yukinemaroop

[yukinemaroop]

Lovecraftian

(Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader)

note: kinda warming up my gojo writing skills so my next fic isnt too painful to read:/ why is this guy so hard to write for

(warnings: death, yandere, op!reader, ooc gojo)

The first time it happened, he was ten years old. 

The Gojo house was bustling with servants and maids around that time. Eyes were everywhere, pinning him down with their stare, keeping him forever trapped. This was all he ever knew from a young age. He constantly needed to be monitored, stalked, and protected. The assassination attempts were too close together for the Gojo clan to rest. 

So, he sits on the steps, isolated, but never alone. He sucks on the lolipop, tasting the cherry on his tongue. It must have dyed his mouth red by now. He wonders if it looks like blood. 

The servant was one of the newer ones. Clumsy, inexperienced. He knew from just her wobbly steps that she was going to drop the vase. He doesn’t lift a finger. He doesn’t care enough to. He just waits for her to trip over. The pot slips from her grasp. 

And then the world freezes. 

Everyone is still. There’s no more sound, no more silence. The vase is kept in the air. He can no longer taste the cherry on his tongue. He has become nothing but his Eyes. 

It barely lasts five seconds. 

The chatter is back. He can taste the cherry. He can feel his arms and feet, and his skin.

The vase smashes onto the ground. 

The servants carried on as normal. The girl is berated for her clumsiness, his clan continues onward as though nothing happened. 

He sits on the steps until the cherry burns his throat, and then he tosses it away. 

He is sixteen. The second time it happens. 

He’s bigger now, stronger. He doesn’t need the strength of the Gojo anymore, not when he is Gojo. 

But when he’s with Suguru, it becomes easier to be Satoru. 

Riko and Misato splash each other in the water. He likes the smile Riko has. It’s bright, bright enough to light an entire room. It makes her look younger, like her life isn’t being stolen right in front of their eyes. 

Suguru sits next to him, quiet and thoughtful as always. He doesn’t feel the need to break it, unlike his usual urges. Satoru is content to sit right alongside of him, feeling the wind tickle the hairs on his skin. 

When he steals a peek, Suguru is staring up at the sunset. When the stars come out, they’ll have to pack it up. He knows that all too well. 

The world freezes, and he becomes his Eyes. 

He’s stuck staring at Suguru, but he strangely doesn’t mind. The secret glances mean nothing compared to this. He maps Suguru’s serene face. Pretty flowy hair, he knows is soft to the touch. 

Satoru has always been told he has beautiful blue eyes. At this moment, he feels that purple is the better color. 

He knows the world came back when Suguru blinked. 

“Did you see it, too?” He asks, his voice featherlight, the wind nearly blows it away. 

“What?” Suguru smiles. In the background, Riko cheers. 

Satoru doesn’t deflate. It doesn’t matter. He knows he has forever with him anyway. There’s no need to feel understood, not at this time. 

When Satoru is twenty-eight years old, he finally meets the person doing this to him. 

Shibuya is teeming with human bodies. He can hear and see and See the panic all around. Dozens of people have died already. 

He wishes he were faster in killing the curses, but their advantage was his downfall. 

The volcano fucker is grinning as though Satoru didn’t just massecre his comrade right in front of him. He can hear moans of transfigured humans all around him. The curse Yuji fought was laughing, getting louder and louder.  People were screaming. People were dying. 

He knew time was running out. He had to act. 

And then, he becomes nothing but his Eyes. 

He’s not as annoyed as he was the first time. He’s a little relieved, all things considered. Now, he was finally given a moment to think. Volcano-head would go down first, then he would destroy the scar-faced curse as well as Pigtails. He wanted to gut them, rip them apart limb from limb, but the transfigured humans were also something he needed to–

He sees movement. 

At first, he thinks the world has melted, but he is still his Eyes, none of the other humans have moved. Their mouths are open in prolonged horror. He can’t hear screams. He can’t even hear footsteps. 

He just sees you. 

He doesn’t expect you. He doesn’t expect someone like you. You’re normal, down to the cheap Halloween costume you wear. But he knows it’s you because of your walk. It’s slow and measured. And that easy smile you have on. He recognizes it because he’s had the smile on for a decade now. Like you’re untouchable. 

Like you have all the time in the world. 

You reach the volcano-head first. Your hand reaches out–it’s smaller than his–barely touching the curse’s skin. 

His body ripples, like he was made out of paper that was flushed down the toilet. A special-grade curse disappeared with barely a tap. 

The same thing happens to Stitches. Pigtail disappears too. It looked painful, if he wasn’t just his Eyes, he would probably hear the bones cracking as they shrunk into nothingness. 

You watched it all, barely even blinking. Unphased. 

This was the longest you’ve ever frozen time. He was counting every second, lingering on every minute because he didn’t want this to end. He wanted to watch you eviscerate them all. 

Twenty-three minutes and thirty-seven seconds pass before every curse and transfigured human is gone. You’re back in his sights, brushing away your hands.

It was just coincidence. You looked up. You looked down. You looked up again. 

You Saw him, just like he Saw you. 

You stare. He wants to open his mouth, but he is just his Eyes.

Hell is waiting for you to reach him. Hell is seeing you tilt your head, a laugh coming from your mouth, but he can’t hear it. 

You lean forward, never breaking eye-contact with him. You’re so close, he could almost reach out and touch. Your lips move. 

“You can see me.” 

It’s not a question, he knows it, you know it. The world is still. 

Your lips curve into a delighted smile. If he had a heart, it would be quickening right now. You look at him like he’s a marvel. 

A minute passes. Your awe of him fades. 

You must have realized he is just his Eyes. 

Disappointment. It’s an odd feeling. He’s never had anyone disappointed with him before. 

You stand up, brushing imaginary dirt off your skirt. You’re looking down as you’re saying this, but he catches your lip move. 

“Oh, must be too weak.” 

You never look back at him once as you walk away. 

Thirty-six minutes and fifty-two seconds later, his senses return. He hears the murmurs of the living again. 

He doesn’t care who sees him, he’s immediately gone. 

He searches everywhere for you: the tunnels, the crowd, the other humans. Once or twice, he thinks he sees you, but it’s never quite you enough. 

It takes him twenty minutes to realize he lost you. 

Ijichi finds him standing on the subway ledge. You must have killed whoever set up the veil too. 

“What?” Satoru asks. 

“Did you defeat them?” Ijichi repeats. 

It’s a stupid question. Gojo always wins. Gojo always fights. 

Until today. 

Today, he was still. Today, he watched as you wandered around the subway, killing anything you came across. 

You were inches away from him. If you had reached out, if your hands had ever so gently nicked his neck. He would have seen his death coming miles away, but he would be unable to do anything. He would’ve been helpless to stop you. He would simply stand there, waiting for you to do your horror. 

You were simply Lovecraftian. 

And Satoru was in love with it. 

“Yes.” He replies, his smile bordering on mania. “I did.” 

“Every single one.”

[yukinemaroop]

⤕ Aurora; masterlist

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

⤕ Chapters: (1) - (2) - (3) - (4) - (5) - (6) - (7) - (8) - (9) - (10) - (11) - ongoing

⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

[yukinemaroop]

if you're not obsessed with anything weird and niche please try harder. stop going outside for a while. consider getting weirder about the things you already like

[yukinemaroop]

A Place to fall 2

Alucard x fem reader, Part 1

●○●○●

After helping your village, you return to the castle, eager to reunite with Alucard, the son of Dracula. Though exhausted, your heart races with anticipation. But as you approach, confusion sets in. Strange faces camp outside the castle, and a woman with a sword holds it to your throat.

You collapse onto the cold stone floor, too drained to react. The last thing you hear before fading into darkness is that Alucard is alive, though the remnants of a fierce battle surround you.

Before you can gather your thoughts, you're surrounded by a gruff man with a broken arm, a mysterious woman who offers you food, and the woman who threatened you earlier, all sitting together in a cabin.

🪻 Again english is NOT my first language so maybe theres wrong grammar :)), domestic fluff, canon character introductions, possibly inaccurate(??), yearning Alucard, Trevor is bitchy, sweet Sypha,Reader introduction, fluff fluff and fluff

A plush pillow under your head, and a warm blanket wrapped around you.

Maybe it was just how exhausted you were because the last thing you remembered was collapsing on the hard ground and thinking, Yeah, this is fine. The floor is a bed now.

Better than waking up to the smell of dirt and rotting flesh from night creatures—

Your eyes snapped open.

You jolted upright, heart racing, suddenly realizing you were not on the forest floor. Nor were you still in that hellish place (and yes, hellish was the only way to describe it, considering the night creatures seemed to multiply every time you blinked).

The second thing you noticed? The drool on the corner of your mouth.

You wiped it away with the back of your hand, cringing.

Was it still morning? You had no idea. God, you must have slept like a log. How embarrassing.

If he saw you like this, he'd probably laugh in your face.

You looked around.

The large windows. The silk sheets. The faint scent of candles and magic. Open books are scattered over a patch of the floor.

And underneath it all—his scent.

You giggled quietly.

You were finally home.

At peace.

The only problem? He wasn’t here. And you were certain he was the one who brought you back.

You glanced down at yourself—dirt-streaked hands, scratches on your cheeks, twigs tangled in your hair.

You frowned.

Yeah. You needed a bath.Urgently.

You couldn’t help the deep, overwhelming sense of gratitude you felt for Alucard—for everything he’d given you. His shelter. His time. His unwavering patience. And most of all, the luxury of the castle.

He spoiled you rotten.

The bathwater was perfect: hot, clear, soothing—everything your tired body had been craving after days on the road. You closed your eyes and sank deeper into the warmth, letting the steam wrap around you like a cocoon. Your thoughts wandered to Alucard—his voice had turned almost lullaby-like when he spoke of the castle’s plumbing.

