caovilla (preview)
contains: nawa/shibari, rigger AND sub Gojo
a/n: this has been in my drafts the past two years when I first got into rope; this is about the intimacy of tying someone up
He kneels in front of you, running his hands from your hips to your thighs until he touches along your calves and finds the crystal-embellished straps curled around your ankles. He recognizes them as the little Caovilla heels from a few months ago. He remembers stealing your popsicle in the Milan heat at check out, leisurely swiping his card and pretending to ignore the way you pouted—rogue, swollen lips tasting of oranges. Gojo unfurls one strap, then the other, kissing your skin in the process.
You shouldn’t have been so ambitious, asking to be blindfolded for the first time. You tell yourself to settle whenever his fingers skim over your skin, too sensitized from the loss of one of your senses. Every small movement he makes rings loud in your ear, yet your anticipation grows with the sound of jute gliding through his palms and of the rope’s soft landing on the floor. You focus on his even breaths, your staccato heart.
“Hands behind your back okay?” You nod. Still sitting on your heels, you bring your arms back and feel the warmth of Satoru behind you. You want him closer, flushed against your skin all of the sudden. Instead he hovers over you as he wraps it over and under your breasts, then encasing your shoulders, before knotting thickly in the back. You shiver as his thumb brushes against the rope—the first time he allows himself more than a cursory touch, knowing the blood will gather there soon enough.
“Doing good, baby?” he asks against your hair, kissing it softly. He’s playing with your wrists, still unbound, scratching at the delicate skin with one hand while his other rests against your waist.
“Mhmm,” you respond, letting your head fall back on the crook of his neck. “Oh—a-ah!” The hand on your waist had moved up to cup your breast, the soft pad of his thumb brushing against your nipple with the barest hint of pressure. He did it again, watching your chest heave.
“Does that feel good?” Before you could answer, Gojo pinches you meanly before soothing over your nub again.
“Fuck, I need your mouth on me,” you whine, trying to nose against his jaw. You want to pry your arms apart and claw at him, to pin him down and make him forget about teasing you ever again.
“Soon enough, baby.” His hand leaves your breast to join the other one at your wrists, taking the excess jute and binding you finally.
At a certain point in every woman’s life she needs to disappear from the lives of everyone she knows and do her own thing because otherwise she would go crazy
mdni. multiple jjk men. fem reader. all fics will feature heavy smut + crack treated seriously. tags will be found in individual posts. gojo art by @keki1205 + div by @pixopix
it's raining...sharks? but, uh, instead of man-eating ones, it seems this one is hungry for pussy! will your ex-husband save you? or do you even want to be saved?
VELOCIPASTOR! starring veloicpastor!geto
WILL FEATURE BONDAGE + GLORY HOLE
as a stripper, you've had your fair share of strange clients. but, uh, a priest turned cult leader with the ability to transform into a velociraptor? yeah, that's a new one.
COCAINE BEAR! starring bear hybrid!toji
WILL FEATURE KNOTTING + PRIMAL PLAY
what's a wildlife activist to do when the bear hybrid she's been studying accidentally stumbles upon a shipment of cocaine? probably not have sex with him. easier said than done.
LAVALANTULA! starring scientist!nanami
WILL FEATURE HUMILIATION + BREEDING
keeping your crush on a coworker secret is hard! a lot harder when the volcano you've both been observing for months erupts - and now you've got to struggle to survive fire-breathing tarantulas together.
GOJO VS. EVIL! starring frat!gojo
WILL FEATURE SEX TOYS + APHRODISIACS
a cabin in the woods. a quiet pond to fish on. a relaxing little getaway where you could enjoy some peace and quiet. what could go wrong? a group of annoyingly attractive college students crashing your sweet spot - and start dying off after you save a beautiful blue-eyed idiot from drowning?
a/n: these fics will probably take me longer than october to finish up but i'll do my best <3 some of them will be shorter, closer to drabbles and few will be longer oneshots :3
Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar
part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here! part 5 here! part 6 here!
cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X
By Thursday afternoon, the campus had already slipped back into its familiar rhythm. Inside the café, students drifted in and out between classes, backpacks slung lazily over one shoulder, coffee cups balanced precariously in their hands as they hurried to their next destination. Laughter echoed through the room while the sharp hiss of the milk steamer rose from behind the counter.
