Despite his laid-back demeanor, Satoru was extremely diligent.
He hardly forgets anything, every little thing in his life adheres to schedule. It took you a while to get used to how strict he was. It took even longer to adapt.
You supposed there was an upside to this, at least it made the day predictable.
The obvious downside was there was no way for you to break the norm. His schedule was too tight, his security was too rigid. There was no way for him to ever not know what you were doing. Youād never have the chance to seek out fresh air, feel actual sunlight on your skin, not just by sitting on that caged balcony.
But today heād left the door unlocked.
You could see the bolt. Unlatched. Open. He hadnāt clicked it shut the second he got home, entered a code only he knew on the security pad. You donāt even think he noticed. Did he forget? Was it all some fluke accident?Ā
āDinnerās great, by the way.ā
Your gaze shifts to Satoru. The two of you were currently sitting at the dining table, eating something warm and delicious. The recipe was old. Something your mother often made.
How was she, these days?
āIām glad you like it,ā You say, āI havenāt made it in awhile. I wasnāt sure if it would turn out well.ā
āNo, itās delicious.ā Satoru grinned. āYou should make it more often.ā
You should focus on the conversation, give all your attention to Satoru just as he wants, but the unlocked door is so distracting. He couldnāt have not known, right? Satoru was always diligent, he never did anything carelessly. This was obviously some sort of test. He was trying to gauge your reaction. Don't fall for it.
But thereās a tiny chance, too cautious to be hopeful. Thereās a thudding in your heart. Apprehension. Excitement.
āIs something wrong?ā
His words are light, you canāt sense any malice, but his voice still gives you chills. Had he seen you glancing at the door? Were you smiling? Did you look too happy? Too excited?
āItās nothing,ā You finally manage to cough out, āhow was your day?ā
Satoru hums, āGood, a little exhausting. The students have been running me ragged all day. They're getting stronger and stronger by the minute. It's a little scary, now.ā
Heās rambling. Thatās good. It meant he was relaxed. Eased enough to talk to you about trivial stupid stuff. That meantĀ Satoru didn't know.Ā
Or maybe he did and this was all his way of lulling you into a fake sense of security. Was he baiting you? Acting all careless and docile just so he can pounce the second you make a mistake?
He glances at your bowl. "You done?"
You realize how empty your dish is. You hadn't remembered taking a single bite.
"Yeah, you?"
"Licked clean."Ā Satoru lazily grins and you manage a smile. "Here, I can take 'em."
He carefully reaches over to grab the dirty dishes, ambling towards the kitchen. You listen to the sounds of water running, a clatter of plates and utensils. He's not watching right now, you think as your eyes slide open to the unlatched door. It was like it was taunting you. How quiet would you have to be? Would your chair make a noise if you stood up? Would the floorboards betray you?Ā
And then, you think of how difficult things got the last time you got out. The first time. The chains were brought back, the endless lectures and sensory deprivation. Why would you want a chance for it to go back like that?Ā
You barely flinch when a hand drifts to your shoulders. Warm lips meet your neck.Ā
"Come to bed," Satoru mumbles into your skin. His voice is soft and dull. It's not a request.
You hum, standing up to follow him. The chair scrapes against the wood. Every so often, a floorboard below would squeak.Ā
Perhaps it was a bit naĆÆve to think you'd be left alone tonight. He'd been so docile, up until that pointing, greeting you with a chaste kiss and nothing more. Still, you don't expect the hands under your shirt, the bite on your neck.
You don't hesitate. It's just a pause. An error.
"...I thought you said you were exhausted," You remind him but you don't fight when he backs you up against the bed.Ā
Satoru hums into your neck. He sucks in your breath, inhaling your scent.Ā
"Changed my mind."
You don't say anything to that, maneuvering yourself into a position he wants. You lay back, allowing him to pin you against the soft mattress. He's not suffocating you, not like the first time when you were crying and scratching. The first time, when you realized this man wasn't entirely human, when he used to laugh at your pathetic attempts of escape. Soon, you realize that he retaliates only to what he's given. Play nice with Gojo Satoru, and he plays nice too.Ā
He's nice. Not kind. There's still a possessive edge to his touch when he grasps your thighs, pulling down your shorts to reveal cotton panties. He barely gets them off of you. You suppose you should be a little grateful. He ripped them apart the first few times.Ā
He gets a hiss from you then when his mouth finds the sensitive side of your neck, right where the skin meets the clavicle. Sharp teeth dig into your skin. In response you reach over, tugging his hair. It's the only retaliation you can ever really give him. Now, you know when to pick your battles.Ā
"Gentle." It's not a request, too soft. It's a barely comprehensible plea. He licks the wound in an apology. His next bite is softer, but just as marking.Ā
SatoruĀ forgets that sometimes. How fragile you are. Every so often, you'd have to remind him if your sobs already haven't. Even now, when his hands are already starting to tighten around your wrists again.Ā
Or maybe you're being too optimistic. Satoru doesn't forget. It's more like he loses control every so often, enough control that he crushes you. You don't know which explanation is more terrifying so you ignore it. His teeth make an excellent distraction, nibbling at your skin once again. Nicer. Nicer, not kinder.Ā
Sometime later you're able to slip off his glasses, folding them and placing them on the night table. You're fully naked now. Satoru's barely unbuttoned his shirt. You gasp when he kisses your breasts, squeezing and groping them.Ā
"Don't think I'm ever gonna get enough of you, baby," he groans.
You smile tersely. That's what you were afraid of.Ā
He trails his mouth down eventually. He's in no hurry, both of you know you have the entire night.Ā Your cunt is already dripping, practically ready for him, but he's known to drag things out-- make things more fun. Lithe fingers prod at your clit, hushing you when you give a sharp moan.Ā
Things always end the same. Nothing you experience here-in this bed filled with expensively soft satin- will ever be new. You're used to it, adapted. A part of you even enjoys the sensual touches, because fuckā Satoru's ridiculously good at what he does. Breaking you down, only to lift you back up to see him again.
You reach down just when his mouth meets your pussy. He savors you, his tongue moving painfully slowly at your folds, catching at your clit before starting over. You sigh, your body stiffening as you card fingers through his soft hair. It's always so malleable. You've seen the products he has in his shower, each more expensive than the last.
WhenĀ Satoru passes over your clit for the third time, barely touching, you know he wants you to beg for it. He's needy like that.
āSatoru,ā you plead anyway, your voice weak and pliant and his, āI want it.ā
āWhat?ā he pulls away, peering up at you, āWhat do you want, pretty girl?ā
You don't hesitate. The you, a century ago, would have hated that. The you, a century ago, would have despised the pathetic bitch currently writhing underneath him. The you, a century ago, would have tried.Ā
But that was you a century ago. You're older now, maybe a little wiser too.Ā
āYou,ā you beg, āI want-want you to make me cum.ā
It's all he needs to stop playing coy. He ducks back, grinding his tongue on your clit, before sinking toĀ slurpĀ at your leaking hole. He's messy with it, might even be louder than you, with the way he moans into your pussy. Sometimes, you wonder if this is more for him than for you. If he always wanted a place to worship, be beneath than.Ā
Soon, your mind shuts off as his tongue meets the tangle of nerves again. You're moaning, letting yourself arch your back, feeling the pleasure flood your body. It's easy to forget where you are, who you're with. Satoru's like a drug in these moments, easily washing away your anxiety andĀ hatred,Ā just to replace it all with him.Ā
When you tug at his hair, his voice of approval rumbles through you and it's almost enough to push you off that edge. He keeps you there, right at the cliff, letting your voice get more and more delirious and ruined.Ā
"Come on, gorgeous," he says, voice muffled and damp, "almost there for me."Ā
It's a slow build-up, heavy, unburdened, but it's just as powerful. You hit your peak just as he lavishes your clit with his tongue. He holds you down by your thighs, letting you grind against his face as you whine out his name in a broken sobs. He finally releases you when the first pangs of overstimulation make you jolt, when your tugging gets a lot more insistent. Even then, you'd be a fool to assume he left you because you were asking him to.Ā
He's so pretty like this, you think dazed. Hovering over you, his soft hair like a halo, lips pink and wet with the essence of you. It'd be foolish to compare him to an angel. He's more like God.Ā
"Fuck," he breathes, "look at you."Ā
When Satoru bends down, the kiss is sweet. Gentle. Loving. You let yourself enjoy it. His love is suffocating, but sometimes it's just enough.Ā
He sits up, letting you up too. His favorite position is you in his lap. You think it has to do with his desire to be controlled, to rescind his power, for someone else to do the work for once. Just a little. When you're on top of him, he's giving some of it away.Ā
He sits with you, back up and straight, face close to your chest. He's not willing to give away all the control.Ā
Every part of him is beautiful, his cock is no exception. Flushed and already leaking at the tip. Your hands are cold. When you go to touch, he hisses.Ā
It's nice to have reminders that he's still human.Ā
"Sorry," you say. He swallows your hand with his own, keeping it there.Ā Satoru's always been so enthralled by suffering. Whether it's yours or his.Ā
Your pussy is dripping again, creating a stain on his jeans. Your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, steadying yourself. His shirt feels expensive to the touch, you wonder if he'll get upset if you rip it. Maybe he'd laugh. He always said he liked it when you were unpredictable. You always thought it was so unfair whenever he was clothed and you weren't.Ā
He leads you down, hands on either side of your hip. You lean back as you feel the stretch, deeper and deeper. Like instinct, your pussy tightens like a vice. He sucks air through his teeth.Ā
"So fucking good." He leans forward, head buried in your chest. His lips find one of your nipples. "You're always so fucking good, pretty girl. How did I get so lucky?"Ā
It's between a laugh and a gasp when he sinks into you, right to the hilt. You stay like that for a moment, listening to him breathe in. And out. And in. You think he might like this more than any actual movement. The intimacy, rather than the sensual nature of it.Ā
His impatience overrides his desire eventually. He rolls his hips into you. Slow. Steady. Already you're starting to feel it. You hum through your lips when he gropes your chest mindlessly, like touching you is just an afterthought.Ā
It takes another muffled whimper before he starts to pay attention to your face. He gives a harsh thrust, leaving you gasping, before he leans up to kiss the corner of your mouth.Ā
"You're a little quiet," he mutters, tasting the skin on your jaw. He licks. You shiver.Ā
"Oh?" You ask, though it's mid-moan. You can feel him smile.Ā
"Hm," he agrees, kissing you at the throat, before grabbing your hips again to go a little faster, "Like it though. Means there's more of you to break."Ā
You don't know what he means by that. You're probably better off not knowing, closing your eyes gripping his shoulders and pretending he isn't what he says he is.Ā
You're so close that your clit grinds on his skin, sending sparks up and through you. You try to lean back, trying to alleviate just how much it is, but Satoru doesn't let you. He follows you immediately, letting you lose your balance and fall right into the bed with him on top of you.Ā
"Satoru I-" you get cut off by the pressure, practically babbling, trying to get your words out even if you can't understand them yourself.Ā
He laughs into the crook of your neck, reaching down to rub at your clit. "This what you need?"Ā
"It's-it's not-Satoru-"Ā
He practically growls at your sob, hiking your leg up to his waist so he can poundĀ that much deeper into you.Ā
"You-you can't-shit-Ā you can't get mad at me for going crazy when you're acting like that." He hisses, dark and vile, but he can barely contain himself either.Ā
The hand on your clit, the insistent fingers, ensures you go first. You spasm on his cock, milking him as your back arches and you let out this shameless whine that's soĀ needyĀ andĀ animalistic.Ā He keeps acting like he's that much better than you, but he's not too far behind. He clutches the back of your neck, kissing you so aggressively you can almost taste the blood.Ā
He falls apart beautifully above you, crashing and burning. You can barely recognize him cumming inside of you as he falls forward, sucking on your clavicle like he can hold himself back. Another mark you'll wear for tomorrow.Ā
You're still panting by the time he recovers. He's purring now, lavishing your broken body with languid kisses. You accept the affection gratefully, kissing him back when his lips meet yours.Ā
"I love you," he mumbles, satisfied, quiet, "I love you."
You hum, but you don't respond. Satoru never cared either way.
He doesn't pull out, you can feel his cock steadily hardening inside of you. You don't acknowledge it.Ā
No matter how many months you've been with him, you will never get over how beautiful he is.Ā
Especially now, when he lays right next to you, painfully still, eyes closed. It's a rarity to see him sleep. You don't think he ever does. His white hair drifts against his forehead, almost like a curtain of silk. His face is uncharacteristically plain. His smile is gone, if anything there's a hint of a frown.Ā
A part of you wants to touch. Reach out and feel the soft skin. Maybe then you'd understand what it was to be so beautiful. Maybe then you'd understand how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.Ā
In the end, you don't. Instead, you carefully unwrap himself from you. He stirs but doesn't awaken. You keep an eye on him until you're out of the bedroom door.Ā
The mornings are quieter than the evenings. You adhere to a schedule, just like you always have. Dishes need to be put away. The table needs to be reorganized. The mornings are a bit more freeing. As much as they can be. Satoru isn't so abusive. He'd recently gotten you a book you were interested in. The TV still worked. Most mornings, you'd make you and him a cup of tea. You'd sit on the couch, swathed in a blanket.Ā
Most mornings, he was here with you. He's not humanĀ you're not sure what he wasĀ but he likes to pretend that he is. Mornings would be a play of domesticity. Both of you mutually working towards an idea of breakfast. You'd listen on as he'd prattle about things that shouldn't really matter, but they do, at least to him. Years later, you think you understand why he's so obsessed with normalcy. To a man who could be described as a God, monotomous work must be a delicacy.Ā
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked.Ā
You can see it right from the kitchen. Still untouched from last night, the security screen happily chirping. It was just across the hall, less than a few steps away. If you wanted to, you could crawl to it. How easy would it be to step outside?Ā
You've been reminded of your mortality before. The first time wasn't due to Satoru. You were a kid, barely a teenager. Playing by a lack, balancing on a log before you had slipped, and nearly drowned. You woke in the hospital a day later. There's still a scar on your upper neck. Satoru kisses it sometimes.Ā
Being aware of your mortality with Satoru is constant. Akin to a coat, thin enough to not be hot, but you can still feel it cover your skin. The first time you left, he wasn't necessarily upset. More or less he was amused, as if you were a dog that had just found a way to sneak out to the backyard. As if the thought of you outsmarting him was laughable. There was no anger when he brought you back, gently kissing away the tears. The following days were intense, the air was suffocating. He was careful about the fire escape now. Maybe, back then, he didn't think you were so desperate. You know what they say about wild animals.
You weren't a wild animal anymore. You were a tamed rabbit.
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked.Ā
You think you'd go home. Not your old home, that apartment in the middle of the city, cramped yet with too little time to do anything about it. You'd go to your parent's house. You'd collapse into your mother's arms. You'd clutch onto your father. You'd squeeze your siblings to death. You'd eat warm food-your mother's cooking. Somehow, you'd convince your entire family to abandon their fluffy mattresses and sleep in the living room. Together.Ā
Perhaps, you'd enjoy the city. You never once saw the beauty in it, not until you were locked in this penthouse. Nowadays you find yourself staring out the window for hours, looking at the twinkling lights. Maybe you could be part of the crowd again, slipping through the cracks of being average. You could visit that cafe you'd been meaning to go to but never fully checked out. You'd pay for overpriced food, and drink cold sweet drinks that burned the back of your throat. Strangers would be all around you. You'd never know the meaning of silence ever again.Ā
You shouldn't think like that. It's ridiculous. It's cruel to hope. Nothing regarding Satoru is ever that easy. It's a trap. Another sick game he wants you to play because he's bored or he's testing you or just because he can and he will.Ā
But Satoru isn't here, and the door is unlocked.Ā
You keep the sink running because it's noisy; because you're hoping it's loud enough to cover your footsteps. Would be that easy? Has it ever been that easy? The bedroom door is still closed. The front door remains unlocked.Ā
You take one step where you know you're not supposed to. And then you wait.Ā
Heaven doesn't fall. There's no explosion, no heat, no flame, no pain. There's nothing. Just the sound of water collecting in the sink.Ā
You take another. It's even smaller. But less hesitant.Ā
You take another-
"Good morning!"Ā
His voice is always so soft and warm, but it makes you jump. Satoru appears right as you close the tap, done with the dishes. He's not wearing his glasses, nor does he wear his blindfold. He comes as Satoru, grinning down at you.Ā
You expect the kiss on your forehead. "Why weren't you there when I woke up?" You can hear the pout in his voice.Ā
You shrug, a small hesitant smile on your lips. "Hungry? I was thinking aboutĀ crĆŖpesĀ this morning."Ā
"Fancy," Satoru muses. Another kiss on your temple before he's moving away. "We got everything for it?"Ā
You hum, focusing on the sink. The droplets of water. You will yourself not think about your sinking heart, falling down and down and down into your stomach.Ā
"Oh, would you look at that?" You jump at his words. He sounds just as cheery as always.