“It’s not magic,” he’d said once, “just science. Simple engineering. Pipes.”

But at the time, all you’d heard was the gentle rhythm of his voice, the quiet comfort tucked between his words. You hadn’t understood much of it, but you loved that it mattered to him.

In that moment, submerged in warmth and silence, you felt a fleeting sense of peace. It was so easy to forget the world outside. So easy to imagine a life that could always be like this.

You took your time choosing clothes—nothing fancy, but a far cry from the ragged things you’d worn on the road. A soft white shirt that framed your collarbones just right, and patched-together pants made from forgotten dresses scavenged from the castle closets. It wasn’t much, but when you caught your reflection, you finally saw someone who looked like you again.

You were just tying the last strands of your braid when a knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts.

Your heart leaped.

You knew who it was. It had to be Alucard. He was the only one who knew this room was sacred—a quiet sanctuary you both shared.

But the rush of excitement twisted the moment you opened the door.

You stuttered, “You have a lot to explain—”

It was supposed to sound frustrated, but it came out soft, like a confession. You were too eager, too happy to see him again.

Only... it wasn’t him.

The woman standing in front of you had fiery red hair and sapphire eyes that almost glowed. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused smile.

“Good noon,” she said, accent thick and musical. “I thought you were still sleeping downstairs.”

Your heart stumbled. Heat rushed to your cheeks.

“I—I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” you stammered, half-laughing at your own awkwardness. Her gaze lingered on you, and you resisted the urge to curl in on yourself.

She chuckled softly as if she understood. “It’s fine. I thought you were someone else too,” she said, eyes drifting curiously past you. “I was sure this was Alucard’s room, though.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

You paused. Then, without thinking, you blurted out, “You’re not wrong. This is my room too.”

She blinked. Her gaze sharpened—not with judgment, but recognition. Understanding.

You hadn’t said anything about your relationship with Alucard, but you didn’t need to. It was in the way you stood here. The way you spoke.

Her eyes softened. And you couldn’t look away.

“Are you looking for Alucard?” you asked, voice barely a whisper. Your heart pounded, hungry for any sign of him.

“No. He’s not around,” she said, still watching you. “Alucard’s been… restless since this morning.”

Restless?

“Restless? Why?”

You couldn’t stop the edge of panic in your voice.

She tilted her head, smile faint and knowing. “Just because,” she said gently. “I’m Sypha, by the way. And you must be starving. Want to join us for lunch at the cabin?”

You hesitated. Her kindness was real, but there was something underneath—curiosity, quiet and precise like she was piecing together a puzzle. You were one of the pieces.

Still, you nodded.

You walked beside Sypha to the cabin, you listened as she filled in the blanks of what you’d missed. Two days before your arrival, there had been a fierce battle outside the castle. Night creatures and vampires had attacked—not just them, but Death itself had come for them.

Sypha spoke of it calmly, with the ease of someone used to surviving chaos. But beneath the calm, you could sense the weight in her words.

“It was tough,” she said quietly. “But we managed to win.”

You said nothing for a while.

You were still trying to process the truth.

These were people who had fought—and won— against Death. That part baffles you the most.

As you stepped into the cabin, your heart sank a little.

Alucard wasn’t there.

The space was quiet—too quiet. Three people sat inside, all turning to look at you. The woman from before—the one who’d nearly killed you—was seated at the table, her green eyes unreadable. And beside her stood a broad, rugged man with a broken arm, his blue eyes locked on you, surprise flickering across his face.

Trevor. It had to be.

Sypha was already seated, her expression open and warm. She gave a small smile, her voice breaking the silence.

“Well, we could introduce ourselves while we eat,” she said gently, stepping toward the stove and ladling porridge into a bowl. “Come, sit.”

You hesitated before slipping into the seat across from her. The warm food hit you instantly, grounding you more than you expected. It was just that: warmth, quiet, and breathing. Peace.

“You’ve probably noticed,” Sypha added as she handed you the bowl, “meat’s hard to come by these days. Night creatures scare off most of them, This—” she gestured at the simple stew, “—is the best we can manage.”

You nodded, quietly grateful. It was better than roasted squirrel. And more than anything, it felt… kind.

Then the woman cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice softer than before. “For last night. We’ve been on edge.”

“I get it,” you replied. “Wasn’t exactly knocking politely.”

She offered a hand. “Greta.”

You shook it. Then the man at the end of the table raised a brow.

“I’m Trevor,” he said. “So… are you really his apprentice, or just good at sneaking into castles?”

“Trevor,” Sypha hissed, elbowing him.

You laughed. “I can explain.”

And you did.

You told them about the plague. The village. How you look for the castle with a broken ankle, and found a golden-eyed damphir man, who didn’t shut the door on you. How he took you in. Taught you. Stayed when no one else did.

You left out the blood on the floor. The sleepless nights. The soft things said in the dark.

You said you left four weeks ago to go back to Beleyrone, your village.

But you didn’t say how your hands had shaken the whole way down the path. How it nearly broke you to walk away.

Trevor leaned back in his chair. “So why come back?”

Sypha turned to him, annoyed. “Trevor—”

He held up a hand. “What? It’s a fair question.”

You didn’t answer right away. You stirred the porridge, throat tight.

How do you say I missed him in a way that doesn’t sound childish? How do you admit that no matter how far you went, your heart stayed in the halls of that castle?

You opened your mouth, but before you could speak, the cabin door creaked open.

“Because I told her to,” came a familiar voice.

You froze.

That voice. Calm, melodic, just a touch amused.

Alucard. Bright, golden, and beautiful Adrian.

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest.

He stepped into the cabin like a breeze slipping through the cracks, golden eyes meeting yours instantly. You didn’t need to turn to know it was him—his presence filled the room like gravity.

He walked toward you, and before you could say a word, his hand reached for the back of your neck, fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that nearly shattered you.

“You have a lot to explain, apprentice,” he murmured, but his smirk gave him away.

You smiled. “So do you, Alucard.”

A pause stretched between you. The world around you dimmed.

The others faded into a soft blur as he leaned closer. His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up—slowly, questioningly. His hair fell forward, framing both your faces, and for a breathless second, it felt like the world was holding its breath. You realize, he's going to kiss you

Then—

"Ahem."

Greta cleared her throat. Loudly.

You flinched back, feel your ears burning. Alucard clicked his tongue, frustrated, clearly just as annoyed at the interruption.

He missed you.

God, he missed you.

Those four weeks? Torture. Every creak of the castle reminded him of your footsteps. Every quiet night, he imagined you laughing somewhere else, in another home, with a bumpkin boy. A simple life, a safer one.

But now, here you were. Wearing something stitched from old castle dresses. Sitting in a chair he made when he couldn’t sleep. Looking at him like he was still yours.

And it hit him—you never really left.

Not in the way that mattered.

You carried him with you. And maybe, just maybe… that was enough.

The others were still watching—Trevor, skeptical. Sypha, smiling knowingly. Greta, trying not to grin.

Yeah. Whatever this was between you and Alucard?

It was definitely more than just “apprentice and master.”

“What’s that?” Trevor interrupts as he squints at what Alucard’s holding.

A fresh deer leg hangs by a rope—still red, the muscle cleanly cut, bone jutting from the top. The smell of fresh blood clings faintly to the air.

“What do you think it is, Belmont?” Alucard replies coolly, voice laced with dry annoyance.

"What is it, really?” You also ask, curious.

His expression softens the moment he turns to you.

“Deer,” he says, voice warmer now. “I caught it this morning. Gave most of it to the families outside.”

You notice the shift—how gentle he is with you compared to Trevor, who grumbles under his breath.

“I thought…” Alucard pauses, then looks away, “you’d like a proper meal.”

You nod shyly, quietly touched.

Everyone else at the table? Yeah—they groan internally. It’s painfully obvious now.

:~

The night was cold, and after everything that had happened, patrol was necessary. It was supposed to be a normal routine—Alucard lost in thought, quietly humming, snarky comments and his mind drifting to you, and Trevor rambling with his usual cocky tone—until Greta came running toward them with urgent news.

“Someone broke in?” Trevor’s tone sharpens.

Greta nods. “She said she was your apprentice.” looking at Alucard.

Before either of them can blink, a blur of red and gold sweeps past them.

Alucard is gone.

Wind rushes in his wake.

He moves through the castle like something ancient waking from a long slumber. His steps echo softly on the marble, heart pounding with something he hasn’t felt in years: anticipation.

He tunes in, listening—until he hears it.

Your heartbeat.

Faint, steady, achingly familiar.

His footsteps slow. He doesn’t rush now. He wants to savor it.

He finds you in the old sitting room, dimly lit by firelight. The velvet couch cradles your body. You’re asleep, curled in on yourself, boots still muddy, face streaked with dirt and tiny cuts.

Still beautiful.

Still alive.

He sinks quietly to the floor beside you, just to look. He lays his head on his arm, propped beside yours on the velvet couch, quietly admiring you.One hand gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. You shift slightly in your sleep, leaning into the touch.

A small, tired smile tugs at his lips.

You came back.

You’ve lost weight. Your hands are rougher. Your clothes are worn during travel. And yet, to him, you’ve never looked more radiant.

He stays like that for a long time. Watching. Make sure you’re there.

Eventually, he lifts you carefully in his arms and carries you to the shared bedroom. The castle has felt like a tomb for weeks—tonight, it feels like a home again.

He doesn’t dream of blood this time.

Not of his fathers death.

Not of Sumi or Taka’s betrayal.

Just you—curled into his chest, your breath warm against his neck, legs tangled like you never left.

His arms around you tighten slightly. He presses a kiss to your hair.

This time, he won’t let go.

♡

🪻: I'm actually gonna cry I can't BELIEVE that there are people who liked my first fic and delusions thank you all so much! 💗💗 idk if this is as good as the first one but i tried my best💗, this ones a bit long cus this was heavily inspired by Hozier's cover of Do I Wanna Know hehe..I really appreciate all the comments, likes and everything! Tysm!!