None of it reached you.
Your notebook lay open in front of you, the same page untouched for the past ten minutes. The coffee you’d bought had long gone cold.
It had only been a few days since everything that happened at your apartment, and your brain still hadn’t fully caught up.
A few weeks ago, your biggest worry had been trying to steal glances at him without getting caught. He always sat in the same seat — impossibly tall even when slouched over his notebook, white hair catching the sunlight streaming through the lecture hall windows. He listened to every lecture with an almost embarrassing amount of focus, occasionally pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when they slipped.
Now…
Well. Life had taken a very strange turn.
Your fingers traced the edge of the paper cup absentmindedly as a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
He used to borrow your notes. It still sounded ridiculous.
Satoru Gojo — arguably the smartest person in any room he entered — would lean over after class with pink ears and that adorably hesitant smile.
“Could I borrow yours?”
At the time, you’d assumed he’d actually missed something. Or that your handwriting was just easier to read.
Now? You almost laughed. There was no universe in which Satoru Gojo genuinely needed your notes. He had just been looking for an excuse.
"...Idiot" you muttered
Though honestly, you weren’t sure if you were talking about him or yourself.
Your thoughts drifted again, unbidden, back to that hallway at Choso’s party. To the way you’d walked away convinced you had ruined any chance of things ever being normal again. To the guilt that had eaten you alive the next day… only to find out he had been unraveling just as badly.
You still didn’t know what to do with that information.
Or maybe you did — with a dark, warm certainty that settled low in your stomach.
Your mind betrayed you once more, replaying the image you’d been trying—and failing—not to revisit.
Satoru sitting in that chair. Head tipped inward. Glasses slipping down his nose. Looking up at you with those impossibly blue eyes, waiting for permission before doing something as simple as moving his own hand.
You swallowed.
You had spent days wondering what kind of woman could reduce someone so smart and composed into a hopeless, whimpering mess.
Turns out… it had been you all along.
Your mind immediately went back to it. That night in your room. You were there again, vividly—the way you had spread your legs on your own bed, handed him the dildo, and told him to show you exactly what he wanted to do to you. You could still feel the phantom weight of him between your thighs, the broken, jagged sounds he made while fucking you with it, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, glasses fogged up, face face flushed with a mix of shame and raw lust.
You remembered the way he had desperately moaned when you finally gave him permission to touch himself, how hard he came while staring at you with such reverent, shattered worship, and the quiet, hiccuping sobs that followed once he was spent. The memory of the look on his face when you finally opened the door and sent him home—dazed, hollowed out—sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your body.
You’d seen a side of him no one else had. The one who looked at you like every word out of your mouth was worth obeying. The one who blushed so beautifully. The one who tried so hard to be good for you.
You couldn’t stop wondering what would happen the next time someone leaned over his desk after class. The next time some girl smiled at him. The next time someone called his name with that same sugary sweetness you’d heard a hundred times before.
None of them had ever seen him falling apart beneath a single whispered command. None of them knew how desperately he tried to please you.
And, for reasons you weren’t quite ready to examine… You didn’t want anyone else to.
That thought lingered a little longer than it should have.
Shit.
Maybe that was the problem.
You’d walked into his apartment that night fully convinced you were the one about to ruin him, eager to finally confront him about that secret porn channel he’d dedicated to you. You’d wanted to watch him squirm, to see him realize he’d been caught in his own web of obsession.
Now you weren’t so sure who’d gotten the worse end of the deal.
“You’re gonna burn that page if you keep staring at it.”
Shoko’s voice cut cleanly through your thoughts. You flinched, the sharp edges of your reality snapping back into focus.
You blinked and finally looked up as she slid into the chair across from you. She looked effortlessly cool, condensation from her iced coffee dripping onto the table, that signature knowing grin already stretching across her face.
“I guess pretty eyes has you zoning out again,” she said, her voice dropping into a playful, teasing tone.
“Maybe” you muttered, your voice raspy. You took a long, calculated sip of your now lukewarm coffee, using it as a shield to avoid her piercing gaze. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks—not from the coffee, but from the vivid memory you’d just been replaying.
“Oh, that’s bad.”
“…What?”