When you turn around his gaze is locked on the front door. It's still unlocked.Ā
A laugh escapes his throat. Light and airy but it doesn't help your darkened look. If anything, it makes it worse.Ā
"Looks like I forgot to lock the door last night. I'm so forgetful, sometimes." He complains despite you both knowing the truth.
His footsteps are so loud. Why are they so loud? Why can you hear them rupture your ears?
"Guess we got lucky. Who knows who could've gotten in."Ā The lock clicks shut.Ā
Immediately, you burst into sobs.Ā
It's ugly. Pitiful. The kind that makes you sink to your knees because your emotions are too much. Your relief is too much. It's too much. It's too much because you knew. You knew what it was and yet you were so so close. The relief is there, but the fear if he had taken one more minute, two more seconds.Ā
He's there as always. Stooping to your level, taking you within his arms. You don't fight. You never fight. You allow your head to rest against his shoulder, uncaring if your tears soak his expensive shirt. His constant words ofĀ you're okay you're okayĀ are supposed to be comfort. So are his warm hands, sinking into your clammy skin. You could almost believe his sincerity. It would be so easy to.Ā
Warnings: yandere themes, dark content, brief dismemberment and decapitation, slightly! suggestive themes, this is a bit more disturbing than the usual drabbles.
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Even after having its head cut off, a cockroach can still live for weeks.
In the realm of human experience, such possibilities remain elusive, don't they? Accounts exist of severed heads briefly retaining a semblance of awareness post-decapitation, but these moments are fleeting. Anne Boleyn, in her tragic fate, reportedly endeavored to utter words even after the final severance of her head.
In the solemn mantle of 'doctor,' he grapples with a profound shame, unable to fulfill the modest duty of cradling your weary head with steadfast care. In a fleeting moment, your severed head retains a semblance of near-perfection, its skin delicately unmarred and faintly plumpāa ghostly echo of the vitality that once defined you. Yet, in the present, that very skin has turned sallow and yielding, a muted shade of grey with a disquieting ooze that begins to seep from the surface, a macabre testament to the irreversible transformation. Your eyes and nose, once animated, now undergo a withering contraction with each relentless passage of time.
The remnants of your being began a slow decay, a process accelerated by his unwarranted handling of your lifeless form. Perhaps an innate urge, sparked by the longing to cradle you, led him to explore a more intimate and unsettling communion with your departed vesselāan admission he shrouds in reluctance and shame. In the cadence of decay, the scent grew more pronounced, prompting the necessity to relocate your form from the bedside to the somber embrace of the basement. Yet, amid the unsettling fragrance, his commitment to tending to your well-being remains unwavering.
In his disappointment and a touch of trepidation, he grappled with the intricate nature of preserving such a complex essence. Fear crept in, a spectral whisper, as he dreaded the possibility of further diminishing you, afraid that your form might dissolve or be marred into an unrecognizable semblance.
But it's really too bad.
If only he could have prolonged your existence by a mere few weeks, perhaps then he might have unraveled the intricacies at a more measured pace, rather than frantically attempting to mend everything in haste. Alas, you are but human, and once the tether between your consciousness and corporeal form is severed, the finality is swift and absolute.
Perhaps, nestled in a frigid embrace, your form could languish within an ice-filled vessel, a bid to arrest the relentless march of time. Alternatively, delicate sutures might weave a tapestry, seeking to reunite the disparate fragments of your being. Could amalgamating borrowed limbs lend stability to your fragile existence? Or perhaps, in surrender to irretrievable loss, salvage could be found in repurposing the remnants of your skin and organs, reserving a tender preservation solely for the sanctuary of your heart and mind.
Thinking about those yanderes who play the good guy ā those yanderes who play it slow and safe ā who take their sweet time gaining their darling's trustā¦
That calculative yandere who views his darling as not something to ownĀ but to earnĀ ā like a sweet-deserved prize he can taste on his tongue right before barreling over the finish line ā all eager thrill and heart-blown triumph and such sweet bliss once he's crossed it, out of breath and forgetting everything else in the world.
Oh, and he's been soĀ goodĀ ā so fuckingĀ perfectĀ these last months āĀ the bestĀ ā all according to plan āĀ and now heās finally going to get aĀ taste,Ā that victorious tasteĀ ā allowed to bask in it, to roll it around his tongue,Ā run it through his teethĀ ā finally feel it between his hands,Ā rake and dig his fingers into it and never let it go.Ā
Heās been sweet and soft and kind ā soĀ well-behaved āĀ soĀ boyfriendly āĀ acting like the two of you were slowly getting to know each other even when he already knows you better than yourself.Ā Youāre so cuteĀ ā every single squishy detail about you isĀ just soĀ cute.
He can barely hold it together, nearly shaking in vigor as you position yourself on his lap when the credits to the movie youād been watching started rolling ā soft music playing sweetly in the background ā black screen throwing the room into anĀ intimate dark, one that calls for certain things you do in the night, and hopefully dark enough to hide what positively red rouge tinted his cheeks as he felt you press down on where something was sleeping beneath the layers of his clothes.
He was beyond ready, beyondĀ starvingĀ ā hands so very frigid yet still with a practiced touch remained steady and deceptively calm as he placed them on your hips, grabbing onto the ample soft skin found at your waist ā suppressing the urge toĀ squeezeĀ and settling for slowly messaging in careful meandering strokes instead.Ā
Even though he felt likeĀ attackingĀ ā like pouncing and trapping, like ripping clothes off āĀ he knew that wasn't the way to win. No, he couldnāt let the mask slip ā needs to keep playing the role.
His hand stirred again, ascending,Ā perhaps too wantonlyĀ ā but you didn't seem to mind as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear ā feeling his labored finger-pads trace your jaw, swiping over your lips, cupping your chin, pressing into the plump squishy flesh of your cheeks, making you pout.Ā
He couldn't hold back the impulse that sent his tongue to swipe over his lip but quickly found a way to save himself. Asking,Ā āAre you ready?āĀ as though actually giving you a choiceĀ ā voice as calm as he could muster, trying to withhold the strained timber of hormones that fought so badly to be satiated.
āIām ready.āĀ You say weakly ā head bowed to look at him with eyes big and glorious.
He tilted his head to the side, pulling you in with a gracious touch when leaning forward to kill the space between your lips ā smoothly brushing his stiff lips against your pillowy-soft ones ā slightly parting to receive another greeting, and again and again with more and more pressure for every meeting, quite like the increasing drumming of your pulse.Ā
He pulled away to search your eyes, suddenly realizing his hand had slipped to wrap around your neck ā but all that stared back at him were eyes full of trust āĀ a look he couldn't help but want toĀ devour. Youāre so cute,Ā so cute, so cute, cute,Ā cuteā¦
He pushed his lips back onto yours, kissing you more earnestly and desperately than before.Ā
The arm kept around your waist moved, also in favor of rising to head level, gently cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. Letting out a ragged groan when prying your mouth open.
You leaned away from the sudden boyish hunger, but his tongue slipped inside your mouth and tangled with yours anyway ā making you go still as a statue until you let slip a tiny meager whimper.Ā
He gently rubbed your cheek at the sound ā still holding you close with his words hotly purred on your lips, āShh, Pumpkin āĀ I wonātĀ bite.āĀ
There was a look in his eyes you didnāt recognize ā pooling with a predatory heat that caused a surprisinglyĀ pleasantĀ shiver to slide up your spine, though not withholding the squeal of panic as he spun the two of you around and dropping you carefully on your back.
Now looming above you, with tenfold more control of what he had earlier.
His index finger stroked your chin before raising it for you to look up at him... or maybe for him to look down at you ā enjoying the sight of you in all your flushed and bashful glory.Ā
Itās a different feeling than seeing you smile and laugh, different from looking at you in the hope youād look back at him ā no longer chasing but having his preyĀ caught,Ā ready to sink his teeth in.Ā
His other hand stroked a wisp of hair behind your ear as the locks had gone wild in the tumble, yet again groping your face as he leaned in closer.Ā
He pressed his lips against yours again ā and though surprised and with a heart beating like a hummingbird, you slid your own hand around his waist, the other tangled in the short locks at the back of his neck, legs climbing up his back, hooking over his hips and pulling him closer.
You felt his lips curl up into a smirk ā before he drew his mouth from yours in favor of kissing a trail of pecks down your jaw, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, drooling with such suppressed lust, he groaned into the dip between your shoulder and neck ā unsure if he could hold back once he started feeling the blood rush and pump, causing something to fatten in his slacks ā unsure if you were ready to take all that he wanted to give you ā unsure if you wereĀ willingĀ to give all he wanted toĀ take.
Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulative behaviors, heavily dialogue bc it's just mostly talking and gaslighting, college life, may be somewhat confusing but it's that story that is up to your interpretation!
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"[First Name]."
A sizable and gentle hand enfolds your wrist, eliciting a startled leap at the unexpected touch. Casting a curious glance over your shoulder, you discern the hand's ownerāa figure with a tousle of rich brown locks. The air on campus carries a lingering blend of pumpkin spice and damp rain, while vibrant leaves in hues of red, yellow, and orange blanket the cement walkway, creating a tapestry beneath your feet.
It was none other than your boyfriend, Asuka.
"Why do you keep ignoring me?"
In a hushed plea, etched with concern and confusion, he inquires, his pallid complexion a canvas for the anxious query. A delicate flush graces his cheeks and ears, a subtle scarlet trace, suggesting an earlier pursuit in an attempt to bridge the distance between you.
"Did I do something wrong..? If I did, then just tell me..."
A dance of confusion painted upon your countenance, a pirouette of bewilderment as you gracefully turned, aligning yourself to face him fully. Brows knitted in contemplation, coral lips drawn into a slender seam, your expression spoke the eloquence of perplexity.
"I'm not ignoring you though..?"
"You are..! You barely text me anymore and avoid me around the campus like I'm some sort of infectious disease.."
He spoke anew, his voice ascending to a higher pitch, an accusatory gaze fixated upon you as though your uttered words were mere echoes of deceit. His other hand delicately enveloped your wrist, creating a symmetrical hold that left you suspended in a still, unsettling equilibrium.
"No I'm not..? Asuka, we both have been busy and I can't spend all day messaging you."
In the chill of the season, you grapple with an awkward attempt at reasoning, noticing the warmth and clamminess of his hands. The contrast, his heated touch against your soft skin, sends an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. Asuka, momentarily lost in contemplation, lets his lips curve into a frown. In that moment, he resembles a kicked puppy, the weight of his next words settling heavily in the air.
"..Are you mad at me..?"
In a suspended breath, he momentarily halted, drawing nearer to you. Amidst the bustling backdrop of students hurrying to their classes, you couldn't help but wonder if curious gazes were directed your way, recognizing the peculiarity of your shared moment beneath the open sky.
"Are you still hung up about last time..? If that's the issue then I'm really sorry, and I've already apologized before...!"
As Asuka continued to speak, words flowed incessantly from his lips, a torrent of increasing urgency evident in the rapid cadence of his cherry-toned voice. A palpable hysteria seeped through his every syllable, mirroring the rising heat radiating from his fervent body. It was as though he embodied a ticking bomb, gradually approaching the brink of overheating, poised to unleash an explosive torrent of emotions.
"Hung up on what?"
Inquiring, you sought release, gently weaving your fingers to disentangle from his grasp, a delicate dance to temper the heat that enveloped. Yet, his clasp remained unyielding, an unspoken embrace refusing to relent.
"Hung up on that time when I was being unreasonable and it made both of us late to our classes."
"No..? Why would I be mad about something like that?"
In the labyrinth of his spoken thoughts, you weave a delicate tapestry, attempting to decipher the cryptic echoes of his mention of unreasonableness. Despite the elusive nature of clarity, you gracefully surrender to the intrigue, deciding to waltz within the enigmatic dance of his words, a willing participant in the artful play of understanding.
"No, there's something wrong but you just won't say it...."
Persistently, Asuka insists, and a subtle irritation blooms within you, despite your inner plea for calm. Yet, his next words delicately wound your heart with a touch of sorrow.
"Do you not love me anymore..?"
"What..?"
In incredulity, you queried, gazing at the young man whose eyes teetered on the brink of cascading tears. The threat lingered in the wells of his eyes, poised to spill over and trace the contours of his fevered cheeks. Yet he continues to rambled.
"Ha! Everything makes sense now. All that cold attitude, and you avoiding me everyday. You lost feelings for me, didn't you?"
His voice crescendoed, rising in both volume and pitch as he advanced, closing the distance until his face hovered mere inches from yours. In this intimate proximity, you couldn't help but sense the burgeoning awareness among fellow students, as they subtly turned their attention toward his unfolding, hysterical unraveling.
"Asuka, how can you say something like that?"
You try to calm him down, speaking in a much softer and calmer tone compared to the man, as if you were a mother trying to calm down a crying child.In the hushed cadence of your voice, a gentle river of reassurance flows, seeking to temper the tempest within him. Your words, soft and serene, weave through the tumult like a mother's lullaby, an attempt to pacify a sobbing child.
"You know...If you had just told me normally that you didn't like me anymore then I would have just accepted that as it is."
Yet, like whispers through the air, your words glide past him. Though a subtle calm embraces him, his voice, now a gentle breeze, unveils a softer cadence, a stark departure from the turbulent tone that had echoed before.
"But why'd you have to go ahead and treat me like that?"
He inquires, guiding your hand to caress the contours of his cheek, gently pressing it against the tender warmth of your palm as if seeking solace in its soft embrace.
"Asuka...I understand you're frustrated but I do love you, and I haven't stopped loving you.."
In hushed tones, your words tenderly caressed the air, coaxing him to nestle against your palm. With a gentle touch, you traced the padded side of your fingers across his cheeks, a soothing rhythm to quell the tempest within him. A graceful guidance led you both to a tranquil refuge, where a brown bench cradled the quietude. There were no other students in sight.
"It's just that, everything has been so stressful with finals and stuff....I swear, I'm not trying to ignore you."
You painted on a smile, and Asuka, with an intent ear, absorbed your words, as though orchestrating a delicate symphony of comprehension within the corridors of his mind.
"But how can I be so sure?"
Once you convince yourself of soothing the man's agitation, his voice resurfaces, posing a question that resonates within your chest, setting a subtle cadence to the rhythm of your heartbeat.
"That you're not just saying that, and that you actually mean it? That you still love me?"
In the quiet expanse of a moment, you pondered his words, delicately crafting a response to safeguard the delicate balance of his emotions. At last, your voice returned, accompanied by the gentle caress of your other hand, tracing a tender path beneath the canvas of his eyes.
"I do love you and you should already know that, Asuka."
Your words, like a subtle elixir, lingered momentarily before gracefully permeating his being. He surrendered to your touch, a gentle immersion into the warmth of your embrace, his grasp on your essence unwittingly tightening. Closer he drew, until the shared touch of both your knees wove a delicate closeness, an unspoken harmony.
"I do...?"
"Yes, you do."
In a graceful motion, you extended your arm, inviting the young man into an embrace willingly embraced. He leaned into your touch, his hand delicately finding its place on the small of your back, creating a tender connection. His body emanated warmth, reminiscent of an oven preheated for hours, yearning for the moment when it could be tenderly turned off. In that intimate embrace, moments stretched like delicate strands of time. His hands held firm against your waist, and his chin found solace upon your shoulders, a subtle dance of closeness. The air bore the comforting aroma of cinnamon and coffee, a fragrant reminder of his presence. As the embrace gently loosened, you parted, a reassuring smile gracing your lips.
"Then, it's settled? I promise to make more time for you, so don't go around thinking I don't love you anymore, alright?"