💕Tag list: @rubyninja1 @m0rg0th @aaloo07 @studiosakuras @urlocalsabito

[yukinemaroop]

A Place to Fall

Alucard x reader, Part 2

●○●○●

It had been four weeks since you left the castle, yet you couldn't forget why you sought out Alucard in the first place—to become his apprentice, to learn medicine, to save your ailing village. You had responsibilities, people who relied on you.

You promised him two weeks.

You overstayed.

Leaving had been a difficult choice. After all, you had just confessed your love to each other. And yet, you left, knowing it meant he would be alone again in that vast, somber castle... or so you thought.

TW: Im pretty much new to this and english isn't my first language so bear with with me :)) Post-season 4 Castlevania fanfic. Clingy Alucard & reader, character introductions, possibly inaccurate(??),fluff, alucard, sorceress reader, fools in love, should i make a part 2?

"This is all I can do. The rest is in your hands alone."

His voice had been steady, but you had seen the way his golden eyes softened as he handed you the leather bag. Inside, carefully wrapped, was every remedy he could prepare—enough to turn the tide against the plague that threatened your home.

Alucard’s fingers lingered against yours. As if by holding on for just a second longer, he could keep you here. As if the thought of you leaving didn’t gnaw at him, didn’t worry him to the core—

"I know," you had said, meeting his gaze.

For a long moment, the two of you simply stared at each other, words unspoken but deeply understood. Then, he sighed, a quiet thing, before breaking the silence.

"Do come back to me," he murmured. "I'm already missing you, and you haven’t even left."

The warmth of his hands enveloped yours, one shifting to cradle your jaw, his thumb tracing your cheek with a gentleness that still felt new between you. Then, he leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your eyelids.

It had left you flustered—heart pounding, cheeks burning.

"I know," you had whispered again, this time with a smile. A smile that made his cold heart melt.

_____________________________

You hadn’t planned to stay in Beleyrone for so long, but how could you leave when your people needed you? They had been relieved—grateful that their dying grace had not forgotten them. You returned with knowledge that helped them weather the plague, and for the first time in a long while, hope flickered in their weary eyes.

With Alucard’s teachings, you worked tirelessly, slowly helping the village stand on its feet again. An extra week turned into another. You had no parents, but Beleyrone had raised you, and in their time of need, you couldn’t turn away. Still, no matter how much comfort the village offered, one truth remained—you missed Adrian.

You missed him terribly.

You missed the warmth of his touch, the hesitant way he learned to love again under your care. You had healed him, not just in body but in heart, teaching him what gentle, unwavering love could be. In return, he offered you everything—his home, his trust, and most importantly, himself. And you accepted without hesitation.

Now, as the haunting towers of Dracula’s castle finally rise in the distance, relief floods your chest. You’re so close to home. Soon, you’ll be back in his arms, sharing the warmth of your bed after too many nights spent alone.

But something is wrong.

At first, it’s just an uneasy feeling in your gut. Then, you see them—people, far too many of them.

Your grip tightens on your cloak as you take in the unfamiliar sight: villagers in makeshift tents, half-built houses clustered near the castle walls, and scattered debris from the fortress itself. Signs of battle linger in the air like a ghost.

Panic claws at your throat.

What happened while you were gone?

It’s only been four weeks.

As you pass by the tents, a few people—still awake at this ungodly hour—glance at you. Some curious, some anxious, some afraid. A stranger at their doorstep, after everything they had been through.

Then you see the injuries. Some light, others fatal. The villagers were no exception to whatever disaster had taken place here.

You force yourself to look away. You can’t focus on them now.

What matters most is—

Adrian.

God, was he alright? Did he have enough blood to heal? Anxiety coils in your stomach, threatening to choke you.

You push open the heavy doors of the castle.

Torches flare to life one by one, their golden light stretching through the stone halls as if welcoming you back. You almost want to collapse right then and there—this place, despite its eerie silence, is the safest you've felt in weeks.

But now’s not the time to rest.

“…I’m home?” you call out hesitantly, voice trembling. “Alucard? Adrian?

No answer.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. The silence is suffocating.

Was he dead? No—no, that couldn’t be. Then—

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

A voice. Steady. Firm.

A woman’s voice.

You whirl around, heart hammering. A sword gleams in the dim light, pointed straight at your throat. The woman holding it has sharp green eyes that burn with warning, her brown skin glistening with sweat, her messy hair falling in loose strands around her face.

Beautiful.

And dangerous..

Soon, you'll find out that her name is Greta

She must have noticed your confusion first because she mirrored it—her sharp gaze softened slightly, her brows furrowing. But you only stared, still hidden beneath your hood, struggling to process who this woman could possibly be.

“Well?” she asked, voice edged with warning. “Do you usually just stand there and wait to be stabbed?”

It wasn’t fear that kept you silent. You were simply too tired—too drained to even recall your purpose here, your place in Alucard’s life. So you took the safest route, avoiding any answers that might lead to more questions.

Slowly, you raised your hands in surrender. “I’m Alucard’s apprentice.”

“Apprentice?” she echoed, surprise flickering across her face. Her grip on the blade loosened, but you barely noticed. Instead, you simply unclasped your cloak, letting it slip off and land onto a nearby chair. The fabric pooled as if discarded by the wind, revealing the state you were in—greasy hair, dirt-streaked clothes, boots caked in dried mud.

The night creatures weren’t kind what state your in, the fight you had to travel back to back , when there’s someone living in the night alone, it’d been an easy meal for them hence why your energy is so depleted. You cant even light a small fire even if its on your hand with magic, thats how tired you are.

“Apprentice,” you repeated, as if saying it again would make it feel true. Calling yourself his lover felt too bold, too premature. After all, nothing had been made official yet.

“You’re his apprentice?” The woman frowned. “Then why did he never mention you? What’s your name? What can you—”

“I’ll ask the questions first,” you interrupted, stepping forward. “Is he alive?”

Your voice wavered with exhaustion, with dread. Your legs felt weak—whether from the sight of the familiar red couch by the fireplace, the warmth that almost coaxed you into collapsing, or the unbearable fear that the next words you heard would shatter you completely.

Something terrible had happened here.

The great hall bore its scars—gaping holes in the walls, crumbling stone, rubble swept into untidy piles. Whatever took place in your absence… it had been disastrous.

...

"Of course, he’s alive. He’s on patrol with Trevor tonight," the woman sighs, rubbing the back of her neck.

You stop mid-step, the words taking a moment to sink in.

Alive.

The tension in your body uncoils all at once, like a thread being pulled loose. Weeks of fighting, of running, of barely surviving—all of it crashes down on you in an instant. The exhaustion you’d been holding at bay finally catches up, heavy as a landslide.

Behind you, Greta watches in silence. Talking to people isn’t exactly her strong suit—convincing them, comforting them, making things easier. That’s Sypha’s job, and Sypha is asleep.

For fuck’s sake. Why did it have to be her who woke up?

She exhales sharply, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She has no idea what to do with you, this stranger who walked in claiming to be Alucard’s apprentice. And yet, here you are, standing in his home like you belong—like you know you belong. Even her own people aren’t allowed to just wander in here. Not without his say—

Thud.

Greta’s eyes snap open just in time to see you crumble.

You don’t even try to catch yourself. Your arm barely moves, weakly shielding your head before you hit the ground. For a second, she tenses, ready to act, but then she notices the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest.

You didn’t faint.

You just… fell asleep.

Right there on the cold stone floor, like your body had been waiting for permission to shut down. And knowing he was alive—that had been permission enough.

Greta sighs, staring down at you.

Well. This part, she knows how to handle.

It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.

Guys this is a first for me lmk if you liked it cus ill definetly post a part 2 (ill also tag u soo), lmk if u have any recs on my writing🥺

[yukinemaroop]

helloooo i literally ADOREEE your writing and have read ALL of your jjk works istg!!! i was wondering if you had any recs for any series? ive been in a slump lately and i rlly wanna read some new fics but cant find any :((

oh i gotchu. all of these are NSFW (unless otherwise indicated), well written, and untragic ending (uhhh unless i remember wrong, some of these i read a long time ago) because i'm picky and a pussy.

completed

gojo satoru

convergence theory (ao3)

canon au, marriage of convenience au. tension is well written, and gojo is a little shit lke he would be in canon. beautiful and yummy characterization of him as the complex character he is.

shame on me by @starmapz

canon au. i love how gojo is written, and i love trish's writing style, lol. reader has a curse inside her, like sukuna is inside yuji, and gojo comes to take her to jjt. it's very well written the yearning >

games and matches by @lostfracturess

modern au, dad's best friend au. AHHH HE'S SOSOSO FINE IN THIS like i need him so bad. i just love reader's inner conflict and also the drama. i need dilf gojo <3

pandora's box by @c0pkiller

priest au. it's just so interesting to see them battle their impulses and what their religion has told them to do. the pining is chef's kiss, and satoru is realllyyy sweet in this one. i didn't know what to expect when i was reading it but wow it was very, very well written.

moonlight (ao3)

canon au, mating bond au. sort of omega verse but not really. the sexual tension is INSANE and it's genuinely so well written. the angst is delicious and the comfort that follows is even more delicious.

