And by weapons… you mean your muscles?”

A furrow formed between his brows. “No. I mean my weapons.” 

To prove his point, he slipped off his himation and wrapped it around your shoulders before explaining… whatever it was he needed to explain, for you could not take your eyes off his body, and you weren't really listening to a word he said. The armor in question was a strappy harness of sorts that was secured tightly to his chest. On his arms, you realized those to be the armguards he had modified so that you could walk beside him at the last hearing. Then, around his hips, was a belt with various compartments and buckles that you were almost certain were used to hold various things. And… he wore bottoms, much like the ones Satoru wore.

“...those go here, and then-” You zoned back into his explanation just in time for him to turn around, showing you the very lewd image of his back. Of course, it wasn’t meant to be arousing, you’re sure, but… you couldn’t help yourself. The two leather straps from the front of the harness crossed over his shoulder blades, holding there a long trident of sorts. “-this one is my favorite.”

Yours, too…

He pulled it from its sheath and turned to face you again, holding the large tri-bladed staff out in front of him. Taking it in one hand, he used his teeth to pry his leather glove from his fingers before tracing the two middle ones over the center blade. Within seconds, it was engulfed in dark red flames.

Your eyes widened at the sight. “Impressive.”

“Indeed, it is.” With another swipe of his two fingers, the flames dissipated, and he sheathed the trident on his back again. He collected the cloak off the ground, and just before he could wrap it around himself again, you were quick to stop him.

Forcing a laugh, you added, “Allow me to wear the cloak, too. Your himation isn’t warm enough for me.” He didn’t hesitate to hand it over, no questions asked, and then pulled you into his grasp again. However, this time, you were graced with being held against his chest–his bare chest.

“Better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” You allowed your hands to wander a little, but not too much, for you didn’t want to give yourself away. 

The further you trekked into the forest, the darker it became, but it wasn’t just due to the thickening of the trees; it was the air around you, too. 

“How do you know where it is? Do you keep it chained up?”

“No, it wanders freely at all times.”

“Oh, that’s… wonderful.” You cleared your throat, hoping to ease a bit of your apprehension. “Aren’t you afraid of it sneaking up on you?”

His red eyes flicked to you. “You think something that large can sneak up on me?” That deadpan, nonplussed attitude carved a scowl onto your face. 

“Well, is it a good hunter or not?”

“It is. But it isn’t better than me. I know exactly where it is, I can sense it.”

“So where is it?”

“Close.” He paused in his steps and tilted his head just an inch, listening to something, or listening for something– you weren’t sure. The forest was silent to you. Sukuna must’ve heard a sound because he abruptly turned to his left and began in that direction, this time with hurried steps. After a bit more walking, you finally heard something–sobbing. “And look at that. We have a perfect trail to the curse’s location.”

Lifting up from his chest, you turned and looked over your shoulder to see what he was talking about. 

A mangled man, torn in half, using the last bit of his life to crawl away. Behind him was a dark red bloody trail, melting the stark white snow. Sukuna stepped in front of him, a deep rumble of laughter emitting from him as he asked, “Out of curiosity, do you feel more fortunate to have escaped with your life? Or would you have rather had your existence ended instantly?”

The man’s bloodied hand weakly grabbed onto Sukuna’s boot. “Pl-Please…”

Sukuna clicked his tongue at the sight before bringing his hand to the back of your head, forcing your face down into his chest. Before you even had time to process what was happening, Sukuna shifted, and the sound of the man’s head being smashed open echoed through the forest. With a suctioning squelch, your husband removed his boot from the mutilated mess and scoffed, “Disgusting.”

“I thought you found blood to be captivating,” you meekly said, attempting anything that might quell the sickening twist in your stomach. 

“Blood is captivating. Lumps of brain stuck to the bottom of my boot are less so, wouldn’t you agree?”

His scent, despite the situation, calmed you. “I suppose I can’t form an opinion on the matter, I’ve never had… lumps of brain stuck to my boot.”

“It’s a pain to clean,” he groused, wiping his boot off in the snow. “Alright. It suffices.” And with that, he began following the bloody trail the runaway snack left behind. 

The closer he got to the beast, the more intense that metallic scent in the air became, until it was taken over by a pungent, rotting smell. Vivid memories of the time when Sukuna brought this very curse into the throne room resurfaced again, reminding you of how sick you felt in that moment–the moment when you realized death and your husband went hand in hand, and trailing behind that couple was this monstrous pet. 

But, if you were being honest with yourself, you had to admit that it was no longer just death, your husband, and the trailing curse; for now, he toted you around on his back everywhere he went. 

Weren’t you two just a little family now…

 You should hate it, you should find it all repulsive–logically, you knew that’s how any sane person would feel, but you didn’t feel as though you were sane anymore; that was the last thing Sukuna stripped you of.

And you liked it.

Coming to another halt, this time in front of a dark cave, Sukuna pulled you from his chest, placing you beside him with a gentle pat on your head. “The hearing where you received your reward, I gave you a set of rules. Do you remember them, wife?” 

‘...Don’t speak, don’t scream, don’t move–not until I say so, understand?’

“I do.”

“Excellent. Follow those rules here.” He straightened his back, rolling out his shoulders as if preparing for a fight before taking a few steps forward, adding a bit of distance between you both, which planted a certain ache in your chest. However, reaching out to him now would break a rule–you knew better than to break one of these rules. 

Sukuna raised his hand, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to his mouth before whistling sharply. It echoed through the cave and forest, quieting down into more terrifying silence, which only built the anticipation. Then you heard it: the scraping sound of massive claws on jagged stone. And to follow that, you felt that familiar rumble of its giant paws stomping into the ground.

“He can sense fear, you know,” Sukuna lilted over his shoulder. “Try to calm your heartbeat.” You wanted to scoff at him, tell him how stupid that suggestion was, but you couldn’t–you were frozen, entirely petrified. “I would not have brought you out here if I weren’t certain that I could protect you, woman.”

“Forgive me, but I’ve seen what he can do, Sukuna. That thing–it’s��”

“It’s a monster,” Sukuna finished, his teasing disposition relentless. “After this week we’ve spent together, I would have thought you’d come to like monsters. After all, you willingly spread your legs for one over and over and over again.”

“This is different.”

“Yes, you’re right. One is far more deadly than the other, and it’s not the one who is commanding your fear right now.” He glanced at you over his shoulder. “Relax.”

From the pitch black shadow of the cave came a paw, followed by another, followed by… three sneering snouts. The giant cursed hound exited the cave with sharp, bloodied teeth bared, ears pushed back to portray aggression, or perhaps… fear? 

When all three sets of eyes landed on Sukuna, its drooling jowls slackened, hiding those horrifying teeth, and while bowing its head, it collapsed onto its stomach at Sukuna’s feet. A loud whimper was emitted from the beast, almost like a cry of pain. Sukuna made a tutting sound before venturing closer, completely at ease with the brooding beast cowering in front of him. 

To see the staggering stature of your husband be outdone by anything was worrisome–you’d never seen anything living that could even compare to Sukuna’s size. Yet, compared to this curse, Sukuna looked so small. He ran his hand up the snout of the middle head, dragging it up to its folded ear, where he scratched at the scruffy fur-like material behind it.

“It has been injured,” Sukuna said, inspecting the middle head. “It’s in so much pain that he cannot even sense your presence. Stay there.”

As if you would move anyway…

Another high-pitched whine came from the curse when Sukuna moved on to look over the other two heads. Coming up empty, he trailed down the massive body, looking for anything that could explain its pain. While watching him move, from the corner of your eye, you noticed one of those giant paws splayed out in front of it twitched.

“Check its foot,” you said quietly, making Sukuna look back at you. “This front paw is twitching.” 

His boots crushed through the snow as he made his way to the front of his body again, stepping beside the paw you pointed at. Just as Sukuna placed his hand on the side of it, all three of the curse’s heads raised, a deep, rumbling growl replacing any submissive whimpers from before. However, these warning sounds did nothing to deter Sukuna, who ran his hand over the paw until the head closest to him lunged forward to snap. 

The sight caused a surge of panic to wash through you, but without even flinching, Sukuna raised his hand, muttering, “No,” as he continued to look for the injury. And for some reason, the curse remained obedient, following that order instantly, as if it couldn’t pick Sukuna up in its mouth and shred him to pieces. 

With one hand, Sukuna raised the paw from the snow to get a look at the underneath, and when he ran his hands over the rough, calloused paw pad, the curse lunged again, this time more fiercely. Like before, Sukuna handed out a command that the three-headed hound followed. However, instead of begrudgingly relaxing back onto the ground, the furthest head caught sight of you and growled. 

Your blood ran completely cold.

That warning growl garnered the attention of the other heads, who immediately set their sights on you, mirroring the same aggressive disposition. 

“S-Sukuna,” you whispered, though it was almost silent. Sukuna didn’t hear you. 

Gripping the cloak around you, you hoped that it would be enough to shield you from its mouths. And, despite the rules Sukuna gave you, when the curse lunged toward you, you couldn’t help but scream and stumble back, landing unceremoniously on your behind. Yet, it wasn’t just your cries that echoed through the forest. The hound cried, too, and seconds later, the ground rumbled as its body collapsed. 