His countenance eased, a gentle nod painting the canvas of his expression. Where tears once traced delicate paths on his visage, they now evaporated, leaving behind a softened countenance. His lips, once adorned with the weight of sorrow, now curved into a tender smile.
"You promise?"
Once more, you inquire, drawing him into a tender embrace. Your hands cradle the back of his head, granting him the sanctuary to bury his face in the crook of your neck. Unmindful of the ticklish dance of his warm breath upon your skin, you remain oblivious to the subtle curvature of his lips into a contented grin. Nor do you discern the palpable brightening of his eyes, responding softly to your words.
Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, description of violence, I saw a video of orcas hunting and wanted to write something abt it, disturbing content.
+
"Marlin."
With a shaky voice, you called out to the merman lurking beneath the dark depths of the water. Your eyes danced wildly along the watery surface, desperately seeking a glimpse of him.
"Please come out. You're scaring me."
On hands and knees, you clung to the meager wooden surface that barely qualified as a makeshift raft, the sole lifeline between you and the vast expanse of the ocean. The survival itself was a stroke of fortune, remnants of a shipwreck etching haunting memories ā cannon balls piercing through ship walls, the frantic cries of the crew in a desperate quest for safety.
"Marlin!"
You attempt once more, your voice rising in volume and gaining a sharper edge. Splashes of water collide with the raft, showering your bare ankles. The once elegant gown, worn for your birthday celebration, now serves as your sole source of warmth. Your left thigh is wrapped in makeshift bandages fashioned from scattered scarves found amidst the vast sea. Slowly edging toward the raft's edge, you strained to peer through the dense water veil, only to be met with an impenetrable darkness that revealed nothing but a faint reflection of yourself. With eyes reddened, pallid skin, and hair beginning to knot after enduring two weeks adrift at sea, your physical state mirrored the harshness of your oceanic ordeal. The scent that clung to you was a noxious blend of fish and seaweed, the very sustenance provided by the merman. Surprisingly, you marveled at your resilience, having somehow endured the consumption of raw, uncooked meat without succumbing to its potentially fatal consequences.
Abruptly, a hand emerged from beneath the water, prompting you to swiftly retreat to the safety of the raft's center. The owner of the hand revealed himself to be none other than the merman, Merlin, whose expression conveyed clear disdain. His hand extended, torso flat against the raft's surface, and intense ocean eyes locked onto you.
"..M..Marlin."
He remains unresponsive to the sound of your name, his long blue tails faintly visible as they linger within the water. After a moment of uninterrupted gaze, he finally speaks, his voice flowing like a smooth seam of silk, captivating in its beauty. The sunlight above did little to forsake his beauty; instead, it gracefully highlighted his features, casting an enchanting aura that rendered him majestic, akin to a water nymph.
"Do you truly despise me that much?"
"What..?"
A bitter laugh escapes him as he withdraws his hand, crossing his elbow to rest his chin against his forearm. His dark hair cascades down, lightly sticking to his chin, a subtle dampness lingering. One can't help but marvel at how a being like him manages to thrive in the frigid waters, contemplating the preservation of his skin and hairāunchanged and undamaged, a testament to their enduring beauty.
"You've proven yourself quite clever, manipulating me into scavenging for food. Quite the strategist, aren't you?"
"I do not understand.."
Your brows furrow slightly at his words, perplexed by the notion that you might be using him to scavenge for food. After all, it was he who volunteered to assist you, the one who rescued you from the wreckage and gently placed your body onto the raft. During the night of the celebration, you discerned his presence beneath the water, catching a fleeting glimpse of his exquisite tail. Despite your observation, your crewmates dismissed him as a mere swordfish or dolphin, oblivious to the captivating mystery that lingered beneath the waves.
"You're exploiting me for your survival, only to abandon me once other humans come to your rescue, aren't you?"
"Certainly not! Once I set foot on solid ground, I am determined to find every possible way to express my gratitude for your kindness."
He scoffed at your words, finding your naivety simultaneously endearing and tinged with folly. Your captivating gaze drew him in, becoming the sole reason Marlin chose to rescue you amidst the entire ordeal. Although not inherently fond of humans, he found solace in the radiant brightness and warmth emanating from your eyesāa quality seldom witnessed through the eyes of pirates or the sailors he had encountered along his journey.
"Do you genuinely think fellow humans would permit such a scenario? If anything, they'll likely exploit that pretext as justification to pursue and hunt me down."
You dismiss his words with a subtle shake of your head, lips forming a tight line as you attempt to speak over him, any method to reason with him.
""Don't worry. I'll reassure them that you pose no threat. I can even persuade my father to consider implementing legislation concerning the pursuit of seamen!"
"My dearest human, it's not as straightforward as it may seem. Even if your father possessed the authority to enforce such a rule, do you believe those who exploit my kind for gain would genuinely adhere to it?"
"B..but it truly is!"
"It is not."
""Marlin, if you assist me in finding my way home, I am prepared to fulfill any wish or desire you may have forsaken. I give you my wordāI am willing to do anything."
Marlin fixed his gaze upon you, his laughter crackling as if your words were nothing more than a comedic jest. Your face flushed with embarrassment, the dignity befitting a lady tarnished and mocked amidst the vastness of the ocean. After a few moments, Marlin succeeded in stifling his laughter, pressing his head onto the wooden surface of the raft. He pushed himself up, grinning at you once more.
"Given your persistent stance and reluctance to reconsider, it appears you are determined to return to your modest homeland."
He inhales deeply, then eases himself off the raft, submerging more than half of his body in the sea. His head emerges as the sole visible part, and his long, dark hair ripples in the water, reminiscent of the seaweed depicted in the textbooks you frequently borrowed from the library.
"Well. You leave me with no other choice."
He gracefully plunges back into the water, his form seamlessly vanishing into the azure depths. Your fist tightens as you attempt to fathom his intent, but before clarity settles, he emerges near you. His tail propels a considerable amount of water, conjuring a substantial wave that gracefully cascades onto the raft, drenching everything. A surprised yelp escapes you as the water meets your palm, and you swiftly realize you're gradually sliding toward the edge.
You successfully maintain composure for most of the ordeal, believing his juvenile outburst had concluded. However, your apprehensions materialize as you witness him rapidly approaching, his tail propelling him through the water with increased speed. The waves generated this time are more substantial, causing the raft to sway significantly. As the waves hit and water infiltrates beneath the raft, your last semblance of remaining afloat teeters.
It's over.
A second scream escapes your throat as the waves crash around you. The raft, teetering slowly, slips from your grasp, and you plummet into the cold embrace of the ocean. The frigid water engulfs your senses as you struggle to stay afloat, the taste of salt seeping into your mouth and nose, inducing a stinging sensation. Despite the pain, your eyes stay open, but water bubbles cloud your vision, leaving you disoriented in the underwater turmoil.
"[First Name]."
Even as the water filled your ears, a cold hand firmly gripped your torso, preventing you from descending deeper into the ocean's depths. Through your hazed vision, a pair of bright blue eyes and a mop of dark hair came into view, confirming that it was Marlin who held you.
"..N...No..!"
Your attempts to speak result in nothing but muffled cries, your struggle to wriggle free and rise toward the air and sunlight impeded by his unrelenting grip. Your body yielded to an inexplicable force, surrendering to his control like an underwater puppet. In a fleeting instant, a sensation of cold and softness grazed your lips. Uncertain in your disoriented state, you couldn't be sure if it was Marlin's lips pressing against yours, but the moment lingered in a haze of confusion.
As time slipped away, the diminishing air began to weigh on you, involuntarily coaxing your mouth open and allowing water to seep into your lungs. Your ears, now entirely filled with water, rendered Marlin's words muffled and distant.
Observing your distress, Marlin placed an additional hand on your stomach. His fingers, accompanied by sharp nails, delicately traced along your bare skin, adding an unsettling dimension to your already harrowing struggle. As the sands of time trickled away, you strained to discern the letters, your grasp on survival slipping through the narrowing hourglass.
The first letter being, "I". You could feel Marlin pulling you deeper into the ocean.
The second letter being, "L". The salt in your lungs were too much to bear.
The third letter being, "O". You can't see a single thing, your vision being nothing but complete darkness.
The fourth letter being "V". Oh God, you're going to die.
Before comprehension could settle, your body succumbed, surrendering to the relentless force of the deep. As your consciousness slipped away, the haunting echo of those unfinished letters lingered in the underwater silence.
Paring: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).
A Continuation Of Nursle.
Word Count: 11.0k.
TW: Dub/Con, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Imprisonment, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Semi-Public Sex, Forced Marriage, Panic Attacks/Disassociation, Mentions of Stalking, and Nonchronological Timelines. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
You were never supposed to meet Geto Suguru.
Itād been a misstep in the never-ending trudge that was the cosmic timeline; a mistake on behalf of the universe that left you on the doorstep of his temple, glancing between the rustic entryway and the scrap of paper one of your studentās mothers had slipped into your hand a few weeks prior. āThey should be able to help with your little problem,ā sheād explained with a wink, a knowing glance towards your stiff shoulders, the dark bags under your eyes. āOne visit, and youāll feel like a teenager again.ā
Youād smiled politely and told her that youād give it a try and shoved her note into a drawer below your desk to be swiftly forgotten. You went to a doctor, then a chiropractor, then a psychologist, then briefly considered making an appointment with a fortune teller before finally relenting and deciding that you were, in fact, desperate enough for a miracle healer. It took three trains, two taxis, and more than a handful of helpful strangers, but youād arrived at the messily scrawled address in one piece. You could still turn around, try your luck with another specialist, another bottle of over-the-counter sleeping pills ā sane solutions that sane people fell back on when they encountered problems that sane people had. You could go back to your flat, your ever-growing pile of ungraded tests, and pretend youād never been here at all. You could do the thing that crazy, desperate people didnāt do, and you could leave.
You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and crossed into the entryway.
An attendant caught you as soon as youād stepped inside. He was male, middle-aged, wearing the most strained, plastered-on smile youād ever seen as he bowed his head to you. After a moment of nervous delay, you returned the gesture. āIāUh, a friend of mine pointed me in your direction,ā you stuttered out, doing your best to speak through your anxiety. āShe said your head priest couldā¦ā
You trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Thankfully, the attendant cut in before you could make yourself look like a complete moron. āGeto-sama?ā Impossibly, his smile widened even further. āYouāve come to the right place - heās a truly miraculous healer. Heās seeing another poor, suffering soul at the moment, but youāre free to wait outside of his sanctuary.ā
With a quick nod and a few words of thanks, you were swiftly taken to and abandoned in a small sitting room that, you could only guess, led into the innermost shrine. You sunk into a remarkably uncomfortable wooden chair and managed to sit still for all of three seconds before looking for your next distraction. Thankfully, it wasnāt hard to find.
Two girls sat on the other side of the room; sisters, you guessed, if not twins. One (Mimiko ā itād still be a few days before you learned her name) was perched on the edge of a chair identical to your own while the other (Nanako) sat cross-legged on the floor between her legs, fiddling with a hand-held console as her sister tried and failed to braid her hair. You couldnāt help yourself ā a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watched Mimiko clumsily fumble with the messily divided strands of hair, her frustration written clearly across her expression. Youād always been comfortable around kids, as much as you never wanted to have your own. You didnāt know much about healing priests or mystic illnesses, but you knew how to handle a struggling seven-year-old.
When she looked away from her work, seeming to notice you for the first time, you offered her a bright smile, a quick wave. āHaving a hard time?ā you asked, gesturing towards her messy handiwork. āI can show you a few tricks, if youād like.ā
There was a long moment of hesitation, a quick look shared with her sister. āI understand if you donāt trust my credentials, butā¦ā You fished out a few spare hair-ties out of your pocket: bright pink and adorned with equally garish bows, the color and design enough to make Nanakoās eyes light up. One of your more absent-minded students tended to forget hers, and youād gotten into the habit of carrying a healthy stockpile on her behalf. āI did bring my own supplies.ā
A few minutes later, you found yourself dutifully combing out Mimikoās hair while Nanako admired her new pigtails. They seemed reluctant to talk to you, but you did your best to make polite conversation ā well, as much as you could with two stand-offish grade schoolers. āAre you two waiting for someone?ā
Mimiko pursed her lips, but Nanako wasnāt so shy. āOur dad,ā she filled in, the kind of pride only an idealistic child could have for a parent heavy in her voice. āHe hates monkeys.ā
āOh.ā You did your best to sound surprised, rather than confused. āDoes he work for the temple?ā
āMhm ā heās really strong, and super important.ā She waited for you to num in acknowledgement, then went on. āYouāre here to see him, right? He can definitely help you, if you are.ā
Your hands faltered, a lock of Mimikoās hair slipping out of your loose hold. āYour fatherāsā¦ the head priest?ā
Nanako nodded enthusiastically, and for the first time, Mimiko chimed in, āHeāll probably get rid of your creepy friend.ā
This time, you stopped moving entirely. āIām sorry, my friend?ā
Mimiko glanced over her shoulder, moved to speak, but the screen door leading into the shrine slid open before she could answer you. It wasnāt an attendant, this time, but a man in monkās garb with hair that reached past his shoulders and a grin less strained but just as artificial as that of his attendants. Geto Suguru, although itād still be some time before you knew to call him that.
His dark eyes found you first, before moving to his daughters. āGirls,ā he started, tone more playful than chiding. āAre you bothering my guests?ā
The twins exchanged a long, weighty look before Nanako pushed herself to her feet and hurried to her fatherās side. With a sigh of mock exasperation, he leaned down, letting her whisper something into his ear as you rushed to finish Mimikoās braid. You couldnāt make out what she was saying, but it was enough to earn a pair of pursed lips from Suguru, a languid shake of his head. Without responding to her, he straightened his back, already ushering you inside. You took a deep breath, then followed him into the shrine.
He made no attempt to put on a show of false hospitality. Wordlessly, he left you loitering in the center of the very empty, very large room while he stepped onto a raised platform and collapsed onto his side, propping his elbow on a cushioned, stand-alone armrest. This time, when he sighed, it seemed to be out of a more genuine exhaustion, his eyes falling shut briefly as he propped his chin on his fist and brought his free hand to his temples. āI have to apologize for my daughters. If I could watch them constantly, it still wouldnāt be enough.ā He opened his eyes, and instantly, you felt the full weight of his stare. If it hadnāt been a feeling you were so used to, it mightāve been enough to send a chill down your spine. āNow, how can I be of service to you?ā
You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to fidget. āIāve been having trouble sleeping, lately. Thereās been this weight on my back, likeāā
āA stalker,ā you admitted. āBut, he passed a few months ago. There was an accident, andāā
This time, he cut you off with a snap of his fingers. It was brief, barely a flash of movement, but you caught something in the corner of your eye ā an amorphous shape perched above your right shoulder, a thousand eyes spotted across its baggy skin and a hundred curling tentacles wrapped around your arms, your chest, your stomach. You shut your eyes, winced, and when you opened them again, the creature was gone and Suguru held a small, pitch-black marble between his thumb and forefinger. He took a second to evaluate it before letting out an approving hum and bringing the marble to his lips, swallowing it whole. In your shock, it didnāt even occur to you to look away.
āThese things tend to linger.ā It was a meager explanation, but you accepted it whole-heartedly. For the first time in months, you were able to straighten your back, to drop your shoulders, to stand up without a single part of you crying out in protest. You mightāve cried, if you hadnāt been so relieved.
āThank you,ā you nearly gasped, bowing at the waist. āOh my god, Iā I donāt have much money, butāā
āOh, I couldnāt possibly ask for compensation. Consider thisāā A click of his tongue, a roll of his wrist. āāa favor between friends. The most I could ask for is a little of your time, in return.ā
You wouldāve given him your first-born child, if heād asked for it. āOf course, anything. I really canāt thank you enough, sir.ā
āItās justā Iāve been trying to find a tutor for my daughters for the longest time, and they already seem fond of you.ā For the first time since youād stepped into his shrine, he sat up, facing you directly. āI understand that youāre a teacher?ā
You left the temple a few minutes later, a new number programmed into your phone and a smile brighter than anything youād worn in years painted across your lips.
~
You moved in with Satoru the same day he met Himari ā as much being told to shove everything you couldnāt live without in a bag because you wouldnāt be coming back to your apartment could be called moving. You wouldāve fought it more, but heād been holding your daughter, and you couldnāt take that kind of risk with her. Not again.