family formation by @dellalyra

found family au in canon universe. i love this one, super fluffy and well written. it's super domestic, and very comforting. i love gojo (as a father and daddy :p)

ukiyo (ao3)

secret marriage au in canon. super flufy as well baha gojo is adorbs :3

baby steps by @lemonlover1110

pregnancy au, and if i remember correctly canon au. the tea in this is crazyyy actually, and i felt the angst as gojo and reader grappled with the pregnancy. i loved the ending, it felt so rewarding <3

nanami kento

inflitration by @pseudowho

canon au, fake marriage au. i loved the pining in this. It had a lot of my favorite tropes, including forced proximity, the classic making out to avoid getting caught, and fake marriage (to overthrow a cult). also haitch writes this man beautifully so ik it was going to a banger

strangers in love by @ayyy-pee

exes to lover au, and the angst hurts really good. they make up very well by the end and i love this series a lottt. lexi writes conflicts out so beautifully, and im so in love. the end had me on my toes but i was so glad nanami pulled thru <3

your best friend's brother by @delirious-donna

modern au, best friend's brother au. the humor is done amazingly well, and their writing style is amazing. The sexual tension is actually INSANE there were times I was screaming at them to fuck because of the chemistry they had :3

toji fushiguro

unscripted (ao3) by @ryowriten / @kasukuna

modern au, toji's a erotic va in this. ITS SO FUNNy and megumi is super super silly. reader is so me coded (she's a loser basically) and toji is super hot. the sexual tension is amazing and it feels like reading a rom com.

sukuna ryomen

hesitance by @yenayaps

modern au, gym employees au SO FLUFFFYYY READER IS ME. i love sukuna like this, where he's so down bad. the ending is sooo sweeet it'll make you cry

defiance by @yenayaps

heian era au. GRAAHHHHHH THIS ONE WAS SO SWEET IT'S SO CUTE LIKE THE ENDING MADE ME CRY BC IT WAS SO SWEET. everyone needs to read this one, i love heian era aus like this

ongoing (BUT i have very strong faith that they are going to be finished because the authors are active with frequent updates. otherwise i'll kms live on camera)

what you know by @starmapz

sukuna x reader college AU. SUPER self indulgent, sukuna is such a cutie. i would even say found family au because sukuna takes care of his brothers and AHHH IT'S ADORABLEEE <3 it's also really steamy bc sukuna is SO HOT so :333

kickoff by @celestie0

gojo x reader, college AU. oh my god i love this series gojo is so lore accurate if he was a college student in 2024. he's just ughhhh so well written you will have such a crush on him. also reader is a baddie too what can i say

in holy matrimony by @celestie0

gojo x reader, modern au, fake marriage au. the banter in this is BEAUTIFUL it's so fucking funny. it's sort of like a rom com, and the angst is just written so beautifully. reader is just a girl :(

motherhood and matrimony by @alygator77

gojo x reader, fake marriage au ceo au. AHH THIS FIC IS MY GUILTY PLEASURE. please im always on my toes with this one, reader's a single mom and her son's interaction w gojo are sooo cute. gojo best dad :(

controller by @yenayaps

sukuna x reader, ceo au. i haven't gotten the chance to fully read this one but WOW seeing the tags + knowing how sienna writes this is gonna be FIRE

angels in the snow (ao3)

nanami x reader, strangers to lovers. don't be afraid to pick this one up just because it's ongoing, you'll feel very satisfied because it feels like a collection (and has 52 chapters already) than an incomplete series. nanami and reader meet at an airport and have to drive home together bc their flight gets canceled. the progression of their relationship is so sweet, and he's suchhh a green flag. very comfy <3

[yukinemaroop]

symptoms and causes | m.list

pairing — professor gojo x med student reader

summary — he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

status — ongoing (no schedule)

word count — 193 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, alcohol use, self-destructive behavior, toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics, codependency, manipulation, moral ambiguity, borderline insane behavior by all involved, mental health issues, heavy angst, panic attacks, (family) trauma, anger issues, violence, fire incident, references to attempted SA, mentions of death, illness, blood, graphic injuries and medical procedures, academic misconduct/ethics, strong language. reader discretion is advised.

genre/tags — age difference (11 years), student-teacher relationship, university setting, medical content, satoru gojo is deeply flawed but undeniably lovable, he falls first and i'll probably drive him insane, complicated relationship/pining, happy ending, suguru geto is also a hot surgeon (because, why not?)

playlist + taglist + ao3 + wattpad

chapters

chapter 01 | stepping into the surgeon's circle

chapter 02 | bandaid

chapter 03 | shattered porcelain

chapter 04 | flowers and rain

chapter 05 | consume

chapter 06 | after every decision

chapter 07 | old friends

chapter 08 | setting sun

chapter 09 | dying light (gojo's pov)

chapter 10 | nightmare

chapter 11 | bleed (gojo's pov)

chapter 12 | tethered to you

chapter 13 | say my name

chapter 14 | this is me trying

chapter 15 | one last time

chapter 16 | where'd it go wrong (gojo's pov)

more to come...

headcanons

gojo headcanons (sfw + nsfw) + geto headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

drabbles

thoughts of you (geto)

background info

gojo aesthetics + what gojo wears + what geto wears + what yn wears + what car they drive + gojo's apartment + how old they are + what the university/clinic looks like + geto aesthetics + nanami headcanons + gojo's body count

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[yukinemaroop]

[yukinemaroop]

i miss him

[yukinemaroop]

speaking of Gojo chasing after older women.....yall should defff check out teachers pet. It’s a game where Gojo is a fifth year student and you’re a brand new teacher :))))

and the best part??? It’s free!!!!

[yukinemaroop]

The feminine urge to bake him desserts, clean his house, cook him food, and just squeeze him so tight he can't breathe because he SOOO FIIINEEEE

AUGH-

[yukinemaroop]

he's so silly

[yukinemaroop]

gojo satoru // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

a bowl of rock candy

infinite rewind

monsoon

kabedon.

no shirt, no problem

ariadne's thread

ruptured amethyst; splintered tanzanite

wait for me

home with you

interlude

astronomically

his kiss, the riot

cold hands

always golden

mother oh mother

i can feel your heart beating with mine

sweet tooth

in the countryside

two babies

sweetest jealousy

3a.m.

aftermath

banana pancakes

playing pretend

lovers in the d minor

undefinable

perseids

october.

and that just takes the cake

past, present, future

[yukinemaroop]

[yukinemaroop]

they're watching that gorilla break out of prison to watch his son perform on stage

[yukinemaroop]

Family Man Part 2

Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader

Part One

Word Count: 8.9k

thx to a very lovely commissioner!!!

Synopsis : Two months after Satoshi’s death, you and your daughter struggle to move on. You’re so lucky that Gojo is there to pick up the pieces.

(Yandere, smut, oral sex both m/f receiving, lactation kink, implied depression, masochistic gojo, ooc gojo, never rlly fixed that, reader has dark skin, xenophobia(NOT by gojo))

Sometimes, you're in bed, and feel like he's right beside you. 

For a moment, the last two months disappear. You feel whole again. Sometimes, it’s enough to make you turn around, words on your tongue, already ready to smile and greet him with a kiss. 

He isn't there. Nothing's behind you. 

And you feel empty all over again. 

It's better somedays. The emptiness. It's like a looming visage of gloom. Farther away one day, in your bed the next. Lately, it's growing bigger and bigger. A dark cloud on your shoulder, resting heavier and heavier on your back. 

Grief. Mourning. Loss. 

When you open the door, the mailman smiles cheerily at you. 

"Morning!" He chirps. "Lovely weather we're having today."

You nod, silent as he begins to dig through his bag. He's younger than you, you note. By a decade, at the very least. Barely in his twenties. When you were his age, you were still back home, in the village. When you were his age, Japan was just a faraway country, hardly worth your notice. 

He hands you your dues. You take them with a respectful thank you. And then you wait for the inevitable. 

On cue, his smile fades. Something pitying fills his gaze. You force yourself to stare right back at him. Insecurity bites at you, and you know he's staring at your dull face. The circles underneath your eyes. 

In the background, Reina babbles. He's forced to take his eyes off of you momentarily. 

"I heard about your husband." He starts, still staring inside your home. Your hands tighten into fists. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

He bows. So do you. 

"Thank you." You tell him, rehearsed, just like you practiced millions and millions of times. "I...appreciate it." 

He smiles, as if he think he did something, made your life a little easier. You let him bathe in his graciousness, before you shut the door. Away from the sunlight, away from fabricated sympathies. You finally feel like you can breathe again. 

It's been like this ever since Satoshi died. 

Car wreck. Some drunk had driven too close to the curb. Satoshi had been walking home. He'd missed the bus, he does that often. It's a usual quirk of his, you'd often found it adorably clumsy. Being late was harmless. He wasn't supposed to die for it. It'd been an instant kill, for the both of them. No other witnesses. The scene was cleaned up by the time you got there. The officers kept you in dread for four hours. In that time, you could almost convince yourself that it wasn't him. The reason why he wasn't answering your calls was because his phone had died. He was lost on the other side of town. He was anywhere else, doing anything else. 

You were brought to identify the body. Your eyes couldn’t deny what you saw.

You think a part of yourself died with your husband, too. You drift through life like a ghost. Mindless, numb. Colors have all bled into grayish blues. You don’t really feel much of anything anymore.

Reina squeals. You blink back to reality.

She’d dropped her toy. You pick it up. It was a purple stuffed rabbit. Satoshi had gotten it for her the day she was born. She doesn’t even sleep without it.

These days, Reina is the only thing that makes you get up in the morning, even when you don’t want to. She’s the only thing you push yourself for.

You don’t know where you’d be without her.

She’s giggles when you hand it back. She doesn’t even know. How can you even begin to tell your infant that her father is no longer coming home? Someone so new at life should not experience death this soon. It’s a sin. Someone has cursed her. It’s the only explanation you could give.

You kiss her on the top of her head. Her baby hairs are still growing. They resemble yours. Every part of her was you. When you look at her, you don’t see Satoshi.

You used to tease him about it; now, you wish there was just a tiny bit of him on her face.

Or maybe it was a good thing? Did you even want to see the man you loved, mourned for, and hated to think about in your daughter’s eyes? Would it break you even further?

You don’t have to think about questions like those. You have more important things to worry about. When you rifle through the mail, your heart sinks.

