heeey ♡

seri/rika • 25 • she/her • scorpio • MDNI jjk, tokrev & haikyuu!

[bureikaa]

Seri/Rika

25 : she/her — MDNI

[yenayaps]

sneak peek: king!sukuna x witch!reader (oneshot)

[ content: crack, accidental aphrodısiacs, one of his concubines gets exposed for doing witchcraft, instead of punishing her, he puts her up in a tower and has her create a bunch of different potions and elixirs that’ll make him stronger ]

“You can’t just barge into a woman’s space like that!” The words come out with a startled whine. “I could’ve been changing.”

“And if you were, I wouldn’t have seen anything new,” he blandly mutters, eyes briefly landing on your tits as he takes a seat at your tea table. “It’s been a week already. What have you come up with?”

You’re clearly in the middle of eating, but he killed your appetite after managing to scare you first thing in the morning. Your spoon clatters against the bowl, huffing out an annoyed breath as you push yourself up to stand. Sukuna just watches, not bothered by the small fit you throw—it’s not a refusal if you’re still getting up and following orders.

From the shelf, you bring him a small glass bottle containing a reddish-pink fluid.

“I’m not sure if you’d consider this one to be an enhancer, but I found a bunch of snake root in the cellar and made an elixir that temporarily grants infertility.”

“Did you, now?” There’s a slight tilt to his head as he takes the bottle from you, looking fairly impressed as he examines the shimmering liquid. “How temporary?”

“It’s pretty potent, ingesting a third of it should last you around two years. I do suggest—wait, w-what are y—You’re Majesty! Don’t!“ you cry out, eyes widening with panic as he chugs down the entire bottle.

“What?” He wipes his lips as he leans back in his seat, eyes narrowing in irritation over your mindless yelling. “Now it’ll be six years instead of two.”

“That was a concentrate! You weren’t supposed to finish in one sitting!”

“Well I just did.” He throws his hands up and shrugs. “Should I expect for my balls to wither away by morning now?”

You shoot him a glare at first, before giving an honest, “I don’t know!” And it wipes the smug look off his face completely. “At the very least, it’ll upset your stomach, so I suggest you cancel any meetings you have this week.”

. . .

By the grace of the Gods, the King's balls did not wither away that week, and somehow, didn’t experience stomach pain. He did experience one very rare and unpleasant side effect, though. It only lasted for a day, but he had to lock himself away for the entirety of it.

You almost didn’t get out of his chambers in time.

At first glance, you knew what was wrong. He was heaving, struggling to stay in one place, angry.

“You,” he began to seethe right then and there, “Never in my years have I been dragged through this kind of pain. I have been suffering since the crack of dawn—what the fuck did you do to me?”

You hesitate to even answer. It’s technically not your fault, but that is not something you’re going to try to explain at the moment.

“I am so sorry.” He doesn’t even take aphrodisiacs. His stamina was already abnormally high to begin with, they’re the last thing he should be taking. “There’s remedies that help with this. I have all the herbs needed, it-it shouldn’t take me very long—“

“I have been hard since the early morning! I don’t want a remedy that’ll just help. I want it gone,” he snaps, yet even as he continues to heave, he manages to laugh. “So unless you’re here to fuck me, you can keep your little remedies to yourself.”

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[levitonin]

Nightjo wip if anyone cares

[madamechrissy]

It's hard to get time away from your kids - just you and Satoru alone together.

Very hard in fact - yet sometimes you can leave them just for a bit with their grandparents long enough for you and your husband Satoru to run to the store. Or run to grab food, do errands - that sort of thing.

However these little moments were precious- so precious in fact, that Satoru made sure to let you know how much he loved them.

Every thrust of his cock in your tight throat as you bent over while he was driving, every grip of his steering wheel with one hand, your hair with the other - the husky little moans

From his lips just urging you on.

Satoru made sure his pretty wife knew how good her mouth feels, fucking up into it with messy strokes, whining out your name as nine inches pummels your throat. Sliding past your uvula as he cries out your name on the way to the damn Home Depot.

Yes, thats your date in your thirties with three kids - home fucking depot. But God if you dont love it as much as you did in college with him, if you don't slurp that cock even messier.

"Sh-shit..." he whispers out, his tip so fucking sensitive when you swirl your tongue around it. "That's it, sucking me like you wanna milk me, huh? Slutty lil throat- ah! Perfect wife I...".

Satoru is loud.

Satoru babbles.

You fucking love that - how this man can't shut up when you swirl your tongue against his frenum, when your suction gets stronger, and your spit drools. When you can be as slutty as he wants when he pulls into the back of the parking lot, finally able to tug you up, spitting in your mouth and tasting his precum off your tongue.

"Fuck I love our dates," you giggle at that - you all are literally buying paint, but he already is tugging you against him, having you straddle him right in the minivan you take the kids to soccer in. "Wanna have another fuckin' baby, god look at you."

"Toru," you whine out when he shoves your shorts to the side, the stretchy comfy ones you wear out, fuck if he doesn't find those and your cute lil cotton panties as sexy as lingerie. He tugs them aside, eyeing your messy cunt as your nails press into his shoulders.

"Gonna ride me in the car like when we were in college, hmm? My pretty soccer mom is still slutty for me?"

"Soccer dad is slutty," you tease back, whining out when he spits right on his cock, sliding it right between your puffy lips. "Ah!"

"Need to be inside you. Fuck..." he lifts you by your hips, gliding that tip over and over, until you gush and squirt, making a mess of him. "Sweetheart... still so messy?"

Satoru slams you right down on his cock, buried to the fucking hilt - tip grinding your puffy cervix as you cry out. Still so goddamn tight, wrapping his cock just as good as you did ten years ago. Every time he fucks you he wonders just how lucky he got, with your spit getting fucked into your needy hole.

"Pretty girl," he whispers, feeling your cunt gripping him so goddamn good, glad his windows are tinted so he can fuck his pretty wife anywhere he can. "Milking me already? Ngh..."

Satoru makes sure you cum before him, thumbing your clit in pretty patterns as your ass hits the steering wheel, as your thighs press his hips and he uses you, lifting you up and down until he pumps you full. He stays in there too, fucking that milky cum deep, kissing you until the two of you are breathless, dripping, a mess.

"I love home depot," you say all sleepy and cute, Satoru laughs softly, kissing you.

"So do I, sweetheart."

****

hehe shameless self insert

[madamechrissy]

Veiled Secrets

you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do it, he doesn't even come to your first meeting! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is? Can both of you find an agreement or love - and once you do, how do you be just one of his women?

pairings- emperor! gojo x arranged empress! reader

contents/warnings - Historically INNACURATE, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, smut, court tactics, reader missing her lover Suguru, drama, he falls first and he falls hard. This chap - a lot of emotions and angst, past loves, Suguru in his regret arc, cute, down bad Satoru - he is SO IN LOVE. No smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of violence, say hi to Jin Shi too!!

A/N - I made this one a little shorter so I can actually start putting these out again more regularly, 10k plus is a little fkn daunting ahh! We have three more chapters to wrap these cuties up. Ty for everyone who was so patient!

art is by @3-aem they're insanely talented 🥹

part seven - playlist - masterlist - part nine (soon)

part eight

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Satoru asks you the next morning – Lola is locked up and so is Suguru, down in the dungeons.

Satoru wants them both dead, however he needs Suguru alive for just a bit.

Your dumb fucking Knight.

He looks at you carefully, his baby blue eyes flickering against your skin, you’re still not fully your normal color, paled just a bit, he pauses – brushing a lock of your hair back as you walk to him. “Should you even be up?”

“I will go insane laying in bed all day,” you sway just a bit, his hand coming to grip your waist, leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

“Foolish girl, can’t even stand up,” he clicks his tongue, you rest your head against his chest, hugging him tightly around his waist, yawning just a bit. “Go back to sleep.”

“I must see what is going on,” your mind races – a million thoughts abound, wondering just what exactly had transpired.

It was only bits and pieces.

The emperor sighs, shaking his head as he buries his face against your neck, he’s exhausted, too. He barely got a bit of sleep before convening with the barrister, holding an emergency meeting of his council due to Lola’s return, and the poisoning of his Empress. The one in his arms, so very weak – but she is alive.

“I hated leaving the bed,” he admits softly, brushing your hair back, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, inhaling again, like he can’t get enough of you. “I was so fucking scared that…”

“I am here, Emperor,” you whisper, tears stinging your eyes. “I am feeling mostly back to normal, I promise.”

“And has there been any…” He trails off, unable to finish, feeling you tense just a bit, pulling back to look up at him, as he cups your face.

“No,” you whisper – knowing his question without him asking.

Blood.

Has there been any blood?

Were you still pregnant?

“None at all?” He asks, swallowing visibly, his eyes burning, dark circles marring his otherwise perfect complexion. You grip his wrist gently, shaking your head.

“None at all, Toru,” he exhales in relief, though he doesn’t want to get too excited – you still had been poisoned, even with Mao’s quick work of it. “I am going to get checked in a bit, I just… wanted to know about… her.”

“Lola?” He says it like a curse word – it is one, truly. You nod. “She’s locked up for the moment, but she won’t live to see the week.”

“Toru, should you truly-”

“I will kill her,” he cuts you off, ever so quiet, tilting your chin. “For everything she fucking did. Don’t you try to talk me out of it.”

“And… Sir Geto?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “I need his testimony, so I offered a deal – you can decide his fate. I’m sure you’d be a little more kind to that man than I would be.”

You go to open your mouth, when the door opens, and advisor Ijichi comes in, pushing up his monocle, smiling with relief as he sees you. “My Empress, it’s so good to see you awake.”

“Ijichi,” you rush up and hug him, making the man blush. “I heard you carried me to safety, yes?”

“Of course I did, it was no bother,” he’s a flustered mess, Satoru can’t help but laugh softly at the sight of him awkwardly patting your back. “I come bearing some news for you both.”

“I’m listening,” Satoru’s hand doesn’t leave the small of your back, the warmth seeping through your layers, your silk underlayers, your pretty dress, one that Satoru’s mom had made for you.

You couldn’t help but love the little touches of home with the added lace, the billowing sleeves. You love her so very much, she had checked on you much this morning, and you hated that she was worried like that over you – though perhaps no one went through as much as Satoru that night, from what you heard.

‘It was terrible,’ she had said, sniffling – usually a formidable woman, she was vulnerable laying next to you in the bed as you’d brushed her hair back. ‘You shouldn’t be comforting me!’

‘I put you both through a fright,’ she had sighed, snuggling up, the infamous Gojo strands much like her son’s. One would almost think her as a sister, she still looked so very young and lovely, even with reddened eyes. ‘How bad was it for him? I hope he did not…’

‘Lose it completely?’ You nodded, swallowing. ‘I thought I’d lose him and you together with how he acted.’

‘Mama Gojo, do not say that,’ your heart ached then. ‘I cannot have him hurting himself over me.’

‘I was terrified,’ she had swiped her eyes, shaking her head and exhaling. ‘I am also scared of… if you’re…’

‘We weren’t sure if I was pregnant completely, yet,’ you tried to smile, but it fell flat. ‘I will get checked soon.’

‘If anything happens to that baby, I’ll kill-’

‘Mama Gojo!’

She had been very serious.

To think of what Satoru went through while you were unconscious breaks your heart, you only know a bit, likely to not upset you further. But you feel it, how tightly he’s holding you, like he can’t stand to pull away – and you don’t want him to, you want to be locked right in his embrace for as long as you could be.

“Sir Geto would like to talk to the Empress alone,” Satoru scoffs, and you can’t help but tense up. “I told him you would not allow such a thing, but even so – if you did, I would go down with her as protection.”

“Fuck him, I should put him out to be hung,” he curses, holding you so tight you wince, making him pause. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You’re all right, Toru,” you smile reassuringly. “I don’t think Geto would hurt me if I-”

“He almost killed you!?”

“That was Lola,” you mumble, Satoru laughs again, a psychotic sound, as if he was actively losing it, brushing a hand through his hair until it’s a mess. “I’m not saying he isn’t to blame, but there are a couple questions I need answered before you throw him out of a tower window.”

“He’ll splatter so lovely,” Satoru says, longingly – you giggle a little, shaking your head at him. “No?”

“I have some things I really need to know…” He knows what you mean, the past you had shared and just how much of that was questionable, how much did Suguru lie to you over the years?

He got the note when they confiscated everything Suguru had, but he has not brought it up to you, not yet. Not realizing how horrible he made you feel when you first got there, how lonely and hopeless – he’d read it several times just this morning as you slept, restless, tossing and turning in the bed as he sat at that desk.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, to apologize – you surely must think he’d be furious about it, but he is not.

Of course you missed home during that time, and the perceived ‘perfection’ of Suguru and the comforts of a place you grew up in.

“Then I shall allow you to have your moments alone,” you hug him tightly, letting him brush back your hair. “Kiyo will stay close to the door.”

“You may as well, Toru… I just…”

“No, I realize there is much to be said,” he sighs now, chin resting on your head. “I’m so very exhausted.”

“As am I, I just wish we could…”

“Yes,” he grimaces now. “I also must speak to the little murderous harlot.”

“You’re going to kill her!”

“I am.”

“You must let it go to the council,” you chide, staring into narrowed blue eyes. “It’s our best chance to rid ourselves of the concubines altogether.”

“She is correct,” Ijichi chides, and Satoru looks at him over your head. “The royal advisor Jinshi has offered his advice to you, your excellence.”

“No calling me that when it’s just us,” Satoru waves his hand, Ijichi can’t stop his blush, you giggle at how cute it is.

“Master Gojo, then.”

“Call him Toru!”

“I didn’t say that familiar!?”

“Toru is cute,” you pinch his cheek, he snorts and smacks your hand off his cheek playfully. “I hear this advisor is very important, and from what I can tell, versed in politics very much. He would be good to convene with, yes?”

“Indeed,” Satoru sighs a little dramatically, though. “I never get enough time alone with my bride.”

“We shall have much time, very soon. Hmm?” You’re running your hands up his chest, his voice drops to a murmur.

“Not until you’re all better, you bratty empress.”

You pout up at him.

“You were just poisoned.”

“I know! A little bit.”

“A little!?”

“Ahem,” Ijichi reminds you both of his presence, waving his hand again at the two of you. “We have much to do, you two. I will not leave her alone for a moment, I promise you this time.”

“Oh Ijichi,” you walk over to him, taking his hand. “You did nothing wrong that night, I was in my room.”

“I still…”

“You helped save me,” you smile reassuringly, watching him relax his shoulders just a little bit at your words. You look back at your husband, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed under those gold silk robes. “We will make sure to have dinner tonight, alone, and take a bath together. Won’t we, Toru?”