“You said maybe,” Shoko pointed out, clearly delighted. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “A week ago, you would’ve denied it in 0.2 seconds, probably with a whole lecture about academic focus.”
You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to regain your composure, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips.
“I hate you.”
Shoko snorted and leaned back in her chair, studying you with open amusement, her gaze sharp, analyzing the way you were fidgeting with your cup. “…So?”
“So?” you echoed, already knowing where this was going.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened after you practically ran from Choso’s party following that hallway situation?” She tilted her head, her expression softening into mock-seriousness. “Or am I supposed to keep surviving on breadcrumbs for the rest of the semester?”
You looked away, tracing the rim of your cup with your thumb. The memory of Satoru’s wrecked face—glasses fogged, lips swollen, cum staining his hoodie—flashed behind your eyelids like a neon sign.
“We talked,” you said eventually
“Mhm.”
“And… some things happened.”
“Some things” Shoko repeated slowly, tasting the words. She took a slow sip of her drink, watching you over the rim of the cup. “Interesting choice of words for someone who usually has a descriptive analysis for everything.”
“I’m not elaborating.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, though her grin made it clear she was dying for details. She stirred her iced coffee absentmindedly “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, though. It’s written all over him.”
You frowned. “You met him twice.”
“Don’t need much more than that. It took me approximately thirty seconds to realize he would’ve folded like wet paper if you’d asked him to bark.”
You nearly choked on your coffee. Shoko just laughed softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“I’ll admit…” she continued, her voice dropping “I didn’t exactly picture you being the one calling the shots”
You raised an eyebrow.
“You thought I’d be the one getting bossed around?”
“…No. But I also didn’t expect him to hand you the leash on a silver platter with a little bow on it.”
A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
“Neither did I” you admitted, shaking your head.
Shoko glanced down at her phone, then back at you with a mischievous glint.
“Oh, by the way. Suguru’s having people over tonight.”
You paused. You’d heard the name before—just some guy Shoko had been taking a class with lately. She’d mentioned him in passing once or twice, though you’d never bothered to pay much attention to the details.
“He said I could invite you.” she added, tapping the screen.
“I think I’ll pass” you said.
Shoko smiled, slow and dangerous.
“No, you won’t.”
“…Why are you so sure?”
“Because pretty eyes is gonna be there. He’s friends with Suguru.”
You froze for half a second. You hadn't known that. The new information clicked into place, shifting the dynamics of your evening instantly. The anticipation hit you with a cold, sharp thrill.
“So… wear something cute” she added
“I’m not dressing up for him.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure you are,” Shoko said, dismissive. She leaned forward, smirking “Just don’t make the poor guy cry in someone else’s house.”
—
Back in your apartment, the silence felt almost suspicious after the constant, buzzing chatter of the campus café. Your bag lay abandoned on the couch, one boot discarded near the bedroom door after you’d kicked it off without thinking. You settled into your desk chair, laptop already open.
Almost instinctively, you opened the shared document:
Draft - Chemistry Project / Vancomycin Resistance
The cursor blinked, mocking you for a heartbeat before it moved—a sudden, frantic shift in the discussion section. You stared. He was online.
You watched, mesmerized, as Satoru smoothed out a clunky sentence, fixed a typo, and added a citation with effortless precision. Of course he was working on it on a Friday afternoon.
Your lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.
Nerd.
You skimmed his edits. He had formatted the references with almost mathematical obsession and left a small, tentative comment beside one paragraph:
Not sure if this explanation is clear enough. Feel free to rewrite it!
You snorted softly. It was perfectly clear.
Still…
You scanned the text, searching for the smallest, most insignificant thing you could change. You found it: a misplaced comma and a slightly awkward word choice. You fixed both, savoring the tiny thrill of editing his perfection.
After saving the document, you hesitated for a second before typing a single comment beneath his:
Now it's perfect.
You laughed as you imagined him reading it. You could practically see him adjusting his glasses, his brow furrowed as he frantically searched for the "mistakes" he’d made.
Closing the laptop, you stretched, the tension in your shoulders finally easing, and wandered toward the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, the apartment had grown darker, the late afternoon light replaced by cool evening shadows. You stood in front of your closet, telling yourself this wasn’t a big deal. Yet you still reached for your denim skirt and the soft off-the-shoulder blue top that left your collarbones exposed.