You forced yourself onto your feet, stumbling and slipping, but as soon as you wrangled yourself straight, you noticed Sukuna still had a hold of the curse’s foot. When the beast lunged for you, it must’ve tripped over its stuck paw. 

Unimpressed, Sukuna clicked his tongue at your panicked form. “Now, I didn’t tell you to scream, did I?”

You brushed off his jab, focusing on the writhing giant, pushing against Sukuna’s grip, but he didn’t let go. The curse growled and snapped in your direction, but it didn’t matter; Sukuna wasn’t letting it go anywhere. 

“That thing wanted to eat me!” you exclaimed through ragged breaths. 

“Yes, but look at that, it didn’t.” With a roll of his eyes, he looked back to his friend, muttering another command, “Quiet.” And the hound did just that. “He only looks dangerous when he’s not by me, don’t you think?” he mused, moving the paw again to inspect the underneath. 

“Looks can be deceiving, Sukuna!”

He snickered, “That’s true.” 

Releasing his hold on the paw, he stepped back, allowing the curse to gather itself to its feet. Still, its eyes were trained on you, and when it had the chance, it jumped toward you. Yet it didn’t get far; Sukuna grabbed it by the skin on the side of the neck and forced it back down. 

“Heel.” Like always, the hound listened. When Sukuna held out his hand next, the curse eyed it before huffing and raised its paw to slam down on its owner’s palm. The force of it didn’t jostle Sukuna at all; he caught it with ease. “It's got another splinter.”

“A splinter?” you breathed in disbelief. “This monster is down… because of a splinter?”

“Do you like having a splinter?” he countered, tutting at you disapprovingly. 

“No, but I am human-”

“And he is only a curse.” 

Locating the injury point, Sukuna mumbled his apologies to his pet before yanking out the large splinter, making curse whimper in pain again. “I’m sorry,” he cooed, soothing the area over with his hand. As he did so, three giant tongues lapped over his hand, desperate to lick the wound clean, which Sukuna let them do after releasing his grip on the paw. Brushing his hands off in the snow, Sukuna stepped back toward you. “Poor thing.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, finding the whole situation a bit incredulous–he was sympathizing with a monster… who did look rather canine while he licked his wounds.

Maybe it eats flesh, but that’s just what it does. It’s not like it can help it; this is how it was born, it’s just an animal. Do you blame wolves for feasting on rabbits? Or even yourself for indulging in livestock? Of course not, it’s the way things work. Maybe it’s just misunderstood, much like its owner…

Unable to help yourself, you reached over and grabbed onto Sukuna’s hand, pulling his attention away from the curse. The contrast in temperature almost burned you, but it was a warmth you found yourself craving all the time. 

“Cold?” he asked, glancing down at you. 

“A little.”

“Then let’s go back.” Without hesitating, he scooped you up into his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. “And I suppose since you faced your anxieties head-on today, I can at least try to melt a bit of the snow in your garden.”

You gasped, leaning back to see his face. “Really?!”

“It’s only fair. But we will start in a small area to test it out. If it doesn’t work, then-”

You pressed your lips to his quickly before parting. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll thank you for trying.”

“I hope you’re here to tell me Wasuke will deliver her gift before the mortal soldiers arrive,” Sukuna spoke quietly in an attempt not to stir you from your sleep. However, the second you felt him shift away from your touch tonight, you’d woken up. He now stood at the door, lowly speaking to Kenjaku about your gift, the one Wasuke was supposed to bring you before you left for the surface. 

“Unfortunately, Sukuna-”

“Don’t.” It was a quick, curt command, but it held a hint of exasperation. 

“I couldn’t get a hold of him. Not even Mei Mei knows of his whereabouts-”

“Did you ask Jin? He has been plotting a war against Wasuke for years now, surely he knows where-”

“He does not.”

The two fell into a deep bout of silence, but it held the words that neither of them wanted to say.

“Then she won’t go. Let’s see how long my brother stays hiding when his mortals begin to starve to death.”

“That isn’t the way to go about this, Sukuna, and you know it.”

“It’s his mortals, or it’s my wife, Kenjaku, and let me tell you, I couldn’t give two shits about his mortals. Wasuke knows now is the time to deliver–he promised me two years ago, and he just disappears? I hope he does not think I’d choose the option that supports his worthless and meager surface dwellers instead of her well-being. I stopped being a selfless god long ago, and I owe nothing to those mortals of his– let them starve-”

“Sukuna-”

“She won’t survive it, and you know that.”

“Give her some credit-”

“No. I won’t. She’s proven that she’s incapable of that sort of pain six times already.” Kenjaku fell silent, probably because he knew Sukuna’s words to be true. 

“I’ll tell Manami we’re delaying her entrance for another week. Perhaps Wasuke will magically appear in that time. While we wait, I’ll see if there’s a way I can keep a portal open for longer than a few hours-”

Sukuna let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you-”

“But I’m not making you any promises. That sort of magic is tiring and will quickly exhaust my capabilities. If I cannot do it-”

“Then I will thank you for trying.”

A faint smile curled onto your mouth with that parting phrase, for it had been the same one you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when he attempted to melt the snow in the garden.

* * * * *

“A surprise?” you asked, feeling rather suspicious at his seemingly excited disposition. Since when does the god of the dead get excited over gift-giving? 

“A surprise,” he stated, latching onto your hand abruptly, almost too roughly. A frown marred your face as you glanced up at him, taking note of the tension in his face. He seemed… nervous, you think.

Briefly, you wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation he had with Kenjaku just last night. Was the anticipation of your departure getting to him, too? While it might’ve been stupid of you, you brushed that idea off, deciding that you would much rather relish in his good mood, even if it was forced. 

“What’s this surprise for?”

“For being my wife.” You eyed him for a moment before he picked you up in his arms and carried you toward the garden doors. “Don’t be cynical.”

“It’s a shock, that’s all. Usually, your gifts come out of nowhere, nor are you so happy about handing them over.” 

He only hummed over your response and pushed open the doors to the garden. Outside, the morning air was crisp and refreshing. No longer was it so cold that it would steal away your breath, and there wasn’t snow blanketing the ground anymore–Sukuna had managed to melt it all. For a week, it was a giant puddle of mud, but with the help of the sun, it was perfect for gardening now.

 The groundskeeper and other servants dropped their heads into a low bow as Sukuna trudged through the garden, making sure to stay on the path after hearing you complain about it a few times. Eventually, you came to a stop in a more secluded part of the garden, where he then steadied you on your feet. 

“Do you know what today is?”

Truthfully, you didn’t have any grasp on the concept of time here. You knew days would pass, but that was it.

“I do not.”

“Didn’t think so.” With his hand on your lower back, he guided you forward onto the landing of grass. It was then that you noticed a little blanket splayed out, and on that blanket, a covered tray of something. “As you know, the seasons were entirely out of order these past two years. Winter ended before it was supposed to, meaning spring came early.”

“Okay?”

“Usually, springtide signifies your birthday, right?” He forced you down onto the blanket. 

“Yes.”

“And if the seasons weren’t out of order, today would be the first day of spring.” As he explained, he lowered himself onto the blanket beside you. “Meaning today is your actual birthday.” 

A fluttering sensation overtook your heart at his conclusion. 

He… he put this together for you?

For your birthday?

A date of yours that he chose to remember?

You couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, not even to say your thanks, though he didn’t seem to mind. Raising his hands, he unclasped his cloak and allowed it to slide off his shoulders before reaching forward to collect the lid from the tray. What lay inside truly shocked you. Not only was there a slab of what you assumed to be glistening honey cake, but there was a certain sprig of flowers that you hadn’t seen in years. 

“Sukuna…” Reaching forward, you picked up the flower with a delicate touch, careful not to bend the stem with your excitement. It was your favorite: Lamprocapnos, the bleeding heart flower. The one you used to grow in your childhood garden, and the one you told him about all those weeks ago. “How did you find this?”

“When you mentioned it to me, I had Uraume seek out a traveling merchant, who was able to barter around on the surface until he found someone who had one. But that isn’t all-” He reached into one of the compartments on his armored belt and pulled out a small, burlap sachet. “The person was willing to trade some of the seeds, too.”

Your eyes widened. “I can’t believe someone was really willing to give them up. They’re so hard to come by.”

“Yes, most people are willing to trade anything if you threaten them with my name. I gave the merchant my consent to do so. Sent him to the surface with a signed letter, promising death if they didn’t comply.”

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be upset with him. You were too excited about the seeds. 

“And the honey for the cake?”

“Unoko told me there was a peddlers' market in the nearby village. She wanted to get a few things for Yuji and asked if she could take some cured olives to trade. I agreed and asked if she’d look for honey while she was down there.”

You swallowed thickly and set aside your gifts to clamber onto his lap to offer a hug. As always, he reciprocated the gesture. “That is so thoughtful, Sukuna. Thank you.” Your lips found the side of his neck then, making him shakily breathe out his next words. 