“I can’t handle a bath like…” He doesn’t say it all – but you grin, as if you know he’d be tortured, unable to not have his cock buried inside of you.

It’s been weeks.

Yet you just had a terrible thing happen, and he must be careful.

“Stop being so slutty in front of Ijichi.”

“Your Excellence! Do not speak of the Empress this way!?”

“Indeed, do not!?” You stick out your tongue as you hook your arm through Ijichi’s, earning his glare. “Dinner, and then the bathhouse.”

“Go on, then,” you both walk together, but you can’t help but tense, as you look back at Satoru, turning and walking the opposite direction in the courtyard.

You never do get enough time with the man you love, and there is still so much to learn about each other, so much you must do together, speak of, work on. Yet all you want is to be in his arms, on his lap, kissing him until your head spins, and you’re dizzy, resting in the comfort you had missed so much.

When he turns a corner, his eyes catch yours, and you feel that weight in his gaze, that sad little smile, as if he’s dreading the day, too.

Yet, there is much hope for the two of you.

First, however? There was much to discuss with a couple of infiltrators.

******

The dungeons Satoru has Suguru locked up in are chilled, it’s utterly dark, every step down the spiraling stairs echoing with your heels clicking against them. Your heart is pounding, as Ijichi walks behind you, heading down first, holding his hand up for you to take with a nervous smile.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

“I am,” you assure him, but his concern lingers. “Say it, then.”

He sighs. “You’re doing too much for just having been poisoned, the state you were in was…”

“I swear I feel fine, whatever the pretty girl Maomao gave me worked wonders,” you try again to calm him, but you see his judgement even in the dark, with the little lanterns hanging on the walls. “Truly!”

“Mmm,” you both keep walking. “You are stubborn like the Emperor.”

“That stubborn?”

“Mhm,” your lips quirk up. “It’s not funny, my lady. You know you both age me beyond my years!?”

“He did that before I came, and you’re most handsome, all mature,” he blushes even in the dark, guiding you down the hall now.

“Don’t use your charms, they won’t work today.”

“They always do.”

“Hmph,” your mood sobers up a bit as you catch sight of Suguru's cell at the end of the corridor, the only one bathed in the small lighting.

“Is Lola elsewhere?” You ask softly.

“She is.” Kiyotaka says nothing else, stopping then at the bars that block Suguru’s cell, taking a key and unlocking it.

Suguru sees the action immediately, and stands as your footsteps approach – the heavy chains around his wrists and ankles rattling just a bit. His fine knightly gear is all gone, replaced by a basic white tunic, that dark hair – usually so perfect, is thrown up in a messy pony tail. Those eyes that were the last thing you saw before you fainted, have dark circles underneath them, like he hasn’t slept.

"Princess..." he begins, seeing Kiyotaka and clearing his throat, correcting himself with a ghost of a smile. "Empress, I mean.”

“Indeed…” You let Kiyotaka open the door now, stepping inside, peeking back at him. “I will be all right, Kiyo. Promise.”

“One touch on her hair,” Ijichi warns, Suguru sighs.

“I would not hurt her,” the tension is palpable when he steps back, giving you some privacy alone in the cell, when so many emotions rush through, you’re shaking, hands trembling. 

“I don’t know whether to speak or smack you,” you admit, laughing without any real humor, as he frowns. “Or punch you. Or kick your dick.”

“Kick my dick?” He raises a brow, and you shove at him, tears already forming in your eyes, but he lets you. He lets you shove him, stumbling back when a big man like him never would, taking your hand on his chest to pause you. “I suppose I deserve much worse.”

“You deserve the worst, and Satoru will give you no mercy unless I ask,” you shut your eyes, feeling the tears slip from your eyes. “I should not, either.”

 “I never imagined..." Suguru trails off, his voice breaking in the middle, hand hovering like he might cup your face.

Your jaw sets. "Never imagined what, Suguru? That I'd see you here? Or that you'd help try to kill me?"

He falters now, stepping back a bit as if slapped, but he doesn’t release your wrists until you yank them back, clutching your hands into fists, pulse racing so quickly you feel dizzy. 

"Never that.” That dark amethyst gaze locks onto yours – so exhausted, so beyond dark, the intensity making you tense up. 

“Oh, never that, hmm?”

"I started under false pretenses,” you scoff at that. “Yes, I did initially – try to be everything and anything you could love.”

The pain hits so hard you can’t breathe.

Though you were in love with Satoru – so fucking in love, it didn’t erase the years of being ‘with’ Suguru, your knight by your side, promising to be with you even as you were just a young child. The hurt knowing that you were just a part of some bigger scheme didn’t go away, and you need that closure, truly.

Even if it’s painful.

“I’d like to know about it more, just exactly your plan – would you be honest with me?” He nods, tugging out one of the old wooden chairs in the cell, where there lay parchment paper and pens.

“Please sit.”

“Fine,” you mumble, seeing your name scrawled on several crumbled sheets of paper, making your eyes burn with tears. “Will you even tell the truth?”

“I won't lie to you again.”

“How long?”

He sits across from you, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes shutting. In the darkness, he does not look as imposing as you’re used to.

He looks tired.

“I was put there when I met you, to slowly gather intel against the royal family -”

“My family!”

“Your family made how many people starve?” His words are sharp, he appears to regret them when you jerk back as if slapped. “I mean not you – the royals in general, they care not for anyone but themselves.”

“I cared, I was just… not in power. How often did I take the unfortunate food, clothing? How often did I sneak out for you to find me?”

“You’re different,” he cups your face, sighing now. “I knew you were different, even more so to try to get you to my side. You were the perfect pawn.”

A pawn.

You knew it, but it didn’t lessen the blow.

“But then..." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Then I watched you, got to really know you. Intimately.”

“Indeed,” you blush furiously, gripping your gown so tightly the fabric crumples underneath your touch. “In ways you should have never been in such falsehood.”

“My desire for you was not false,” you hate Suguru in that moment, even if he’s being truthful, the pain is bitter as it washes through you until you’re sick. “You think I didn’t want you?”

“To get some sick revenge on my parents, perhaps.” His jaw locks as you lower his hand from your face. “You should not have stolen my first kiss, touched me … you should not have.”

“I know that, I was supposed to do worse.”

“Worse!?” You practically hiss the damn word. “Worse?”

“Much worse, to you and many others,” he leans back now, shaking his head. “It was not just you that I have had to play to get intel, to try to take over.”

“I see, one of many? That’s what those kisses meant, those fucking words?”

His brows draw together, pain written on his face. “I’ll never forgive myself for it… but I did want you. None of that was pretend, how I touched you, kissed you… I fell in love with you.”

“What lies, hah,” you feel bile rise in your throat.

“Truly. I still am in love, fuck even more than before."

Tears prick at your eyes and begin to swim, until his very image is utterly blurred. "You loved me enough to let Lola poison me? To use me as a weapon in your pathetic war against royals?"

“I wanted you by my side.”

“And with Satoru, hmm?”

"I was an idiot," he whispers, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a stray tear from your cheek, you tremble with your anger. "Jealous, dumb fucking idiot.. I hated him for having you so easily, for forgetting me.”

“I did not, I kept… I kept that necklace, I kept the pin, I cared so much I did not even let myself feel anything. For what!? For a fake love.”

“It was not.”

“Then you so easily just let Lola in? You truly had no inkling she would try to harm me?”

“I don't know what I thought, but I never imagined she'd go this far. I swear it." He leans his forehead against yours, his breath against your skin, in a familiar way he should have never done with you. “I never wanted you at risk. I wanted to bring you back with me.”

“And do what to my parents, Suguru?”

He’s quiet again.

That tells you all you need to know.

“I get that royalty has its problems, I know I’m naive about the state of the world, but to use me after knowing me so long…” Your tears fall freely now. “I was worthy of some respect.”

“You were worth much more than I could ever give,” you take a breath and lean back again, hands clutching and unclutching once more, his eyes darting to the action. “You always did that when you were nervous.”

“Stop acting so familiar,” you stand now, shaking.

"Kill me now if you must… I'd die by your hand," you look at him now, feeling the emotions hitting so hard.

Even though he had done something so dangerous, so foolish…

You could not kill him.

“That would be your easy way out,” you say instead, shaking your head as he tugs you to him, taking one of your hands and putting it on his chest. A stream of memories hit, but they’re different now.

There isn’t that longing anymore, and there’s hardly any anger, no yearning for the girl that you were, and how simple things ‘were’. No, you are not that young Princess now, even though it’s been a short time, under Satoru you have grown much – you are completely different, in fact, with him.

In the best and worst ways.

You are different because of Satoru, a part of you that loved Suguru is in there somewhere, but she is in your past, left with a girl who can’t help but feel somewhat terrible for what he’s in. It’s not truly his own doing, and you understand the cause, but he had so callously and coldly not cared for you enough to even let you in on it.

“Would you have understood?” He asks now. “You, a young princess?”

“I may have if you gave me a chance,” he leans down and presses his kiss against your brow, a farewell that you allow him.

“He got that letter even though I did not give it to him,” you suck in a breath, gaze matching his. “I did not want to cause discourse, but they took it all from me.”

“He saw it…” Your eyes close. “I will speak to him.”

“He is so in love with you,” Suguru laughs, shaking his head. “I almost like that pretentious man, fuck him.”

“Well in another life, if you weren’t so terrible, maybe you’d have been friends,” you whisper, letting him press another kiss on your temple, lingering for a moment. “I shall not have you killed.”

“You should, by all means, have me killed. I already told everything about your parents, there is no-”

“I will not,” you correct, firmer this time – and Suguru sees you then.

Chin up, stubborn set to it, your hands little fists at your sides as you eye him.

You’re every bit an Empress now.

“Why?” He asks softly, watching your face and wishing he could fix it – fix everything, but he knows this kindness is already more than he deserves.

His letters that he keeps writing come out wrong, but mostly, all he can think over and over, is that you’ll be his biggest regret, yet in ways he is glad you have your emperor, that you two found love. A bittersweet taste left in his mouth as he studies you even more seriously, exhaling.

“You should have me killed for what I did, or could have done,” his eyes can’t help but flicker to your stomach. “No, I don’t want to live with what I may have done to you.”

“Well I do not know yet what has happened,” you touch your stomach, praying that the news will be good. “You don’t get the easy way out, Suguru Geto. You’ll pay back in service to the Emperor, and you’ll gladly do it.”

“You really think he’ll ever want me to?”

“Shitty service, the most dangerous situations – I’ll send you off to the ends of the bloody Earth for a flower if I want,” his lips twitched. “You’ll be in full service to the Emperor, and mean your damn vows this time. If things work out, and those girls can leave, I would be appreciative enough not to kill you.”

“He only wants you.”

You blush now. “I know.”

“As he should,” you step back, and he steps forward. “I am so, so fucking sorry I put you in danger.”

“I’m more mad you wanted to hurt my husband,” you admit. “Not me.”

“But I-”

“I cannot live in a world where he doesn't exist,” he pauses, and says nothing else, as Kiyotaka comes and unlocks the heavy iron gates, and you look back at him. “If you succeeded, you would have truly killed me.”

His hands grip the bars, head leaning against the cool metal.

He watches you walk off, going back over to his table, grabbing the pen and dipping it in the ink.

He thinks he knows the words to say, now.

*****

"Your Majesty," Jin Shi begins, his lavender hair damn near glittering as he sits in front of Emperor Gojo’s desk.

“Why is your hair so damn pretty!?”

He laughs now, shrugging a shoulder, his voice much like the Emperor’s – Satoru saw everyone fucking swooning over him. “I suppose it’s the shampoo bars I use.”

“I’ll have them imported,” Satoru grumbles, sighing then. “Forgive me, I know we are here for serious matters.”

“Indeed we are,” he smiles then. “Mao Mao tells me your Empress is still very much with child.”

“She…”

“You did not…” He trails off, frowning then, but Satoru puts his head in his hands for a moment, sighing. “I thought you knew.”

“I haven’t gotten to see my wife most of the day,” he admits. “With Lola, the council, the barrister… you. I have not had a moment.”

“I see…”

“No, no, that makes me…” Satoru grins, all dopey now. “So fucking happy.”

Jin Shi laughs softly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, Miwa comes in and damn near has her eyes pop out of their sockets, almost dropping the tea tray. “Hi there.”

“H-hello!?”

“As if you don’t see a gorgeous man daily, tch,” Satoru crosses his arms, watching Jin Shi smile at her, and he swears the girl almost falls.

What sort of effect was he having on Satoru’s subjects!?

Wasn’t he a eunuch?

“S-sorry, your excellence! I… do you require anything…”

“This is great, thank you,” she giggles and prances away, Jin Shi and Satoru sip the tea, sighing at the same time. "With the empress carrying your heir, the threat has never been more real.”

“It’s very true,” Satoru says quietly, the thoughts that life still flutters in your tummy making him ache to hold you.

Kiss you.

All over.

Fuck, imagining you in the baths later has him…

Focus.

“The council is reeling, news has even spread,” Jin Shi continues. “Lola's actions have proven that the concubines, in your case, are a threat to the empire, considering what she could have done. No matter how high ranking, she does not compete with the standing of the Empress.”

“So you think I’ll have a chance to get rid of all of them?” Satoru asks hopefully, Jin Shi nods.

“I do. The people will support it after this attempt on their Empress' life, and the council will have no choice but to agree. They will see it as necessary for stability and the safety of the royal line, though I can’t say the practice altogether would cease in your future heirs."

“I want daughters,” Satoru admits, grinning again and swirling the tea in the pretty cup around. “I want many, many little mini Empress’ running about.”

“You are so in love I’m sickened,” comes MaoMao, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed, with you behind her. “Ew.”

“You lack romance, tch,” Jin Shi tells her, she rolls her green eyes, shaking her head and crossing her arms, walking alongside you as you both enter the office, shutting the door behind you.

Your eyes meet his, and he can feel that mix – the pain, the worry, the happiness, the love.

He feels all of it – all of you.

“Satoru,” you rush to him without thinking of the audience, and he tugs you right on his lap, kissing you deeply, the other two blushing at the sight of such blatant affection.

“My Empress,” he murmurs, inhaling your scent and burying his face against your neck. “I have no patience for formalities, I miss you too badly.”

“I miss you so badly,” you whisper back, hugging him tightly, letting him put a hand on your tummy. “I am still…”

“I heard,” his grin is huge and bright, melting you. “I am so fucking excited.”

“I am too!” Jin Shi and Mao Mao stand now, and your eyes catch theirs, seeing their smiles on their faces.

“I’ll help as much as I can while I’m here,” Jin Shi says with a bow. Mao Mao inclines her head as well.

“As will I.”