Warnings, bills, everything that Satoshi used to handle. Even when your world stopped, the rest of the planet didn’t: ever turning, ever malevolent.

You place the bills down. Reina babbles something.

You bend down to pick her up, she screams in delight when you place her on your lap, peppering her face with kisses.

And maybe your world hadn’t stopped, not just yet.

“There are stains on your blouse.”

You glance down before shrugging.

“Reina dropped her food.” You shrug. “I didn’t have time to clean it up.”

Kiyo doesn’t look very happy about your excuse. She doesn’t say anything about it, preferring to glare at you in silent disapproval as she always does. Usually, you’d have Satoshi acting as a barrier between you and your mother-in-law. For obvious reasons, that wasn’t feasible at the moment.

Reina was being entertained by your father-in-law. Satoshi had inherited Isamu’s bald spot as well as his gentleness. Reina kicked her feet as Isamu muttered soft words, as though they were communicating, even though Reina hadn’t even said her first words yet.

Another milestone Satoshi would miss.

“We made adjustments to the will,” Kiyo announces. “Everything will be passed onto Reina when she comes of age.”

You nod, not very interested in politics and lands. Satoshi came from a traditional family. Japanese nobility, though he wasn’t fond of talking about his background. You were always fine with it. You never married him for the money, despite what your mother-in-law thinks.

On cue, Kiyo snaps her fingers. You blink in her direction.

She frowns, but you’ve never seen her smile in your presence.

“I would appreciate if you could pay attention when discussing my grandchild’s future.” She more or less hisses.

“I am,” you give. “Trust me, no one else is more invested in my daughter’s future than me.”

It makes her even more mad, but you’re too drained to play ‘submissive daughter-in-law’ with her. From the moment Satoshi introduced you as his fiance’, Kiyo had hated you. Nothing you did could make her like you. Not even when you learned the language perfectly, immersed yourself in Japanese culture.

She never said it out loud, but you knew what she thought of you. She wanted someone different for her son: someone with pale skin, straight hair, and Japanese heritage.

You wonder if she blames you for his death.

“You haven't gone to visit him,” She says, after she breaks her death stare, “you should.”

A part of you wants to say no, but you’re in her home, and you know she doesn’t take it lightly when guests (not family, you were not family) reject her. So you do as she suggested. You rise, glancing at Reina before ultimately stepping out of Satoshi’s childhood home.

He was just as you had left him. His gravestone stood tall and proud. Even next to all the other graves, his was the tallest. It must be Kiyo’s doing. No matter the gripes she had about you, her child would always reach for the skies.

His incense had to be switched. You did so, throwing out the burnt sticks and replacing them with new ones. You watched the smoke flicker away from his altar. A lone picture of him, a shy smile. It was from back when he was younger. His hair was still there. An office job hadn’t dulled his eyes.

You wanted to keep the ashes. Just a tiny piece of him, tucked by your own altar you had. Kiyo had refused, wanting the entire body to be cremated and kept in one piece. Too broken, you hadn’t pushed. Now, all you were left with his clothes and the fading scent on the pillows. You regret not fighting more that day.

You don’t cry. Not today. A part of you is proud. It feels like it’s much too early to feel so numb to this grave. It’s too early for this to feel normal.

You touch the cold stone. It’s smooth underneath your fingertips.

Your in-laws are right inside the house. You still feel lonely.

“You shouldn’t have left.” You told the tomb. “You shouldn’t have abandoned me like this.”

When you curse Satoshi’s grave, you could have sworn you felt a tiny tingle by your neck.

On Thursdays, you take Reina shopping.

She’s a hit with the local farmers market. The shopkeepers coo at her giggles and beautiful eyes as you haggle prices for vegetables and grains. It’s nice to get back on routine. Even with everything going on.

The bills were still on the counter when you left. More and more were coming in. You feel like you were being buried alive.

Reina kicks her feet. When you look at her, her chubby cheeks are stretched in the wide smile. You smile back, and then you pepper her face with kisses. These days, you’ve opted out of the bus, trying to save some money. It’ll just be until you find a job. Then, you can take as many Air-conditioned rides as you want.

There’s a honk. You ignore it. A car rolls to a stop beside the sidewalk. You take a peek, and then you stop and stare.

“Mr. Gojo?” You ask.

“Hey! Long time!” The man waves cheerily.

You give a timid smile, waving. Reina, your polar opposite, screams in delight. She frantically leans out of your arms as though she could get to Gojo by sheer will. You quickly rearrange your hands to balance her.

“What’re you doing out there?” He frowns. “Especially in this heat?”

“Ah.” Subconsciously, you wipe the sweat off your neck. “We were heading home from the market.”

He brightens. “Wanna hop in? It’s way too hot to walk that far.”

You smile, about to politely decline but then you remember infants shouldn’t be in this weather for too long.

Gojo’s car is luxurious, but the biggest relief is the cool air blowing over your heated skin. Reina is ecstatic to be next to Gojo. She babbles something, reaching out her tiny arms. Gojo takes her immediately.

“And how’s the prettiest girl in the world doing, today?” He grins, lifting her above his head. She coos.

You’re not really sure how Gojo walked into your life. You met him once before. That day when Satoshi had a mental breakdown and practically ran away from home. Gojo was so ansty back then, and it made sense why he and your husband got along so well.

He was the one who brought home Satoshi’s essentials from work—his computer, his notes—and then he started delivering Satoshi’s work mail. Then, sometimes, he’d stop by for lunch. And then he started bringing toys for Reina. Two months passed, and you know him now.

Not well. But you know Gojo enough to slip into the passenger seat, watching how he handles Reina.

“Okay, Car ride!” He tells her. She claps her hands as he gently hands her back to you.

“Thank you again, Mr. Gojo.” You tell him. “Really, this means a lot.”

He waves you off, starting the car. “Don’t worry about it, Seriously. Got nothin’ better to do anyway. Also, I told you already, call me Satoru.”

You smile, shifting away. You don’t know why Gojo is insistent on helping a widow. He was the friend of your late husband (though, strangely, Satoshi never spoke of the man before or after the quick introductions). Maybe it’s guilt. But unlike the rest of the people who knew, Gojo never once looked at you like that as though you were in pieces in front of him. It was nice, finally having someone like that. Someone who doesn’t see you as the widow of a dead man.

He was a nice young man. You shouldn’t be so quick to assume everyone has an underlying motive.

Maybe some people were just as they are. Nice.

“Grocery shopping?” He mentions to your bag. It creases under your grip.

You nod. “Dinner. You’re welcome to join, but I’m not making anything special.”

“I’d never pass up a meal from you, ma’am,” Gojo says, happily.

You like to keep to yourself, but he was driving you home. It was the least you could do to pay back his hospitality, as well as the other things he had done for you. Honestly, your bucket for Gojo’s hospitality wasn't yet empty.

When the car rolls to a stop, Gojo hops out, opening the door before you can touch it. You thank him, Reina huddled safely in your arms and fast asleep. Gojo grins, not before grabbing your groceries and leading the way.

Your house is sparser than it had been just months ago. Less decoration. Less silly memoirs. No pictures. You dumped them all, stored them in a tiny box before locking them all in the attic. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.

Gojo waltzes into your home like he owns it. You don’t mind. He’s young, still in his twenties, at his prime. These days, you can feel things start to break down within you. Your shoulder hurts when you sleep on it the wrong way. You have to be more careful about picking up things from off the ground. You can’t tell whether this has to do with the remnants of pregnancy or your age, but you’re envious of Gojo’s youthful strength either way.

He places the bags on the counter. By then, Reina’s awake. She blearily blinks at you. You were hoping she’d stay asleep for a little while longer.

“I can watch her!” Gojo pipes up, extending his hands. Reina’s overjoyed to be handed over. It’s nice to have your hands full with something else other than baby

You listen to them giggle while you get started on dinner. It’s your usual dance. Potatoes. The sounds of boiling water. You want to make something simple, but Gojo is here, and you don’t want to disappoint your guest. By the time you’re back out, it’s nearly an hour, and the food has yet to be served.

They don’t seem to mind. Gojo had taken Reina onto the floor. You don’t complain. It’s where she usually played anyway. He was driving one of her wooden cars on the carpet, running it across the floor, as Reina clapped to her heart’s content. You could only watch, heart strangely numb.

He’s good with her.

Like Satoshi was.

You clear your throat. Gojo looks up.

“Food’s ready.” You tell him with a stiff smile. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll take care of her.”

“Be good, okay?” He pats Reina’s head before standing up. You take her into your arms.

She’s tired from playing. Reina settles in the crib rather nicely. It’s relieving. When she’s asleep, you can’t bring yourself to leave. You watch her. Her chest rises and falls. She snores. It’s the most adoring noise you’ve ever heard.

When you head back to the kitchen, Gojo’s already back. He grins, clearly eager.

“You cooked a lot.” He comments when you two finally settle down. “Not that I’m complaining!”

“I hope it’s to your liking,” you say as always.

And it is. Gojo never hides from giving his compliments. He’s so genuine and sincere, and it makes you a bit bashful.

“Mrs. Sawai, this stuff right here is sometimes the highlight of my day,” he says. You shake your head.

“It’s true! You have talent. You should open up a restaurant or something! Wait no, don’t do that...you’d be booked for years, and I’ll never eat your cooking again.” That makes you laugh. He seems pleased for some reason.

“Thank you,” you say, “I appreciate that.”

“How was your week? Your students?” You prod.

“Good. They’re all good!” He chirps back. “I was out of town for the week, so returning to my precious students was the best.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I wish I could just pack them all in my suitcase and take ‘em with me. They’re the cutest things.”

He said he taught at a religious school, which you found strange because Gojo didn’t really strike you as religious. Nevertheless, he seemed very passionate about teaching. It was rather endearing.

Did Satoshi ever have that kind of passion for his job?