Time seemed to pass in slow, thick clumps. Hours would pass in the blink of an eye and seconds would drag on and on and on until you couldnāt stand the idea of pretending you cared, anymore. A nursery was thrown together in one of Satoruās guestrooms. When you mentioned that youād never slept so far from her, Satoru cooed and kissed your cheek.
āItāll be alright, baby. Iāve got enough monitors to last ātill sheās eighteen. And, no offense, theyāre a little more reliable than what youāve been using.ā Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. āBesides, I donāt think youāll want her sharing a room with us.ā
Something pricked at the back of your throat. āI could sleep in here, withāā
āNope.ā He was kind enough to shut you down before you could so much as start to get your hopes up. āHonestly, she should count herself lucky Iām willing to share at all.ā
You couldnāt bring yourself to respond. Instead, you closed your eyes, and when you found the strength to open them again, the world was dark and your body was cold.
~
Once the novelty wore off, you fell into a steady routine. Once or twice a week, youād make the trip to Suguruās temple and do your best to drill seven yearsā worth of public education into Mimiko and Nanako while their father saw his unfortunate visitors. They were smart girls, even if they were more interested in your love life than multiplication tables, and when you thought about Suguru had done for you, you couldnāt say you minded spending a few hours of your weekend in a scenic, rural temple surrounded by Suguruās (sometimes off-putting, but never unpleasant) congregation.
It took two months before you saw Suguruās composure slip. Itād been a mistake ā an accident on your part as much as it was on his ā but you hadnāt thought of it in such fatalistic terms in the moment.
You kept your hands in your pockets as you wandered through the templeās courtyard, stretching your legs while the girls finished a worksheet on long division (chosen by Nanako over English contractions, much to Mimikoās protest). Idly, eager to give them as much time as you could, you made your way around the inner sanctumās perimeter, rounding a sharp corner before abruptly coming to a stop.
Geto sat on the edge of the raised porch, eyes closed and his shoulder braced against the side of a support beam. You moved to flee, to apologize for interrupting his meditation, but you noticed his hunched posture, his slightly parted lips, and let out a breath of a laugh, your panic fading into pity.
Ah, the poor thing.
He was so tired, heād fallen asleep sitting up.
As little as youād expected to see a grown man sleeping in public, you werenāt surprised. Suguru was always running himself ragged; either hosting guests or holding sermons or running errands on the templeās behalf, always coming back with a certain weight to his steps and an off-kilter quirk to his smile. With a sigh, you kneeled next to him and after a moment of hesitation, shrugged off your coat, taking care not to wake him as you draped it over his shoulders. Immediately, he relaxed ā an ounce of the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he slumped into himself. Youād considered waking him up, but decided against it. Your own months of sleepless nights and never-ending days were still fresh in your memory. You didnāt want to be the reason he missed out on a few precious minutes of much-needed rest.
You heard a screen door slide open, a high-pitched voice call your name from the other side of the temple. You pushed yourself to your feet, but paused, spared another glance toward Suguru. It was a stupid, spontaneous thing to do, you didnāt give yourself time to think better of it before brushing his bangs away from his face and pressing a kiss into his forehead ā the kind of kiss youād give to one of your students in the wake of scraped knees and playground arguments. When he failed to stir, you pulled back and crossed your arms over your chest, doing your best to keep yourself warm as you started back to where his girls were waiting for you.
~
Satoru was at your door as soon as the bell rang.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you mustāve known he wouldnāt give up old patterns so easily. He loitered in the hallway while your hyper-active students filtered out, slipped inside as the last of the stranglers did their best not to gawk at the inhumanely tall stranger with unnaturally white hair. By the time he crossed the threshold, you and Megumi were the only ones left, the latter dutifully waiting for his daily busy work at the corner of your desk.
Satoru acknowledged him with a click of his tongue, a quick ruffle to Megumiās hair before he moved onto you. āThereās my pretty girl,ā he half-said, half-sung as he slung an arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest. āHad you on my mind all day. Couldnāt stop wishinā I had your pretty tiāā
You cleared your throat into your hand, nodding pointedly towards Megumi. Satoruās grin faltered, then collapsed into a pursed-lipped frown. He didnāt say anything, but his thumb dug into your shoulder, his cruel eyes flickering to you over the dark lenses of his glasses. You didnāt need any further instruction. If Suguru taught you anything, itād been how to get rid of unwanted company.
āMegumi.ā You waved him toward you, and despite the mix of distrust and exasperation written clearly across his expression, he stepped forward. Still, you braced yourself before going on. As little as you wanted to associate him with Satoru, to blame him for what Satoru did to you, you hadnāt been able to meet his eyes all day. Whenever you looked at him, you couldnāt help but think about Himari, and whenever you thought about Himariā
āYou usually walk home with Tsumiki today, right?ā He didnāt, but you couldnāt think of a better excuse. Lately, it was all you could do to put one word in front of another, let alone actually manage to clear away enough of the thick, buzzing static clouding your mind to form an intelligent thought. āYou should really get going, before she starts to think you left without her.ā
His gaze dropped to the ground. He mumbled something just a breath below audible, and you forced yourself to smile. āIām sorry, what was that?ā
āI donāt want to leave you alone with him.ā His tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed. āHeāsā¦ Heās gross, and weird, and you shouldnāt talk to him.ā
If heād been any other kid, if Satoru had been any other adult, you mightāve laughed, chided him for speaking so rudely about his elders. Instead, you only sighed, your smile faltering as you brought a hand to his shoulder. āWeāre just going to have a little chat, thatās all. I promise, Iāll be just fine when we see each other tomorrow.ā You paused, lowered your voice into something playfully conspiratorial. āBetween you and me, I think heās pretty weird too. Thanks for looking out for me.ā
His scowl deepened, but he didnāt protest. After tossing one more glare in Satoruās direction, he trudged out of your classroom, letting the door slam behind him. You didnāt have time to feel relief or dread or much of anything before Satoru was on top of you ā his knee planted between your thighs, one of his hands groping at your waist while the other caught your chin, holding you in place while his lips crashed into yours, the kiss mess and open-mouthed and desperate. āThe bratās annoying,ā he muttered, as he pulled away. āBut I canāt say I donāt see where heās coming from. If youād been my teacher, I donāt think I wouldāve been able to stop myself from bending you over your desk ān earning a little extra credit.ā
A wave of nausea washed over you. You couldnāt stop yourself from buckling forward, but Satoru had already moved on, found his way to the side of your neck. āPlease, donāt talk about my students likeāā
Your voice gave out as he bit down ā burying his teeth in your throat in less of a love-bite and more of an effort to eat you alive. You barely managed to stop yourself from crying out, but panic quickly swallowed whatever pain you mightāve felt. Itād leave a mark, one you wouldnāt be able to hide, not completely. Against your will, your mind flashed to Megumi and, if youād been just a little weaker, you mightāve collapsed, passed out while Satoru lapped the blood now trickling down your throat. If youād been just a little luckier, you mightāve fallen apart entirely.
Your hands shot to his hair, and Satoru let out a throaty groan. His hands fell to your thighs, and before you could so much as think to struggle, you were laid across your desk, folders and worksheets pushed aside in favor of trapping your body underneath his. āAlways wanted to do this,ā he muttered into your shoulder, already pulling your skirt to your waist. āMight have to go into teaching, too ā just so you can return the favor.ā
He mightāve gone on, but you were done listening.
You would have to request a change of classroom, tomorrow morning.
~
Nanako returned your coat to you a week later, rolling on the balls of her feet and grinning from ear to ear.
You saw Suguru more often, after that.
Granted, not too often, and never for very long. He was still a busy man, and most of your interactions were limited to minute-long conversations as you found each other heading in the same direction, a few niceties exchanged as you dropped Nanako and Mimiko off at the door of his shrine. He never struck you as overly guarded, but you could count the number of times youād heard him speak about himself on a single hand. If it hadnāt been for his girls, you probably would never have learned his given name.
Winter had begun its swift and relentless approach, and you found yourself standing outside of the templeās gates, watching the sun slip below the horizon and debating if it would be worth it to cough up the cash for a taxi, rather than dragging yourself through the labyrinth that was public transportation in the dark. As you checked your phone for the dozenth time, you caught a flash of movement in your peripheral and glanced up only to find Suguru ā changed out of his monkās garb and into a plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants that made him look more like an exhausted college student than the head of his own temple. He nodded to you by way of greeting, and you flashed him a smile. āWaiting for someone?ā
āSomething like that.ā You looked back to your phone and sighed. āI might have to make our next session a little earlier. I forgot how dark it could get and, well, you know what itās like in the city.ā
You withered, but Suguru only brightened. āLet me give you a ride.ā
āAre you sure? Iād hate toāā
āPlease, (Y/n).ā You could see why he had such a dedicated congregation. When he spoke, it was impossible not to listen. āJust think of it as a favor between friends.ā
You wanted to refuse, to tell him not to waste his time, but a streetlamp buzzed to life somewhere above you and the last trace of your resolve crumbled. A few minutes later, you were in the back of a sleek, black car ā Suguru sitting next to you and his driver hidden behind a tinted partition. More time than you wouldāve liked passed in tense silence before you, more motivated by discomfort than gratitude, broke the quiet. āI was surprised when I found out Nanako and Mimiko were homeschooled.ā Before he could respond, you realized how it mustāve sounded and tried to backtrack. āNot that thereās anything wrong with that! Itās justāyouāre always so busy, and theyāre such bright girls. Iām sure that, if you ever did want to get them enrolled, theyād do very well. Itād free up a lot of your time, too.ā
You thought you saw him wince, but it couldāve just been a trick of the light. By the time you turned to face him properly, his expression was unreadable ā his lips pulled into a thin line and his dark eyes focused on some unseen point in the distance. āI probably shouldnāt be telling you this,ā he admitted, before letting an airy sigh. āButā¦ I made a lot of bad choices, when I first took them in. The were a bad situation, and I was young and stupid, and Iā I think I mightāve fucked things up. For them, at least. I probably wouldāve ended up in the same place eventually.ā Another sigh, a lengthy pause. When he went on, his tone was heavier, his usual confidence greatly diminished, if not absent entirely. āā¦you donāt think I made a mistake, do you?ā
You took a second to think, letting your eyes fall to your lap. āI donāt,ā you said, finally. āThe girls seem happy, and youāre providing for them. They wonāt have normal lives, butāā You hummed, shrugged. āWho does?ā
He seemed to relax, the harsh edges of his expression dulling. His eyes shifted to you. āYouāre not going to tell anyone, right?ā
This time, you didnāt hesitate at all, shaking your head with a slight smile. āConsider it,ā You let your tone dip into something teasing and secretive, raising your chin the way he tended to when talking to guests and members of his congregation. āa favor between friends.ā
Your showmanship earned a dry chuckle, a softened gaze. After a long beat, he asked, āWould you mind if I, uhā¦ā He trailed off, tugged at the collar of his shirt. āWould you mind if I tried something?ā
Now, it was your turn to laugh. Youād assumed he was in his mid-twenties, but he mustāve been younger ā he was acting like a teenager. āGo ahead, Suguru.ā
Despite your reassurance, he stalled for a few seconds before, more than a little stiltedly, bending at his waist and resting his head gingerly on your lap. It was an awkward position, the back of the car too cramped for him to lay down properly, but his eyes fell shut and after the initial shock faded, you could only smile, raising a hand and combing your fingers idly through his hair. When you pulled the elastic band holding his half-bun together out of place, letting his hair fall loose over your thighs, he didnāt protest, only going that much more limp on top of you.
You two stayed that way for the rest of the trip; his head in your lap, your finger carding through his hair, the only noise that of traffic and the occasional muted hum when your attention started to drift. It was only when his driver pulled onto the curb in front of your complex that Suguru raised his head, blinking himself back into consciousness. You turned to let yourself out, only to feel him take up one of your hands ā his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You didnāt have time to ask him what he was doing before you felt him cup your cheek, before you felt his mouth against yours.
The kiss was gentle but warm, shallow but lingering. He held you there, his lips barely yours, for a second, then another, before you snapped out of it and pulled away ā your disgust as immediate as it was it was self-concentrated. If Suguru felt the same way, he hid it well. You could only make out the slightest trace of hurt in the down-turned corners of his parted lips.
He started to say something, but you were already rushing to apologize. āIām sorry, Suguru. Youāre a sweet kid, but Iāmāā You forced yourself to laugh, the noise jolting and strained. āIām nearly twice your age.ā
He pursed his lips. āI donāt care how old you are.ā
āExactly.ā You shook your head, dragging a hand over your face. āIām so, so sorry. I shouldāve been more clear about, I donāt know,ā You gestured vaguely. āāeverything. And I should reallyāā
Again, you moved to leave, and again, he stopped you. This time, he caught you by the wrist. āIām not a kid.ā You tried to pull away from him, but his grip tightened. You felt something in your forearm begin to ache. āIf you donāt believe me, Iāll show you how serious I am.ā
āAbsolutely not.ā You pried the door open and jerked away from him just in time to stumble out of his car and onto the pavement. You saw his posture straighten, his body tense as if he was going to try to lunge at you, but mercifully, he mustāve thought better of it. His anger was, instead, focused entirely into his unblinking stare, and you did your best to speak in spite of the way his eyes burnt into your chest. āIā¦ I think it would be for the best if we didnāt see each other, for a while. Tell the girls Iām out of town, andāā You swallowed, dryly. āāI think you should get some rest, Suguru. You need it.ā
As awful as it made you feel, you slammed the door shut before he could respond. He didnāt try to chase you, but his car hadnāt moved by the time you made it to your flat. With your doors locked and your blinds pulled shut, you watched it until, hours after midnight, you nodded off.
He was gone when you woke up, and you could only hope heād be mature enough to mind his distance.
~
Satoruās face was buried between your thighs when you heard his phone ring, his hands curled around your thighs and your body perched on the edge of one of his rarely used marble counters. You wouldāve missed it entirely if youād been a little closer to the edge, if heād been just a little nosier as he moaned and grunted into your cunt, but you werenāt, and he wasnāt, and the sound of that melodic dial-tone cut through the haze like a knife through fog (relatively ineffective, but still violent enough to draw attention). You straightened as much as you could, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, gently. āSatoru, I thinkāā
āItās not important,ā he muttered against your thigh, drawing back just far enough to be audible. āās probably just the kids. They said they were coming over, butāā He flashed you a smile, bright eyes catching the light. āThey can wait ātill weāre done. I canāt just leave my pretty girl unsatisfied.ā
Immediately, the haze stiffened and shattered into a panic-inducing, heart-racing clarity. You straightened, cursed under your breath, but Satoru tongue was already lapping over your soaked slit, the bridge of his nose grinding against your clit as he all-but worshipped your pussy. This time, you didnāt tug, but pulled ā doing what little you could to pry him off of you, but all you earned was a throaty whine, his fingertips dug that much deeper into the plush of your ass. His tongue bullied its way past your clenching entrance, curling and thrusting, and it took everything you had not to snap your thighs shut around his head, not to give him what he wanted. āSatoru,ā you spat, using the same tone youād put on for a misbehaving student. āS-stop.ā
It was more of an instinct than a decision, more of a reflex than a choice, but either way, it didnāt seem to make a difference. With his eyes blearily focused on your expression, his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the last thing heād ever taste, he fucked you open with his tongue until your toes were curling, your legs twitching, your vision burning pure white in a way that made you wish you could give up on sight altogether. He nursed you through your climax until the last of your energy was spent before pushing himself to his feet and slamming his mouth into yours ā his teeth cutting into your lips and your taste heavy on his tongue. By the time he pulled away, you were panting and he was wearing that awful, careless grin. You never thought youād miss Suguruās calculated smile, and yet.
And yet.
You didnāt have time to be angry. The kids came first ā a thought that, if youād given yourself a chance to linger on it, wouldāve been more of a cause for concern. āGo clean yourself up, Iāll take care of the kitchen. Call them back as soon as youāre finished.ā
āI love it when you get bossy,ā he said, with a dreamy sigh. āItās hot in a, like, āput me over your knee and spank meā way, yāknow?ā
Your only response was a quick shake of your head, a repulsed curl of your lips. Satoru only laughed, pecking your cheek and burying his face in the crook of your neck. āTheyāll love you. Megumi likes to act shy, but he canāt shut up about you. Tsumikiāll just be ecstatic to have a baby sister,ā he mumbled into your throat. āYou wouldnāt break their hearts, would you?ā
It mightāve hurt less, if there hadnāt already been two little girls somewhere in Japan who knew that you absolutely would.