“I have no way to thank you enough for saving her,” Satoru’s hand grips your waist tightly, the emotion rushing in his voice.

“I am glad to see such love,” she says, and clearly the advisor agrees, leaving the two of you alone. It’s moments before Satoru’s kissing you, having you sitting right across his lap, fingers mapping your skin, committing it to memory.

“I fucking missed you,” he murmurs. “I hate not seeing you all day.”

“I know, soon things will calm down. I hope,” your hand sits over his, a pretty grin on your face. “A baby.”

“A baby,” he kisses down your neck, and your lashes flutter, shifting in a way that has him throbbing. “Don’t move like that, mngh…”

“C-can’t help it,” you admit, your hand entangling in his silky white locks, tugging ever so gently, he practically purrs, earning your giggle. “We have much to speak of, I believe, before we get to really enjoy ourselves.”

Satoru leans back a bit, his eyes that pretty clear blue, nodding now. “We do have much to speak of, sweetheart. But first? I’d like more kisses.”

His lips descend back on yours, stealing your breath – with much left to worry for – Lola, Suguru, the council, a healthy pregnancy – the most important thing was right here. Being in Satoru’s arms, and enjoying every little kiss, before more serious talks had to occur, before you got to just enjoy your husband in the baths, enjoy him all to yourself soon.

Yet for now, this kiss steals every thought in both your minds.

Patreon - Comms <3

[erenlav]

rain softly tapped against the window while you were folded under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep. 

satoru walks in, drenched from the rain. he shrugged off his soaked jacket and kicked off his shoes. he sighed, walking into the living room,

“baby, im home.” he calls out softly.

silence.

he frowned, that was unusual.

“baby?” he calls out again.

silence again.

it was only 5pm. there was no way you’re sleeping, satoru thought, until he saw you.

laying there like a cat, your lips slightly parted, both hands under your head.

“god baby..” he murmured, unable to hold back the smile forming on his face. he crouched down beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

youu looked so soft, so peaceful. he couldnt remember the last time he has seen you like this. no cute pouty lips or furrowed brows. just you... he couldn’t help himself. 

his thumb traced your cheek just for a second before he leaned down, softly and carefully pressing a light kiss to your forehead. 

“so pretty..”

a/n: last post kinda crying ˶ˊᜊˋ˶ (pinned)

[lacquerheadd]

show me your teeth

[missblushie]

ℒittle flower. 𝐈

࣪ ⠀太⠀𝖘ummary⠀ 💬🌸⠀⠀ ׅ Tengen swore he wouldn’t cross the line. Swore you were nothing but a girl. Swore he’d keep his hands off you. But deep down he knew he was lying from the start. He knew he was going to ruin everything just to taste you. | PART 𝐈𝐈

❤︎⠀ 𝖙ags 𓈒⠀ ⠀꣹ ⠀ Tengen Uzui x f! reader, smut with plot but the plot is feral, infidelity, cheating and not even a little sorry, obsessed tengen, kind of stalker behavior, mentions of violence, blood, reader gets verbally harassed in one scene, kind of tsundere tengen, praise kink, size kink, breeding kink, first time for reader but it's never mentioned, fingering f recieving, p in v unprotected, a lot of dirty talk, he pleads a lot, pet names, soft dom energy for a bit, belly bulge, big dick TM tengen.

𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ノ ⬞ ׄ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ㅤ♰ second fic yeppeee!! guys hold on tight this one is like 8k words long ㅜㅜㅜㅜㅜ i hope you enjoy it, pls let me know if you have requests !! i write for multiple fandoms. if i missed any tags please let me know !!! not betad yet so expect some changes.

You were humming a song when he first saw you. Well, heard you.

A song so faint it felt like something long forgotten, or remembered by accident. The kind of song a child might hum while plucking apples at dawn.

Tengen Uzui had just returned to the Butterfly Mansion after nearly a month away. A simple wound, really, nothing worth a fuss, but Shinobu had insisted, and well, even a Sound Hashira couldn’t argue with poison in the bloodstream.

He was walking the corridor past the tailoring room when he heard you. A voice like honey stirred into warm tea. Not loud, not flashy. Not like him at all.

Through the open sliding door, he glimpsed at you for the first time.

A new tailor, clearly, your face unfamiliar, your hair tucked back in a silken scarf. You were sitting cross legged in the center of the room, a swatch of pale haori spread across your lap, hands busy with neat, delicate mending.

He might’ve kept walking.

But you tilted your head just slightly, lips still humming, and the light caught on your lashes. You smiled to yourself, perhaps at the evenness of your stitches, perhaps at nothing in particular.

Something about that smile made him still in his step.

There was nothing remarkable about the scene, not really. No dramatic lighting, no gust of wind, no gods sent sign, all though he could see the blossoming sakura trees out the window behind you, their petals raining down. And yet something in him stirred. Unfamiliar. Soft. Like lace sliding off a blade.

He stood there too long. Way too long.

You didn’t look up. You didn’t see him. That alone was strange. Uzui Tengen was not used to being overlooked. He's a God. He didn’t say a word.

Tengen took one step back, then another. Left as silently as he’d come. But even after he walked away, he couldn't stop thinking about you.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

A few days passed before he saw you again. A clean tear across the lower hem of his uniform gave him the excuse. It wasn’t bad, Hinatsuru could’ve fixed it in ten minutes, but he wrapped it carefully and left the house with a lie half formed in his mouth.

The walk to the Butterfly Mansion was unusually quiet. But his heartbeat wasn’t. It wasn’t about the uniform. Not really.

He told himself he’d forgotten about you. That whatever spell you’d cast when he first saw you stitching in that room, with the falling flowers in the background, has long faded since.

But the truth was what he wasn’t willing to admit, yet.

His steps slowed as he neared the sewing room. He didn’t even knock at first, he just stood there in the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest, watching. Maybe shying away.

Huh. Tengen Uzui isn't shy. He's a God.

You were there again. Bent gently over a pile of cloth, again humming something faint and wordless, lips pursed in concentration, a tiny crease between your brows.

You didn’t notice him until he cleared his throat.

You startled, not with a jump, but a soft flinch, and when you looked up, your eyes went wide.

"Uzui-sama!" you gasped, already pushing back from the table, skirts brushing the floor. "Forgive me— I didn’t hear you come in—"

You bowed once. Then again. Hands flitting like butterflies, fingers wringing. "I’m sorry for the mess, I was just— just finishing up a seam— I didn’t know you were—"

He lifted one hand, stopping you mid apology. "You don’t have to do all that" he said "I’m not your daimyo."

His voice was easy, bored even. But he didn’t stop watching. Didn’t stop the way his gaze dragged down, slow as syrup, over your bowed form. You stayed kneeling beside the low table, heart skipping in your chest like a startled fawn.

And he didn’t look away. Didn’t ask you to rise. He enjoyed seeing you like that. He laid the folded uniform on the table between you. "Tore the hem. Figured I’d bring it in before it got worse."

You nodded quickly, already reaching for the bundle, fingers brushing over the fabric with reverence. "It’s not too bad. I can have this mended by tomorrow afternoon."

"That fast?"

"I try to be efficient, Uzui-sama!"

You were trying very hard not to look at him. But he was there, tall, golden, too much. You felt it in the heat rising in your cheeks, and the flutter in your belly. The way he stood without moving, like a statue carved from amber and sun. The rumors were correct. He did look unreal.

You worked quietly, inspecting the seam, smoothing it out. He didn’t speak again. Just watched. Like he had all the time in the world, even though he said he'll get back home that same day.

"I should introduce myself." you said, sitting back on your heels. "I’m the new tailor here." Then you gave your name, and you were a little breathless.

And then he said it back to you. Like an echo dropped down a well. Your whole chest burned. He nodded once with sharp chin tilting.

"Alright then." you looked down, hands curling in your lap. You weren’t sure what else to say.

He turned toward the door, then paused. "I’ll pick it up tomorrow."

You nodded quickly. "Yes, Uzui-sama."

He left without looking back.

But that night, he didn’t sleep again. Not because of battle wounds, or old ghosts, or even his wives’ soft voices curled around him in the dark.

Your name. That one, tiny thing, it kept him up all night.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Another morning for you of the same old.

You carry a bundle of folded kosode to the little stall in the village square, where some of the younger slayers exchange worn pieces for repairs. The sun is soft through the mist, the wind just gentle enough to lift the hems of your sleeves. You think the rain will fall soon.

You’re alone. For a little while. Until you aren’t.

A man steps into your path. Civilian, tall, with too many teeth in his smile and a type of stare that makes your stomach pull tight.

"Well now.." he says, eyes dragging down your chest. "They’re lettin’ girls like you dress the Corps these days?"

You blink. Stiffening. "I’m— excuse me—" You try to push past him.

"Aw, don’t be like that." He steps closer. His breath is sour. "Bet you take special requests, huh? From your higher-ups." Your hands grip the cloth tighter.

"Please move." But he doesn’t.

He leans in, low enough to make you flinch, and you can smell the alcohol in his breath. "I could tear something right now. Want to fix that for me, sweetheart?" A sharp spike of fear floods your chest.

You look around and see a woman across the road. Two shopkeepers. An older man leaning on a cane.

Someone shouts. "Hey!" You manage to slip by him.

The man’s eyes flash. "Tch. Fuckin’ bitch." And then he’s gone after being shoved back by a younger slayer who must’ve seen the whole thing.

You’re left shaking. Breath caught in your throat. The bundle of cloths limp in your arms. Someone takes you aside. Someone offers tea. Someone asks if you’re alright. You nod, because it’s easier than explaining the ache in your lungs. You nod, because you are alright.

Mostly. Nothing happened. Nothing really happened.

You don’t go back to the mansion for a while. But when you do, that night, under the wash of stars, you find Uzui Tengen waiting in the hallway.

He looks like he’s just returned from a mission. There’s a cut on his cheek and shadow in his eyes. "Tailor girl." he instructs. "Come here."

You stop midstep. "Yes, Uzui-sama?"

"I said, come here."

You move to him slowly. Nervously. And when you reach him, he lifts his hand to touch your arm. Gently.

"Are you alright?" You flinch but smile up at him.

"I am fine."

"Something happen today?" You hesitate. He notices. His hand tightens. "Someone hurt you?"

"No. I’m fine, truly. It was just—someone said some things. It wasn’t a big deal." His face darkens.

"What kind of things?"

"Just words." you say. "It’s over now. A few people stepped in."

He moves back, just once and nods stiffly. Then he leaves.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

You don’t need to know.

The moon is high. Pale and watchful. And Tengen is already halfway into the village. His long hair swings with each step. His jaw is locked. Every footfall thuds heavier than the last.

He doesn’t run. He hunts.

Just words you said. But your eyes said something else. Your hands trembled. Your mouth pressed tight. You didn’t want to worry him. Didn’t know that you already do.

The bastard’s name took five minutes to get. Someone saw. Someone whispered, then someone told him where that piece of shit likes to loiter, behind the sake house, under the back stairs.

That’s where he finds him. Leaning on the wall, half-drunk, shirt open, muttering to himself. Tengen doesn’t speak. He doesn’t give a warning. He grabs the man by the collar and slams him against the wooden wall so hard it cracks.

"What the fuㅡ"

Another slam. Wood splinters fly up around him.

"Pleaseㅡ" the man chokes, "I didn’t do nothing!"

"You spoke to her." His voice is low. Deadly. "You touched her."

"I didn’t! I just said—"

A punch. Hard enough to knock some teeth loose. The man howls, blood spraying across the dirt. Tengen doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.

His fist meets jaw. Meets ribs. Meets gut. The man drops to the ground and he goes with him, grabbing the front of his yukata and dragging him up only to hit him again, again, again.

"You don’t speak to her."

Crack.

"You don’t look at her."

Crack.

"You don’t breathe near her."

Blood stains his hands. The man sobs. Whimpers. Curls into himself like a dog. Tengen exhales hard and drops him. "Be grateful I didn’t kill you." The man doesn’t answer. Can’t. His mouth is full of blood and broken teeth.

Tengen turns. His knuckles are raw. His breath burns in his chest. But all he can think about is your voice, your doe, teary eyes. The way you smiled like nothing had happened. He keeps walking until he's back at the Mansion.

The hallway is silent at this hour. The walls of the Butterfly Mansion seem to breathe, wood creaking gently, the wind sighing through paper doors. Tengen walks without sound, barefoot, still blood slicked.

Your room is near the end. It's small, tucked away and lavender scented. He would know. He stands outside it for a long time. Long enough that a sane man would have walked away.

But he doesn’t. He slides the door open just enough to slip in, closing it behind him with a soft click. Moonlight pools across your futon, washing over your sleeping form. One hand curled near your cheek. Your chest rising and falling slowly. Hair loose across your pillow like spilled ink. He stands there, not moving.

His face is wet with blood and sweat. His eyes roam over you. Careful. Hungry. So hungry. He just watches. Drinking in the peace he doesn’t deserve.

At one point, you shift. A soft sound escapes your throat, and his whole body tenses, poised like a predator, afraid like a boy.

But you don’t wake. He stays only a moment longer, then slips away, leaving nothing behind but the faint smell of iron.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

It’s Mitsuri who mentions it. She's babbling about cake, about confetti, about surprises, and then she says your name, laughing brightly.

"Did you know today’s her birthday? The little seamstress! Isn’t she the cutest?"

Tengen stiffens. Doesn’t say anything. Mitsuri blinks. "Oh? Didn’t you two talk the other day?"

He nods slowly. "I didn’t know."

"Well, now you do!" she says, pouting. "Better get her something before the day’s over! She works really hard."

He brushes it off. Shrugs. "I don’t do birthdays."

But that night he’s standing in a shop in the merchant quarter, scowling at tiny boxes with shaking fingers.

He picks a hair clip. It’s small. Elegant. Pearl inlaid. Shaped like a chrysanthemum.

When he gives it to you the next day, he’s awkward. Which is not like him. So not like him.

"Don’t read into it" he says, handing you the tiny box without meeting your eyes. "Mitsuri said it was your birthday. That’s all." Your fingers brush his when you take it and he twitches.

You speak up. "I dont know from where she knows... But, Mitsuri-San is so thoughtful. She brought me American pancakes this morning." He hums.

You open the box slowly, and when you see what’s inside, your eyes go wide. "Oh!" you breathe, like the wind’s been knocked out of you. "It’s beautiful!" You look up, glowing. "Thank you so much, Tengen-sama! I’ll treasure it."

He crosses his arms, looking off to the side. "It’s just a clip." But he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like a fool. His ears are red and his heart won’t stop hammering.

And when he sees you put it in your hair, he already knows he won't sleep a damn minute.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Some more weeks pass. He's here more and more and his wives are asking him more and more questions. It hurts him to lie, really, but he feels so alive knowing he gets to see you everyday.