“You’re welcome.”

There was something about these gifts that went straight between your legs. “Will you allow me to reciprocate the thoughtfulness?” Your hand moved between your bodies, cupping his growing bulge in your palm.

He exhaled a laugh. “In the garden?”

“Why not? You laid a blanket out and everything.”

“Well, that wasn’t my intention when rolling it out, but I have to commend myself for doing so.”

“Let me commend you.”

With another laugh, he began trailing his hands over your body, never once pushing you away from his neck. “Alright. I suppose I’ll let you, but we’re doing it my way.” 

He moved his hands down to your thighs, where he tugged on your dress, bunching it up around your hips. Just as quickly, he pulled himself out of his own garments and guided you forward. No preparation was needed this time; you took all of him at once, making both of you tense at the feeling.

It was something you don’t think you could ever grow tired of, the feeling of being so completely full. Even without a release, just being this close, being this connected, felt perfect. 

You lifted yourself onto your knees, inching off his cock just a bit before taking him again. There was a slight stretch, not just from his width, but his length, too, prodding into your end, stretching the area there, yet it wasn’t painful. His hand clamping down on your hips stalled your second time trying to rise.

“It may be your birthday, but we agreed to do this my way, didn’t we?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, already feeling rather breathless, and all from a couple of seconds. “Forgive me for rushing.”

“Forgiveness is yours.” He brought his lips to yours, and at the same time, guided you forward and back on his length in a grind that was paced leisurely and languid. “I want you to do it like this.” His command made you confused. 

After that week of constant sex with this god, you came to know that this slow movement was not enough to make him finish. This was a pace that only you seemed to enjoy.

“This won’t make you cum.”

Smirking, he asked, “Who said I needed to? Maybe I just want to see my wife on top of me.” He leaned back, propping himself up on one hand, while the other moved the tray of honey cake closer to his reach. “And maybe I just want to feed her this cake while she uses me to make herself cum.” Tearing a small piece off, he brought it to your lips, which instantly parted to take the sweetened substance on your tongue. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, collecting the small drop of honey that dripped from the cake, before he brought it to his mouth. “Very sweet.”

Your brows furrowed as a round of butterflies paraded through your lower stomach from watching that action. It was an intense feeling that brought your grinding to a halt. Forcefully, you swallowed the small bite he’d given you, savoring the honeyed flavor. 

“Do you like it?” 

A warmth overtook your cheeks as you meekly nodded. “It’s good.”

“It is,” he agreed, coaxing you with his hand on your waist. “Keep moving your hips for me, sweetheart.”

A faltering moan tumbled out of your mouth with that new endearing term as you complied with his order, shifting your body, rolling your hips against his. Your clit dragged against his lower abdomen in heavy, slow strokes, grinding just the way he told you to.

Another bite-sized piece of the cake was presented to you between his pointer finger and thumb, which you greedily took into your mouth, making sure to suck the residual sweetness from his fingers, earning you a deep-seated groan. Sloven as always, a strand of honey slipped from the cake, landing right on your chiton.

“So messy,” he tutted as he reached forward and pulled the pins out of your garment, making it pool around your waist.

“What if someone sees?” you voiced your worries, ones he was swift in quelling. 

“Then I will carve out their eyes, and they’ll never see again.” As he answered, his eyes never strayed from your chest. 

Minutes passed since you began, and each time you thought you could finish, Sukuna would always have you slow down, forcing you to lose that buildup and start over. Another piece of cake was brought to your lips, and like the previous two bites, you took it without hesitation. And also like the previous two bites, this one dripped that sticky substance on you, too, only this time, it landed on your breast. 

Sukuna eyed it with a simpering grin and smeared the droplet down to your nipple, circling his thumb over the sticky nub. The viscosity of it caught on his finger, teasing the sensitive skin so delicately, drawing an airy sigh from you. 

“If you keep being so sloppy with me, my king, you’ll be forced to help me bathe.”

“Oh, and what a lamentable task that would be,” he snickered derisively. Despite your warning, he dragged his finger through the glistening amber glaze on the cake and raised it to your other nipple, coating it as he had done with the other. 

“S-Sukuna,” you scolded, though it sounded anything but stern.

“I’ll clean you up, don’t worry.” Sucking the saccharine substance from his fingers, he leaned back, admiring the newfound shine on your chest. You preened under his gaze, instinctively hastening your hips. “...such a mesmerizing sight, so… captivating.”

Arousal twisted in your lower stomach again. 

“More captivating than your gory interests?”

“Much more–my bloodlust could never compare.” Between his thumb and pointer finger, he pinched at your nipple, pulling at it softly. He chuckled as the surprised sound slipped from your mouth, then brought his fingers to your lips. Instantly, they parted to accept his pointer finger. You avidly licked away the honey. “I might consider swearing off death completely if doing so would promise me this sight whenever I ask for it.”

Sliding his finger from your mouth, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, slathering it in what honey was left before pulling your face closer to his. “How delighted you must feel to know I’d deny myself a necessity like death, all for the sake of this luxury.”

The sardonic giggle that escaped you was inevitable. “My tits covered in honey are a luxury?”

“Indeed.”

“Then I suppose if a king, who knows all kinds of luxuries, finds my body to be one, I would feel delighted.”

His mouth curled into a faint grin as he pulled you closer, smashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, savoring the taste of the sweet honey off his tongue, and he did the same, licking the substance off your bottom lip. 

“You may also feel delighted to know you’re about to make me cum, even with a pace this slow.” He spoke his words between the fervent kisses. 

“That so?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you impressed?” you coyly asked, earning you a groaning hum from him. 

“Very much so.” He parted from your mouth to bring his down to your chest, opting to lap and swirl his tongue over your nipples. You felt yourself clench around his length when his teeth sank into the sensitive bud, making him curse under his breath. “...fuck.”

“D-Do that… do that again,” you ordered, hands finding his hair to pull him closer to your chest. When he complied, your hips stuttered at the slow pace. “Fuck– harder, please-” A quiet laugh rumbled against your skin as he pulled away, giving his attention to the other sticky nub. “And what’s so funny?”

After giving you one more quick lick, he parted just enough to speak. “The fact that my wife likes to cum with my teeth deep in her flesh.” 

That playfully jeering tone of his was one that you didn’t appreciate. Fisting his hair tighter, he leaned into it, moaning. 

“Do not mock me, Sukuna. You are just as masochistic as I am.”

“Mm, I never denied that,” he purred, humming over another laugh. “I’ll mark you in a moment. Allow me to clean up my mess first.”

With that promise, you loosened your grip so that he could finish what he started, cleaning you up properly with his mouth. He did so slowly; it was almost agonizing. So badly you wanted to cum, you were aching for it, but you desperately wanted to do so with his teeth buried in your skin, for that always made it so much better. 

His dripping tongue didn’t part from your body as it teased over your skin, sliding up to your collarbones before he nipped at you. The sting was startling, making you jolt in shock. And even more jarring was his hand that skimmed up your bare back, tracing along your spine until it reached the nape of your neck. Shivers broke out over your shoulders and down your arms as he collected all of your hair in his large hand before sharply twisting it around his wrist, tilting your head back for access to your neck. 

The small nips and bites moved up until his lips were tracing over your beating pulse, a feeling that never failed to make him swell inside you. His teeth scraped over you, daring to sink right in. You braced yourself for the surefire pleasurable pain, but it didn’t come.

“I’m curious. Is it truly the pain that gets you off, or is it the promised depravity of bearing these marks that does it?”

Panting, you asked, “What do you mean?”

“These bruises you ask for are like a collar, you know,” he murmured against you. “Each one of these bites is a sign of ownership. It tells everyone you belong to me. Is that what you enjoy? Or is it only the momentary pain?” He sucked roughly on the skin, drawing the blood to the surface, creating a dark bruise. “In which way are you my little masochist?”

You swallowed thickly as you pondered his question, for the answer was one you hadn’t thought of before. However, it wasn’t hard to formulate.

“I like the pain. I like giving myself to you like this. I like the ownership.” You released a shuddering breath when he licked a sordid stripe over your rapid pulse. “But I can’t see depravity in it. This collar of bruises is one I wear with honor. I take pride in being your wife, in being your queen. I know you feel the same.”

“I do.”

“The only ones who could see depravity are the ones who could never understand. Standing beside you isn’t shameful; no one could ever make me feel that way. These marks on me are an ode of submission to you, just like the ones on your neck are an ode to me.”

Seemingly at a loss for words, Sukuna exhaled a shaky laugh. “Fuck me– your praise… fuck…” He guided you against him quickly now, instantly bringing you to that ledge, and just before you could fall over, he sank his teeth into your neck, right over your pulse. 

It burned horribly, but the pain converted into pleasure instantaneously. Your back arched, eyes rolling into your head as you came apart around him. Inside you, you felt him pulse as he met his own release, pumping you full as his overstimulated whimpers reverberated against the new, bleeding wound on your neck. Even if it was too much for him, he didn’t stop guiding you until your orgasm faded, and only then did he pull his teeth from your flesh. 