~
You called Suguru from the curb in front of your flat, your head in your hands and tears streaming openly down your cheeks. He let it ring once, twice, before answering. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, practically feel the smugness in his tone. āI thought we werenāt talking, dear?ā
You swallowed back another ragged sob. āItās back.ā
He was there within the hour ā alone, this time, no girls and no driver. You stayed where you were as he let himself into your flat, returning only a few minutes later with a thoughtful hum and a thin frown playing on his lips. āItās rare, but it does happen,ā he started, as he sat down next to you. He was dressed in street clothes, rather than his monkās garb. Somehow, that only made it more difficult to look at him. āParticularly restless spirits can lie dormant before reappearing stronger and more attached to their living host. A standard exorcism might no longer be enough to banish it.ā
You felt something heavy and pointed drop into the pit of your stomach. Calling it 'stronger' was an understatement ā you couldnāt believe something so massive, something so awful had ever been attached to you. When you let your mind wander, you could still see its dripping, pitch-black arms writhing over the walls and ceiling of your bedroom, still feel its countless eyes burning into you ā a hundred, no, a thousand times worse than itād been when Suguru had first sent it away. You buckled at the waist, burying your face in your knees, and Suguru rested a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your shoulder. You were thankful for the comfort, even if it wouldāve taken you another few weeks to completely forget the feeling of his hand around your wrist. āCan youā¦ā You cringed, shrunk into yourself. āCan you help?ā
āOh, absolutely.ā If heād been just a little more cocky, he wouldāve been purring. āBut Iām afraid itāll cost you more than a favor, this time.ā
āIāll do anything.ā
āI know.ā His hand went still, settling on your shoulder. āBut I need you to give me something, this time.ā
You didnāt hesitate. āAnything,ā you repeated, with all the desperation of a sinner laid bare before the altar. āPlease, Suguru. Anything.ā
āI need an heir.ā
You could practically feel your heart split open and shatter inside of you. āā¦an heir?ā
āFor the sake of my congregation,ā he said, like that explained anything. āWeāll have to get married first, of course. Youāll be taken care of until the childās born, and then, youāll be free to go.ā His hand fell to your own, squeezing gently. āOr to stay with us, if thatās what you prefer.ā
Any other time, the idea alone wouldāve been enough to make you sick. Any other day, you wouldāve told him that he could have anything, anything but that.
But, in the moment, all you could seem to think about was your flat and the monster inside of it. You felt yourself nod and, before you could take it back, heard Suguru laugh, felt his lips against your temple. āYouāre making the right choice,ā he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. āI love you.ā
You couldnāt bring yourself to say it back.
~
Tsumiki and Megumi were asleep in the guest room turned makeshift nursery. Megumi had been slow to warm, quick to hear Satoru introduce you as his āone and onlyā and assume the worst (which, to be fair, wasnāt exactly wrong), but Tsumiki hadnāt been so stand-offish, and ultimately, whatever concerns an eight year old could have for your safety crumbled under his sisterās desire to fawn over your newborn. You were glad. You didnāt want him to worry about you. That was a mistake youād made with Nanako and Mimiko. Youād let Suguru give them a reason to care if you left, and then, youād left.
Your gaze drifted to Himari. Sheād always loved attention (a trait you could only assume sheād inherited from her father), and sheād spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening basking in Tsumiki and Megumiās adoration. Currently, she was sitting in your lap, giggling and clapping her hands together as you idly bounced her on your knee. The sight alone was enough to make your heart soar ā any thoughts of Satoru and his wards fading into the background as you leaned forward and peppered her tiny face with kisses. It was a miracle that you loved her at all, let alone as much as you did. Pregnancy hadnāt been kind to you, and it wasnāt until the moment she was born that you could stand to think of yourself as a mother of a child, rather than just the incubator to a cultistās pipedream. Youād never wanted children, but now that you had one, you couldnāt imagine letting anything in the world take her away from you.
Maybe, if heād been a little kinder to her, if he hadnāt already had two daughters to spoil and adore, you mightāve been able to justify loving Himari less than you did, mightāve been able to leave her in his care when you pried a window open and fled in the middle of the night. Heād never been cruel to her, but no part of you believed that he wouldnāt have been if sheād failed to do what sheād been made for ā if your love for her hadnāt been enough to keep you by his side. Even if you hadnāt loved her at all, you still wouldāve taken her with you. No child deserved to be left in the care of a monster like Suguru.
You choose, deliberately, to only think about Himari, to tell yourself that you only ever had to think about Himari. You couldnāt afford to break your own heart a second time.
Choosing not to think about Megumi and Tsumiki proved more difficult.
~
It was a courthouse wedding, the ceremony little more than a few signatures and a hesitant ācongratulationsā from the officiant. Suguruās assistant ā a blonde woman who looked at you with equal parts sympathy and disgust ā acted as the witness. Suguru explained that, after your first child was born, there would be a more elaborate ceremony, something with rings and dresses and flowers that the girls could participate in. You were too dissociated to point out that there wasnāt supposed to be anything after the child was born, let alone something that would leave you that much more bound to him.
You expected him to take you back to your flat, or the villa on the outskirts of the city youād visited a handful of times when he couldnāt meet you at his temple, but instead, you found yourself standing in front of one of the tallest, brightest hotels youād ever seen. āIt is a special occasion,ā he said, as you stared blankly at the entrance. āI wouldnāt be a good husband if I didnāt spoil my wife now and then, right?ā
āPlease,ā you muttered, nearly under your breath. āDonāt call me that.ā
āWhatever you say, my love.ā His smile was giddier than youād ever seen it, amusement heavy in his voice. āLet me give you a hand.ā
The interior was no less agonizing than the exterior. You could feel a hundred pairs of eyes burning into you as you hung off Suruguās arm, your own legs too weak to be trusted to support you. Rather than relief, dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as he led you to your room ā a suite on the highest floor. You considered, briefly, trying to tell him that you were afraid of heights, but decided against it. Even in your own head, it sounded too childish to be believable, and you couldnāt imagine dragging this out for a second longer than it absolutely had to be.
You stepped into the room and were immediately reminded that Suguru had been the one to make the arrangements. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice on a velvet-cushioned ottoman. Bouquets of roses and their disembodied petals had been carefully spread across every possible surface ā painting the room with misshapen splotches of bright red. A colorless atrocity of white silk and lace had been laid across the king-sized bed. You got close enough to recognize it for what it was (bridal lingerie, veil and all) before turning away and collapsing onto the foot of the bed, your vision blurry and your heart racing.
You felt your mouth go dry, your throat tighten, but you forced yourself to speak. You wouldnāt have been able to stand the silence. āAm Iāā A pause, a distraught glance towards the monstrosity. āAm I supposed to wear that?ā
āI mightāve been a little overzealous,ā he admitted, stepping in front of you. Slowly, he lowered himself onto one knee, taking your hands in his. āIāll be gentle, if thatās what youāre worried about. The only thing I want you to feel is pleasure.ā He brought the underside of your wrist to his lips. āI love you.ā
You couldnāt be sure what it was. How sincere he sounded, maybe, or how young he looked kneeling in front of you, away from his temple and out of his costume. He kissed the back of your hand, and a ragged sob tore past your lips, all the tears you hadnāt been able to shed during the ceremony suddenly beading in the corners of your eyes. As you tried to keep them at bay with your free hand, Suguruās smile wavered, and for the first time that youād seen, fell away completely.
He posed the question softly, carefully. You wished he wouldāve been just a little more eager to break you. At least, then, you couldāve hated him for it. āā¦you really donāt want to do this, do you?ā
There was no point trying to lie. You shook your head and watched as Suguru deflated. His eyes had always been dark, but in that moment, you couldāve sworn theyād never seen any light at all.
Before you could brace yourself, his mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise. You tasted blood, felt his tongue rake over yours; whatever gentleness heād promised to show you little more than a distant fantasy. As his mouth moved against yours, his hand slipped under your dress ā two fingers dragging over your slit through your panties before his thumb found your clit through the thin material and he pushed a rough, impulsive pattern into the sensitive bud. You shrunk into yourself, your hands finding their way to his chest before you could stop yourself from trying to push him away, but Suguru didnāt seem to care, to notice. Your panties were torn away entirely, and like a man possessed, he fell back to his knees between your open legs and started to devour you whole.
Your thighs were pulled onto his shoulders, his hands curled around your hips as the flat of his tongue laved over your slit, teasing the entrance of your pussy and flicking over your clit. He alternated between tracing vague figure-eights into your cunt and lapping up the slick starting to drip from your poor, confused pussy ā your exhausted body eager to accept any affection Suguru had to show you, if you could even call what he was forcing onto your affection. You tried to reach for him, to pull him away from, but you failed to so much as make contact before he let out a near-violent snarl, calloused fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh as he pulled you that much closer, hauling your ass off the bed and leaving you on your back, your arms crossed over your face and your ankles crossed over his back. You sobbed openly, now, but your disparate cries were interrupted by cracked whimpers and half-swallowed mewls ā little, pathetic sounds you didnāt have the strength to suppress. Suguru didnāt stop. Honestly, you wouldāve been surprised if he could hear you at all over the sound of his own heady panting, of his tongue fucking into your now-soaked cunt.
You almost regretted not taking him back to your flat that first night ā when he kissed you like you were the most delicate thing in the world. If youād given in right away, he mightāve had the self-restraint to hold back. Or, to try to, at least.
One of his hands left your waist, falling low enough for the pad of his thumb to press into your clit. Messily, roughly, he toyed with the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue thrust shallowly into your cunt, curling and splitting apart the hot, clenching walls of your pussy. You felt a deep, full-chested moan reverberate up the length of your spine, and that was enough to leave you tumbling over the edge, to leave your thighs clenching around his head as you came undone on his tongue. He ate you out through the aftershocks, but didnāt stop - fucking you open with his tongue until youād stumbled through another climax, then another, a mix of slick and saliva soon coating his chin and staining the sheets below you. By the time he pulled away, you were crying not from despair, but overstimulation; pangs of pure heat searing your nerves and leaving your cunt aching for reprieve. You were only vaguely aware of the mattress dipping beside you, of his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you for what felt like the hundredth time. As his lips pressed into yours, you decided that, if tonight was the last time you ever had to kiss someone, it wouldnāt be so bad. Not when compared to the alternative.
āI love you,ā he mumbled, and then again as he pulled away, āI love you.ā
You didnāt respond. You couldnāt. Your voice felt like something you were no longer entitled to use; a vague concept thatād been placed at an inconceivable distance by some cruel deity. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Suguru bare his teeth in frustration. Your dress wasnāt so much removed as it was torn away from you, and you couldnāt help but wither without it. Modesty could only count so much when you could still see your arousal coating his lips, but still, it hurt.
With an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulled you into the center of the bed and haphazardly dragged his shirt over his head. You shouldnāt have been surprised. Youād seen his bare arms plenty of times, watched him lift Nanako and Mimiko clean off the ground without so much as a trace of strain, and yet, something inside of you still curled up and died as your eyes raked over his sculpted chest, the corded muscle that seemed to cover every inch of him. More out of shock than anything, you moved to sit up, to put some distance between yourself and a man who looked like he couldāve torn your head off your shoulders on a whim, but he was quick to stop you, to press a palm into your chest and force you back onto the bed. With his other hand, he dragged his pants down just far enough to free his cock and, instantly, whatever desolation you mightāve felt at the sight of his bare chest was multiplied ten-fold.
You didnāt realize you were shaking your head until you moved to speak, your voice shaking and small. āThatās not going toāā
āIt will.ā That authority ā that tone of absolute control ā was back in full force. Still, you couldnāt seem to make yourself believe him. āI wonāt stop until it does.ā
Your heart fell into your stomach as he dragged his swollen, leaking tip over your pussy ā the flushed head catching on your abused clit and drawing an airy whimper past your lips. He was, by far, the biggest man youād ever seen, let alone slept with. As if that wasnāt enough, he was already harder than you knew someone could be ā thick, pearly beads dripping from his tip and down his shaft, his more prominent veins almost pulsing as he aligned with your entrance. Even his balls were fucking huge.
Fit for a breeder, something vicious and awful whispered into the back of your mind. You tried to ignore it, but you couldnāt disagree.
Your eyes darted to his expression and met his, already blearily focused on you. You opened your mouth, but anything you mightāve said was stolen away from you as his hips bucked forward and he thrust into you, bottoming out in the same motion.
Youād been right, when youād tried to stop him.
He was going to kill you.
Already, he was too much. A fresh wave of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his cock threatened to tear you apart. Suguru let out a raspy groan, his head falling forward and he drew back, pulling out of you until only his head remained in your pussy only to snap his hip and bury himself that much deeper, only to stretch you that much further. āSee?ā One his hands fell to your lower stomach, the heel of his palm pressing into the soft flesh like he could feel the outline of his cock. He mightāve been able to. You were too scared to check. āYouāre a perfect fit.ā
There was another grunt, another breathy groan as he fell into an unsteady pace ā every thrust brutal and back-breaking. His hands found their way to the headboard, curling around its upper edge as he fucked into you. He didnāt so much find the right spot as find a way to hit every spot constantly, his cock filling your pussy to the brim, leaving you desperately trying to clench down around him to no avail. A high-pitched whine ā fractured and pathetic ā tore past your lips, and Suguru let out an airy chuckle. āNot gonna be able to get enough of this.ā His pubic bone scraped against your clit and you threw your head back, your back arching off of the mattress. Your sensitivity was rewarded with another laugh, a hand brought down just to grope idly at your chest. āI canāt let you out of my sight, from now own. I think Iāll lose my mind if I have to go a day without feeling this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.ā
It was hard to think, let alone piece two words together. Still, you managed to spit something out, fighting to speak above the sound of skin against skin, hips against hips. āB-but, you saidā the babyāā
āFuck the baby. Thisāā He slapped your clit, his touch harsh enough to make you cry out. āāis all mine.ā
A hand around your throat, a new brutality to his thrusts. His grip wasnāt tight, he wasnāt choking you, and yet, you couldnāt breathe, couldnāt move, couldnāt think about anything other than his cock and the feeling of your cunt being split open around it. āYouāre mine.ā If you hadnāt known better, you wouldāve thought he sounded relieved. āAnd you always will be.ā
Meeting Suguru had been a mistake. Asking for his help had been a mistake. Agreeing to this terrible deal had been a mistake.
But, cumming around his cock as that final possessive sentiment trickled past his lips was the biggest mistake youād ever made or ever would make, again.
Your cunt clamped down around him ā a vice around his cock. With your fists balled around satin sheets and your legs wrapped around his waist, your body convulsed underneath his, your pussy doing everything in its limited power to milk him dry. You heard Suguru curse under his breath, his hips pushing flush against yours as something thick and searing flooded into your cunt. What little managed to leak out around the base of his cock was caught with two fingers and forced back in; no drop wasted.
With a heavy exhale, Suguru dipped lower, his lips grazing over your cheek, then the curve of your neck. You shut your eyes, letting yourself deflate. It was over. No matter how you mightāve felt, no matter how much you mightāve wanted to crawl out of your skin, it was ovā
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled out of you, only to push back in; his rough, punishing pace only made slightly more bearably by the weight of his orgasm.
The next morning, youād wake up to Suguruās arm around your waist and a pregnancy test on the bedside table. Itād be too early to tell, but you wouldnāt bother to so much as open the box. Nothing couldāve kept Suguru from trying again, and again, and again in the days to follow.
Come to think of it, you couldnāt be sure if he ever stopped.
~
āHow long is this supposed to last?ā
Megumi and Tsumiki were walking a few yards ahead of you, stopping to stare into every other shop window before running ahead, and Himari was currently tucked against Satoruās chest, occupying herself with a thorough (albeit, mostly oral) investigation of the collar of his shirt. You couldnāt cook and Satoru refused to do much of anything before noon, so the only choice left was to chase after promises of crepe trucks and cafes. Your question earned a hum, a glance toward you, but not much more. As little as you liked about Satoru, you were thankful he had such an even temper. Suguru was never so slow to react.