Is it that wrong? He thought this would go away, thought fucking away his feelings might work, but it's pointless.

What is wrong with him?

He's awakened from his deep thoughts when his fingertips graze something soft. He finds a handkerchief. Tucked between folded linens in the supply room, smelling faintly of lavender and honey. A neat corner embroidered with tiny stitched flowers. Not your name, but he knows it’s yours. He recognizes your threads now the way a soldier recognizes his blade.

He touches it without thinking, brushes his thumb over the edge. There’s a smear of pink there.

Lip balm? Lipstick?

He brings it to his nose before he can stop himself. Something stirs low in his stomach. Shame. Hunger. Guilt.

"Fuck." he mutters with his voice rough, snatching his hand back like he’s been burned. What the hell is he doing?

You're just a girl.

Just a soft spoken girl with careful hands and beautiful eyes who bows way too much when she speaks and smiles so gently it makes his heart feel too big for his ribs.

A girl.

He balls the handkerchief in his fist and walks out without folding the linens back. He needs air. He needs distance. He needs to get you out of his head.

But that night, he dreams of your mouth around his aching cock, as he he pumps himself with one hand and with the other keeps the handkerchief smelling like you close to his nose.

Who could've seen this coming?

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

You were just walking back from the market, a little paper bag in your hands. You’d bought too many skewers of dango. You’re never good at saying no when the vendor smiles like that.

And then you see Tengen Uzui, leaning against a shaded post, wiping sweat from his neck. Shirt open. Eyes dark. He sees you and straightens himself.

"You’re out early." he says, voice unreadable as always.

You bow too fast, early drop the bag. "Uzui-Sama. Yes—! I just— had a market run."

His gaze flicks to the bag. "Is that dango?" You blink.

"Oh! Yes, um. Way too much, honestly. I—" He holds out his hand. "Then share."

Your eyes widen, but you offer him a stick. He takes it and chews slowly. You watch, embarrassed, but he says nothing. "Do you like it?" you ask, shyly.

He swallows, and you swear something shifts in his expression. "It’s good. Too sweet, though." You smile faintly. "I like really sweet things." His eyes flicker to your mouth as you chew.

"So do I." he says.

That night he dreams of you. Again.

Not the kind of dream he can laugh off in the morning, not a flickering day image or idle thought curled into his pillow. This one touched every part of him. He wakes up hard and aching.

Your voice had called to him in the dark. Your hands had slid against his jaw. Your lips had parted like they knew him inside and out. It felt so real. Too real.

So he comes to you. Still dressed in the clothes he slept in, hair undone, the sky outside barely greyed. He doesn’t even knock, just slips in through the side door, past the empty corridor, breath loud in his chest.

You’re there, hunched beside a workbench this early, smoothing out a sleeve with steady, practiced hands.

When you look up, surprise flickers across your face. Then soft delight, and then concern.

"Tengen-sama?"

"Please—" His voice cuts through the morning hush. "Don’t speak." You blink.

"I need to tell you something." he says, walking toward you "I’ve been holding it in for the past three months. I thought if I ignored it, it would go away, but it hasn’t. Not even once."

You straighten, heart fluttering too close to your throat.

"I think about you." he says. "More than I should. More than is fair. I’ve dreamed of you. Iㅡ I’ve wanted you. Not just your body, but your breath, your laughter, your eyes when you concentrate, the way you look at me when I speak. I’ve memorized your damn footsteps, and it’s hell, it’s driving me insane."

You inhale too quickly.

"But don’t you have wives?" you whisper.

His face twists. "I do." he says. "I do. And I love them! I swear it. But you— fuck." His voice splinters. "You’re in my veins. You’re in everything. I try to shut it down but it only gets louder. And when I’m near you, it’s like I finally… breathe."

You don’t know what to say. So you just smile. Small. And sad. A little crumb of a thing.

"I’m really flattered." you answer softly. "That someone as honorable and strong as you wouldㅡ would feel something like that for someone as insignificant as me."

"No."

His voice is low as he moves closer. "You’re not insignificant. Don’t ever say that. Please." He lifts one hand and touches your face like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he presses too hard. His thumb ghosts over your cheek. And then he leans in so slow you could have stopped him. But you don’t.

His mouth brushes yours rapidly but just as fast he pulls back. "I’m sorry." he breathes, anguish flashing across his face. "I shouldn’t—"

"No." you whisper. "It's alright."

He searches your face. "You’re sure?" You nod.

"You.. can kiss me, Tengen-sama."

And he does.

This time, it’s full of breath, of heat, of all the months he’s held back. His hand tangles in your hair, the other cradling your jaw, pulling you in like you’re the last soft thing left in the world.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Ever since that kiss, he’s been different. You feel it in the way his shadow lingers outside your door. In the way his voice softens only for you. In the way he finds a reason to see you nearly every day. It is all way to evident.

A loose seam. A torn uniform hem. A spare button, missing. He’s never been this involved in fabric care.

You’re bent over your work when he appears, broad silhouette darkening the doorway. "Again?" you say with a small smile. "You must be the most destructively dressed man alive."

Tengen doesn’t smile. Not really. He steps inside and closes the door. Your fingers falter on the spool. He watches you.

"Have you been avoiding me?" he asks.

You blink. "You’ve been here almost every day." You joke, trying to break the tension, like you always do.

"I think you should just move into my sewing room at this point."

He huffs a dry laugh. You laugh too. But neither of you is really laughing. Silence curls between you. His eyes find you. And you see it in them that something’s come undone in him.

"I dream about you." he says. Your heart jumps. You blink. "Yes, you have mentioned that beforeㅡ"

"No."

He walks forward. "You." he repeats, as if putting the fault on you. "Every night. Every damn night. I can't sleep, eat, speak. I think about your hands. Your smile. The way you bite your lip when you try to fix something."

He stops in front of you. "That kiss ruined me even more."

You look up, breath stuck in your throat. He lowers his voice shaken. Your lips part, but no words come.

He needs more than a kiss.

"I want to touch you." he confesses. "I want to ruin you."

Heat floods your cheeks and your throat closes up.

"I think about it all of the time." he continues, voice gravel. "About the way you'd sound. How you'd look beneath me. About the things I’d whisper in your ear while I made you cry with pleasure."

Your knees press together as your mouth goes dry.

"And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong. I have three beautiful wives. I’m not supposed to want anyone else, you said all that. But gods." he exhales. "You make me forget myself."

You clutch the edge of the table, fingers trembling. He leans down, eyes burning holes into your face.

"I want to get on my knees for you, worship you. I want to taste every inch of you. I want to make you fall apart with just my fingers, just my mouth—"

"Tengen-sama—" you whisper hurriedly.

"Say my name." he instructs. "Just my name."

Your lips part. "Tengen.."

He groans low and broken, and cups your cheeks. He doesn’t kiss you. Just holds your face like it’s the most precious of metals, waiting for you to say something. Anything.

"Wouldn’t you.ㅡ" you whisper barely "Wouldn’t you want our first night to be… more special?"

He blinks. Did you want him just as much?

You swallow. "Not just… rushed. But something meaningful?"

And for the first time, he looks stunned. Then he lets out a shaky laughing breath.

"Ohㅡ Oh my muse..." His forehead falls to yours, and you feel him smiling. "You’re right." he murmurs. "You’re right. What was I thinking? I’m just a man. A weak, obsessed and broken man."

His hands cradle your face. "I’m going to make it perfect." he promises. "I’ll make it so beautiful for you. You won’t forget it for the rest of your life."

You smile all shy. "You don’t have to go that far.."

"I do." he says. "Because it’s you."

You should feel bad, really. But when his large eyes stare back into yours with that hopeful sparkle in them, all of that fades away.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Some days passed.

Tengen’s hands are meticulous as they arrange the room in a hidden villa tucked away in the mountains, far from curious eyes. One of his old performance hideouts. He dusted it, aired it, scrubbed it with his own hands. Changed the sheets three times before they were soft enough. Sprinkled crushed plum blossom into the bath. Polished every candleholder, lit them with trembling fingers.

He’s sweating through his clothes.

The table by the window is set. Handmade sweets. Fruit sliced into roses. A single porcelain cup. There’s a bottle of plum wine, unopened, because he wants to watch your lips stain dark and sticky.

The bed is layered in silk with pale lavender and soft white, like you. The air smells like sakura and honey.

And in the center of it all, a gift. It’s not much. Just a comb. Gold filigree, inlaid with amethyst, the color of twilight. He bought it a month ago and has carried it ever since. It’s warm from his touch when he sets it down on the pillow.

When everything is finally perfect, he heads home to his three loving wives.

The silence in the Uzui estate is louder than any battle drum. Tengen steps through the door just past dusk, the scent of sandalwood still clinging faintly to his sleeves.

His wives are seated around the table, Suma with her brows knit in worry, Hinatsuru with her usual softness turned taut, Makio staring down at the food she hasn’t touched.

He notices it immediately. The tension spills in the air like smoke. "Welcome home." Hinatsuru says, but it’s brittle. Makio doesn’t even look up. "Where’ve you been?"

Tengen removes his haori with a long motion. "There was a mission."

"There’s always a mission." Makio bites.

Suma pipes up, her voice small. "It’s been happening a lot lately. You’re… always gone."

He smiles the kind that once made them melt. Now, it feels thinner and forced.

"You think I don’t want to be here? With my radiant, perfect women?"

Makio’s gaze sharpens. "Don’t treat us like we’re stupid."

Tengen doesn’t flinch. Instead, he moves across the room, kneeling before them. "I would never." he says, voice deep and smooth as molten honey. "You three are my soul. My pride. You think I’d risk everything we’ve built, everything we’ve suffered for, on some meaningless indulgence?"

Suma blinks. "Then… why do you feel so far away?" He exhales heavily and leans forward, taking her hand, then Hinatsurus.

"You want the truth?" he sighs. "I’ve been training harder. Pushing myself. I can’t afford to be weak when I’ve got three precious lives depending on me."

"Why the secrecy then?" Makio asks, but her voice has softened. "Because I didn’t want to worry you."

He lifts her chin, eyes glittering. "You know how I get when I take a mission personally. When someone gets under my skin. But it’s not about you. You’re my family. You’re the ones I fight for."

Suma is crying. Hinatsuru pulls him close. Makio leans into him, breathing out slowly. And just like that, the tension is gone.

He’s still the man they married. Isn't he?

They fall asleep soon after, curled into him, believing every word.

The next day is uneventful, but he makes sure to spend every second of it with them.

As soon as night hits again Tengen doesn’t stay.

The air shifts the moment he enters his dressing room. He sheds his clothes like it’s armor after a long war. Washes his face, his hands. Scrubs the scent of his wives off his skin. Stares at his reflection with something close to guilt. Or maybe awe?

"You." he whispers under his breath. "What have you done to me?" His hand hovers over his cologne that's faintly spicy. You once told him you liked the way cloves smelled. He never forgot.

He picks out a silk lined robe in deep garnet. No armor. No weapons. Just him. His heart races.

In the drawer where he keeps his cufflinks, there’s a soft thing wrapped in tissue. A little embroidered corner of fabric. One of your handkerchiefs, fraying at the edge. He presses it to his lips then puts it back.

Then, as a final detail, he tucks a single flower into his belt, fresh from the garden. Pale and pretty. You mentioned, once, how much you missed flowers from your hometown. Something dainty, something that reminds him of you.

He looks in the mirror once more. Adjusts his collar touches his neck, still flushed and he walks out the door.

You got to the villa first, as he told you.

When you walk in you can't believe your eyes at how beautiful everything looked. Couldn’t believe that he actually did all of this for you.

You wear something soft, something sheer, something that shimmers when you move, your hair is down and you smell of rose wine and early spring.

You sit there with your hands folded in your lap, nervous, glowing, and you don’t even realize how utterly lethal you are.

The door slides open with a creak. You don’t turn. Tengen stands there for a moment, silent. You know he’s watching you, the way your robe clings to your shoulders, how your hair spills loose down your back as a cascade in summer, the way you shift slightly, fingers wringing the fabric in your lap.

He breathes in sharply, like he’s been punched. Like your beauty physically strikes him in the chest. You rise slowly, head tilted, a shy smile touching your lips.

"Tengen." you murmur. His hands clench. He doesn’t move closer. Not yet. He’s afraid that if he does, the hunger in him will swallow the whole room.

The whole night. You.

"Don't speak yet." he says. "Please don’t say a word yet. Let me look at you." Your eyes widen, and he can see the stars in them. Your hands flutter nervously against your skirt.

He smiles, shy. Unlike him.

"You look.." he begins softly "Unreal."

The way you stare at him, your plush lips, your smile. And your scent. Gods. You smell like blossoms and innocence and want.

You laugh, but your voice wavers. "You did all of this?" You look around.

His hands twitch at his sides. "For you." He takes one step forward.

"I’ve dreamed of this very moment for so long. Of you like this." His voice is thick and hoarse. "So many nights. I see you when I’m awake, too.. Your smile in my mind when I touch my wives. Your voice when I lie to them. I think about your hands. Your skin. I think about what you sound like when you say my name all out of breath."

Your lips part. You tremble, slightly.

You should feel guilty right about now, no?

His voice is quiet, like it costs him to say it.

You still don’t turn. You feel him step closer. Hear the hush of his silken haori, the soft thud of his knees hitting the tatami behind you. And then warm hands cradle your face from behind.

He presses his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

He moves, slowly, around you. And then he’s kneeling in front of you proud, dazzling, yet scared some way.

"I’ve imagined this a thousand ways. You in candlelight. You in shadows. You beneath me, above me. You begging, whispering my name like it’s the only word left in the world."

Your lips open but he shakes his head gently. His thumb brushes your lower lip. "You don’t know what it’s been like" he says, almost angry with longing. "To want something this badly. To see you every time I close my eyes. To crave you. Want you. Need you."

His hands slide down, slow, to your waist.

"I thought I had control. I thought I could keep my hands to myself. I can’t." His forehead presses to yours.

"I want to ruin you so gently. So sweetly. I want you breathless and shaking beneath me. I want you weeping from pleasure and still asking for more."

You smile a bit impatient and he kisses your palm. "Tengen?" You shy away a bit and he looks at you like you've just slashed his heart. "Yes, my beautiful flower?"

"Pleaseㅡ just kiss me already."

He doesn't need to hear more. This time, it’s not soft. It’s hungry. Desperate. His hands cradle your face like a relic. His lips claim yours like a sinner at the altar. You melt into him. You gasp against his mouth, he moans into yours. "This feels unreal." he laughs like it hurts.