“Reina reminds me of them. The youth.” Gojo adds. “Endless potential. The kids are all like...seeds, right? They just need the proper care to bloom.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” you say.

When dinner’s over, you gather the utensils and bowls. Gojo offers to help, but you don't bite, insisting that he rests. It gives you time to decompress. As much as you like Gojo, he’s a bit severe. You can’t be around him for too long, he’s too bright. His companionship is much like a furnace. Warm, but too much, and you burn.

When you return, you expect him to put his shoes back on, waiting by the door.

Instead, Gojo is perched on the counter—his hands card through your mail.

You stare. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised at being caught. He doesn’t startle; he barely spares you a glance, perusing over your bills like they were his. You know you should say something. Anger. It should bubble up instead of the shame. You open your mouth—

“How much?” He suddenly asks.

You fumble. “What?”

He waves the envelopes. “How much is it?”

You say nothing. He shrugs, as if that’s an answer itself.

Gojo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a checkbook. You move when he plucks a stray pen from the counter.

“What are you doing?” You ask, incredibly lost.

“I’m not real good with money.” He sheepishly admits before tearing off the slip and handing it to you. “But this should be enough, right?”

You stare at the amount. You’ve never held this much money before.

“I can’t accept this.” You instantly say. Instinct.

You go to hand this back. He puts a hand on his chin.

“Tell you what.” He tells you. “If I gotta take this back, I’m just gonna head to the bank, cash it in myself, and throw all the money into the river.” He grins at your horrified expression. “And it’ll all be in Yuan, so even if someone fishes it out, no one’s gonna be able to use it. One way or another, that money’s getting outta’ my bank.”

His voice softens, akin to butter. It melts into your ears.

“This isn’t out of obligation or anything. I’m giving this to you because I want to help my friend. That’s it.”

Gojo has never looked at you in pity, not like the others. He’s always looked at you like...well, you could never understand his expression. You stare at him. His sunglasses have tilted over, showcasing those gorgeous blue eyes.

Why? Why are you doing this? You want to ask him. It’s killing you inside. Is it pity for the wife of a dead friend? Why was he doing this to you?

You think of Reina. Happy giggling, Reina, with your eyes and your hair.

“It’s not like I don't have any to spare. I’m, like, loaded,” Gojo continues with his usual snark, and you think of the fancy black car parked in front of your tiny house. “And if that isn’t enough for you, just think of it as me paying you back after all those times I’ve eaten your food.”

You lower your gaze when you take the check.

“I’ll pay you back—”

“—I won’t accept it.” He grins, and you have to smile at his tenacity.

“Thank you. No, really.” You keep the check close to your chest. “Thank you, Mr.Gojo.”

He angles his sunglasses down. He looks expectant. Just this once.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

“No problem!” He pops his frames back into place.

You see him off. When he’s behind the wheel, he gives an excited wave. You shyly wave back.

And then you feel a touch right on your back. When you turn, there’s nothing but air.

Sometimes, you dream of home.

Your real home. The village is far, far away from Japan. Where you lived with your parents and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. On sweltering summer nights, you and the other children would sleep on the terrace underneath the stars. There were dirt paths, and rolling hills but the sky was clear every night.

In the village, tradition was everything. You used to hate it. Every day was the same. An endless cycle. You used to dance back then, your family had pushed you into it. As a child, you thought it was stupid.

Maybe that’s what pulled you towards the city—bustling roads, people everywhere. Your college was a town in and of itself. You met so many new people every day.

Satoshi was one of them.

When you brought them to your family, everyone was in awe. He was a foreigner. He was well-off, too; he came from a traditional Japanese family.

It was your Nani who pulled you aside as your family gushed about him.

“Are you sure about this one?” She had asked.

You nodded. Back then, you were young and in love. He was everything you could have dreamed of. New, exciting.

She doesn’t smile.

“Be careful.”

You remembered her words, even after you ran off with Satoshi to Japan. You remembered her words even after Satoshi assured you he wanted you to stay home and he’d work. You remembered her words when Reina was born. You remembered her words when you and Satoshi’s lives were perfect and happy.

And then you woke up.

Your village was gone. Instead of waking up in a pile of your siblings, you were alone on a giant bed.

It’s dark in your home. Satoshi hated having the lights off.

You looked to the crib. Reina was still asleep. During nights like these, you often bring her to sleep with you. It still isn’t enough, sometimes.

You’re a terrible mother. Why isn’t your own daughter enough for you?

Careful not to wake her, you slip out of bed, walking into the closet. You reach up, feeling your way on one of the shelves.

The photo album is dusty. You cough a bit when you open the book.

There’s you. Younger, stupider, garbed in your traditional dance dress. You always found that outfit so itchy. The photo was taken right after you’d placed first in one of your last competitions. Even in the photo, you had this look of disdain, holding that trophy like it was nothing but a heavy burden.

You still have that trophy a decade later.

You flip another page. Your parents. Your cousins. Your Aunts and Uncles. You stare at the photo of you holding your baby cousin. He was the same age as Reina when that picture was taken. That was ten years ago.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your family. Reina hadn’t met her grandparents, her own cousins. You never got the chance to. Satoshi was always so anxious about leaving Japan.

They’ve seen her, through video calls and photos. But that’s different than touching her, bonding with her.

You stare at the photo of you posing with the rest of your siblings and cousins. Strangely, you feel like you robbed something from Reina.

You miss home.

You cry until the album shuts itself closed, and the sun starts peeking through the windows.

“You good?” Satoru suddenly asks.

You blink, eyelashes fluttering as you stare at him. He’s on the floor again, watching Reina as she clacks a few wooden blocks together. It isn’t quiet. The babbling, too. She’d already knocked over the tower Satoru had built. He didn’t seem too upset by her destruction.

“Oh,” you say, “yes. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

As discretely as you can, you rub at your eyes, hoping that would shoo the dark circles away. It doesn’t help.

“I...just haven’t been sleeping too well these days. That’s all.”

Reina says something, not too happy with the lack of attention. Satoru gives her another block. He’d given her a bunch of toys, this time. You weren’t sure where to even store half of them. If he kept this up, pretty soon Reina’s entire room will be filled with dolls mirrors, and blocks.

“What’s been going on?” He asks.

You’re not sure how to answer that. You aren’t sure what’s been going on yourself. All that you know is that it’s getting worse. You can’t sleep at night, most nights like there’s something pressing you down. Things are going missing. You feel like you’re being watched constantly over and over again.

It only goes away whenever Satoru’s around. Maybe that’s why you’re more tolerant of his space.

“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’ve just misplaced a few things. It’s been aggravating looking for them.”

“Hm.” He cocks his head, you can’t decipher his tone. “Really?”

“I’ll find them eventually.”

He’s silent for a few more moments and then—

“Maybe you’re haunted.”

You laugh. It’s mean and sardonic, but you haven’t laughed in a while, and you hide away when Satoru stares.

“A ghost?” You question. “Those don’t exist.”

In the village, superstition was everywhere. Guess that never changed, no matter what corner of the world you ran to.

“Not a ghost.” He corrects. “Maybe something else.”

You hum, unamused. Satoru turns to Reina with an all-too-wide smile on his face.

“It’ll be right behind you, and you won’t even know it.” He tells her. “Then, it’ll draw closer, and closer, and closer until....it gets ya—”

To further his point, his hands shoot out to lightly jostle her. Reina squeals, absolutely thrilled.

Then, Satoru turns to you.

“Or something like that.”

You aren’t impressed.

“Ghosts aren’t real.” You tell him.

“They certainly aren’t.” He agrees. “But other things are.”

Satoshi acted strangely two days before his death.

He was always anxious, but this was even worse than before. Constantly looking behind him, like they’d be something there. You know he wouldn’t sleep. He’d just lay there, shifting in panic.

You don’t prod until you find him in the bathroom in clear hysterics.

“I messed up,” he mumbles over and over again. “I messed up. I messed up.”

“Satoshi.” You beg, kneeling on the tile next to him. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I messed up.” He tells you again. “I keep messing up.”

And then he sobs. He cries so loudly, you’re worried it might wake up Reina. You hug him. Hold him close to your chest, letting him cry himself out.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love Reina. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You ask.

He looks at you then.

“For cheating.”

You remember every detail. The crinkle in his eyes. The beginning stages of wrinkles in his face. A picture entirely stamped into your memory.

“I forgive you.” You immediately say. “I—I forgive you. We—we can work through this.”

“We can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better. She deserves better, too. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything when you prod. Who, how, when. Your husband cheated on you. You aren’t even allowed to grieve your dying marriage when you have to grieve your dead husband.

You meant what you said. You forgave him. You would have worked through it. Fixed it. Because your marriage with Satoshi was perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect.

It was a perfect marriage when he never stood up for you in front of his mother. It was a perfect marriage when all he did back from work was eat and sleep. It was a perfect marriage when he cheated on you.

Rose-tinted glasses. Maybe your relationship wasn’t the most perfect.

But it was fixable.

Reina’s crying in her crib. The thing on your chest is back.

You fumble through the dark, reaching for her. She’s crying even louder when you pick her up, even when you rock her in your arms.

“Please stop.” You beg. “Please stop crying.”

She doesn’t. The pressure gets bigger.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” Satoru’s asking when you’re finished putting away the groceries. He’d offered you a ride again. You wondered when you stopped being surprised at his frequent pop-ins.

“The same as always,” you respond.

You’re not used to the house being so quiet. Reina’s always doing something. For an infant, she’s rather loud.

But she isn’t here today. Kiyo wanted her Grandaughter for the night. You obliged, letting your Mother-in-law whisk Reina away. Was she even your mother-in-law anymore?

“So nothing?” Satoru prods, and you wonder why he’s so persistent on the answer. Maybe he wants to tease you.

The differences between you and him are staggering. He’s young, still in his twenties, he probably still goes out clubbing, drinking, whatever kids his age are into. You are...older, a mom, unsure if the tight skirts you wore 15 years ago would still fit you.