āForever, preferably,ā he answered, with a slight shrug. āOr until I die, at least ā sorcerers have a pretty high mortality rate. Iām the best at what I do, but even the strongest ant gets crushed eventually.ā He paused, pressed a quick kiss into the top of Himariās head. āIāll make sure to leave a big trust fund, though. Youāre gonna be living off your daddy for a long, long time.ā
You let your eyes fall to the sidewalk. āYou donāt have to pretend you care about her. I know youāre only doing this because of him.ā
If heād denied it immediately, you wouldnāt have believed him. If heād sworn that Suguru had nothing to do with it, if heād dropped to his knees in front of you, if heād told you that he loved you, you wouldnāt have believed him. But, in the end, he only pursed his lips, his head lulling to the side as he considered it. āAt first, yeah,ā he admitted, tracing patterns into Himariās back. āI heard that heād gotten with someone andā¦ I got curious. I guess I was a little jealous.ā He paused, his tone abrupt going light and sheepish. āI mightāve gone a little overboard, in retrospect ā making the brats go to your school and following you around and all. I just wanted to see what kind of person could make Suguru go soft, but then I saw how you were with the little princessāā He lifted Himari above his head, grinning up at her while she spouted happy gibberish. āāand fell for you, head over heels. All I could think about was gathering you both up in my arms and takinā you home.ā
āYou make us sound like stray animals.ā
āI mean, you kind of are, right?ā You jutted your elbow into his side, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. āOkay, okay, youāre runaways. I didnāt know you were so pedantic, (Y/n).ā
Ā He slotted Himari against his hip, his attention momentarily falling away from her as he shot a quick, teasing smile in your direction. āI like you.ā His voice was soft, dull ā like he was saying something you didnāt already know. Like he was giving something away. āAnd I want you to stick around.ā
āIām sure Suguru wouldāve said the same thing.ā
āIām not like Suguru.ā He found your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. āI wouldnāt let you go so easily.ā
The man on his knees in front of you was older ā his hair receding and dotted with grey. A salaryman, you guessed, judging by his wrinkled suit, the ink stains on his sleeves. You couldnāt see his expression, not with his forehead pressed against the floor of Suguruās sanctuary, but you could hear the pain in his voice as he pled for Suguruās help, see the slight tremble in his shoulders. You didnāt have to assume the cause of his distress.
You couldnāt be sure when you started to see the spirits ā or, the curses, you mean. It mustāve been around the end of the first trimester; your little glimpses at crooked monsters and mangled beasts solidifying into full, unrelenting exposure. Suguru suggested (after heād finished celebrating what he would, later on, refer to as the best day of his life) that it might be a symptom of the pregnancy, that carrying a sorcererās child mayāve triggered some pocket of laden cursed energy buried inside of you, but you couldnāt help but think of it as some kind of cosmic punishment, even if you couldnāt begin to guess what you were being punished for.
It had to be a punishment, though. If it wasnāt, you wouldnāt be watching a small swarm of winged, imp-like creatures bite and scratch at the cowering salaryman, each swipe of their claws and nip of their pointed teeth enough to leave ragged, bloody stripes in his arms, his back. You felt bile rise into the back of your throat, but forced yourself not to shut your eyes, to keep your expression one of unbothered neutrality. Suguru would help him, just like he helped you.
As if by way of encouragement, you let your nails scrape over his scalp. After you started showing, the only job Suguru deemed you capable of was that of his new headrest. He took care of everything else ā petitioning for maternity leave, moving you out of your flat and into the villa he shared with his girls, rewriting every little aspect of your life to better the role youād inhabit for the next nine months: his pregnant wife. Currently, he was on his side, on leg bent at the knee and his head propped on your thighs, your fingers threaded through his hair. Youād cringed at the idea, at first, but Suguru insisted that it wouldnāt be an issue. The perks of leading your own cult, you guessed. No one could challenge his authority when he was the only authority they could possibly look to.
After a moment longer than you wouldāve liked, Suguru cut off the salarymanās incoherent rambling with a slight hum. Immediately, the salaryman fell silent, and Suguru let his head lull to the side, leaning into your palm. āManami,ā he started, addressing his assistant. Sheād been called in shortly after the salaryman made his entrance. āHow long has it been since our honored sponsorās last donation?ā
She glanced toward her tablet. āItāll be five months this week.ā
The salaryman scrambled to apologize. āIāIām sorry, my store went out of business, and Iāā
The corner of Suguruās lips quirked downward. The entirety of the swarm descended onto the salaryman before you could so much as flinch away.
To say they tore him apart would be an understatement. One second, he was there, bowing in front of you, and the next, little more scraps of fabric and disembodied viscera decorated the floor of the sanctuary. Suguru snapped his fingers and, in an instant, the creatures vanished ā leaving behind only gore and the thick stench of copper hanging in the stagnant air. Your hand stilled in Suguruās hair. You mightāve passed out, if youād been able to process what youād just watched.
Suguru took notice of your distress quickly. That, or he just wanted to bask in his kill more privately. āIf I could be alone with my wife for a moment, Manami.ā
Her eyes flickered to you, lingering for a moment before she bowed her head. āOf course, Geto-sama. Iāll fetch someone to clean up this mess.ā
Once she was gone, Suguru rolled onto his back, letting his eyes fall shut. āThese fucking monkeys,ā he sighed, with a shake of his head. āI swear, theyāll be the death of me. They canāt even seem to die without causing more trouble than theyāre worth.ā
āYou can control them?ā
āYouāre going to have to be more specific, dear.ā
āThe spirits.ā And then again, with more urgency, āYou can control them?ā
His exasperation was swiftly replaced with self-satisfaction so potent, you could nearly taste it. āWould you expect anything less from me? Only a handful are strong enough to be helpful, but even pests can be put to good use.ā
You felt like an idiot for asking. You felt like an idiot for having to ask, but you just couldnāt seem to stop yourself. āMy spirit. The one I came to you for.ā It felt like your tongue was coated in salt and ask. āWas he one of the stronger spirits?ā
A beat lapsed in silence, then another.
Finally, Suguru let out a long, raspy exhale and brought a hand to your stomach. āI hope itās a girl,ā he muttered, almost absent-mindedly. āI hope she looks just like you.ā
You took a single, stilted breath.
When you met your daughter a few months later, impossibly tiny and infinitely lovable and so agonizingly helpless, it would almost be a relief to see Suguruās face staring back at you.
~
āShe has your eyes.ā
You heard his voice before you saw his face, but you wouldāve known Suguru from aura alone. You froze in the doorway of the unlit nursery, searching for him in the darkness, but Suguru didnāt make himself hard to find.
āNot the color, but the shape.ā He was standing next to the cradle, a soft smile painted across his lips and your daughter in his arms. She was sleeping, and you were thankful for it. Youād kept Himari away from him as much as youād been able to in the weeks leading up to your escape, but even their minimal exposure had seemed crushing, at the time. Above all else, you never wanted your daughter to be able to recognize her fatherās face. āOh, but she must have my temperament. Iāve heard she rarely cries, even with nuisances like Satoru around.ā
Youād left your phone in the living room. Satoru wasnāt home and he wouldnāt be back until tomorrow morning, but maybe, if you screamed, someone would hear you. Maybe, youād be able to run while Suguru tore them apart, limb by limb.
In the end, it was all you could do to make yourself speak ā your voice thin and prone to catching in your throat. āGet out of my apartment.ā
āBut this isnāt your apartment, is it?ā With a quiet, hushing sound, he lowered Himari back into her cradle and turned to face you. āHonestly, if Iād known you were just going to run into another manās arms, I wouldāve been more careful with you. I wonder if youāll feel more loyal to your husband with a chain around your neck.ā
āYou manipulated me. You made me have a baāā
āI loved you.ā He cut you off with all the delicacy of a rusty knife sawing through flesh. āI do love you, even if Iām starting to question how much of it you deserve.ā
He stepped forward. You wanted to turn away from him, to run, but your body was uncooperative, too rigid to do anything more than shake as he came to stand in front of you. āCan you say it back to me? Just this once.ā He brought a hand to your cheek. āIāll forgive you for everything, if you do.ā
You tried to. Not for him, but for your daughter ā made expendable by her failure to keep you bound to Suguru. You tried to, but all that slipped past your parted lips was a wordless cry, torn and anguished and far from what heād asked for.
āNo?ā He feigned disappointment, letting out an airy sigh. āI guess thatās to be expected.ā
He took a deep breath, then rested his head against the dip of your shoulder. His hand fell to your stomach as he spoke into your skin.
āMaybe, after we have our second, youāll change your mind.ā
Bound by Moonlight [Yan!Long-distance boyfriend x Fem!Reader]
Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulative behaviors, the yapping goes crazy, slightly suggestive themes towards the end, victimization, gaslighting, etc.
+
"I think we should break up."
Yujin's eyes flickered open, awakening at the sound of your words. Slowly, his orbs focused on your face, and in a swift motion, he sat up from your lap. The warmth of your embrace briefly withdrew, leaving him staring into your eyes. He resembled a deer caught in the gaze of headlightsāfrozen, with a palpable sense of confusion enveloping him.
"What....?"
His lips could only muster that simple word, as though the syllables you had uttered before were alien, like an unexpected symphony he never fathomed hearing.
"I think...I think we should break up."
You summoned your courage and spoke once more, aiming for bluntness to conceal the cracks of fear hinting at your vulnerabilities. Inhaling deeply, you braced yourself, allowing your gaze to momentarily dance away from his hazel eyes, as if an invisible force compelled you to divert your attention, perhaps to shield yourself from the intensity within them.
"I just think...this long distance relationship isn't working out...."
"But, why?"
Yunjin's voice, a gentle inquiry, reached out to you, his fingers delicately intertwining with yours. The warmth of his palm brushed against your cold skin, creating a subtle contrast that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes flickered, teetering on the brink of tears, evoking a momentary pang of sympathy within you.
"I... I've done everything you told me to...I don't understand, [First Name]".
He spoke once more, drawing near until his face hovered just inches from yours, his breath gently caressing your cheeks. In that intimate proximity, the subtle fragrance of his cologne and the hint of peppermint gum enveloped you, creating an alluring blend that lingered in the air like a captivating spell.
"It's not you, Yujin. You're a great person and a wonderful boyfriend.. It's just that...."
In a brief pause, you step away, a fleeting attempt to distance yourself and reclaim mental clarity from Yujin's unsettling presence. However, he remains oblivious to the subtle cues of your discomfort, persistently closing the gap until your shoulder meets the unyielding warmth of his chest.
"It's just... it's just what?"
"I don't think I can live like this. I can't live to see my significant other only once a year, I can't live to talk to you through a phone."
In a rare display of vulnerability, your confession spilled forth, your voice delicately meek, a stark contrast to the depth of your emotions. A suspended hush enveloped the bedroom, the sole symphony being the distant echo of passing trains and the gentle hum of cars traversing the street. In the hush that followed, several minutes wrapped themselves around the scene before Yunjin's voice pierced the stillness. Astonishingly clear, his words resonated despite the recent brink of tears that had gripped him just moments before.
"Yes, you can."
His words shocked you for a moment, for its bluntness and coldness, contrasting the usual warm-hearted and kind Yujin.
"I've worked so hard for you. Worked so hard for us. Yet, you still want to walk away? After everything I've done for you?"
Your gaze remains locked on the wall opposite, your heart quickening its pace. It's a dance between fear and anxiety, the rhythmic thud resonating within you. You sense his gaze, a piercing intensity, as if it could solidify into a tangible force on the side of your face.
"[First Name]."
His words cut through the air, and you couldn't help but flinch visibly. Your name, once a melody on his lips, now escaped in a cold manner, a cadence foreign to your ears. It was a stark departure from the usual warmth that usually accompanied the utterance of your name, a departure from the loving tones and heartfelt renditions.
"Please look at me while I am talking to you."
With a momentary hesitation, you succumb to curiosity, your gaze slowly finding its way to him. Eyes meet in an unspoken exchange beneath the enchanting moonlight. Its gentle dance against his skin paints a paradox ā a cold expression softened by the lunar glow, rendering him unexpectedly youthful and almost innocent in appearance.
"I did everything for you. I make sure we have enough money to meet up, I take such good care of you. I cooked for you, I showered and washed you, I take care of you."
With every uttered sentence, his words sharpened, each syllable a dagger cutting through the air. Simultaneously, his grasp on your wrist tightened, the pressure escalating with the cadence of his spoken disdain.
"So I don't understand why you're being so cruel to me? Why you're breaking up with me over such a petty matter? You haven't lost anything, [First Name]. You never did anything to contribute to this relationship, it was all me. But now you're leaving me?"
Continuing with relentless determination, his other hand pressed firmly against your chest, orchestrating a forceful retreat onto the plush expanse of the bed. Your back met the yielding mattress, and despite your instinct to squirm away, he skillfully straddled you, asserting dominance.
In a calculated move, he corralled both your wrists to the sides of your head with his own, rendering any resistance futile. Despite your valiant effort to defy his control, the palpable strength gap between you two became an insurmountable force, leaving you entangled in a struggle where every ounce of resistance seemed to dissipate against his unwavering authority.
"Yujin...!"
Words escaped your trembling lips as you contorted beneath him, his weight bearing down, leaving scant room for escape.
Fear clung to you.
Yujin, known to you for over two years as a soft-spoken and cheerful soul, now morphed into an unsettling entity. His transformation invoked a visceral sense of terror, as though a stranger had replaced the person you thought you knew.
"You don't get a say in this relationship, [First Name]. You don't have the right to decide if we break up or not."
As your wrist gracefully ascended to the crown of your head, delicately supporting itself with a single hand, his deft touch traced a daring path beneath your shirt. A momentary stillness gripped you, an electric pause as his other hand stealthily ventured into the realm beneath fabric, enticing an involuntary pause in the cadence of time.
"Yujin....What are you doing?"
His hands ventured, exploring the contours of your form, causing a shiver to cascade through you as his touch ignited a delicate dance on your most sensitive terrain. In that fleeting moment, his gaze locked onto yours, revealing a hesitant flicker within his eyes, akin to a wavering candle casting uncertain shadows in the cold embrace of the night. Amidst this charged atmosphere, his hand remained suspended, a tantalizing pause in the symphony of sensations.
"Making you stay. Don't worry about catching the flight home tomorrow, I'll contact your family and tell them that you're going to be staying with me for a while."
Without a chance to voice your protest, he leaned in, planting a tender kiss on your lips. Your defenses crumbled, and your lips parted almost on autopilot, surrendering to the rhythmic dance of his tongue against yours. He momentarily withdraws, his eyes glazed and cheeks ablaze with a rosy hue. In the next heartbeat, he leans back in, not for a kiss, but to gently press his forehead against yours, as if sharing an intimate moment. Once more, he spoke, and this time, his voice cradled a returning tenderness, resurrecting the familiar cadence of Yujin that you both knew and held close to your heart.
"So please," he breathed the words, his nose gently brushing against yours in an affectionate caress. Despite the tenderness in his voice, the firmness of his grip on your wrist created a striking contrast. His fingers clamped down with such intensity that his nails seemed to embed themselves into your skin, as though afraid you might take flight like a liberated bird should he dare to release his hold.
Thinking about yanderes who know you better than anyone ever did. They know you better even than you know yourself, that's how in touch they are with your life.
I see them as the subtle types, the ones who would perhaps silently admire you from a safe distance. You look charming in the cafe you're sitting in, chatting away with a friend or two about some shared hobbies. He can't help but to stare, but it's only for a few moments! He knows better than to look for too long, he doesn't want to appear like some sort of creep now, does he? He sips on his drink quietly as his eyes ever so slightly go back and forth towards you and the door, ensuring a safe escape route, just in case things go south but they never do.
You're too lost in your own little bubble to notice him.
From that day onwards he starts to... Well, he's not sure how to put it into words.
It's natural for a person to have a crush but what he feels towards you is something much more intense to ever be in the realms of normalcy. If you've ever spoken two words with him would be a miracle but actually remembering him would be downright impossible because he is just not willing to show himself to you. He stalks all your social media, friends and family included. He is informed of where you went to school, your birthday, what jobs your estranged cousins may have. If you're the type to post stuff online, his life is made that much easier. He screenshots everything you post, no matter how silly and commits it all to memory in case he may need it.