Your heart races, the air is thick with anticipation. You don’t answer him. You just let him decide. Let him take that final step into what he’s been yearning for since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Oh, to have you at my mercy..."

Your body responds before your mind can catch up, your hands find his chest, your fingers trembling, and the softness of your touch makes him shudder. His lips brush your neck, feather soft. "May I undress you?"

Your breath catches. You nod all shy and he closes his eyes like that one gesture was a wish answered. His hands move with ceremony, slow and trembling with restraint. He unties the bow at your collar, brushes aside the fabric like it’s woven from morning mist. Each layer falls away under his careful touch, revealing more of you, inch by aching inch. His eyes never leave your face.

"You’re divine. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My beautiful flower."

You blush so fiercely it burns. You reach to cover yourself out of instinct, but he catches your wrists, firmly. "No." he commads. "Let me see you. Please."

He leans in, mouth brushing over your shoulder, the curve of your collarbone, soft kisses that worship your burning skin. Your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

"Tengen.. I—I don’t know what to do.”

He smiles against your skin, and it’s soft. It's real. You're unreal. "Just be mine." he says.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly he’s laying you down, careful like you’re porcelain, and you reach for him like you're afraid he'd let go.

He looms above you, eyes wild. "Beg me." And your breath halts. His large hands are on either side of your head, his body caging yours. "Beg me, my love." he murmurs, like it’s the gentlest thing in the world he could say, even though it is so dirty. "Let me hear how much you want me."

And oh, you want him. Your face heats. You try to look away but he tilts your chin up, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

"Please." you whisper, shaky. "Tengen— please touch m-me."

A sound rips from him, low and helpless. His mouth crashes to yours again, like he’s starving. Like you’re the only meal he’s ever wanted.

In a way, you are.

He breaks away just enough to look down at you. His hair’s come loose, falling around his face like threads of silk. His pupils are blown wide, his mouth damp.

"Oh, my little flower." he whispers and lowers himself slowly and kisses your exposed ribs, your stomach, the plush of your hip.

He growls something low in his throat, a sound more animal than man, his hands are everywhere, desperate. "Fuckㅡ look at you." he mutters, like he’s in pain.

His lips trail fire across your nipples as he licks at them. "I’m not going to be so gentle, I can't." he warns, breathless. "Not tonight. I’ve waited too long."

His rough fingers pull at your undergarments and you jolt, embarrassed, overwhelmed and you try to turn your face away, but he catches your chin again.

"No" he commands “Eyes on me. That’s it. Look at me while I touch you.” You do. You force yourself to, and he smiles. His hand slips off the fabric, and your whole body goes tense.

"Shh." he whispers, eyes burning into yours. "There.. Well done. I’m gonna take care of you." he says. "Every inch. Every sound you make. I want to hear it all. I want to teach your body how good it can feel. Can I do that for you, my love?" You nod, lips parted, dazed with heat. He leans in close again, mouth at your ear.

His fingers dip lower and you gasp. He watches your face, obsessed with every little reaction. "Damn, you’re already so wet... All for me." You gasp, arch under his touch, and he moans. "Tell me you’re mine." he growls. "Tell me, Come on."

"I-I am yours" you whisper. "Oh, Tengen, please—"

He drags his mouth down again, hot and hungry, teeth grazing tender skin. "I want to make you scream. I want you ruined." he pants, pressing kisses just above your exposed core.

"So ruined you forget your own name and can only remember mine." His hand replaces his mouth and you gasp, back arching. "That’s it. Thaaat’s it. Let me hear you. Louder."

One of his thick digits poked at your dripping entrance before he finally pushes it inside, all whilst his mouth sucks at the shiny skin of your folds, your juices mixing up with his saliva, as soft wet sounds and your little whimpers fill the room. He pulls his mouth away to speak, finger still curled inside of you.

You whimper and he smiles, all dark.

"I’ve thought about tying you up. he says, confessing. "Laying you out on silk sheets, blindfolded. Just your body, waiting for me. Dripping for me. I’d take my time. Tease you until you’re sobbing. Until you can’t even remember what it feels like not to need me."

He makes a short pause to add another finger inside.

"Sometimes I think about keeping you... Locked away. Pretty little pet. No one else gets to see you. Just me. Just these sounds—" he curls his fingers again and your moan shatters the room. "Oh, just like that."

Your thighs start shake, yet he doesn’t let up.

"I’d ruin you every night." he sighs. "Leave you shaking and marked. My name bruised into your skin. My mouth between your thighs until you can’t breathe, until you forget how to speak— except to beg."

You gasp his name again, overwhelmed. He presses his forehead to your belly.

"I want to make you need me." Another finger goes in and you see stars. "So badly it hurts. I want to own every sound you make. Every part of you. I want your first thought in the morning to be me. I want you crying into my pillow because you’re still sore but you still want more."

He slows just for a second, just to feel the little pulse in your cunt. "I think about you walking around with my seed inside you.My scent all over your body. Marked. Owned. Loved so good you never recover."

Your nails dig into the sheets below you. "You’d take it for me, wouldn’t you?" he pants. "Whatever I give you. However I want. You’d let me use you, keep you, worship you, because you’re mine. You’re mine, right? Say it again. Please, say it."

"I am yoursㅡ" you choke out. "T-Tengen, I’m yours!"

You come undone on his fingers, gasping, writhing, your pussy clenching, slick gushing around him in wet pulses he feels all the way up his arm.

And he just watches, stunned and mesmerized, lips parted like he’s witnessing some divine miracle. You sound holy. You look holy.

"Fuck." his voice is hoarse. "You’re so beautiful."

You’re still shaking when he pulls his fingers out, slow, glistening. Then his gaze drops to your mouth.

"Open." Tengen breathes. It takes you a bit to register, but you do, puffy lips parting soft and obedient, and he groans, the sound deep as he slides the soaked fingers past your lips.

"There." he murmurs, watching your mouth take him in, knuckles deep. "That’s it. Suck. Come on. Clean them off for me." You close your lips around him and his head falls back.

"Damn, that's, ohㅡ Just like that."

You swirl your tongue, shy at first, then bolder when you hear the way he loses it, grinding against you, cock hard and aching and leaking at the tip.

"Gods, l-look at you." he stutters. "Sweet little thing, licking your own mess like a perfect pet."

You whimper around his fingers. He pulls them out slow, watches the spit and slick string between them and your lips, and then drags his thumb down your chin.

"I should make you suck my cock next." he whispers. "Make you beg for it. Let you choke on it while I hold your hair and tell you all the filthy things I’m gonna do to you next."

Then he kisses you. He tastes your juices on your tongue, and it drives him mad. "You’re mine" he pats roughly at your cheek. "You understand that? I own every inch of you from now on."

He shifts back, slowly, kneeling above you, eyes raking over your flushed skin, your messy lips, your dazed expression. "You’re so good for me." Then his hands go to his robes.

He unties the sash slowly and lets it slide off his shoulders, fabric whispering down muscle and skin like water. You barely have time to gasp before your eyes drop, and you finally see it.

Oh...

Oh.

You don’t even mean to whimper. It just escapes you. A soft, panicked noise as your eyes widen and your whole body tenses.

He’s huge.

Thick and flushed and dripping, so hard, with veins standing out along the length, the head angry red and glistening. And it curves up heavy against his abs, obscene, like it was carved to wreck you.

You make a tiny sound in your throat and scramble back on the sheets, panic and arousal tangling in your gut. He just smirks.

"Oh." he coos, voice low and smug. "Look at you. Don't be scared of it." You shake your head, eyes still wide, heart hammering in your chest.

"You’ll take it" he purrs. "You’ll be good for me. Let me stretch you nice and slow. Let me feel this tight cunt open up around me inch by inch."

Your breath hitches and your thighs press together.

"I’ll make it fit, dear. I’ll go slow. I’ll be so good to you."

He leans down, brushing his lips over your jaw, your neck, your racing pulse. He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Come on, little flower." he almost whines. "Lay down."

It's like your body listens to him before you even hear him. You obey his command, and lay down, and despite the fear, you feel yourself more slick than before, skin blushed and lips hurting from how much you nipped at them.

His hand runs down your side, warm and steady, until it curls under your knee, guiding your leg up to wrap around his waist. His other hand settles at your hip, holding you just so. He looks down at you like you’re made of glass, pupils wide, his cock heavy and flushed, nudging at your entrance.

"I’ll be gentle for now. You’re gonna take me so good, little flower. Just breathe for me."

You nod and then he starts to push in. It is painful, that in itself would be an understatement. It feels unreal how full you feel with just the tip in. Your body opens inch by inch, tight and trembling around the stretch. You clutch at the sheets, back arching, gasping his name as he groans low in his chest.

"Shhh, I have you." he soothes, forehead pressed to yours. "Feels too big, doesn’t it? But you’re doing so good."

You whimper, clinging to him, and he doesn’t move, just stays there, buried only halfway, letting you adjust. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, your lips, hands caressing your sides, trying to soothe you, even as his cock throbs inside you.

"T-Tengen...Ohㅡ" your eyes well up with more tears as he pushes some more inside, and you swear you're being ripped apart. He waits for a bit, whispering sweet things, but then your legs curl tighter around his waist, pulling him down.

And something in him snaps.

His breath stutters. He pulls back just slightly, and then slams back in. You cry out, body jerking beneath him, and he growls, low and filthy.

"Oh fuck— you want it like that? Huh?" His hand shoots under your thigh, yanking your legs up over one of his shoulder. You can’t even speak, your mouth is open, your voice caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. He braces one hand on the bed, the other gripping your thigh, holding you down as he starts to pound into you, deep and merciless, over and over.

"Listen to you." he pants. “Crying for me—oh, this pussy’s so tight, mph, so good, squeezing me like it was made for me." You’re shaking, tears sliding from the corners of your eyes, tongue lulled out, your body overwhelmed and overstimulated, your brain blank.

"T-Tengen! Oh, myㅡ I can't.." You whimper, ear ringing, you can faintly hear the wet sounds your cunt makes wrapped around him. Tengen growls, teeth bared.

"You can take it. You’re gonna take every inch I give you." Your vision blurs. You can barely breathe, barely think. You want to speak, but can't, you're drugged on him out of your mind, drunk on his voice and smell and the way he feels so deep inside of you.

"That’s it." he whimpers. "Cry for me, little flower. Let it all out." He looks down, eyes catching the bulge he's made inside your lower belly as the loud plap plap plap sound fills the room.

Your body trembles beneath him, boneless and burning. The world narrows down to the weight of him above you, the way his breath stutters near your ear, the press of his hand between your ribs and waist as though he's holding you together and keeping you from unraveling entirely.

"You’re taking it so well"

His forehead presses to yours. Sweat beads at his temple, his mouth parted, whispering things you barely catch, mine mine mine. His rhythm deepens, drawn out, like he wants to memorize the shape of your soul through your skin. He doesn't slow. Doesn't soften.

Tears blur your vision, overwhelmed and stretched so full you think you'll burst. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s pulled you over the edge, making your orgasm, once, thrice, five times? Your mind is syrup, your body is trembling.

His mouth presses to your ear. "Tell me I can come inside" he whimpers, almost crying. "Tell me I can give it to you, p-please. All of it. I need you to let me—” he pleads.

"Hㅡah.. Yes, yes, yes please, Tengen." Your answer is barely coherent, but it breaks him. He sinks deeper, grounding you in place with the weight of his chest.

He holds you folded beneath him, your knees nearly to your chest, your hips locked between his broad hands.

"Y-Yoou feel that?" he rasps, watching the way your belly bulges each time he thrusts deeper. "Made for me. Soㅡah, perfect." You try to answer, but all you can do is sob, your fingers scratching at his shoulders, your lips mouthing his name like a prayer.

He slows, barely, "Want to fill you up and keep you like this. Want you round a-and glowing. Full of m-me. Mine."

You gasp. Your eyes flutter open, glassy and wide like a doe, and he smiles like you’ve just gifted him heaven.

"Yes?" he smiles, dipping lower, kissing the tear streaked corner of your mouth. "You’d let me? Let me b-breed you, keep you soft and heavy with my baby?"

Heavens help you.

"T-Tengen.."

He shudders, his pace faltering a bit. "You’d look so fucking b-beautiful." he moans, hips grinding into you now, deeper, deeper. "Swollen with my child. Dripping with me every night. I’d worship you, little flower. Kiss your belly. Talk to them inside you."

More, more, more. A breathless cry escapes your lips, your nails digging into his back, leaving red marks he's not sure how he's gonna hide. "Say yes." he moans, nearly undone. "Say it again. Say I can give you all of me."

"Yㅡes!" you sob, the word catching in your throat. "Please, please, Tengen— give me, ooh!" That’s all it takes.

He lets out the most broken and guttural sound you’ve ever heard from him, like he’s unraveling at the seams, like your words just carved him open from the inside out. His hips snap into you brutal and deep, until your breath stops and you cry out again.

"Thank you, thank you..." his forehead was pressing against your chest, his whole body trembling as he spills inside of your velvety walls. "Thank you, ahh— fuck, you don’t know what you’re giving me. Letting me have you like this, own you like this…"

You can feel it that moment he starts to lose control, the rhythm falling apart, the heat coiling tighter and tighter inside him. He adjusts his grip, arms locking around the backs of your thighs, folding you deeper into the mattress, and Gods.

He watches your belly again, mesmerized. Watches it swell even more from his seed with every desperate thrust.

"Look at you." he pants. "Already so f-dull. Gonna make it stick, hahㅡ Gonna fill you up so deep they won’t even have a chance to slip out. You’ll feel me for days."

His voice breaks. You’re crying again, shaking under him, and still you beg for more, your body clinging to him, greedy for everything he’s offering. It’s too much. It’s perfect. It’s him.

It hits him like a wave again, violent, fullbody. He cries out your name as he spills into you once more, hips twitching, the air between you two sticky and hot. You feel it flood you, thick and endless, and he doesn’t seem to stop. Not even as you cry. Not even as you plead. He ruts into you, needing to mark you. You feel all warm inside.

"Take it, take it, take it— Gods, you’re perfect. Mine, you’re mine, only mine!"

Finally, finally, he slows. Yet, he doesn’t pull out. He stays buried deep, keeping it inside you, his big body draped over yours protectively. You’re both shaking. You feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. His lips graze your temple.

"I’ll take care of you now." he whispers. "You’ll never have to lift a finger. I’ll cook, I’ll bathe you, I’ll kiss every inch of you when you’re sore. I’ll be so good to you, little flower. Just stay with me, yes? Just let meㅡ let me keep you."

Your tear heavy lashes flutter, vision hazy. You're all sticky and wet. All you can do is nod. He kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then your lips.

The consequences are the last thing on your mind right this moment.