Collecting the dripping blood, he moaned at the taste. “Good gods, you are perfection in every sense of the word.” He gave the wound a parting lick before leaning back and snickered, “What stellar commendations from my queen. I feel very blessed.”

You giggled at that as he grabbed the blanket underneath you, ripping off a strip of the cloth to tie around your neck. Just as he finished the bow, he dragged you in for another quick kiss before helping you secure your chiton over your chest again. 

“Do you want to bathe? Or maybe take a nap?” 

You shook your head and rolled off of him. As you helped him back into his garments as he’d done with you, you said, “I want to stay out here. I have seeds to plant. Besides, most of your… seed already dripped back onto you, I don’t need to bathe just yet.” His nose curled up at your comparison, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he motioned for you to continue with your plan, which you did right after slipping on the gardening gloves he provided for you. 

Instantly, you lost yourself in planting your flowers like you always did. Using your abilities took concentration, so focus was necessary. There were many times when you’d become so distracted with the task that you’d forget to eat or drink, and it wasn’t until the world around you grew dark that you’d realize just how much time had gone by. 

After what felt like an hour had passed, you turned to speak to Sukuna, only to find that he wasn’t there– you were alone.

Within seconds of that startling realization, panic set in.

|| MIS M.List || >EXECUTION>

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it'll make more sense to split it up this way. I'll work on getting the next chapter out to guys by tomorrow, I promise!!

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop @kiyomimediocre @jeaniebluee @man1cslut @kawaiioperatormugpony @call-memissbrightside @maddamoiselle @raritysspouse @cutesytwt @sm0lkatz @himbosexual @blueemochii @wobblewobble822 @lilica75 @nanamjai @unknownw0css @p-playboi @plasticsheepponycollector @lazylunarlover @al3monkid @energiepie @washturtletwin @frootloopscos @tojiswifeforlife @axryl @tojis-ball-sack @brainlessprose @airandyeah @itsliaah0e @jellyaxce @loudsilence711 @lawww-liet @cherry-peach-flavored @wamuuofficial @svntsbunnie @itskannebro-blog @crunchycathy

[w0rm3y]

PAINTED CANVAS- R. SUKUNA

·✶· tw: MDNI, blood, sexually suggestive ·✶·

To Sukuna, you were art. Everything about you was some form of a creative masterpiece meant only for him to admire. 

So he gave you beautiful garments to wear, and he made sure the help kept the garden pristine so you could dance about for him, and he always kept the shojis open to let the birds' music loft into the shrine, all to hear your melodious voice.

But those weren't the only forms of art Sukuna admired from you, and those were not even near his favorite form–for that would be your body itself. 

As narcissistic as it may sound, Sukuna was a self-proclaimed artist, a godly painter of sorts. Sukuna was a god in the eyes of many, just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder–Sukuna was a painter, an artist, the creator of the most mystifying masterpieces that most would find grotesque. 

And his canvas? That would be your beautiful flesh. 

Your body was still healing from yesterday's masterpiece that your god bestowed upon you. Black and blue indents patterned your hips and waist, shaped from his fingertips, adorning your skin in splotchy patches, and you thought they looked so beautiful–Sukuna did, too.  

But Sukuna believed they looked even better speckled with droplets of crimson, so he'd spend a few hours slicing away at meaningless mortal men until he procured the most stunning shade to complement the blues and greens of your healing bruises. And he often appreciated the natural simplicity of the speckled pattern, so he'd allow their bodies to do the painting for him. Though sometimes, he couldn't help but smear just a bit over your cheek, and perhaps onto your lips if he noticed the red matched the blushing color of your face. 

“This color was made for you,” he'd say, and watch as the most beautiful smile spread over your mouth. He always thought that sight in itself might be the prettiest thing he's ever seen. 

His finishing touches on his masterpiece would be thick stripes of white, painted on your belly, your thighs, and deep inside you. Your panting breaths and muffled moans would always sound like the most saccharine commendation, and he'll always be so eager to hear them.  

And to seal it all in, it'll need a signature, which will always come as a sweet kiss pressed to your forehead.

However, these masterpieces don't last forever; they're quick to fade, and in turn, Sukuna's job as your painter is never finished, leaving you to always be his canvas. But you're happy to be his canvas, you're happy to have a purpose, and you're happy that purpose is to be admired by your husband.

a/n: idk what this is, my power went out, so I wrote this in my car on my phone while I waited for it to charge

[w0rm3y]

★ pov: moaning the wrong name during sex - not proofread

"You’ve lost your fuckin’ mind, huuh?" He drawls out in that raspy baritone that makes your cunt throb addictively around the thick shaft of his angered cock.

The veins decorating his dick bulk in a rush of aggravation at the way your lips fixed themself to utter the name of someone that isn’t the man fucking you to tears right now. He’s already got a hand clasped around your throat and he’s been fucking you from behind for a while now but after you got this audacity to moan some shit that wasn’t his name, Sukuna’s manhandling you down against the sheets roughly and repositioning.

His legs maneuver to straddle yours and he’s got you laying flat on the bed now as he drags his heavy cock out of you for a second, hissing at the slick string of filth hanging between your pussy and his leaking blushed tip.

“Dumb whore,” Sukuna heaves, big hands gripping at the fats of your ass and spreading you nice and open for him just to make sure he’s not going insane because he’s pretty sure he’s the one who just came inside you… not whoever the fuck you’d been moaning for a few seconds ago.

So as he watches this mess of cum dribble out of you in filthy globs, he smirks. For a small moment, his irritation is replaced with this genuine satisfaction. But when you let out a whine, he’s reminded why he changed positions in the first place. “Cock always has you actin’ so fuckin’ stupid. Hmph…” He chuffs, eyeing his cum gather in between the skin of your thighs. 

Then he moves one of his hands to the base of his dick, aligning himself against your twitching hole again. “And now look at her,” He scoffs and tips his head to the side—watching in awe at that rhythmic quiver of your pussy, simply aching for him to fill you once again. “Missin’ me already and I only just pulled out…” Your boyfriend only teases you further as he leans his large body forward to whisper against the shell of your ear hotly, “What a needy lil’ slut,” He whispers searingly, “S’selfish too, moaning someone else’s name while I’m fucking you.”

You angle your head just right so that you can meet his gaze and he’s so clearly annoyed, maroon eyes all dark and low on you, his lips stretched downwards into this grumpy frown, and his brows knit together slightly. “I-I didn’t mean to, ‘Kuna,” You try to plead with him with that usual glassy-eyed look and pout combo you give him but you know damn well you’d said someone else’s name on purpose just to get a reaction out of your easily aggravated boyfriend. 

He huffs. “Oh? Say that again.” And just as those words leave his hot mouth, his fat cock is nudging in between your sopping folds again with a slow push of his toned hips.

“I didn’t m-mean to,” Your voice practically dies in your throat as he slips into you in this new position—prone bone. You swear you can feel his cock stretching your walls further apart than before, his girth suddenly feeling ten times thicker and causing your lashes to flutter.

Sukuna grouses, “Word for word, girl.”

And he’s still pushing into you, his cock hot against your droopy cunt as you spaz around him. “I didn’t mean to, ‘Kuna,” With a heightened pitched that makes his heart flip in his chest, Sukuna smirks at the change in your tone.

“Mh.” He hums, easing his hips back slower than he’d been pushing them forward, “One more time.” This man is gonna be the death of you…

“I-I didn’t—hnngh..” Your sentence comes out short as he gives you one mean thrust, sharp pelvis sandwiching against the plump fat of your ass and his cock sloppily kissing the very hilt of your pussy. For a moment, you lay there with your jaw slack, fingers curling into the sheets, and another breathy excuse of a moan leaving your lips. “M-Mean to S’kuna,“ You choke out with a drop of your head into the sheets.

Your boyfriend cracks a full smile at that and your overstimulated display. With a tip of his head, he snakes a hand under your limp body and his touch finds purchase right against his cock bulging against your skin. Then he leans down to your ear again, which applies this overwhelming pressure onto both your body and where his cock is nuzzled inside you. “What was that last part?” He whispers.

Drool leaks from the corner of your parted lips and you reply with a moan, “Sukuna…”

Still right against your ear, “Again, louder this time, woman.” He instructs, dragging his hips back again before fucking you nice and tortuously slow—making you feel every single throbbing inch of his cock as he stuffs you over and over.

“Oh fuck—Sukuna-, hahh…” You babble in between his movements. You can hardly think with how full of him you feel. Even with the slightest squeeze your cunt makes around him, it only gets worse for you. He’s everywhere with a hand on your lower stomach, making sure you feel how deep he’s getting, his lips against your ear, and his hips pressed right against your ass.

He’s hardly allowing you a moment to breathe or process.

“Mhmm, what’s my name? Say it again, lemme see.” He huffs, snaking his other hand to your chin just to tip your head back. 

As your eyes land on his expression, you notice how pissed he looks, despite the slight softness in his recent words. Drooling still, eyes all wide ‘n glossy, you let out a heavy puff of air in a pathetic attempt to catch your breath. “Sukunaa,” You whine, the syllables flowing from your mouth just as smoothly as your orgasm begins to gush out around his dick.