“If you don't got any plans, why don’t you hang out with me tonight?”

You stare at him.

“Don’t gimme that look. You act like I’m gonna rob you.” He complains. “Let yourself loose a bit. What do you even do for fun, these days?”

That stumped you. Apart from lounging around, sulking, job hunting, revolving around Reina, you haven’t done much. When’s the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru?

“There’s a bar that opened up. Not too far from here.” He muses. “Wanna go?”

You hesitate, “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not good at handling alcohol—”

“Same! Total lightweight.” He gushes. “It’ll still be fun, though! What do you say?”

Why, you want to ask. Why is he so insistent on spending time with you. Asking about you. About Reina. What does he want from your broken family? Your mind can’t piece together the images—connect the dots.

“Okay,” you say instead.

Three hours later, you’re dressed in the most flattering clothing in the back of your closet. Satoru looks pristine as always, and you wonder if there’s ever a chance he could look any less put together. Under the dim lights, he’s almost glowing. You can’t stare at him for too long.

The conversation is light, not too purposeful. You wander from one topic to the next. He talks about his co-workers. His school. You’ve always wondered about this teaching job. He seemed to never want to shut up about his students, but whenever you try to pry about the details, he starts to drift away. The most you’ve gotten from him was rambling about how it was a private religious school before he sprung into something else.

“Did you have any pets?” He asks, “Growing up, I mean.”

You shrug. “There were a lot of stray dogs, in my hometown. We would feed them, but no. No pets.”

“You?” You prod.

He takes a moment, genuinely thinking.

“My family had a dog, not too long after I was born. After that, nothing.” You were surprised, he answered. The alcohol must make his lips a little looser.

“I think having a dog would be nice,” you muse, mostly to yourself, “maybe an older one. Less energy.”

“What pet do you think I should have?” He asks.

You stare at him. He’s grinning.

“A rock,” you respond, and when he laughs, you laugh a bit, too.

“I like it when you smile like that,” he says when his voice recovers. “You get all blushy.”

You frown, discretely checking your face in the glass.

“I don’t blush.” You say. “My skin’s too dark.”

He tips his sunglasses down, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. You shift away. His gaze doesn’t let you get far.

“Not really,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “It’s subtle, but it’s still there. It’s a nice color.”

He’s teasing you. You know that. Still, you look away. He laughs again. It sounds like twinkling bells.

“How’s everything holdin’ up with the house?” He asks when you’re nursing your 3rd drink. “I know you had a couple of issues earlier.”

You shrug, lips loose, feeling warm. “I don’t think I have to worry about it. Not anymore.”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“I’m thinking of going back home.”

He stops messing with his drink. You don’t notice, thoughts hazy.

“Back...to your country?” Satoru asks carefully.

You nod absentmindedly. “I only came here because of Satoshi. Now that he’s...I think it’s best for Reina if we go back.”

You want her to live with her maternal culture. You want her to meet your side of the family finally. Maybe, when she’s older, you can put her in your old dance garments. She’ll probably hate it, much like you did. She’ll be good at it, much like you were.

He’s silent, swirling his glass.

“Really?”

“Yes.” You feel defensive, even when you shouldn’t be. His tone was cool. Yours wasn’t. “It—it’s her home. She should see it.”

“Wasn’t she born here?” Satoru questioned. “Wouldn’t Japan be her home, then?”

You deflate.

“You’re right.” You admit. “Japan is her home, but it isn’t mine.”

You miss home. You miss the village. You’d do anything to go back to the good old times. You’d do anything to be away from this pain.

Japan was empty. Your in-laws barely tolerate you. No friends. No job. The only good memories you had were buried in a tomb, and even those rotted away by lies and deceit.

“I think you should stay,” Satoru says, voice soft.

“Why?” You ask. “I have nothing here.”

“You could.”

You look up. In the dim lights of the bar, he’s breathtaking. Everything you weren’t.

And that everything closes the distance between you and him.

It’s soft. Barely a kiss. His lips are soft; you can smell his shampoo. It lasts for a moment before you’re breaking it. You shy away, staring at the floor beneath you. Your shoes. You can hear your heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Satoru follows your mouth. This time, it’s bolder. You can feel his warmth, pressed against your frigid soul. He’s melting you down to bone. There’s a hand on your back, keeping you in place. Fireworks spark at the touch.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone like this. Not since...

And then you remember who you’re with, what you’re doing. The ring sits heavy on your finger.

You push away. Satoru falters, and you use that opportunity to stumble to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” You say, “I—I’m—”

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Instead, you turn and flee out the bar. Into the cold frigid night.

You’re drunk. You can feel it in your fingertips, the way your vision gets the slightest bit dizzy when you move too fast. You cling against a random lightpost, checking your phone.

Your place wasn’t that far away. You could walk, right? But it would be safer to call a cab. Better yet, call Kiyo. Call your neighbor. Call anyone?

Oh, you just remembered that you have no one here.

Satoru finds you when you’re already crying. You can feel him on your shoulder before he even says anything.

“Hey,” he says, reaching for you, “c’mon. Let’s get out of the street—”

“Why?” You whirl onto him, so fast that even he’s surprised. “Why are you doing any of this? Reina, me, why do you care so much?”

You’re still crying, but you can feel your tears slow down the tiniest bit. You weren’t breathing. You don’t think he was either.

Satoru opens his mouth. Closes. Opens again. His smile is gone. You can see the imprint of your lipstick on his perfect pout.

“I love you.”

It feels like he just slapped you. A knife in your belly, tearing you apart. Nausea builds in your throat, threatening to spill all over the road. You can’t look at him anymore, it hurts too much. Betrayal. You’re betraying your husband. Your dead cheater husband. 

“Stop.” You beg him anyway, “Don’t say that. Never say that, I can’t think–”

“—Then don’t think.” He insists, sweet, saturated. “Don’t think about any of this.”

He kisses you again, and your mind blanks. You let him this time, and you feel yourself break over it.

This time, Satoru’s the one who breaks it, resting his forehead on yours. You still must look confused. He laughs adoringly.

“C’mon this can’t be too out of left field, right?” He asked. “I mean, I made it pretty obvious.”

He had. You were too preoccupied in your own misery to notice. Offers to drive you to the grocery store. Volunteering to take care of another man’s baby. Satoru has always been direct.

You avoid his gaze, but there’s no where to go.

“Satoru,” you hesitate. “I—I don’t feel that way.”

“I know.” He concedes, trailing his lips down your cheek. You don’t stop him.

“But you need this.” He kisses your neck. “I know you do. You’re so stressed all the time, hm? You need me. Use me. However, you want to.”

Use him. You’ve always used him. What difference would this make?

You still had a chance to stop this. There were so many reasons to stop. You were a recent widow. A single mother. He was so much younger than you—

You kiss him again to stop thinking.

You don’t know what time you stumble through your door.

Satoru hasn’t stopped touching you in the cab, walking up to your patio. If you were sober, you might have been a bit more hysterical about it, now you just wanted him never to stop.

He’s pushing you against the door, slamming it shut with your body weight. You can barely get the words out past his plush lips.

“Bedroom.” You insist.

He pulls away with a laugh. “’course, Babe.”

You’re not sure how to feel about that petname, but you don’t get a moment to complain. He’s effortlessly picking you up, and you settle on the cool comforters moments later.

Your dress is halfway up your thighs. He spares no time, reaching for the back and finding the zipper. It falls apart in his fingers. He peels the fabric off of you with a delighted sigh.

“Fuck, look at you,” he’s saying to the newly uncovered skin. “so so pretty.”

Not used to the attention, you shy away. He doesn’t let you, taking you by the chin so he can kiss you again.

He’s so different now. You feel like you’re seeing a side of him you aren’t supposed to. Long white lashes, pretty blue eyes that are drenched in want and lust. His breathing was elevated. He was excited.

It scares you.

“I...I haven’t done this in a while.” You admit when you pull back. You give him a glance, before resigning yourself to pull away the rest of the dress and dropping it to the floor. “So...Please be nice?”

You sound like a child, unsure and nervous. You hate that you can’t keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Yes, yes.” He’s nodding, staring at you like a drooling dog. “I’ll be so so nice, baby. The nicest. Just lemme’ touch you. Please, please, pretty please?”

You give a tiny nod, and he’s pouncing on you.

He’s insatiable, you don’t think he’d ever get enough. He’s pawing at your bra before it comes off completely beneath his touch. Your panties are gone too, and then you’re entirely bare beneath him.

He doesn't forget about himself, neither do you. Between his ravenous kisses, you manage to take off his jacket. Satoru helps you with his shirt, pulling it off him, showing his toned abs and pale skin. Not a single mark or blemish. He’s absolute perfection.

He must notice your hesitant fingers at his shoulders because he stops sucking on your neck with a distinct pop, still playing with your tits, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

“Touch me,” he says, “I want you to touch me.”

You feel awkward pulling your fingers down to his chest, his stomach. His skin is soft, warm. Your hands are frigid. He shivers when you graze over his abs. His skin is so pale, almost translucent. If you were to pinch him, bite him, the color would show oh so nicely.

When you pull away, he whines, nearly falling over.

“Don’t fucking tease me like that.” The way he says it is so needy. You laugh, gaining the courage to play with his hair.

He gets the control back eventually, pushing you back down so he can devour you properly.

His face is between your legs before you can comprehend it. He’s spreading you open so he can see your pussy. You’re already creaming for him. Your pussy juice is spread across your lips, making your skin glisten and shine. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t worse, drooling like a fucking dog before his mouth meets your cunt in a frenzied kiss.

He gives this high-pitched moan that sends a thrill up your spine the more he makes out with your clit, licking and sucking.