` 𓎢𝄄ׅ𓎟ׄ⠀. ⠀𝖙hank you for reading ! ⠀♬⠀⠀ノ ⬞ ׄ ⠀ ⠀

[fireladylisa]

ა ˙˖ in which → fratjo gets jealous seeing you talk to another guy and decides to teach you a lesson ა ˙˖ content: 1.7k wc, semi public sex, car sex, breeding, spanking, gojo is a possessive freak, fingering, quickie, very little plot

Gojo had never felt jealously or insecurity until this very moment, his jaw clenched tightly as he watched you laugh at something some guy said.

He had been waiting for you outside of the STEM building, window down, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel while he played some ad infested game when he heard your laugh.

His head snapped up so fast that his brain spun.

It was the sweetest thing he ever heard until his tongue went sour when he saw you pushing your glasses up and batting your eyes at some scrawny kid in a physics club t-shirt.

The guys hands were flailing and you were nodding, eyes bright with genuine interest. A hot, tight knot of jealousy twisted in Gojo’s gut.

What the fuck? That laugh was reserved for him specifically, so why were you sharing it with someone else?

His hand tightened around the steering wheel. Was this your true type? A guy who could talk string theory and some other shit he couldn't understand instead of shotgunning beers?

Fuck that.

He was out the car and walking up to you in less than a minute, envy seeping with every step. He didn't say a word as he got closer. He just slid a possessive arm around your waist, his large hand splaying flat on your stomach, pulling you back against his chest.

He felt you jump, then relax as you recognized his scent.

"Gojo." You breathed, sinking into his grip.

He ignored you, his gaze fixed on the other guy. “Party’s over, buddy. She’s got a study session with me.”

Gojo's tone was pure ice and without even saying goodbye, your friend scurried away with wide eyes and sweaty palms.

You turn in his arms, a small frown on your face. "That was rude. We were only talking about-"

His blood pumps hotter at the sight of you. You were dressed in your usual black Mary Jane shoes, knee high socks, a skirt and a brown cardigan that kept slipping off your shoulders and revealing that thin top underneath. The 𝓖 necklace he got you sitting pretty against your skin.

Gojo doesn't respond. It was meant to be rude and he wouldn't be apologizing for it. Instead he leans down and presses his lips hungrily against yours, moving to grab a handful of your ass and pulling you against his hardening cock.

You pull away first in an attempt to catch your breath, looking up at him with those puppy eyes that always made his knees pathetically weak.

"You okay?" You blink shyly, titling your head to this side and it sends his heart racing.

"Get in the car."

"What? Are you mad at-"

"Get in the fucking car (name)."

Gojo pulled into the empty lot behind the old gymnasium, a spot nobody used anymore. He killed the engine and turned to you, his cheeks a little red.

“You think I didn’t see you? Laughing at his jokes. Looking at him like he’s your fucking soulmate.” His voice was low, rough.

You scrunch your eyebrows, looking at him like he was an idiot and it only made him madder and his dick harder. Even when he was upset with you he still found you insanely attractive.

Your entire relationship was an anomaly. No one expected the infamous frat boy Satoru Gojo to end up completely whipped over a nerd with glasses almost too big to fit and her face always buried in a book.

But it happened and he would be damned if he let someone else steal you from him.

"It wasn't like that! He just-"

“I’m going to teach you a lesson so you remember exactly who you belong to.” He interrupts, unbuckling his seatbelt and yours then pressing the side button until his seat was pushed all the way back, his long legs stretching.

Your breath hitched, thighs pressing together and the sight only served to make Gojo spiral even more.

"Come sit on my lap, sweet girl."

You don't hesitate, tossing your bag to your feet and climbing over the console until both of your thighs are on either side of him and your pussy is pressing against the print of his hard cock.

The windows were tinted dark. Nobody could see. Nobody would know.

"You talk to him about chemistry?"

He twists your necklace before he starts to unbutton your cardigan, fingers brushing against your skin. You're too stupefied to talk as he pushes the fabric off your shoulders, his hand sneaking under your t-shirt to unsnap your bra and pull it off.

"Let's talk about biology instead."

He pushes your shirt up and lowers his mouth to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You toss your head back and let out a loud moan, fingers finding his hair to hold onto and gripping tight.

"You're s-so needy when you get j-jealous." You whimper, grinding against his jeans, skirt rising up your hips, body shivering when he bit down gently.

"Hmm, you like that?" He pulls back, his lips wet as he smirks at you.

You nod shyly, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling deeper onto his lap.

He slid his hand up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher until he found the damp heat between your legs. Your panties were soaked and he grins, an annoyingly cocky grin that made you want to slap him and ride him at the same time.

“This f'me? Or were you thinking about his big brain?” He pressed two fingers against your clit through the thin fabric, rubbing slow circles.

“You!” You gasp, chest heaving. “Always you. He’s nothing—ah!”

He shoved your panties aside and pushed two fingers inside your dripping cunt, curling them just right. Your hips bucked as you cried out, and he used his other hand to pin you down.

“Say it again.”

“You, Gojo. Only you.”

“That’s my good girl.” He finger fucks you hard, the wet sound obscene in the quiet car, your juices dripping down his fingers while kisses you to shut you up.

The way your pussy was clenching around Gojo's fingers had him leaking pre and staining his boxers. He felt like he was going to burst if he didn't fuck you soon.

He can feel you shaking, getting closer but before you can cum, he's pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, ignoring the shocked look on your face. His tongue swirls around his fingers, licking them clean and pulling off with a pop.

"Lift your hips."

When he smacks the side of your ass, you yelp but do as he says, lifting high enough for him to unzip his jeans and pull them down with his boxers.

He strokes his hard cock once, twice, watching you watch him and it has his own cheeks heating. Your glasses were crooked, lips swollen and red from his kisses and his self control snapped.

He didn’t tease, growing annoyed again when an image pops up of you smiling at that fucking loser. He grips your hip with one hand and uses the other to line himself up with your entrance. He uses his cock to push your panties aside and with one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt.

"Satoru! Oh fuuck."

Gojo gives you a minute to adjust to his size, hand rubbing up and down your spine in a soothing manner while you whine against his neck. Slowly, he lifts your hips, teeth grinding from the grip your pussy has on his cock, and slams you back down.

He loves the way you're crying out and it only motivates him to go faster, his own hips rising to meet yours. Fuck, you were so wet and warm and he had to actively fight back his moans.

He knows you love when he's vocal but right now he was punishing you, so he bit his lip and fucked you harder.

"Who do you belong to?” he asked again, his voice cracking when you clench around him.

"Y-you. I'm sorry Toru, I'll n-never talk to him again."

He chuckles, pulling your mouth down to his and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your lipgloss tastes like strawberries, so sweet he can't help but nibble on it a little.

"Such an obedient girl." He fucks you faster, his abdomen wet and sticky with your arousal, your ass smacking against his thighs whenever your bodies meet.

When Gojo presses his thumb against your clit and flicks it, the knot in your stomach tightens harder, twisting as you get closer to your high.

"Haaah, m'gonna cum Toru!"

He doesn't stop, just grunts and rubs you faster until you're spilling over the edge, body glitching as you buck wildy against him, head dropping to his neck as your orgasm rocks your world.

Your breath is hot against Gojo's neck and his balls swell before he's busting a fat nut inside of you, hot ropes of gooey cum painting your walls in his DNA.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Despite his best efforts he can't stop the groans that escape his lips, deep and long, his hands squeezing your thighs as he twitches and empties himself inside of you.

Gojo's hips stutter as he pushes the last of his orgasm out, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you tight. Maybe you should keep talking to other guys so he can relive this moment over and over.

You grunt when his cock slips out, his cum instantly oozing out but he uses two fingers to rub at your clit, moving to your hole and pushing it back inside. He keeps them snug in your cunt, cocking jumping back to life as he uses his other hand to pull your lips to his.

The kiss is filthy, his tongue swirling against yours as you swap spit. His stomach flutters when you grind against his hand, his nerdy little slut.

When Gojo pulls back, he fixes your glasses and lifts your hips again, lining his once again, hard cock back up with your entrance and slowly pulling you down.

"Now what did we learn?" He asks once he's buried deep, his balls pushing against your ass.

"T-that, huuhh, that I shouldn't laugh at other g-guys jokes."

He kisses you again before pushing his seat back until he was almost laying down, his hands holding onto your waist.

"Atta girl. Now ride me until I tell you to stop."

❦ lisa's note: thanks for this request, it was fun to write! can you tell I love car sex? anyways something quick while I work on the arrangement ♡

gojo sluts: @rhaewinsdaughter @timgiohlover1767 @kissprl @lunevarin @keiito066 @pinkpantherrrrss @lounastar @luvs-angel @luvbambiboo @scramblenigojo @nationalmegumidihhopper @jisojoriver @lilactaro @mimicosmos8 @billiondollarworth @ayla111 @lesyeuxdeginana @miizuzu @vivillow @biggkayyss @darkcatsxs @suguru4life @majemki @amayaaaxx @rachelily @rae06-12

perm tags: @icebearcucumber @tojisfavoritegun @writingintheskin @saturneni @sakurasweetiesworld-blog @sleeeepybee @locallyclementine @butterbeanandsparkleface @butterbeanandsparkleface @writtenbyjil @sukunas-one-n-only-peach @alliesheartsss @kookiieeswirl @mrskamikazekaito @blogster-b33 @stvsgsb @meowguumi @a-court-of-smut-and-sluts @mutsu422 @love-d-luxe @xojoln @stillhollow-kindofthere @srslyoceans

© art by atsuriel

[syllysmot]

NEED NERDJI FICSSS

[yenayaps]

controller | sukuna x f!reader

twenty: passing the torch

Summary: Working as Wasuke Itadori's personal assistant wasn't all that bad. You got paid well, the hours were reasonable, he wasn't a complete asshole like most CEO's were. But there was a catch, and it came in the form of his charismatic son that trouble always seemed to follow. Or maybe he was the problem? Just don’t say you weren’t warned about him.

genre: modern au, 18+, forbidden romance (?), jin and sukuna are twins, smut, angst, fluff & all that good stuff. pls visit master list to view the rest of the tags

a/n: HI THE DRAMA'S BACK!! 6.6k w/c for this chapter, please excuse any typos, I barely proofread it and will prob get to it tomorrow <33 also, if you haven't been tagged, it's bc i'm working on it rn

masterlist

It’s been a bit of a transition period for you and Sukuna. Well— mainly Sukuna, but he’s your husband, so whatever goes on in his life inevitably trickles down to yours. 

So when he decides to start taking on his own clients, before resigning from the position he has in his fathers company, it affects you. More than you’d like to admit, honestly. 

He’s always busy.

When he’s not working, you two are out partying somewhere with his friends. You haven’t had one on one time with him in weeks. You tried to brush off how you felt about it at first, gaslighting yourself into thinking you were just being too clingy and that you needed to relax. You two were married, he wasn’t going anywhere. 

But it eventually comes out, making you and Sukuna have your first actual fight together. It’ll probably be the dumbest one too. 

He thought you were joking at first, but quickly found out you weren’t when he realized he was the only one that was laughing after you asked, “why does everything have to be about you?!”

He just stares at you for a moment, with a concerned look on his face, and all of the different paint samples in hand. He really doesn't know how to even respond to that, and instead repeats your question. 

“…Me?” he asks, struggling to figure out what in the actual fuck is happening right now.

“Yes, you,” you begin to glare at him, growing more annoyed at how dumbfounded he looks right now. “Who else would I be talking to, the wall?”

Maybe. You two were getting it repainted after all, but he holds his tongue. 

Your eyes begin to well up with tears the longer you two stand there and look at each other. 

“I wanted something similar to forest wood and you just keep choosing different shades of grey,” your bottom lip begins to quiver as you start to list all the things he’s been doing wrong, “you get to choose everything— from where we go out, who we hang out with, how much time you spend with me. Why can’t you just let me have a kitchen with a little bit of color?!”

“Baby… it doesn’t have to be gray,” he responds to you in a hushed tone, out of pure, unadulterated fear, “you just asked which colors I liked.” 

“Well, I fucking hate them,” you sniffle, wiping away some of your tears. “Every color you’ve chosen is depressing.” 

It wasn’t about the paint, he pretty much got that by now. He leans against the wall and sighs.

“What’s got you so mad at me for?” He continues to use that hushed tone, in hopes that it’ll keep your mood at bay. 

“I’m not mad.” He’d beg to differ, but you're pouting, so he keeps his mouth shut. “I just miss you.” 

His lips twitch a little, and he’s violently fighting off a smile, along with the urge to tease you for getting mad that you haven’t been getting much attention lately. He knows he’s been busier these last few weeks, he’s exhausted most of the time because of it. 

He also thought you didn’t mind it too much, but here you are, shitting on his choice of colors because of it. 

“You’re not even taking me seriously,” you say, taking in a sharp breath

“No, I am. Come here,” he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest. “I didn’t think it’d bug you that much.”

“I didn’t think so either,” you admit, now here you are, missing the person you already share a bed with. It almost made you feel pathetic. 

“M’sorry,” he stifles a laugh, “I’m planning on telling my dad that I’m leaving when we see him on Sunday.” 

You suddenly stop sniffling, and look up at him, unsure if you’re still irritated or just baffled at this point. “Why do you have to pick the first time I see him, after months, to do that?” you begin to complain. 

“Because it’ll be the next time I see him,” he says it like it’s a no brainer— he has been working from home for a while, after all. It’s not like he can step out of his office and walk down to his fathers. “He’ll probably go a little easier on me too if you’re there.” 

Just because they made up doesn’t mean they’re as close as they used to be. They’ll text every now and then– Wasuke will send him some article, or Sukuna will send him some random meme that his father will never understand. But aside from that, it’s been weeks since they’ve been face to face, so naturally, you really don’t believe Wasuke will go easier on him just because you’re there. 

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if it were the complete opposite. Sukuna keeps saying you’re fine, and that his fathers not mad at you, but there’s a part of you that’s still wary. 

“Let’s hope,” you murmur against his chest, messing with the deck of color swatches in his hand, “...so yes to forest green?” 

He presses a kiss on top of your head, suppressing a laugh. “Whatever you want.” 

—

It’s not your first time visiting Wasuke’s house, if you’d even call it that. But, with the way your heart started racing in your chest the moment the gates to his estate started to open, it might as well be your first time. You were calm all morning, and even found yourself looking forward to seeing him during the car ride. And now? It felt you were going to crawl out of your skin. 

You’re too busy panicking to even notice that he had a little bit of landscaping done since your last visit. Everything Sukuna says to you as his car inched closer to the house goes in one ear and out the other.

“Are you listening?”