Your boyfriend smiles, almost as if he were proud. “Uhuh, that’s it.” Then, his head tilts to the side a bit more and he leans down further just to lap up the slick mess trickling down your chin. Lips moving over your wet skin as he whispers deeply, “Who’s cock are you cummin’ all over right now?”

Sukuna takes things a step further and begins to flick two thick fingers over your clit to coax you through that abrupt orgasm of yours—adoring the desperate spasm and twitch of your body that follows his touch. 

Your jaw falls further open and your fingers claw at the bedsheet below, “Ohmygod… Y-Yours, Sukuna, yours.” You gasp, suppressing a filthy choke in your throat just before his hand shifts.

“That’s what the hell I thought. Now open that pretty mouth f’me,” Sukuna instructs, his fingertips prodding at your pouty lips. It’s slow but you part your lips open for him and even push your head forward just to take his digits into your mouth. “Uhuh, suck on ‘em juuust like that. Now you can’t say anymore stupid shit, jus’ sit there and take this dick the way you’re supposed to.”

[w0rm3y]

IJICHI'S RASH- S. GOJO

SUMMARY: Satoru is actually really good at keeping secrets... Unless, of course, it's something hilarious, told to him in confidence by his least favorite secretary, which he will then relay to you without any remorse --tags: ceo!gojo x assistant!reader, crack, ceo au, drabble, poor ijichi

This is a drabble for: |MILKING POPPIES|

“Um, Mr. Gojo…”

The minute Satoru stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby of the upper management floor, he knew things were bound to take a turn the second Ijichi approached him unprovoked. He had made it very, abundantly clear that the last person he wanted pestering him right when he walked in was Ijichi. In fact, being pestered by anyone first thing in the morning was something most other employees knew better than to do–except for you, of course. And Satoru made sure to let you know that you could pester him any time you liked.

But Satoru’s thoughts of his little assistant were put on hold as Ijichi stepped in front of him as he was on his way to his office, phone in hand, not paying attention to his surroundings. Had he not heard Ijichi’s slightly concerned greeting and watched his shoes enter his field of vision, Satoru would have bumped right into him. Slowly, he looked up from his phone, regarding the shivering secretary with a displeased sigh. 

“Yes, Ijichi?”

He let out a shaky exhale and forced a smile. “I was um… hoping I might get your opinion on something, as well as confirming some time off. Today, to be exact.” Satoru watched as a deep maroon shade colored his face and a sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead.

“That sounds like something to run by my assistant, who will then run it by me. She should be here-”

“I don’t really feel comfortable confiding in a woman about this topic. It’s a… male issue.”

Satoru blinked at him, hoping he could clarify what the fuck he was bothering his superior about, but he didn’t. His silence prompted Satoru to ask, “A male issue? You said you needed time off.”

“Right, yes, along with your opinion on the male issue, sir.”

Satoru waited for a beat, wishing he could go back in time and take the back stairwell up to this floor to avoid this whole conversation. “You know, I’m not a therapist, Ijichi. I’m your employer-”

“Yes, sir. I understand, but it’s sort of an emergency and all the articles I found online are starting to freak me out, and my brother isn’t answering his phone anymore. It’s a health concern, and I assume that you’ve been… intimate before-”

Satoru raised his hand, stopping Ijichi’s explanation instantly. “Are you trying to start a conversation about our sex lives?”

The secretary’s eyes widened and that crimson color on his cheeks deepened even more. “No! No, of course not! I just assume that you have more experience-”

“Look, I don’t know what it is you’re trying to discuss, and I’m not sure I want to know, but this seems like something Suguru would be able to help you with more than me, so-”

“He will make fun of me. I feel more comfortable asking you.”

Satoru wondered what would give Ijichi that idea, but seeing as he wasn’t going to let Satoru leave without telling him, he let out a disappointed sigh. “Fine,” he bit out, waving his hand, urging him to continue. “Go on.”

“Well, you see, I might’ve used a contaminated restroom, and I’m worried that I may have contracted an infection, or something of the sort. My brother suggested I seek medical advice from someone who specializes in sexual health, but I’m nervous and unsure of how to do that exactly, and if I could have some guidance-”

Satoru paused as Ijichi explained, and all he could think was how the world could not pry this information out of him, even on his death bed. This was something that was meant to be taken to the grave. How on earth did Satoru make Ijichi feel so comfortable that he could just admit something like this to him at seven in the morning?

“Let me get this straight. You are convinced that you have an STD from using a toilet, and your brother told you to get tested?”

Ijichi nodded firmly, still looking entirely embarrassed. “Yes, sir.”

“Right,” Satoru huffed, clicking his tongue, thinking how he should proceed with this information. “Then what the fuck are you doing telling me about it?”

“I am unsure of how to get tested.”

“And you think I am familiar with the process?” Before the secretary could start sputtering out his apology, Satoru continued, “Call your doctor and make an appointment.”

Ijichi stilled, the apology dying on his lips. “That’s it?”

“I believe so.” From the corner of his eyes, Satoru noticed a familiar woman enter the lobby, and started to make her way toward her office. He cleared his throat, turning back to Ijichi. “Is that all? I have some things to discuss with my assistant-”

Ijichi’s eyes widened in slight panic. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

Satoru raised his brows at the question. “Do you really think I would do that?”

 The shivering secretary deflated with relief. “No, I don’t.”

Your mistake–I’m definitely telling her, Satoru thought. 

“Right, well, call the doctor. I’ll let her know you’re at an appointment so she can mark it down for you.”

Ijichi forced a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

“Uh huh,” Satoru mumbled, already sliding past him, making his way toward your office. As soon as he entered, you glanced over your shoulder at him, watching as he shut the door behind him. “Good morning.”

“Morning! Can’t believe you were actually talking to Ijichi. I almost didn’t think it was you for a second,” you joked, placing all of your things out on your desk for the day. 

“I wish it wasn’t me.”

“Oh, please. He’s not that bad-”

“His brother convinced him to get tested for STD’s because he used a dirty bathroom.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at Satoru, your hand falling over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He’ll be at an appointment today, so mark that down.”

“Wait, wait, he ran that by you, and you didn’t tell him the truth?”

“Come on, do you really think I was going to tell Ijichi his brother was lying? That man is fucking hilarious–I wish I would have come up with something like that.” Your eyes were still shimmering with amusement as you scolded him for keeping the joke going. “What? It’s harmless.”

“You’re awful,” you laughed, shooing him out of your office.

[w0rm3y]

MILKING POPPIES || S. GOJO || VI. HESITATIONS

TAGS: College AU, Best Friend!Gojo x Fem!Reader, but also CEO!Gojo (but it's different), friends to lovers, fwb, smut, slow burn, angst/comfort, fluff, Gojo is a simp for reader, like a hardcore simp, I am not joking

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, suicide, drug addiction, drug overdose, drug-induced psychosis, alcohol consumption, obsession, SA, violence, physical abuse, emotional abuse, toxicity, depression, manipulation, explicit sexual content, explicit language, cheating, reader is OBLIVIOUS, everyone is making bad decisions, but it's fun THIS CHAPTER: mentions drug use/drug addiction, implied/referenced cheating, Suguru and Haibara are rage baiters fr, and Satoru is sweet with Reader as always :)

--I am not a chemist/pharmacist, nor have I studied college-level biology, so the possibility of there being inaccuracies in the chemical jargon used below is very high. I tried my best.

SUMMARY: You meet a new friend, Satoru, who helps you navigate your screwed up, toxic relationship with your boyfriend. According to him, friends always do it better, even if you're too oblivious to notice that. Little do you know, your friend isn't the perfect guy you think he is, which leads you to being a pawn in his family's fucked up game.

WORD COUNT: 6k, loosely edited, def contains at least three typos

|| Series Masterlist || HESITATIONS >FALLACIES>

Biology was fun and interesting, and it was a subject that pushed you to strive for your career in pathology to begin with. Perhaps when you graduate with the term ‘doctor’ attached to the front of your name, you’ll even find yourself giving thanks to biology for getting you through college. However, there was one class that came along with biology that you despised–biochemistry.

Your hatred for the subject stemmed from only half of its name–that being the chemistry half. It was a miserable course created solely to crush the hopes and dreams of aspiring doctors like yourself. That being said, you weren’t good at chemistry either, and maybe that’s where your hatred for it lies. For some reason, there was just something about it that you couldn’t seem to grasp fully, no matter how hard you tried.

You liked to blame it on the boredom you felt toward the subject, for it made the guilt of just barely passing another quiz just a little more bearable.

There was nothing about chemistry that spoke to you–you would never in your life reach out to study such a boring subject. At least that’s what you thought until today. 

After your dreaded biochem class, you huddled up in the library with a book that held the bane of your existence. But this time, you couldn’t brush off your boredom.

Something inside of you was pushing for you to figure out what the fuck happened last Saturday. 

And the suspected culprit of that night?