“Oh.” You sink against the pillows. “Satoru—Satoru-!—”

“Fuck yes—” his voice is muffled but he doesn’t stop. “You taste so good, baby. like—like fuckin’ heaven—”

You almost double over when his teeth graze your clit. Your hand reaches out immediately to grab and his hair and pull.

It does nothing. He just whines, and when he digs deeper into your pussy, you realize he likes it when you hurt him.

You pull harder and his finger presses its way into your wet hole and just the right angle to make you see stars.

“Fuck baby, ‘can barely fit my fingers.” It would sound like a complaint if he didn’t sound so far gone already. “How are we gonna fit my cock into this pussy, hm?”

He talks too much. When you shove his face deeper into your folds, it seems to shut him up and he’s back to worshipping your dripping cunt.

He’s too good. It’s all so good. You’re squeezing his head between your thighs, sure you’re suffocating him but he doesn’t seem to care. The noise is downright scandalous but you’re too far gone to give a shit about that.

It felt so good to stop thinking.

“Close.” You gasp when you hit that plateau. “I’m close. I’m—”

“Gonna cum?” he asks from underneath you, and it only seems to spur him on. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl. Cum baby. Just let go. I gotcha’ just please please please—”

It hits and you arch your back, letting your orgasm rush past your body. It fizzes up your spine, right to your tits before you sag back to Earth. Satoru is more that happy to work you through your high before your thighs fall apart against him and he’s detaching himself from your clit with one last part kiss.

Satoru kisses you, famished. You can barely kiss back, following his lips with your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s a tangy sweetness, warmed from his spit.

“Was I nice?” Satoru asks.

You nod. He smiles.

He pulls back, sitting on his knees. You watch as he fiddles with his boxers, before pulling out his pulsing cock.

It’s not all that thick, but it’s the length that makes you shift, just the tiniest bit. He’s on the larger end. His cock looks puffy and dripping in a way that almost looks painful. He pumps himself a few times, and then you’re reaching out.

Satoru stops, watching as you rise from your earlier position, hand on his cock. Your hand is so much smaller than his, you can barely wrap your fingers around his base. He shivers at the touch, and by the time you’re fisting his cock he faltars, head falling into the crook of your neck.

“Too much?” You ask when he gasps.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No no. Keep going. Please don’t stop.”

That same whine again. Helpless and needy. When you squeeze him, he jolts.

And then you stop. You’re sure he’s about to complain but then you’re lowering yourself, keeping your eyes on him, and you give his cock a tentative lick.

You hadn’t done this in a while, and you weren’t all that sure if you could swallow all of him, but you try your best. You swirl your tongue around his tip, watching as he twitches. His cock jumps in your mouth and you have to hold his base to keep him still for you. He’s so sensitive. Every touch you give him seems to just make him even needier.

He rocks his cock into your mouth. You let him, watching as he babbles on and on.

“So so fucking good, baby.” He’s moaning, head flung back, like it’d be too much to keep looking at you. “Right—right there. Fuck fuck fuck.”

He cums fast, and it’s sudden. He’s barely holding his breath before he’s shuddering and he’s filling your entire mouth. There’s so much of it, you can’t possibly swallow it all. You mouth off his cock with a pop, pumping him until he starts twitching out of overstimulation.

Satoru is panting, still basking in that afterglow as you kiss him. He doesn’t seem too embarrassed about how quick he lasted. Then again, you don’t think he has the brainpower to feel anything right now other than pure lust. Pussydrunk, your brain gives.

You reach up, wiping away the tears collected in the corner of his eyes. A part of you wants to leave it there. He looks good like this. Pretty as an angel.

And then you look down and you see his cock has not gone down at all.

“Oh,” you murmur, “I see you’re healthy.”

“Mmh,” he says back, not exactly words but you’re not looking for a conversation right now.

Your pussy is throbbing. She wants more attention. You’re settling back into your original position as you watch Satoru rifle through his forgotten pants. He pulls out a familiar wrapper. You have to roll your eyes at his preparedness.

“You’re a bit too ready for this.” You note.

“Can you blame me?” He honestly asks. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

The casual admission makes you glance away. He laughs at your sudden shyness and you have to wonder how you didn’t see him before.

“Ready, baby?” He asks. This feels familiar, somehow.

He gives his cock two cursory pumps, and then he’s pushing himself into you.

It’s so much all at once. As wet as you were, his cock bullies his way into you with a fierce stretch. It’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut. Grin and bear it.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He curses. “How the hell did you fit a baby through here?” You can’t bring yourself to respond to his usual snark, so you claw at his back, raking your nails through his skin. He hisses and the pain seems to distract him into temporarily shutting up.

By the time, he sits his dick in your pussy, you’re close to breaking. You were right, he was way too big. Bigger than the one person you’ve always been with, so you’re not sure if you have a good gauge on size. Still, your brain short-circuits, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Mind-numb.

He’s impatient this time, not giving you a chance to adjust before he’s clumsily pulling back out only to ram himself back in. You lurch, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself from his sudden pace.

“Satoru—!” You gasp. “It’s—!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing, but you’re not quite sure how much he actually means it. “I’ve—I’ve just waited so—ah—long and now you’re here and it’s so—”

If it’s even possible, he gets even faster, pushes his cock even deeper into your battered pussy. The squelching of your hole and his whines into your ear make it so much more erotic than it needs to be. You give into your desire, reaching over to sink your teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. The masochist in him purrs in delight.

You notice it first. That familiar soreness in your tits. When you glance down, your nipple is leaking that familiar milky fluid.

Satoru notices too. He stops, sinking his dick entirely into you. You’ve never felt fuller.

“Oh.” You feel heat creep up your neck. You hadn’t fed Reina today, this was bound to happen. “I—I’m sorry. I—I should’ve—”

You expect him to pull out of you awkwardly. Maybe even be disgusted.

Instead, he groans.

“I’m getting dessert now, too?”

“What?”

As your answer, he leans down and latches onto your tit.

He’s messy, smearing milk all over your skin and the other breast. After a while, he picks up his pace again, resuming his pussyfucking. You’re sure the angle must be painful, him bent over you like this, but he makes no complaint. And you could care less about his discomfort right about now.

He alternates between your breasts like he can’t decide which one tastes better. It shouldn’t feel this good, watching him suckle on your tits but you can feel yourself get even tighter. He can feel it, too.

Satoru’s rambling now. You can barely keep up with his incoherent mess.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re close, arentcha’?” he’s slurring his words, spitting them out one after another. “C’mon baby, you wanna cum? Cum, then? Milk my cock, pretty baby. Just like last time.” You should be paying more attention to his words. You don't.

Everything feels like deja vu. You should be paying attention to your own words too. You don’t.

“Mhn.” You moan. “Close. Sato, I’m close. Real real close—”

Your eyes widen. So does his.

You think you just ruined everything.

And then he starts jackhammering himself into you.

“Say it again.” He demands, driving his cock deep into your cunt.

You shake your head, despite your refusal you can’t help but— “Sato, oh God. Please Sato—Don’t—”

“Again, say it again.” His fingers descend to your clit, messily rubbing tiny circles. “Don’t stop saying my name until you’ve cum.”

You obey. Sato, Sato, Sato, Sa—and then you’re tipping over the edge. He fucks you through it, keeping you on that high until he’s shuddering too.

“Fuck baby, I missed you.” He’s whispering in your ear. “I missed you so much.”

You sigh when he kisses you, still coming down to Earth. The kiss his soft, just filled with want, instead of that carnal desire. He pulls away, and just when you’re debating to let him stay the night, he’s pulling out new rubber.

“Another one?” You ask, the dots not quite connecting yet.

“Oh, c’mon.” He grins down at you. “You didn’t think we’d go for just one round, did ya?”

You’re finally back in his arms.

Satoru dreamed of this day. He’s dreamt of this for months, ever since he had to leave you with that scumbag. Now that you’re sleeping peacefully in his arms again, everything is finally right in his world.

He shifts, wanting to bring you closer to his chest, but he winces. Fuck, you really did a number on him. He didn’t know you were into biting. And he can feel the pleasant sting of your nails on his back. He’d need to be careful with his RCT for a while. He wants these marks to last for as long as possible.

And when they fade, he’s sure he won’t have to convince you too much to make more for him.

“Give...them...back.”

Oh right. He’d almost forgotten about that other tiny problem he had.

He turns to the curse. “So, enjoy the show?”

Satoshi is unrecognizable. Malformed, demented. No more eyes, tall enough to reach the ceiling. To a being like Satoru, he was still nothing.

To a non-shaman and an infant, a grade 2 curse was quite the hassle. No wonder your so exhausted these days. Your husband was cursing you.

“Give them back.” The curse rasps. “Give them both back.”

Satoru’s silent, as if he’s really thinking about it.

“Nah, I’m good.” He grins. “This one’s mine now. And about Reina...what do you think suits me best: Dada or Daddy?”

The curse roars. It’s loud enough to shake the walls. Satoru tsks.

“Careful there. You might wake the missus.” He points out.

“Mine...” Satoshi insists. “They were....mine.”

“Were.” Satoru enunciates. “And now, they’re all mine! Sorry about the change in management. Don’t worry, though. I’ll take great care of both of ‘em.”

Always wanting to have the last word, Satoru reaches over and plucks your wedding ring off your limp finger.

“So, that’s where you got attached.” He muses at the metal. “Can’t believe you’re pathetic enough to curse your own wife. Is this 'cause you're still mad about the execution?" He asks, twirling the ring in his palm. "That happened months ago, man, get over it."

A snap of his fingers. Satoshi is gone. The room gets less stuffier. You relax in your sleep, and Satoru is caressing your arm, still studying the ring. It’s cheap. Plated gold with a less valuable metal as the base.

Pathetic. He tosses it carelessly.

A few months later, Satoru proposes with a proper engagement ring.

You say yes.

[yukinemaroop]

I wish lesbians were as easy to find in real life as they are on tumblr