“Hm? Yeah.” It’s obvious you’re not, making the man click his tongue as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Fine, I wasn’t. What did you say?” 

He leans over the center console, only to say, “this is why you should listen, now you’ll never know what the fuck I just said.”

“Can you just tell me?” you roll your eyes at the sudden theatrics. 

“Nope,” he stubbornly responds, unbuckling your seatbelt for you. “Let’s go.” 

True to his word, he never told you what he said in the car. Not that he was mad. He actually enjoys the fact that you’ll forever live with the suspense, throwing his arm over your shoulders as you two walk up to the doors, making fun of you the entire time. 

Wasuke’s already waiting in the foyer, instantly annoyed from the way Sukuna chose to make his presence known by yelling, rather than using the intercom. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wasuke says in place of a normal greeting, twisting the finger that's in his ear. 

Sukuna grimaces at the old man. “How the fuck was I supposed to know you’d be waiting here?” 

“Just– forget it,” his father sighs, not wanting to get into an argument on such a fine day. 

Even if it was just harmless banter, he already knows it’ll end with him needing to take something extra strong for a migraine, given his son’s natural talent when it came to arguing. 

There’s a small pause after, and Wasuke ends up staring at you for a bit. It’s been months since he’s seen you, under the impression that you’d found your dream job, not to run off and marry his son. With the look he has on his face right now, you really can’t tell what he’s thinking, which is terrifying.

“Tch. What the hell are you cowering behind him like that for?” he grumbles, holding his arms out. “Get over here.” 

You really were cowering behind Sukuna. But, despite Wasuke being his usual grouchy self, there was still some warmth in his tone, making you feel comfortable enough to step forward and accept his hug. The old man still smells the same, like expensive cigars and bourbon. No longer in a suit and tie, he’s in a track suit. From Prada, might you add. 

He looks more like the head of the fucking mafia right now. 

He gives a couple pats on the back before slightly pulling away, hands still placed on your arms. “I told you to call security on him if he bothered you too much,” he scolds you the same way he does with his two sons. “Not to go off and get hitched at the fucking courthouse.” 

“I’m sorry,” you respond with a guilty tone. 

“Me too. Now you’re legally glued to this asshole.” 

“I know,” you say defeatedly. Sukuna scoffs somewhere in the background, annoyed that you two are already talking shit about him. “He’s nice to me though.” 

“Yeah, he better be. I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t.” 

Sukuna cuts in, still offended. “What do I look like to you?” There’s a pause from you and Wasuke as you both just look at the brute while he stands there with a subtle pout on his face. “Actually, don’t answer that.” 

“Are Jin and Yuji here already?” you ask, looking over Wasuke's shoulder.

“Not yet. The little brat apparently didn’t want to put pants on, so they’ll be a little late.” Wasuke laughs, and starts to lead you to the backyard, leaving a still offended Sukuna behind. 

Your father in law was clearly excited to have you over with the layout of different foods he had set up on the patio. From different omelettes to sweet options, such as french toast, to different mimosas. He went all out for today's brunch.

Definitely too much for just the five of you, but knowing he shares with his staff made you feel better about it. 

Jin and Yuji arrived shortly, with the little boy still in a bad mood when they walked in. To say he was in a bad mood is probably understatement, he was bawling— snot running down his nose and all as he snitched on his father to all of you for making him wear pants that day. 

And poor Sukuna, bless his heart, could not catch a break today. Instead of Yuji going straight to him this time, he went to you. He cried for another 10 minutes, hysterical in your arms as he continued to point at his father, wishing you’d yell at him or something. 

As much as you support the kid in pantless endeavours, being someone that hardly wears clothes at home yourself, that didn’t happen. Jin was already stressed enough as is and went straight to the mimosa table, skipping out on the juice and adding a shot of vodka to his champagne flute.

Sukuna, being the enabler he is, followed suit. He needed it, anyway, having to break the news to father and all. 

“Well, that’s just great,” Wasuke bitterly says, throwing a napkin on to his plate. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”

“I don’t know.” Sukuna’s already tipsy and begins to bicker with the old man. “Hire me for contract work if you want my services that bad.”

“You’re going to quit, just so I could hire you, again?” his father asks him as if he were stupid. “You’re just gonna make me pay you double the rate I pay you now!”

“Like you can't afford it,” Sukuna says sarcastically. “What? You want a family discount or something?”

“No,” he practically barks at his son, who clearly struck his ego with that comment. “Is this why you’ve been taking more sick days?!”

Sukuna gives you the side eye before answering that. “It’s her fault,” he points at you, hoping that’s where his father would redirect some of his anger. “You wouldn’t believe the tantrum she threw just because I wasn’t giving her enough attention.”

“Because you fucking weren’t!” you immediately yell back at him, making your poor father-in-law flinch. He really wasn’t expecting you to start yelling at Sukuna like that. Thank god Yuji was off blowing bubbles with one of the maids on the other side of the yard, arguments never really phased him, but everyone still preferred he didn’t hear them.

“I fixed it, didn’t I?!” he argues back. 

“Barely.” His brows pinch together in irritation, but you ignore him and keep going, all while his father’s eyes warily bounce back and forth between you two. “And now you’re trying to blame your sick days on me, when it was you who should’ve waited to start taking on your own clients after quitting. You’re literally just now telling him!”

“Can you blame me? Look at him,” he gestures at Wasuke, who’s just awkwardly sitting there, “he looks like he’s about to have a fuckin’ stroke!”

Wasuke hears his other son chortle and nearly snaps his neck when he turns to shoot him a glare. The fucker’s already drunk and tends to take his brothers side more when he’s like this. 

It takes Jin a moment to get himself together, before asking, “how are the new meds, by the way? They prescribed you propofol, right?”

“Propanolol,” Wasuke says through gritted teeth, and for the second time that day, finds himself telling Sukuna and Jin to forget it. “And don’t think this conversation is over,” he points at him, “come to my office tomorrow so we can get everything sorted out.” 

There’s no complaints on Sukuna’s end. He honestly starts to wonder if he should just start an argument with you whenever his dad’s around, your temper seems to scare him enough to think before he speaks.

Jin notices too, but isn’t very surprised by it. He’s watched your interactions with Wasuke more than Sukuna has. He wouldn’t say you’ve snapped at his father before, but you’ve definitely shot him a look a couple times during your time as his assistant, signaling he was starting to add too much to your plate. Those were the very few times he’s seen his father backtrack with an employee. Not directly, of course. He had too much pride for that, but he’d make sure to add a little “when you get the chance” in the end or just flat saying you could take a day off that following monday. 

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jin says, more so curious than trying to change the subject, “did you guys ever decide on what you wanted to do about the whole Yorozu thing? She’s been really quiet lately.”

Actually, no, just nosey. He’s had more than enough to drink and has no shame in admitting that he’s been checking her socials.

Sukuna immediately groans at that, but you end up answering the question. “We sent her a cease and desist.” 

“We could’ve had that fuckin’ family by the balls,” Sukuna mutters, obviously unhappy with your decision to be the bigger person and not sue them. 

“We could’ve, but that would’ve just been another article,” you remind him. 

It’d probably be a different story if you weren’t so bothered by all the different gossip sites talking about you, but it doesn’t look like it’ll be settling down any time soon, so you’d rather not give bloggers extra fuel. Hell, they even found your family, who you have not spoken to since your big fight over the holidays. 

You haven’t even unblocked their numbers. 

Even if you had made up with them, you doubt it wouldn’t have kept them from doing an interview with some random youtuber. Yorozu wasn’t the only one Sukuna wanted to sue, but you ultimately decided to just ignore the interview they did, no matter how much they painted themselves as the victims. 

“I wouldn’t mind releasing a statement, you know,” Wasuke turns to you with a guilt ridden face, “it was my fault, after all.” 

Nice to see he wasn’t so prideful after all. Though, aside from him punching Sukuna in the face, you did feel bad for him at the end of the day. He had to live with enough guilt from the childhood both of his sons endured. 

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like you meant for any of this to happen. We had our faults in it too,” you reassured him. There are even times where you felt like it all happened for the best. Seeing how Sukuna did everything he could to shield you from all the family drama and exhausted all other options before marrying you made you love him more in the end. 

“What about your parents?” Jin cuts in, again. 

The question pulls a laugh out of you. You thought Sukuna was just over-exaggerating, but no, he really is no better than his brother and Wasuke when it comes to gossip.

“I have no idea,” you say in all honesty, then gestured towards Sukuna, “this one wants me to meet up with them, even though he originally wanted to try to sue them.”

Wasuke scoffs at his son, “you can’t just sue your in-laws.”

“They said I was isolating her from everyone,” he throws his arms out in defense. Given his reputation, half the viewers probably believed them too.

“And when that happens, you pick up the phone and fucking call them!”

“Yeah? Well she has them blocked, so what now?” Not that it stopped them, they’ve been having extended family reach out to you, begging to talk to them. He clicks his tongue and takes a sip of his drink that’s more vodka than it is champagne. “Besides, I changed my mind, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you say, pretending to be proud of him, even though you honestly think he just wants to meet them so he can tell them off in person. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m honestly just scared that they’ll start begging for money or something.”

Wasuke, being the traditional man he is at the end of the day, looks a little disappointed from your reasoning. “What’s the problem with that?” There’s a hint of sadness in his tone, thinking of his own parents that he financially supported until they passed away. 

“Well, for one, I wasn’t allowed to come back home during summers after moving out for college.” His eyes widened in shock. Yeah, he’s gotten mad at Sukuna from randomly breaking in to raid his liquor cabinet and use his pool, but he’d never turn him away if he ever wanted to move back in. Same for Jin. “I wasn’t allowed to move back in after I graduated either, so I guess I’m a little bitter about this since they never pushed my brother to leave.”

“I– what?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, “then last Christmas, they saw what kind of purse I had and asked how much money I was making. I thought it was because they were proud of me or something, but instead they decided it’d be me who would be taking care of them. And yeah, it turned into this whole fight.” 

Sukuna’s surprisingly calm while he hears the Christmas story for a second time. The first time was right before you two got married, and he was livid– talking about how they’d never get the chance to talk to you the way they did if he were around, and how you better not let them guilt you into giving them money. 

His father sighs, thinking about all the sacrifices his own parents made so he could be where he’s at in his life right now. Even if he had done it all on his own, his parents were honest people and would’ve never demanded he take care of them. “I’m sorry, honey.” 

“It’s fine. It is what it is.” It wasn’t, you fucking hated it, but getting angry about it right now wasn’t going to do anything. “I’m considering it, but I definitely won’t be seeing them during the holidays. I actually want to enjoy Christmas this year.” 

“Oh, you will,” Sukuna says more darkly than intended, making the promise sound more like a threat, but you ignore it knowing he was just mad about last year. 

“Wait, you two are spending Christmas here… right?” Wasuke asks, slightly worried. He almost wasn’t going to get Yuji this year, until he paid his mother himself. Greedy bitch. He’s considering getting Jin a new lawyer so he can just get full custody already. 

Sukuna scratches the back of his head, knowing his father probably wasn’t going to like his answer. “We’re not sure yet.” He says, huge emphasis on we’re to keep his father from going into a full blown crisis. In his defense, you two came up with the idea when they were still fighting. “We might be in Switzerland.”

The plane tickets have already been bought. 

“How much do I have to pay you to not do that?” his father says in all seriousness, pulling out his phone, ready to transfer you two money. 

“Oh, you don’t–” you’re momentarily cut off from the glare Sukuna gives you, clearly looking to get paid. He probably already had a number in his head, but you still end up finishing your sentence. “You really don’t have to.” 

His father looks at you and holds his breath, “...Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assure him, ignoring the way Sukuna's staring a hole into the side of your head, as morally corrupt as ever. “We can just change the dates, right?” you ask Sukuna. 

He takes too long to answer, so you kick his shin under the table. 

“Yeah,” he’s forced to say. 

“Oh, good.” Wasuke holds his chest and smiles in relief. 

The two of you stay for another hour or so, listening to Jin drunkenly ramble on about his on-going divorce and how much of a shitty mother his estranged wife was. It wasn’t anything new, but you could tell he needed to get it out, so you all let him have the room. Sukuna didn’t even make fun of him for the tears he started to shed at one point. It was expected, he was emotional enough when he was sober. 

He even offered to take Yuji for the weekend a couple weeks from now. He would’ve offered next weekend, but it was Satoru’s birthday and there was no way in hell he was missing that party. 

“Really?” 

“Really. You need to go out on a date or something while you’re at it,” Sukuna says rather judgementally, getting up from his seat. His brother doesn’t catch it, he’s too stuck on the ‘date’ portion of it. 

“But I– I don’t know anyone.”

“Yeah, I know,” he snorts as he offers you his hand, helping you get up from your seat. “I’ll find someone.” 

“What if I don’t like them?” Jin asks another question, but it doesn’t stop his brother from actively getting ready to leave. 

“Then you fuck them and move on,” Sukuna responds as if it were obvious. 

Wasukes pinching his nose bridge from how crude he is, not getting a chance to say anything because you’re already giving him a hug. 

“Thanks for having us over, Mr. Itadori,” you warmly say. 

“Anytime, honey. You’re always welcome here,” he then clicks his tongue, “and don’t call me that anymore, just call me dad.” 

“Sounds good, dad.” You can hear Sukuna chuckling fondly in the background. “I’ll see you next time.”

“See you,” he hums as you let go and move on to Jin, who looks like he’s in need of a nap at this point. It was early enough for him to sober up and not be hungover in the morning tomorrow, so you suggested it. He had Wasuke and the rest of the staff to watch Yuji anyways. 

He was a lightweight compared to his brother, but the vodka-champagne concoction clearly got to Sukuna too, who was struggling to act like it didn’t hit him as hard as it did. But, his eyes never lied, and his were half-lidded and glazed over enough for you to stick your hand out. 

Being the smart boy he is, he handed you his keys without protest and sat in the passenger seat, while you drove home. 

Unlike Jin, he was more of an aggressive drunk. Sometimes angry. Usually. With you, he took more after his brother. It’s funny how he guarded himself while in the presence of others, but then completely melted the moment you two were all alone. 

And you wouldn’t say he was emotional during the car ride home, just more vulnerable. And sweet... for the most part.

Reaching out to brush your cheek with the backs of his fingers as you focused on the road. Lightly massaging your shoulder, while saying the dumbest things. 

“So fuckin’ hot when you drive my cars.” 

“They love you so much– heh, told you they would.” 

“I can’t even lie, I love how everyone thinks you’re some an angel, only for you to start drooling over my dick like some depraved slut when we get home.” He started backtracking when he heard you scoff. “That's my favorite thing about you.” You don’t respond to that, only because you wanted him to keep going. “I swear to god that’s not an insult. I’d rather die than be with anybody else.”