None other than C11H15NO2, or 3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine if you wanted to get fancy with it. Fortunately for you and your brain, the suspect’s name had been shortened significantly to something more sensical. It went by the aliases of MDMA, Ecstasy, Molly, E, or X–all of which were far more reasonable for the average user of this illicit substance.

But what on earth could poor and defenseless C11H15NO2 do that would ruin such a lovely night? Well, there were a couple of things–most notably, the raging hangover and bouts of sadness you were still feeling to this day. It had been two days, and you had yet to fully recover from the aftermath of it.

That’s not to say it didn’t offer a wonderful feeling, because it did. You had to give the substance some credit; the way it increased the activity of the big three neurotransmitters in your brain was fucking beautiful. Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin, all three working over time in a brain that had been severely lacking in that department–it was amazing.

But how could eleven atoms of carbon, fifteen atoms of hydrogen, and two atoms of nitrogen dioxide make you completely forget yourself? They were atoms, after all. Teeny tiny molecules that should inherently have no great effect on you, right?

Sure, but if that were the case, how did you end up here?

The guilt was eating you alive. Not just for the betrayal of your fucking boyfriend, but for the line you crossed with Satoru that no doubt terminated your friendship. There had been no contact between the two of you since he dropped you off in your freshly cleaned apartment–courtesy of him. And wasn’t that just a twisting knife in the chest?

Contact between you and Charlie had been the same, too. However, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be too stressed about it. Should you reach out to him, your guilt would only intensify until you spilled the truth to him. His rage, though it would be warranted, is not something you could bear right now. Especially, since you’ve yet to entirely recover from his previous outburst. 

But not only are you still recovering from that, you’re still recovering from the effects of coming down from the drug and the aftereffects of that kiss. Both of which have left you with so many questions and conflicting feelings. 

The loudest question out of them all was the one that scared you the most.

Why did you have to stop?

Your mind strayed back to that moment when he brushed the kiss on the fact that you both weren’t sober. While that was probably the biggest factor at play, you couldn’t help but think there was something more going on behind the scenes, maybe in your subconscious. 

Fuck, you just wanted to hit fast forward and skip this part. It only just started, and you were already exhausted. 

“Switching to pharmacology or something?” Haibara asked, appearing out of nowhere and scaring the hell out of you. “Come on. You did better on that biochem test than I did. No need to change classes.”

You looked up at your friend, who was peering over your shoulder at you. His eyes danced around your face as a look of concern morphed over his features. You knew you looked back; sleep had not been easy the past two nights. In true Haibara fashion, he didn’t hesitate to let you know it.

“You look like shit.”

Your lips fell into a flat line as he tossed his bag onto the floor, taking a seat next to you.

“Thanks, Yu. Can always count on you.”

The man leaned over to lift the book cover from the table to get a look at the title. “Psychoactive Drugs and Their Effects On The Brain? You really are switching to pharmacology, aren’t you?” he scoffed and fell back into his seat.

“No. That would be too much chemistry for me. Don’t worry, you’re not losing your human cheat sheet.”

He grinned and nudged you with his hand. “You act like I use you.”

You raised a brow. “Do you not?”

“Well, not all the time.”

“Mhm.”

“Whatever. Why are you reading about drugs anyway? Did I miss something in class?”

You sighed and closed the book, knowing there wasn’t much work you’d be able to get done in your small break now that Haibara had decided to grace you with his presence. But maybe that was a good thing, to have a distraction. 

“Just curious about hallucinogens and how they affect our ability to make appropriate decisions.”

“Uh oh. Don’t tell me you did something bad at the party.” A heat bloomed on your face at the mere mention of that night’s events. “No fucking way. What happened?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and began gathering up your stuff.

“No! No! Tell me, please!” he exclaimed, earning a very harsh shush from the librarian, a warning he didn’t heed because why would he? “Come on! I’ll die if you don’t tell me!”

“You’re impossible,” you whispered sharply, collecting your bag off the floor.

“I never ask for anything!” You snorted at his attempt to gaslight you. “Well, I’ll never ask again-!”

“Yu!” the librarian finally shouted, her voice echoing throughout the whole library. “Shut up or get out! This is a quiet space!”

A bit ironic as she shouted that scold across the room, but okay…

“How do you know my name? I’ve never been in here before.” His voice didn’t quiet down, despite her command.

“Everyone knows your name. This might be a library, but people talk. Quietly, might I add?”

Your friend cooed at the older woman, “Aww, people talk about me? Good things, I hope.”

“Yu, get out of my library before I call the dean.”

At the mention of the dean, Haibara’s eyes widened, and he bowed his head toward her. “Yes, ma’am. I apologize for the intrusion.” You rolled your eyes at his little display and grabbed onto his wrist, leading him out of the library before he could get you both in trouble. “You know, she’s the reason the younger generation doesn’t want to go to libraries anymore.”

“Is it her? Or is it you?”

He gasped, head whipping in your direction while you worked on stifling your laughter. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing, nothing. I gotta go.”

He groaned, pausing with you in front of the doors. “Fine. But you’re telling me about Saturday tomorrow.”

“Mhm, sure. Bye, Haibara!” Without waiting for another remark from him, you exited the building, destination set on the one place you had been dreading entering since Saturday night.

Limitless Enterprises Tower.

At least there was a bright side to this scenario, and that was the freedom to wear your clothing of choice. Within reason, of course. As Satoru said, that dress you wore to the party would never see the inside of the office.

That left you with a ton of different options, and in the end, you chose a knee-length pink skirt with a white knitted sweater. But your favorite part was the returning pink bow that you used to keep your hair out of your face. And the entire ensemble was almost enough to quell the bubbling anxiety in your stomach. 

The keyword being almost.

While it didn’t entirely remove your trepidation about seeing Satoru again, it gave you the push to actually enter Limitless. You kept your head down as you navigated to your office, praying to anything that was listening to allow you to arrive without running into him. 

Or anyone else, for that matter. 

As it seems, that last addition wasn’t heard by the universe, so rather than running into Satoru, it was another friendly face.

“Hey!” Shoko exclaimed excitedly and loudly enough to alert the whole floor to your arrival. 

So much for getting in undetected.

“Good Morning, Shoko. How was your weekend?” You rushed to her side, desperate to get you both out of the hallway before anyone else could join in on the conversation. Luckily for you, Shoko and you always had pleasant conversations, so she didn’t notice the way you were hurriedly ushering her into your office.

“It was good. Utahime and I went on a little weekend trip. Her family owns this cabin in the countryside, and we had it all to ourselves,” she gushed, relaxing back onto the edge of your desk. “What about you? You and Charlie do anything fun?”

You choked on your spit, but played it off with a little cough. “Oh, it was nothing too exciting. Just… relaxing at home.”

…until he broke your phone, kicked you out of your apartment, leaving you to turn to your boss, who then attended a frat party with you, where you both took drugs and ended up locking lips.

But something tells you that hearing all of that word vomit spilling out of your mouth would ruin the calm morning she was having, so as much as you wished to confide in another woman about your little predicament, Shoko was not the one. This was a topic that you would need to speak with Maki about over the phone as soon as possible. 

She hummed over your answer with a smile. “If you ever wanna borrow the cabin, spend some time with your man, just let me know. Utahime’s parents would let you stay.”

Your mouth dried. 

Spend some time with your man? The man you haven’t talked to in a couple of days? The man that you cheated on last night? You couldn’t take him to a cabin after what you’ve done.

“Hey, Sho?” a familiar voice called from the hallway, probably checking her office, which was right next door to yours, only to find it empty.

“In here!”

Seconds later, Suguru’s head popped around the corner, and when his eyes landed on you, they widened, along with a knowing grin on his face. He said your name, purring it almost. “It’s lovely to see you on this fine morning. How are you?” He took that question as his own invitation to step into your office. 

“Wonderful. And you?”

“Never better.” His grin continued to grow wider, now adding a devious glint to his eye. 

Did he know? Did Satoru really tell him?

“Anything fun happen over the weekend that you’d like to share?”

And there it was.

Satoru most definitely told him. 

“Nothing too exciting,” you bit back while your anger started to boil beneath the surface. “Maybe a little boring, I can’t really recall anything significant happening.”

“That so?” You nodded to answer his question and removed yourself from the duo, hoping to find some solace in your work. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess there really isn’t anything to discuss. Sho?” His assistant straightened to look attentive. “Can you have Ijichi reschedule my obligations? I’m taking a trip home for the upcoming holiday. I’ll be away the entire week.”

She nodded her head, already making her move toward the door. “Of course.”

Then she was gone, leaving you with someone who rivals Haibara when it comes to being nosy. And as a nosy person does, Suguru began to pry into this weekend’s events.

“Heard you met Yuta and Ino this weekend. Don’t tell me they weren’t good hosts.”

You sniffed, looking away from him. “They were fine.”

“Just fine?” He slinked into the chair across from your desk. “From the way it was described to me, it sounded like you had a really great time.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get at something, Suguru. Why don’t you just save us both the time and get to the point?”

He chuckled. “Don’t get all hostile. I’m only curious about how much fun you were really having this weekend.”