If you don't, then it's a bit harder but he manages. He has a good head on his shoulders, even if that same head is telling him to stop doing this, this isn't right but his bleeding heart is screaming at him to please keep going, please, if I'm not keeping an eye on them 24/7 I think I might die.
No human being should ever know someone so intimately but he does not care. Even if you're not 100% in his life, he is content with whatever this is.
One day, he might grow a pair and properly introduce himself to you.
And it would be so cute if you got along just perfectly because you just so happen to like the same things too... He's always prepared.
ĖĖĖź° š ź± ššššššš ššššš (haikyuu), ššššššš ššššš šššššššš (moriarty the patriot), ššššššššš šššššš (genshin impact), šššš šššš (honkai star rail), ššššššš ššššššš (seraph of the end), ššššš ššššš ššš (bungo stray dogs), ššššš ššššššš (my hero academia)
Warnings: Yandere themes, description of abuse and reader being in pain (burning), fear, slight description of body parts, implied murder. can you believe the inspiration for this is the star from that Disney movie wish...
+
"It's not fair."
The entity standing in front of you,murmured gently, his hand clenching tightly as his eyes grew stern, echoing the firmness in his tone. In the velvety expanse where night unfolds its cosmic tapestry, a solitary wanderer emerges ā the wishing star. A fleeting celestial voyager, trailing stardust whispers across the ink-black canvas, igniting the dreams of earthly dreamers. The celestial glow of the moonlit sky tenderly embraced his form, casting a delicate shimmer upon his blond locks, revealing a subtle stain on his pristine white blouse, obscured yet perceptible in the soft illumination.
"I've heard of your heart's desire," The wishing star advanced toward you with measured grace, coaxing a subtle retreat from your stance as you hesitantly took a step backward.
"I worked so hard to grant your wishes."
He persisted, the palpable frustration resonating through his typically captivating voice. Bathed in the gentle moonlight, it cast an ethereal glow upon his figure. Drawing nearer, the blemishes on his shirt became increasingly conspicuousāa flickering, profound crimson, accompanied by a faint metallic scent that stirred a disquieting nausea within you.
A startled yelp slips from your lips as you inadvertently tumble over an unseen obstacle, causing you to descend onto a patch of grass with your back pressed against the earth's surface. Your hand makes unexpected contact with something wet and warm. The unmistakable scent of metal permeates the air, urging you to swiftly withdraw your hand from the liquid. It's only then that you come to the chilling realization within the darknessāit's a limb, specifically a recently severed hand, its surface glistening with fresh blood.
Your gaze turns back to the wishing star, now standing just a few feet in front of you. His shadow looms over, imparting an ominous presence, and he appears almost like a fading star, deprived of life and passion, slowly dimming in the celestial tapestry. Trembling with fear, you parted your lips to voice a protest, but no sound emerged, leaving the unspoken plea hanging in the tense air.
As the wishing star resumed speaking, its tone softened considerably, a gentle cadence imbuing its voice, which seemed to be nearly carried away by the night's gentle breeze.
"I've done so much for you, for you weak humans. Yet, I've received nothing in return."
Descending onto one knee, he crouched down, his pristine white pants marred by the hues of blood and dirt. Remarkably unfazed, he wore the stains with an air of indifference.
"Tell me, [First Name]. Do you think it's fair?"
You take a moment to contemplate his question, striving to formulate the optimal response that would genuinely satisfy him. However, the awareness lingers that he possesses a keen perception, able to discern any falsehood, as if he has the ability to see through every nuance.
"It's not fair," you stammer, your words echoing through the stillness of the night. The wishing star tilts his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
A twisted smile creeps across his lips, and the moonlight casts an eerie gleam in his eyes. "Good answer, my dear [First Name]."
"You're right, it's not fair."
He lingered in a brief pause, his eyes gently closing, as if grappling with thoughts, a silent struggle to restrain any inclination to cause harm.
"So tell me, [First Name]. Do you think I deserve to be compensated for my hard work? Will you be the one to grant my wish?"
His words crashed into you like an oncoming train, resonating through the corridors of your mind as you grapple to unravel their meaning. After a moment of contemplation, you nod hesitantly, yearning for nothing more than the swift conclusion of this situation, eager to retreat to the village with a mind cleansed of the perplexing events of the night.
"Good."
His smile, a deceptive play of pink lips stretched into a wide grin, sent a chill down your spine. Despite its apparent warmth, his eyes held an icy indifference, a contradiction that left an unsettling echo in the air. It was as if his smile danced to a different melody, a tune that aimed to soothe while his gaze remained aloof, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that begged unraveling. With an unexpected flourish, he delicately pressed a single finger to your forehead. A radiant, golden light emanated from his fingertips, enveloping you in a warmth that seemed to transcend the ordinary. In that moment, an enchanting weight settled upon you, as if the universe itself conspired to make your very essence denser beneath the gentle caress of his touch.
"W...wait..Callisto! What are youā"
As you mustered the courage to protest, his other hand extended, gently caressing your cheek with a touch that felt oddly comforting, as though it were a final offer of solace. The ambient light intensified, casting a surreal brilliance upon the surroundings, rendering the world too bright and eerily silent. Despite the fear coursing through you, there lingered an inexplicable sense of comfort emanating from both the radiant light and the tender graze of his touch. It was a paradoxical dance between apprehension and an oddly soothing presence that left you trapped in a disconcerting embrace of emotions.
In an instant, the beam of light against your forehead erupted, creating a deafening, bell-like resonance that reverberated for meters around. Your body, caught in the chaotic symphony, felt ablazeāno, it was as if fire had ignited everywhere. Desperation urged you to shift away, the searing sensation intensifying, yet his relentless grip forced you down onto the patch of grass. His two hands, like oppressive flames, pressed against you, melding your anguish with the burning world around you.
"No..!"
A piercing scream escapes your lips, the pitch climbing higher as you desperately attempt to roll and extinguish the flames enveloping you. Yet, the ethereal grip of Callisto pins you in place, rendering your frantic movements futile. Frozen in terror, the dance between your desperate cries and the consuming fire unfolds in a macabre symphony orchestrated by the relentless wishing star.
"I'm really sorry, [First Name]. It's going to feel painful at first, but once you wake up again. Everything will be for the better."
Callisto's voice, a haunting melody, softly echoed against the backdrop of your agonizing pleas. As you begged for relief from the erupting fire consuming your very flesh, his gentle tone contrasted with the visceral symphony of pain. With a tenderness that belied the horrors unfolding, his hand reached out, delicately caressing the side of your face, as if soothing the flames that danced upon your skin.
In the twilight of consciousness, as the world dissolved into an inky void and the torment on your body gradually subsided, you felt the celestial presence of the wishing star. One final utterance emerged from the cosmic depths, a whisper that cut through the fading echoes of your suffering, leaving an unsettling imprint on the precipice of darkness.
"As you awaken from your slumber, a transformation awaits youāa rebirth akin to a celestial metamorphosis. You shall emerge not just awakened but as a newfound star, destined to shine eternally in resplendent brilliance, a beacon of enduring beauty that transcends the mere confines of night."
Warnings: none? Angst kinda, Satoru is still hungover over first love; in flop era
+
Ephemeral - lasting for a very short time.
You were fully conscious that Gojo Satoru's sentiments towards you were sporadic. A phenomenon that would flourish in the darkest hours of the late night, only to fall apart in an instant during the daytime.
Delicate grazes of his soft lips across your neck as he speaks his words of "I love you." In the depth of the late night, he connects with you, his large hands wrapping around yours as he quietly confesses his feelings. Each time he moves his hips, the lingering odour of his white locks invades your senses and strands of hair brushing against your cheeks. You were the sole recipient of his admiration, affection, and love.
At least that is what you would like to believe.
You're a fool for permitting yourself to disintegrate and succumb beneath Satoru Gojo's declarations. You knew that everything he said about your dark locks and piercing eyes were nothing but adulation. You knew his feelings for you were never genuine, and that they were always focused elsewhere. It felt as though his ocean-filled eyes were penetrating completely through you, yet they never appeared to be peering at you squarely. It seemed like he was searching for someone elseāsomeone who was of greater significance than you.
His one and only.
The one he is perpetually in love with and will remain so for eternity. Perhaps you may have gone so far as to refer to this man as a curseāa persistent scourge on Satoru's life.
Suguru Geto.
An accessory that of Satoru's and your early years, a spectre that bridges the disparity between you and your love and serves as a remembrance of your adolescence. You momentarily emerged from your reverie, your brown eyes meeting Gojo's sapphire ones, and another kiss settled upon your lips.
āWhat are you thinking about?ā
With a look of curiosity that eventually turns into a subtle smirk, Satoru asks.
āMust be important if you're ignoring the Satoru Gojo.ā
His remarks make you chuckle a little bit, and you never find his haughtiness to be any less amusing.
ā..Ah, nothing. I must have been blanked out for no reason.ā
You reply, feeling Gojo shift somewhat and press you into the couch before leaning over you and planting another, longer kiss on your lips. His strong fingers encircled your waist as your chests were placed in close contact to one another. The way you melted in his embrace and the way your heart races, you nearly wonder if he could be sensing that? Who knows.
āWell, whatever it is. You should be focused on me.ā
With a gentle huff, he kissed you on the lower part of your throat, sending electrifying surges throughout your whole body. You could tell what he wanted when you noticed his one hand go from your waist and slightly slide under your shirt.
Maybe this situation is simply a fleeting phenomenon. Maybe this is merely an idyllic fantasy from which you longed to never awaken. Maybe Satoru saw just Geto in you, or it's possible he never noticed you at all.
But so what?
Even if it's only a momentary spark of love brought about by the attraction that exists between bodies that isn't intended to survive long, you'll take it. After all, you continued to have a chance to win his love now that Geto was out of the way, right?
I said headers. But who said they would be fancy? A writers gotta do what a writers gotta do
Yes In yandere kazuha we trust
KAZUHA is entranced by your very essence as a human being on this earth. Scratch that, how could someone as pure as yourself..always looking up at him with those eyes he swears he could see his future belong to a human? It simply doesnāt make sense to him so he digs down deeper to investigate.
Of course he canāt always keep tabs on you but it doesnāt mean that sometimes he doesnāt ditch his line of work just to see you. Completely absorbed into your entire being as to nothing else around matters. How could you be so oblivious to all those who wish to make you theirs around you? Those wretched pests..
Flashing that oh so lovely smile to everyone else like a spell. A spell that simply cannot be broken. Determined..no he just HAS to make you his..you are too good for this world darling, just let Kazuha shield you from the harm that this cruel world has to bring. Just keep your pretty little eyes on him and donāt disobey is all.
You are allowed to go about your daily life of course. Chores and everything must be done before he arrives home, nothing bad happens but all Kazuha wishes for is to just relinquish in your arms during that time so absolutely nothing must get in the way of that right?
He wishes to stop but he just canāt..Your smile, your sweet and yet so soothing voice. Even the sound of your breathing has become a must in order to continue on with his day..Yet, Kazuha canāt bring himself to stop. You belong to him alone. Cutting down everyone and anything in his path just so he can have you to himself..well aware of how selfish the whole plan is but donāt you want him too? He swears he can see it in your eyes dear so just accept your fate.
Like a predator and prey he keeps his eyes on you. Well aware the very thought of you drives him mad like a addictive drug..Eyes wide and full of longing and nothing but adoration reserved for you and only you. It makes him ponder on how you will view him after discovering what he has been doing to the people around you, will you look up at him with hatred? Fear? He is a genuinely curious guy! He needs to see all the type of faces you make or even noises. You stole his heart and not to mention his sanity..itās only fair he returns it but tenfold right sweetheart?
they say white tulips symbolize forgiveness and respect
everything happened so fast, one moment you were just playing your favorite game while chilling on some park and the next your were injured while the archons from said game were watching as you bleed, but they were not only watching you bleed, they were also enjoying it, seeing as you were an "imposter" in their eyes
how were you exactly an "imposter"?, you never claimed to be their creator nor did you demand any royal treatment, you were just teleported there, you were just trying to find a way home.
but they didn't listen to your pleas they just watched as your crimson blood dripped from your body
and with one last hit
everything crumbled
statues of their said creator, tapestries of you started to fall apart, shrines that were created started to crack
and with that looking while on your last breath the archons looked in disbelief tears flowing down on their faces some with apologetic looks, some still in denial
you were both satisfied and upset
you didn't wanna die, you didn't wanna suffer from these guys mistakes
but alas everything went black screams were heard in the distance and you came to your end
a week later a grand funeral was held, to the death of their creator, everyone in Teyvat was devastated to have executed their own creator, to blame the creator for "impersonating" themselves
every nation felt numb and boring now, the archons simply could not process that they had injured, tortured their own creator who they worshipped so very much
people surrounded your burial place, ever since the day you did the archons made it mandatory to make traditions to show respect to the divine creator
one of those traditions involved dropping of white tulips near your grave.
while your vision was still black, you felt as if you were laying in bed, your head was aching and as if it was covered with something and your body felt numb
you then opened your eyes to see.. you were in a hospital..? huh..?
you rubbed your eyes and felt bandages on your head, just then a nurse came in and had a worried look on her face and told you to wait as she gets a doctor
you looked outside and it was the real world..?!
how could this be? you just died! but as the doctor came in he explained your situation.
the park had an incident a man came and shot several people those people including you, the man had shot you in the head, resulting in you being in a coma for two weeks
as the doctor left and gave you some medications, you started to contemplate if all of that was real or not, but you thought in a realistic way that it must have been a weird dream and nothing else
as you were scanning the room you noticed a bouquet of white tulips, you asked the nurse who sent it
and she replied with the name of a certain archon you know
content warning: heavy yandere themes, afab reader, female reader, amab reader, male reader, genderneutral reader, gender neutral pronouns, female pronouns, male pronouns, robotfucking, poc-friendly, cybersex, yandere robots, realistic robots, violence, and anything else that comes up will be added as necessary.
This is heavily inspired by The Prison Project by @yandere-sins
progress + masterlist
Youāve invested in a weird start-up company for realistic robots some years ago and have totally forgotten about it. Lost money and a mysterious quiz that you donāt remember taking is going to change your life forever. For better or for worse?
Things really get weird when a giant package shows up in front of your door addressed to you. Who ordered this? Certainly not you? And why was there no return address?
Every CyBi Machine is uniquely made. No two Cybi are alike which makes them especially great for long-time friends, sibling-types, other forms of companionship, and even lovers. Enjoy your new CyBi! Please follow instructions that are included in your particular manual to set your CyBi up properly. No cables or cords are needed to keep your CyBi charged and ready, simply feed them energy in the form of nutrients. With some time youāll be able to find out what foods they do or do not like. Have fun and good luck! P.S. every CyBi comes with a special awakened ability if applicable, further information is included in your manual.
NO RETURNS.
Hello! My name is [redacted], and I will be your Cybi representative! Please tell me what youāre looking for in an ideal partner and I will do my absolute best to craft the perfect partner for you.
In order to put in a request, here is the form I need you to fill out! Feel free to use this google doc as reference for putting in a request for a CyBi!
What are some things you look for in an ideal partner? (Do you want your CyBi to be a soft yandere, possessive yandere, passive aggressive yandere, or some other kind of yandere?)
Do you want the CyBi to be aware of anything beforehand? (Do YOU as the reader want to include any specific characteristics? Such as, x male reader, female reader, gender neutral reader, x fat reader, x insomniac reader, x anxious reader, x reader /w a disorder, etc. You can include more than one for this so you could say something likeā x chubby, male reader or even x genderneutral, afab, apathetic reader. i write for all readers, i am a very diverse individual)
Do you have a person in mind who you want your CyBi to be based on? (List of fandoms I write for will be at the bottom, check for reference!)
What customizable erotic features do you want your CyBi to have? (Just tell me if ya want me to add any specific kinks, examples: size kink, voyeurism, somnaphilia, etc. Ah, and also, these CyBi can have monster features so if you want them to have stuff like wings, scales, sharp teeth, animal ears, tails, etc., please let me know in advance!)
Do you wish to request more than one CyBi? (I do character x reader x character, or reverse harems so if you want something like kiribaku x reader or maybe even YuujiNobaraMegumi x reader i can do that)
Do you have any special requests?