You don't get a chance to respond to that.

“You really should’ve said yes when he offered money, though,” he ended up softly scolded you, “I was gonna use that money for that fuckin’ dowry he’s making me pay him back for.” 

It doesn't end there.

“That old man’s never gonna get the chance to kick my ass over you, how could I be mean to this sweet little face? God, I fuckin’ love you,” but then he laughed, “besides, you’d probably beat my ass with a frying pan if I started talkin’ crazy to you.” You ended up laughing too, and he continued to tease you. “Oh you’d like that, huh?”

“No,” you’re still smiling, pulling into the parking garage. “I’m laughing ‘cause it’s you who’d probably like that.”

“You know I love me some foreplay,” he murmurs with a dopey grin. 

“That’s abuse, not foreplay,” you giggle, putting the car in park. 

“You call it abuse, I call it discipline,” he unbuckles his seat belt, stumbling out of the BMW, “that’s what the D in BDSM stand for, y’know.” 

You didn’t know that, but of course he did. 

And of course he spent the rest of the walk back to the penthouse with his arm around you, trying to convince you to be on the receiving end of it. Sprinkling in a couple kisses and compliments as well, because he’s quite the lover boy when he's drunk.

—

One of your biggest complaints in your marriage was that you and Sukuna simply went out too much. Spending quality time with each other has been rare, and only changed when you ended up breaking down in tears. 

Now, would you have felt that way tonight if it wasn’t Satoru’s birthday? Honestly, yes. But, today was a special day for your friend, and he was throwing probably the biggest party of the year because of it. Neither you or Sukuna weren’t going to miss it, even though you didn’t like the idea of paparazzi being there, since it was being held at one of Suguru’s clubs. 

But security was tight tonight, no one was getting past them without an invite. That’s if anyone even tried, Satoru was known to hire security based on how violent they were. 

It was hardly a party at this point, it was a playboy-themed rager, filled with all the alcohol and all the legal and illegal substances anyone’s heart could desire. Except the only thing that screamed ‘playboy’ were the servers and dancers on stage dressed as playboy bunnies. 

He didn’t really give a shit about Hugh Hefner, so he skipped the pervy red robe and showed up in a black, pinstriped, freshly pressed and tailored Tom Ford suit. Hair slicked back, covered in gold chains, gold rings, gold cuff links, and a brand new gold rolex— he looked more like his grandfather, who’s actually a mafia head. 

It was something you had just recently learned about, but it made a lot of things make sense, like the violent “security”. You weren’t even phased by it at that point, having gone through enough with just Sukuna alone. 

Gold’s usually his thing, but he skipped it tonight after Satoru sent him a rather aggressive, yet also desperate text a couple days ago. You were wondering why he was staring at his phone with such a dumbfounded look on his face, but then you had a look for yourself.

| (Satoru G): im gonna be dripped out in gold on friday and I better not see you wearing gold too. im serious. if I see you wearing even a SPECK of it, im taking that shit off of you myself. and don’t even try to fight me about it either, i will fucking kill myself just so you feel bad. you’re married for fucks sake, leave some of the women for me.

Not a lot of things leave him speechless, but he respected it. So did Suguru and Choso, who also received similar texts. He wasn’t even planning on getting that dressed up tonight. It’s not like it was some uppity black-tie event. He wasn’t going there to network, he was going there to get plastered out of his mind. 

He stepped out of the house in a pair of black slacks and white button-up that was rolled up to his elbows. He wore jewelry, of course, just not gold, because Satoru will apparently kill himself if he does. 

You two actually ended up matching a little bit. You both wore diamond studs, along with the matching set of steel and diamond rolex’s he got shortly after you two tied the knot. You had your wedding rings of course, but those were different. Then there was his nose ring, which was also a diamond stud tonight. 

Your outfit was slightly more risqué than usual, but not resembling a playboy bunny at all. 

Satoru texted all of the women he considered his friends to “don’t even,” because he’d lose his shit if any of you were mistaken for help or entertainment. You appreciated it, even though you really weren’t planning on throwing on a one piece and bunny ears, knowing Sukuna would lose his shit even more if someone ended up mistaking you for one of the workers tonight. 

So, here you are in a black mini-dress, that laced up in the back like a corset, and a pair of kitten heels because you'd take any comfort you could on a night out. 

Tonight’s just like any other night you two go out with your friends. 

It starts with Sukuna being glued to your hip for a little, making it known you were his, even though the ring on your left hand should’ve said enough. Then after a while of keeping his hand on the small of your back, while glaring daggers at all the men and women he didn’t know, he lets up. Just a little. He hangs out with his friends, while you hang out with yours, but the VIP section’s bigger than you think, so he lingers. Coming up to you often to check up on you, see if you need a refill on your drink or something. 

You don’t run off and make drinks on your own anymore— something you both agreed too after that one night. 

You remember once when this girl, who you had just met, asked if it bothered you how much he bugged you throughout the night. Which was funny, because she didn’t ask Yuki that, even though Choso checked up on her just as much. But instead of bringing that up, you just said no, because it genuinely doesn’t. He also had a temper, so you keep an eye on him just as much, whether anyone realized it or not. 

Maybe that’s why you let your guard down a little bit tonight. 

It was your friend's birthday after all, held at another friend’s club. Not to mention you were hanging out in VIP, where you always are. The thought of Sukuna leaving isn’t something that ever comes to mind. Neither of you drove here. You're fairly tipsy, to the point where time passes by faster than usual and you don’t wonder why your husband hasn’t checked up on you like he usually did. Still, you feel safe.

You are completely clueless, until the shouting below grows loud enough to where it interrupted the conversation you were having with Yuki. 

You look at each other for a moment, clearly confused, maybe even a little annoyed. But then you both look to find the usual space Sukuna and his friends took up was completely empty, and that’s when both sober up and run to the edge of the area, looking over the balcony to see Choso arguing with some random guy. 

You were too far away to be able to hear what they were arguing about, but you can tell the guy thought he could bully Choso around just because he was more chill and didn’t like fighting. Yuki thinks to go down there, but ultimately stays, knowing this was probably the safest place to be right now. 

For a second, you wonder why security wasn’t doing anything about it, then you spot your man with a fucking grin on his face, pretending to be just another spectator in the crowd. Same for his two other friends. 

Everyone thinks they’re enjoying the argument, but really, they were all figuring out which guys they were going to fight when it finally started. 

Which didn’t take long.

The guy shoves Choso, calling him a bitch. Choso throws the first punch, breaking the guy's nose at the exact same time Sukuna jumps the guys friend. Seconds later, they’re all pummeling each other.

It’s a full blown brawl.

The space around them begins to clear, only because most people didn’t want to get caught in it— with the way they were fighting, it’s almost guaranteed you will. It also grows, thanks to a handful of drunk idiots jumping in, not caring about who was right and wrong. It was purely for fun, wanting to experience the rush and excitement of it all. 

Then there was the crowd, filled with people that were no better— shouting, cheering, recording. Capturing Sukuna, coked out, knocking someone out cold and then spitting blood on their face, then moving on to the next person, in 4k. 

And you’re scared, for multiple reasons. 

He just made up with his dad, and now there will be footage of Sukuna beating the shit out of multiple people all over the internet. It’ll probably be up before the fight ends, too. Not to mention it could be used in court as evidence if anyone decided to press charges. To top it all off, someone called the fucking cops and Sukuna ended up punching one of them square in the face. 

So now you have to watch him get arrested because he’s also an idiot. 

Yuki holds you back from running after him as they walk him out of the club. You only understand why she did it when you start to hear cameras frantically clicking outside, capturing the million dollar smile on Sukuna’s face. The first one, out of several, to walk out bloody and in handcuffs. 

And he didn’t give a fuck, not when he smiled for the cameras, and not when he was getting put in the back of a cop car, all while his new wife was nowhere to be found.

The tabloids are going to have a field day with this one. They were never going to leave you two alone after this. 

You’re scared.

—

A ringing phone rips Wasuke out of his sleep at 12:47 a.m, and he’s too confused to even be angry when he picks up the phone. It happens more often than you think, but the calls are usually work related, not his daughter in law hysterically crying over the phone. 

“I need you to breathe.” He didn’t know what the hell you were saying, and it was going to freak him out. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?!”

“N-no,” you take a deep breath, before blurting out, “Sukuna got in a fight trying to protect Choso and then the cops got called and then he punched a cop in the face thinking it was someone taking a cheap shot at him and now he’s in jail. And– And there’s videos and pictures of everything.” 

Wasuke let out a long, exhausted sigh as you continued to hyperventilate. You didn’t mention him being drunk or being on any substances, but he just knows in his heart that his son most likely snorted a disappointing amount of coke tonight. 

“Ok, ok,” he tries to get you to focus. “Do you have enough money on you right now for bail?”

“N-no, we have cash at home though. But I– what if they don’t let him out on bail?!” 

“Oh, they will. Just slide them a couple grand in cash,” he assures you, coaching you on what to do, since he’s your problem now. 

“God– we didn’t even drive here! It’s gonna take forever to get an Uber,” you begin to whine and complain to yourself.

“Would you like me to send a dri–”

“Wait, what?” you end up cutting him off to answer a question Yuki asked. “Really?! Ugh, please… Dad? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he responds in a defeated tone, silently questioning how drunk you are right now. 

“Sorry– Choso’s girlfriend just offered me a ride home and to the police station. She has to bail him out too.”

He rolls his eyes, not surprised he’s in there with his son too. “I’m glad you were able to solve that problem.”

“Thanks, me too,” you miss the sarcasm in his response. At least you were a lot more calm than when you first called him. “...You’re not going to punish Sukuna, right?”

“No,” he curtly says, he’s made it clear time after time that punishing him doesn’t fucking work, and quite frankly, he doesn’t even care anymore. Again, he is your problem now. “Just… get there as fast as you can… he gets impatient and starts taunting the cops thinking they’ll let him out sooner if he annoys them enough.” 

“Oh,” you breathe out. All he does is hum in response, remembering the times it’s actually worked. “Okay, well, I’ll keep you updated.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says in his kindest voice, tucking himself back into bed. “I will just see you two on Sunday.”

“Okay, see you then. Sorry if I woke you up by the way.”

“It’s okay.” He’s just glad he didn’t have to get out of bed. “Oh, also…” there’s a short pause before you receive a text on your phone, “that’s the family publicist, make sure to give her a call as soon as possible, just to let her know what’s going on, alright?”

“Alright, I’ll call her right now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he hums, ending the phone call in an oddly good mood. Usually he’d be fuming, but instead, he feels at peace. Almost. He’s not exactly sure why. Was this the bliss people spoke of after they “let go and let god”? Or was he just happy that he finally got to pass the torch to someone else?

He’s too tired to know, too tired to care— telling himself that you two are grown, and will figure it out on your own. Yeah, the pictures will probably be in the tabloids for a while, but this wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. 

Besides, he’s a good looking kid, people will probably just end up talking about his looks rather than the crime itself. 

It’ll all be fine. 

All Sukuna has to worry about is convincing you that this is all normal.

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[romiiarts]

lucky!!

[jojorice]

pocky game~ 😳

gojo was planning for that kiss all along but geto beat him to the punch hehe ><

[kiisc0ld]

ryomen sukuna proves he can treat you better than your asshole bf

ryomen sukuna does not concern himself with the miserable dwellings of day to day life of peasants (aka his frat buddies)

he parties,he gyms, he balls. he looks good and smells good and keeps his women limited to strict one night schedules.

he doesn't give two shits about who's fucking whom and whichever latest breakups circulating around campus. and he definitely doesn't keep track of his friends' girlfriends.

except when he spotted you one night , sitting in one corner of the raging neon lit room , fiddling with your fingers as you watched your boyfriend dance with other women .

sukuna told himself he didn't care about how your smile kept faltering or how sad your eyes looked.

yet, he never wanted to punch a man to oblivion so much than at that moment. he reigned himself in that night.

but the next time when he saw your crestfallen expression when your asshole boyfriend dismissed your homecooked lunch before the entire team , sukuna lost it.

so yeah. he did punch his teammate and frat mate to oblivion.

the rest was easy and quick. some bruises here and there. a little blood. but his favourite part was hearing your shy mouth yell "fuck you , you bastard" on your boyfriends bloody and beaten face (courtesy of him)

but sukuna's life somehow became even more convoluted after that.

his eyes track the slight colouring of your cheeks , the way your gaze darts away from his as you mutter a shy "thank you" .

the sweet scent of your shampoo lingers in his nose when you pass by him in the corridors. his mind replays the small smile you gave him when he crossed paths with you, in the dark quiet of his room.

days escalate to weeks and he finds himself sitting on the bleachers after practice, eating from the cute pink bento you prepared for him as he listens to you read out a line from your favourite book.

he surprises himself when he throws away his entire stash of cigarettes after you tell him one afternoon that you dislike the smell of them.

as autumn approaches, sukuna finds himself before you , pink cheeked, handing you the books he picked out in hopes that you would enjoy them.

ryomen sukuna did not care about feelings . he never bothered to question his own lack of them. but then how was he supposed to justify the way his heart beat stuttered when you placed a soft, barely there kiss on his cheek after he walked you to your apartment?

ryomen sukuna did not bother with cheek kisses. he was rough and in the bed,took from the women what he wanted.

and you were the antagonist of everything he was accustomed to. because it wasn't rough and hard and frantic when it came to you. hell, he hadn't even tasted your lips, and somehow sex hadn't even crossed his mind.

he was willing to take even the tiniest bit of affection you showed him. and somehow it was enough for him.

with you it was lingering fingers, and soft glances. easy smiles and reading poetry. eating sundaes at 10pm under the streetlights .

and when he realised that he looked forward to hearing your soft voice as you read to him, and eating your handcooked meals instead of his bland protein shakes and walking you home as the lamposts cast a warm glow on your skin—sukuna realised that he was utterly fucked.

because, as much as he wanted to deny it, he was no fool.

he was in love.

[f-tality0]

Bad posture Yuji

[omiisangel]

jester!gojo x princess

do not repost onto other platforms

[kkunai]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY ˓˓ SATORU G.

[ ᡣ . ٜ̥ .ྀི 𑁩ཾיִ ] :: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x gf!reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ repost !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you, his girlfriend, are standing close to them.

you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway—graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply doesn’t care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall.

the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there is no need for it. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he notices how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin.

he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“pfft, whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward.

you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know he doesn’t give them the attention they so desire, he never will, yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to—no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving.

he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation—he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window.

it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips.

satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to him, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression, plagued with insecurity, tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs again.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah—fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist.

he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

he hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back.

“there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear.

“sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

satoru shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

he pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at—which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”