Your jaw clenched as you dropped the pen you’d been using, glaring at the arrogant man in front of you. “It’s clear that you already know what happened, so why do I have to go into detail about a-a mistake?! One that will definitely not be happening again, by the way, because I will never trust Ino again after he practically drugged me!” you gasped, taking a breath before the rant inevitably continued. “Yes, I willingly took the pill, but I didn’t know it was ecstasy, okay? I’ve never done that before, I didn’t know it would… feel like that–had I known, I would not have gone into that room with Satoru alone!”

Suguru leaned forward, frowning. “Wait a-”

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean it. I mean, I did, b-but not like that! I-I have a boyfriend, and Satoru and I are just friends. I did not mean to cross that line. But the way he was looking at me, and the drug made me feel things that were so far out of my control! He just looked so good, and it felt so good! It was-!”

In the midst of your rambling confession, you didn’t notice Suguru had walked behind your chair until he grabbed onto your hand and began guiding you out of your office. 

“It really was an accident, Suguru, I wouldn’t have done that on purpose!”

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling you down the hallway.

Why wasn’t your mouth shutting the fuck up? And you were crying, now, too! How ridiculous!

“And it’ll never happen again. Never, ever-”

“Suuure,” he mocked, stalking up to an all too familiar set of office doors. You gasped and tried to get away, but before you could, Suguru already had the doors open and was leading you inside. 

“Sugu-”

“Shush,” he jabbed at his startled friend sitting behind his desk before turning to you while he shut and locked the doors behind him. “You, sit.”

And with nothing else to do besides comply, you did. This man was technically your boss, too.

Fuck, he was your boss, and you just confessed all of that to him.

“Why is she crying?” Satoru asked his friend, motioning to you while you wiped away your tears. “What did you do?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Suguru laughed while taking a seat in the chair next to yours. He folded his hands in his lap, taking a moment to appreciate the tense atmosphere he put you in. “Do anything fun this weekend?”

Satoru’s eyes flicked to yours. “Nothing too exciting,” he settled on, returning his attention to his smug friend. 

“How interesting. Your assistant here said the same thing. I only ask out of curiosity. You see, I spoke with Yuta last night, and he informed me of the party you two attended this weekend. Said he and you both hung out all night until you disappeared. He said you went home.”

“Did he?”

A smirk twitched at the corners of Suguru’s mouth as his eyes strayed toward you. “He did.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as the harsh realization sank in. Suguru had no idea that you and Satoru did anything because Satoru never told him a single thing about Saturday night. Suguru talked to Yuta, who was definitely not in the room with you and Satoru. Which, unfortunately, means-

“Imagine my surprise when she starts giving me all the interesting details that I didn’t ask for.” Satoru’s thumb tapped against the desk, eating up the awkward silence as he waited for his friend to say the inevitable. “Had I not stopped her, I think she might’ve gone on to describe the length and girth of your fucking dick-”

You gasped loudly, pushing yourself up out of the chair. “That is not true! I would never!”

But Suguru spoke over you, “-after explaining how you looked at her, of course. Which, I can assume, is why she came onto you? That part I’m a little iffy on, it was hard to piece it all together. Her confession was all over the place. Oh, but I did manage to catch the part where you both were fucking rolling-”

“You practically forced it out of me!” you argued.

“I definitely did not. All I wanted to know was how much fun you had this weekend at a party that I wasn’t invited to. I guess in a sense, you did answer my question, but I could’ve gone without the details. As entertaining as that was, I really don’t need to know what my best friend is getting up to in the bedroom with his assistant.”

You didn’t think your face had ever felt so warm and red before. The skin would start to blister soon if you didn’t cool off. 

“You’re one to talk. Let’s bring your father’s assistant in there and see how detailed she can be when she tells us what happens between you two in your office.”

Finally, that seemed to break the cocky attitude Suguru had been harboring. “How did-”

“Your office is not soundproof. Now, go torment your own assistant. I know she enjoys it more than mine.”

He groaned but pushed himself up from the chair regardless. “Fine, fine–you’re both no fun,” Suguru grumbled, pulling the door shut behind him as he left. 

The skin on your thumb was almost torn to shreds from your horrible nail-biting habit, which has gotten worse since Saturday night. The silence was thick inside the office, and you felt like you were drowning in it. You blew out a deep breath, raking your hand through your hair and taking your seat again, just in time for Satoru to call out your name. 

“Hm?” you hummed, wiping away more tears so you’d be able to see Satoru clearly. 

“Do you… need to take some time-”

“No,” you quickly interrupted him. “No, time off is just going to leave me alone with my thoughts, and I… I can’t do that right now.”

There was only one word ringing through your head at that moment: selfish. 

Honestly, how selfish could you be? To be worried about only yourself while he’s the victim, and he’s asking if you need time? What about his own time? Why is he so calm and collected when you’ve taken the line between your friendship and ripped it to shreds? He should be angry with you-

“I understand-”

“Don’t–don’t say you understand.” 

His lips pressed into a flat line as he pushed himself out of his chair, making his way over to the leather seat beside yours. The chair dipped under his weight as he sat down.

“Look, you have every right to be angry with me-”

You gasped, once again interrupting him. “Me? Angry with you? No, that’s not–no, of course not! It’s my fault-”

“It’s not your fault.”

A fresh onslaught of tears dripped down your face. “It is, Satoru. I just ruined our friendship.” He shook his head and pulled his chair closer to yours, close enough to take your hand into his. The contact was scalding hot, instantly making you retract your hand from his with the subtle reminder that he was your friend and your boss. “I’m so sorry-”

“You didn’t ruin anything, okay?” The rest of your apology was swallowed by his admission. The corners of his mouth curved down into a frown as he leaned closer, taking your face between his two hands to wipe away the tears that seemed never-ending. “If anything, I thought you were going to say that I ruined our friendship.”

You sniffled, shaking your head. “No. Of course not, I kissed you.”

“And I kissed you back. We both… made a mistake.”

A mistake?

Why did that hurt to hear? He was right, it was most certainly a mistake, but the twisting in your chest was telling you the opposite. Your heartbeat picked up, imploring you that what happened wasn’t an error. Because if it was, why did it feel so good? If it was wrong, why did you feel this prickling sensation in your subconscious when you thought back on the kiss?

However, logic took precedence over your heart this time and firmly told you that the whole thing was a fuck up, one that you needed to fix immediately, or you’d run the risk of losing someone special–or, two special people, you should say. Charlie was a victim in this whole situation, too.

Yet it seemed your impulse to resolve that issue was placed on the back burner. Charlie was always on the back burner when you were around Satoru. For some reason, your friend just had the ability to make you forget about the shit show that was your relationship. Even in the aftermath of a mistake that directly affected your relationship with Charlie, fixing the problem between you and Satoru was at the forefront of your mind. 

“Hey,” Satoru coaxed you back into reality, sliding his hands away from your face to playfully ask, “Where’d you go?”

“You’re not mad at me?”

He bristled at your question. “There’s no reason to be mad at you. Now, stop worrying about me. I want to know about you. How are you feeling?”

Once again, tears welled in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

He cocked a brow, peering down at you without a hint of belief. “You don’t look fine.”

“You know, you’re the second person who’s insinuated that I look bad today,” you sniffled, forcing a wry laugh. “I thought my outfit was pretty cute.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “I do like the outfit. Glad to see your pink bow is back, too.” His hand moved forward to trace over the bow in your hair before he seemed to realize what he was doing and forced his hand to retract back into his lap. “But I meant that you looked tired.”

You picked at your skirt, finding it to help with your anxiety when you busied your hands with something. “Well, sleeping hasn’t been easy, and I’ve been really emotional. But I found out today that ecstasy will do that to you–I’ve been doing some research on it. Did you know it was created in Germany as an appetite suppressant?”

He chuckled, “I did not. Why are you researching it?”

You shrugged, not keen on telling him the true reason behind the sudden quest for knowledge. “I wasn’t feeling too great and wanted to know if it was the cause, and if so, what else I could expect as potential side effects. I can see why it’s suggested to only use it once every couple of months, but I can also see why it’s a little bit addictive. The feeling is nice, but the come down sucks enough that I’d rather just keep taking it, you know?”

He nodded. “Can’t argue with you. The crash is awful.”

Satoru seemed to speak from experience–that wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest, but his comment intrigued you. He took the same amount as you, yet he wasn’t showing any signs of a comedown. He looked completely normal, and he sounded normal–could it be that he used it regularly enough that he’s learned to tolerate the crash? Or could it be that he hasn’t experienced the crash because he’s taken another dose? But there was always the chance that you were just being overdramatic about your situation. 

Surely, Satoru was not taking hallucinogens while working, right? What would be the point when you’re forced to confine yourself to your office all day and get lost in paperwork? Maybe you were silly for thinking about it too hard, but you were still curious.

You once again took note of the fact that he looked normal, sounded normal, and acted normal. While you might not have been sober Saturday night, you can still remember how he acted. He was bubbly and smiley–something that normal Satoru is not. That’s not to say that Satoru doesn’t look or act happy normally, but Saturday was different.