Did you read the terms and conditions? We are not subject to any /malfunctions/ that may occur with your CyBi. (If you donāt answer ALL the questions in this form I will either ignore your request or I will fill in the blanks with my mind, which you may or may not like. If you WANT me to do that then you can also just tell me that while also including what characters you want to be included.
If youāre having trouble with the form, would you like to try our āSURPRISE MEā option? (If you wanna request something but struggle to do so, just tell me a lilā bit about yourself and what fandoms you like, as well as what genders youāre intoā Iāll match you with someone I think would fit with you!)
Please know in advance that if I am unable to fulfill your request you will receive a full refund and the chance to request again. Also! Donāt worry, you can make more than one Cybi request.
Ohā¦? You are having difficulty choosing from such a wide variety? No need to worry! I am here to assist you after all, darling. Here are some examples of the many different Cybi editions we haveā¦ Oh! You like Anime? Ahahahaha! You are in amazing luck, darling!
Weāve recently started making anime waifus and husbandos come to reality. Doesnāt that sound fabulous? Are you interested, darling? I am more than happy to tell you moreā¦
By the way, you can request under anon, I donāt mind! And you can also dm me your requests, whatever method you choose is fine as long as you send me some variation of the form above OR choose the āSURPRISE MEā option.
Fandoms I write for + Who I CAN Write
Everyone is always 20+ when I write for them, I do not feel comfortable writing them younger since Iām a smut blog.
Boku No Hero Academia.
-> All UA students, a couple from the other schools, LoV, UA teachers + Fatgum. (I cannot write for Mic)
Jojoās Bizarre Adventure
-> Anyone from Parts 1 to 6.
Hunter X Hunter
-> Phantom Troupe, none of the kids.
Jujutsu Kaisen
-> All students. (Except Panda because heās a lilā baby) Teachers and nonteachers. Humanoid curses like Mahito, and Sukuna. I can also write for Getou, Choso, and Naoya.
Demon Slayer
-> All Hashira. None of the four main protagonists (tanjiro, nezuko, zenitsu, inosuke). Yes to Genya, and demons such as Akaza, Douma, Muzan, Gyutaro, Daki, etc.
Disastrous Life of Saiki K.
-> Saiki is asexual so no smut for him but I donāt mind writing something with romance for him. I will write for the other students though (including nendo because hehehe)
Chainsaw Man
-> Anyone, including Makima bc letās face it sheās yandere material.
One Punch Man
-> Anyone! Except Kid Emperor because wtf.
One Piece
-> I can only write for Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Usopp, and Robin at the moment.
She's considered it, investigated the concept like a Fatui camp humanely liberated from its inhabits, weighed the benefits and drawbacks of flower arrangements and white lace and curling script on off-white parchment, but a lifetime of distancing herself from her noble heritage has soured her attitude to such needless frivolities, and she's always found herself more annoyed than endeared. Her work as a knight kept her busy enough. She didn't need romance or any of the wastefulness that came along with it.
She didn't care for romance, and yet, you managed to slip into her life regardless. You, with your melodic voice, with a smile bright enough to rival the sun and eyes that seem to warm the deepest recesses of her frigid soul. You seem to hold a certain fondness for the excess she's always attempted to avoid. You spend hours outside of the city's walls, picking wildflowers that will be bound with red ribbons and left on her windowsill just before sunset. You don't have much of an interest in swordplay or strategy, but you like watching her practice her forms, listening to tales of her exploits, anything that involves sitting by her side as she makes herself out to be more of a hero than she can genuinely say she is, at heart. You make her... soft, for lack of a more eloquent way to put it. You make her want to be more like you.
She tries, too. She does what little she can to return your affection, even as your attention begins to drift, even as her cold exterior begins to dampen your natural warmth. She leaves gifts on your windowsill, as you used to do with her, presents of silk ribbons and frost-preserved flowers, and when you're willing to listen, she attempts to explain her prolonged absences - the weeks she spends out in the wilderness, stalking her quarry, unable to contact anyone outside of her company. That only seems to upset you more, though, to drive you farther from her side. To make her into less of the hero you'd been hoping for, and more of the absentee lover you didn't wish you had.
She's never cared for the idea of marriage, but as she sits on the edge of her bed, your unclothed body tucked safely beneath her displaced sheets, she can envision herself warming to the notion of an eternal bond, of the assurance that you'll be waiting for her, safe and sound, whenever she strays farther than you can follow. She doesn't have rings, but the silver collar she's acquired for such an occasion shines just as brightly in the moonlight, and she'll have to make it up to you later on. It's not as if she won't have plenty of time. It's life until death, after all.
And she doesn't plan to let you slip away a moment sooner.
After two months and several āPart of Your Worldā loops, my Yandere Mermaid AU has been written!! I hope you all enjoy these tragic fairytales featuring Capitano, Pantalone, Dottore, and Pierro Ļµ( 'Ī' )Ļ¶
Tw:: yandere, violence, death, kidnapping
ā” 2.5k words under the cut ā”
Shark! Capitano x Coral Reef Fish! Mermaid
ā” Humans and mermaids alike are afraid of Capitano due to the misconceptions about sharks. It doesnāt help that he is considered intimidating even by his own speciesāa masked hunter who reigns victorious over every feeding frenzy, adorned with scars from his deceased opponents.
ā” In contrast to his fearful reputation, he is actually one of the calmer creatures of the sea. He mainly keeps to himself and avoids unnecessary violence, confident in his ability to survive alone. So it comes as a surprise when Capitano swims into your coral reef and scares away the mermaids who were bullying you.
ā” He understands your initial fear of him. You are quite the little mermaid, a weaker species of coral reef fish, though your scarred tail is proof of your capacity to defy natural selection. And you achieve another victory as Capitano gently asks if you are all right.
ā” Your quiet āThank youā results in more encounters. He soon becomes your attentive companion, leading to more peace in your coral reef. The two of you regularly admire the sea anemone and swim together, the distance between you disappearing in no time.
ā” Youāve watched Capitano hunt on a few occasions; and while his strength is terrifying, the spectacle reminds you that he can keep you safe from other species. (Come to think of it, what happened to your bullies?) Likewise, he accepts the algae and small animals youāve hunted from tiny crevices, affectionately calling you his little hunter.
ā” You even visit his home! His cavern is located in the deep sea, with less sunlight and more aggressive mermaids who mistake you for Capitanoās meal. Donāt worry, he is quick to scare them away and escort you to his safe territory. Look, he has a pretty collection of sea anemone which he knows youād love.
ā” Itās strange, really. To Capitano, you are no worthy competitor nor a species with symbiotic relations to shark mermaids. So why do you bewitch him? Why does he feel the urge to protect you? Why are his instincts telling him to bite you, not as a prey but as a mate?
ā” He tries to repress those urges. He really doesāit would be an offense to your own resilience. How fitting, then, that his boiling point is triggered by the worst predator known to your kind, a group of humans who catch you in a net and drag you up to their boat.
ā” Needless to say, a rare mermaid attack is reported that day. In the wake of the carnage, all you can do is tearfully hug Capitano and thank him for saving you. But the bloodshed does little to calm him. His little mermaid was almost stolen from him. How many more predators are eager to harm you?
ā” Itās too late for you. Before you can swim out of his grasp, Capitano holds you more tightly and makes his decision. The world is merciless to the weak, so you are to stay by his side from now on. It is his only way to ensure your safety.
ā” Well, look on the bright side. With Capitano as your provider, you are never alone in the seaānot that you could leave his territory without him, given his predatory neighbors. He still allows you to swim freely so long as he is there to protect you, and who can forget the many sea anemones he brings home for you?
ā” You can only pray that you survive your new role as his mate. Capitano may be willing to accommodate your softer flesh and courtship rituals, but the difference in strength is apparent. If he isnāt careful, his bites could become fatalā¦not that he would ever harm his beloved.
Jellyfish! Pantalone x Exotic Pet! Mermaid
ā” Pantalone is regarded as the jewel of the sea. Everything about him is perfect, from his graceful demeanor to his ethereal jellyfish features. Beneath that languid veneer, he is quite skilled in navigating the dangers of the deep sea and preying on unsuspecting creatures.
ā” When a ship capsizes in the midst of a storm, he takes advantage of the situation. He kills stings several humans, collects their valuables, and comes across a new treasure. A pretty mermaid trapped in a large aquarium, gazing at him with wide-eyed wonder.
ā” He easily deduces your identity. You are a rare mermaid raised by humans, a pampered pet who doesnāt know how to survive in the wild. And you have nowhere to go, seeing how your owners have either drowned or abandoned you.
ā” In that case, why donāt you stay with Pantalone? He must be a reliable mermaid if heās willing to set you free and welcome you into his territory! His cavern is smaller but lovelier than your old aquariums, furnished with a gorgeous collection of pearls, human trinkets, and other treasures. And you fit right in with your shimmery scales and bright smiles.
ā” It takes a while for you to adapt to the wild. Outgrowing your expensive meals is easier said than done, much less learning how to hunt. Youāre also a slow swimmer due to being raised in captivity, but Pantalone is patient enough to wait for you. He is a warm presence, always watching over you and educating you in How to be a Mermaid.
ā” He is also incredibly beautiful, which is high praise from an exotic pet. How can you not approach him when he illuminates the dark with his bioluminescent features? How can you not accept his offer to share body heat on cold nights, tails intertwined? How can you not applaud his underwater dances, unaware that it is a courtship ritual?
ā” Youāre really lucky to have met him, you know? That is what Pantalone says whenever he stops you from meeting other mermaids and leaving his territory unsupervised. Had you met another sea creature, you wouldāve quickly succumbed to the natural order of the world. Youāre so naive and helpless, but he is willing to put up with it.
ā” Furthermore, something must be done about your view of humans. Despite the truth to his horror stories, itās still common for Pantalone to pull you away from the surface and scuba divers. How many times has he warned you against showing yourself to humans? Donāt you know that the creatures who imprisoned you are just as likely to turn you into sashimi?
ā” Your shared life is perfect. So why are you suddenly saying goodbye to him? Pantalone can only stay silent when you tell him that youād like to find your natural habitat. Your species isnāt meant for the deep sea and you feel guilty for freeloading. At the end of your speech, you leave the cavern to give him some space.
ā” That was your plan until Pantalone reaches out and stings you with his tentacles. He is incredibly apologetic about it, checking your wounds with cold hands and a calm smile. Oh dear, heās so sorry. It seems that he let his emotions get the best of him. Why donāt you come back inside, darling? In your current condition, you would be easy prey.
ā” You listen to him. Eventually, you agree with Pantalone that youād made an unconscionable decision. How could you possibly survive in the wild without him? Why put yourself in danger when you already have a perfect mate to care for you? Youāre already home.
Octopus! Dottore x Marine Biologist! Human
ā” Octopus mermaids are perceived as intelligent troublemakers, and Dottore lives up to that reputation. His curiosity of the human world has caused many near-sightings, human deaths, and criticism from his peers but who is he to shy away from forbidden knowledge?
ā” It is during one research expedition that he meets a like-minded scientist. You are diving solo when Dottore reveals himself, and you react with genuine excitement. Not conventional fear, greed, or cruelty but pure fascination towards a foreign creatureāa sentiment which he reciprocates.
ā” He is cautious, of course, but you remain undeterred by his bared fangs and clouds of ink. You carefully approach him and communicate with hand signals, to which Dottore surprises you with a few human words learned from previous research.
ā” An unlikely friendship is formed. Over time, you and Dottore secretly meet in the same area to share information and learn about each other. The language barrier remains an issue but you soon gain a rudimentary understanding of his speech patterns.
ā” While most humans equate octopi to sea monsters, you are clever enough to discover the truth on your own. You politely study Dottoreās mermaid biology, marveling over his grip strength and the suction marks he leaves on your skin. Likewise, you allow him to poke your legs and squeeze you with his tentacles. Half the time, the latter is an involuntary action which he tries to deny.
ā” One day, he follows you to the surface! Dottore has visited the surface before but itās different when you are part of the view. Above water, you can remove your diving mask and speak to him clearly. An important observation is made: You have an attractive face. Heād like to see your expressions more often.
ā” Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted by an approaching boat. Quickly, you push him underwater and speak with the sailors. Thankfully, they donāt notice your companion and offer you a ride back to shore. You comply, unaware that Dottore is still watching you.
ā” What an unwelcome intrusion, he thinks bitterly. Despite your sociobiological boundaries, he canāt deny his fondness for you. The involuntary hugs from his tentacles, this odd feeling in all three of his heartsā¦could it be? Is such an attraction pursuable?
ā” Well, Dottore hasnāt been accused of witchcraft for nothing. In your following visits, he is more rigid in his research. He collects more human data, takes a few DNA samples from you, and acts clingy during your departures. You brush it off as an ordinary change in mood; itās not like you could ask about it, anyway.
ā” One day, he guides you to the deep sea for some local mermaid games. Youāre having so much fun that it comes as a total shock when Dottore forcibly removes your diving mask. For a few minutes, he restrains you with his tentacles and watches your distress with a cold, calculative expression. A deep kiss follows, flooding your throat with a bitter sedative.
ā” You know something is wrong as soon as you wake up. Dottore is looming over you with a frightening grin and when he speaks, you can understand him? That is when you notice the gills on your neck, the scales littering your skin, the mermaid tail in place of your legs.
ā” Arenāt you impressed? It took him ages to create a permanent transformation potion, and he even accommodated your favorite marine species! Now he can see your lovely face all the time and show you parts of the sea which no human can explore. Worry not, Dottore will guide you through your adjustment. The two of you will be closer than ever.
Orca! Pierro x Rescuer! Human
ā” Orca mermaids are no stranger to animal cruelty. Pierro can attest to that, having lost his habitat and escaped captivity. So when he washes up on shore, too weak and dispirited to resist the currents, he thinks it is the end for him.
ā” Only to be proven wrong by a compassionate human who lives near the sea. Before anyone can see him, you bring the beached mermaid home and put him in your bathtub. You add some foam pillows, treat his wounds, and wait for him to wake up.
ā” Pierro is naturally distrustful at first but thereās only so much he can do inside a bathtub. Apart from your concern, you are naturally curious about him and surprised by his fluency in human languages, an ability exclusive to his species.
ā” For a human, youāre oddly empathetic. Recognizing the social needs of orca mermaids, you spend hours in your bathroom to chat with your new companion. You introduce him to human culture by providing personal stories and warm meals which taste a thousand times better than the stale fish fed to captive animals.
ā” As the weeks pass, Pierro grows to trust you. You treat him like a companion, not a beast or pet, and go the extra mile to keep him comfortable. While he is embarrassed to sit in an inflatable kiddie pool, heās willing to set aside his pride for more interactions in your home.
ā” Once his wounds have healed, you bring him to shore and set him free. In the dead of the night, you have enough time to properly say your goodbyes and wish Pierro a safe future. He thanks you one last time and disappears below the surface, leaving you to resume your ordinary life.
ā” Months later, you are roaming your neighborhood when you bump into a familiar person. Itās Pierro, appearing distinctly human with his two legs and fancy suit. After the initial shock wears off, he explains that he took a transformation potion to visit you. The effect wears off in three days; until then, would you be so kind as to give him a tour of your world?
ā” You eagerly accept. In his human form, Pierro can properly explore your house and natural habitat. The two of you go on several outings, eat your meals at your dining table, and share your bed. He regards your bathtub and kiddie pool with endeared nostalgia.
ā” On the third day, you cook a special farewell feast and invite Pierro to visit another time. He thanks you again, for both your hospitality and your previous act of compassion, but makes one clarification: Who said that he is saying goodbye?
ā” You arenāt given a warning before Pierro physically overpowers you and twists your leg. Calmly, he carries you to bed and soothes your pained cries. Walking is quite inconvenient, isnāt it? All it takes is a single injury, a shift in balance or gravity, for a human to be incapacitated.
ā” Now he just needs to decide whether heāll remain a human or drag you to the deep sea and permanently turn you into a mermaid. Itās a difficult choice, seeing how either of you must make a sacrifice. But one thing is certain: Wherever you go, land or sea, he will be a part of your world.
ā”
Fufufu which Harbingerās story was your favorite?? The mermaid brainrot and nostalgia was very strong in this one. If the couples seem familiar, thatās cuz I incorporated the characters and darlings from my Yandere! Harbinger longfic series~
A big thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this and putting up with more of my nonsense. And to the fishfuckers, I know you exist. I hope you are happy u_u