And when he looked at you, his eyes were so bright and full of so much admiration for you, so much so that every nerve in your body was begging for you to lean forward and kiss him. So, as he looked at you now, eyes exactly like they were the night of the party, you couldn’t help the question that tumbled out of your mouth. 

“Are you still high?”

His comforting smile faltered. “What?”

Your hands moved to his face to get a better look. “Your pupils are dilated like that night.” Gently, he pried your hands away from his face. “Are you?”

He huffed, an agitated look settling on his face. “Of course, not. Why would I take a party drug and come to work?”

“I–I don’t know. You just seem to be handling it pretty well-”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time, like it was yours.” He stood from his chair and then took his leave to retreat behind his desk. 

“Something else then?”

You weren’t sure why you were prying into it so much when you could see that he was acting normal. Perhaps you were way off, but there was something that just didn’t sit right with you. Something was off, but in a completely normal way. 

He groaned your name with a huff.

“What? I’m only concerned-”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“You can trust me, you know…” you trailed off, earning another sigh from him. “Our secrets stay between each other. You know that–well, except for all the secrets Ijichi tells you that you then relay to me, but that’s besides the point.”

His lip twitched with a small grin before he said, “There is no secret.”

But you could feel the lie he was telling you, and if there was one thing you hated the most, it was liars. And that came just before your hatred for surprises and also being kept in the dark about things. 

“So, if I looked through your desk right now, the most I’ll find is some Tylenol?”

He rubbed his jaw, chuckling humorlessly. “I hate to pull this card on you, but I’m still your boss. It isn’t very appropriate for you to be this persistent with matters that don’t concern you.”

You pursed your lips, standing from your chair to inch closer to his desk. 

“As my boss, it wasn’t very appropriate for you to reach up my dress last Saturday night, but you did it anyway. For the sake of the argument, let’s drop the boss-assistant label and remember that we were friends first. I don’t like being lied to.”

His finger tapped against his jaw as he looked up at you, contemplating the situation. He took in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “If I tell you, then I get one free wish from you.”

“I’m not a genie,” you scoffed.

“I’ll keep that in mind when I cash my wish.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t even know what you want yet?”

“Nope. I’ll use it when the time is right.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Alright, but it better not be anything humiliating, got it? So help me, if you embarrass me, I’ll put in an order to change your little business cards–I know how serious you are about yours. I’ll make sure they’re vertically oriented with rounded edges.”

He stifled a chuckle. “Not the rounded edges.”

His laughter was infectious, making it hard for you to hold onto the confidence in your tone. “Don’t play with me.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll make sure my wish doesn’t embarrass you, so leave my business cards alone,” he mused, pulling out his drawer to present to you a flat, rectangular metal tin. With his thumb, he slid the silver lid off, showing you inside the container. Small grooves were carved into the metal, and inside the small grooves, a fine white powder.”

“Coke,” you surmised.”

“Mhm.” He slid the cover over the substance and stowed it away in his drawer again. 

“How… stereotypical of you,” you playfully taunted, “That should have been my first guess.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, now that you know, can we drop the subject?”

“Wait. I have questions.”

“Of course, you do,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead.”

You perched yourself on the edge of his desk before asking, “How often?”

Satoru blew out a breath. “As often as I need it.”

“Which is…?”

“I don’t know. It depends on the day. How busy and overwhelmed I get usually dictates the dose.”

“So, you only use at work?”

He paused. “I didn’t say that.”

“So, you use every day.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say that either. Is any of this really important?”

You shrugged. “I’m only curious. How long have you been using it?”

“Pass,” he scoffed, which made you frown. 

“What?”

“Pass. I don’t want to answer that one.” But with one look from you, he groaned, rubbing his face before leaning into his palm. “I used it on and off again through high school. Usually for parties and... other stuff, but it wasn’t until I turned 18 that I started using it consistently.”

His confession made your heart twist, but you’d pry into that later. “And cocaine is the only thing you’re using?”

“Currently, yes–excluding certain um… events.”

“You mean last Saturday.”

“Among other things. Let me ask you a question: is it your interest in medical studies that has you interrogating me like this, or are you secretly attending law school?”

“I’m just interested in what you do. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” He gave you a knowing glance, which made you cave. “I read over the syllabus for my courses, and in one of my classes next month, we’re going over drug use and how it affects the human body. I guess you can say I’m getting a head start.”

“How efficient,” he deadpanned.

“Thank you, sir. A compliment from a hardworking employer, such as yourself, is truly gratifying. I only strive to be as efficient as you.”

He huffed out a laugh. “If that were true, you’d be in your own office, forwarding me the important correspondence and scheduling my meetings. In other words, you’d be doing your job.”

“Is overlooking the health of my boss not in my description?” Once again, he rolled his eyes and picked up where he’d left off when Suguru barged into his office with you. “Just one more question.”

“One more,” he answered, not looking up from his work.

“Why?” you asked, trepidation prickling across your skin when you watched him go still. “Why do you use?”

After a few moments of silence, he answered. 

“Efficiency.”

* * * * *

Unknown Number: Hey Unknown Number: Can we talk?

It didn’t take much for you to figure out who sent you that message as you walked back to campus that evening. The work day at Limitless just ended, and after the hectic day that you’d had, the last thing you wanted to deal with was Charlie. Reaching out to him now, going into this whole situation without devising a plan first, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to do it. Especially with the night class, you had the rest of the evening to look forward to. So, you pocketed your phone and continued on your way, hoping the rest of the day would fly by. 

Since starting at Limitless, you have successfully managed to switch around all of your classes to fit your work schedule. The only downside was the classes that you had to take in the evening, which led well into the night, leaving you arriving home a little before eight, only to turn around and arrive at your next morning class around six. If you didn’t have loads of homework and studying to do, this schedule wouldn’t be too bad, but alas, there you were at two in the morning, glancing over your study guide for the next morning’s quiz.

That’s when you got another message, which unfortunately reminded you of the unopened one sitting in your inbox. Rather than opening that can of worms, you opted for the other. 

Toru •ᴗ•: Sorry for messaging you so late. I had to move one of my meetings to seven this morning. Think you can make it?

You were about to reply when another message from him came through. 

Toru •ᴗ•: You’re probably sleeping. Just let me know in the morning. Preferably before seven

You smiled from the faux professionalism he exuded even while texting you–as if your relationship was anywhere near professional. Despite his tone, you replied authentically.

Me: Not sleeping, but I do have a quiz in my morning class. Forge a doctor’s note for me, and I’ll be there. 

You placed your phone down and returned to studying, but just two seconds later, your phone chimed with another message. Thinking it was Satoru, you picked it up to see another message from that unknown number.

Unknown Number: Please. Unknown Number: It’s been days.

Just as you went to click on the message, ready to face the issue head-on, a new one from Satoru popped up on the screen, which quickly earned your interest more than the other one. 

Toru •ᴗ•: Why are you awake? It’s 2 am, you should be sleeping. Me: What if I said your messages woke me up?

You giggled as you hit send, waiting in the message log for his reply

Toru •ᴗ•: Did they? If so, I’m really sorry. Go back to bed.

The warm feeling in your chest was subtle, but so comforting.

Me: Kidding. I’m studying for that quiz, but I’m hoping my super cool boss can forge a doctor’s note so I can attend his meeting instead. Toru •ᴗ•: What makes you think your super cool boss has the means to forge a fucking doctor’s note? Me: Well, he’s kind of a big deal. I’m sure he can pull some strings for his favorite assistant.

Your giggling was quickly replaced with a gasp when his next message came through. 

Toru •ᴗ•: If that’s the case, I’ll get Shoko that doctor’s note asap Me: Fuck you. Ask Ijichi to take notes during your meeting. Toru •ᴗ•: Kidding. Of course, you’re my favorite assistant. No one can overlap my meetings like you can.  Me: 😞 Toru •ᴗ•: Getting your doctor’s note right now. Do you have the stomach flu or a twisted ankle? Me: I do believe it is the stomach flu. Toru •ᴗ•: I’ll have the note for you in the morning. Ten minutes early, don’t be late. This meeting is important.  Me: Sir, yes, sir 🫡 Good night, Toru

You reread his messages a couple of times, trying your hardest to figure out what this feeling was inside of your chest, but with the growing headache jabbing behind your eyes, you clicked off your phone. Since you had the promise of not having to take the quiz tomorrow morning, courtesy of your super cool boss, you shut your textbook without remorse and headed off to bed.

|| Series Masterlist || >FALLACIES>

a/n: tysm for reading, loves! Also, later today, I'm going to post a little side story drabble thingy for this story. It's sort of like an example of when Satoru tells Reader secrets about office drama involving Ijichi. You don't have to read it if you don't want to, it's not really relevant to the plot, just a funny little piece.

Okay, have a good day, lovelies! <3!

edit: I posted the drabble! You can find it here >Ijichi's Rash>

taglist is open :) @man1cslut @tetsuski @arrozyfrijoles23 @kazukuro

[w0rm3y]

i love whatever is wrong with you bc your brain creates wonders

omg hiii!!! this is the funniest but also one of the nicest compliments I've ever received, tysm!!! ily <3!!!!!