You pulled on your knee-high boots, the leather snug against your calves. Catching your reflection in the mirror, the familiar traitorous thought slipped in: Would he…
You rolled your eyes at yourself and shook the thought away.
You’re not dressing up for him.
You reached for your perfume anyway, pressing the cool mist against your wrists.
“…Whatever” you whispered to the empty room.
Your phone buzzed on the bed.
Shoko: Leaving in ten.
You grabbed your bag, slipped your phone inside, took one last look around the apartment, and turned off the lights.
—
The music could already be heard from the hallway, soft and low, more background than anything else. You and Shoko stopped in front of the door, and she knocked twice.
Suguru opened it almost immediately. His eyes lit up when he saw her first.
“There you are,” he said with a warm, easy smile, pulling her into a quick hug. “Took you long enough.”
Shoko laughed and stepped inside. “Traffic was annoying.”
Only then did Suguru’s gaze shift to you. He paused for half a second, studying you with quiet curiosity.
“You must be the chemistry partner,” he said, tone light and friendly. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Chemistry partner. Satoru had clearly talked about you. The realization sent a warm, dangerous flutter through your stomach.
“You too” you replied, offering him a small smile.
“Come in,” he said, stepping aside. He handed you a cold beer without asking, the gesture casual. “Help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen. We’re just chilling for now.”
As he walked away, you took a sip of your beer, your eyes scanning the room instinctively.
You found him on the couch. And, of course, the blonde girl from your chemistry class had already claimed the spot right beside him, her body angled toward his with irritating confidence.
Seriously? Again?
Satoru was mid-sentence when his gaze lifted and found you across the room. His eyes widened slightly. For a moment, whatever the girl had been saying died in the air between them.
You took him in with one quick look: a clean white t-shirt under an open light-blue shirt, black trousers, and those familiar glasses perched perfectly in place.
The blonde followed his line of sight. The moment she saw you, her expression shifted. It was a micro-interaction—No eye roll, no sneer. Just a slow, tight smile that flickered and faded the moment she realized who he was looking at. A silent, instinctive understanding.
She tried again, her voice slightly clipped. “Satoru?”
He didn’t respond. He didn't even blink.
So she made her move. It was natural, social, and perfectly acceptable—a hand resting lightly on his knee. A gesture meant to bridge the gap and drag him back to her reality.
“Toru… you heard me?” she asked, sweeter this time.
He blinked, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He looked slightly dazed, like he had to manually drag himself back to the conversation.
You took another sip of your beer, trying to ignore the sharp urge to walk over and remove her hand yourself.
Choso’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He approached with an easy grin, beer bottle dangling from his fingers.
"There she is"
“Hey,” you greeted, relaxing a little. “You know Suguru?”
“Yeah. Mutual friends.”
His eyes flicked toward the couch where Satoru was sitting, then back to you.
“You ever made it to his room?” he asked quietly.
You looked at him over the rim of your bottle. “Mmh.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. “Got it. I’m not Shoko — I’m not gonna interrogate you.”
“Thank you.”
Before you could say anything else, Shoko appeared and grabbed your arm, guiding you and Choso toward the empty space directly across from Satoru’s couch. The shift in the room was immediate.
Satoru’s head snapped up. His lips curved into a small, genuine smile.
You returned a faint one, but your eyes immediately dropped to the girl’s hand still resting on his knee.
Why the hell won’t she move it?
The conversation around you flowed with laughter and music, everyone talking about classes and exams. But everything felt secondary to the tension stretching between you and Satoru. Shoko was clearly entertained, watching the whole thing like free drama.
The girl, realizing she had lost his attention completely, tried to pull him back. “Satoru, you disappeared from the party that night. I never got the chance to ask where—”
“He was busy.” you cut in, your voice sharp and calm.
Satoru choked on his drink, coughing as his face flushed a deep pink.
The girl stiffened, her smile turning into a brittle mask of confusion and offense, clearly trying to figure out exactly who the hell you were to speak for him. Beside you, Shoko let out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
Before the silence could get too awkward, Suguru appeared from the kitchen, clapping his hands once.
“Alright, everyone,” he announced, eyes darting between you and Satoru with clear amusement “Who’s up for a game? Truth or Dare sounds fun tonight.”
—
The game started innocently enough. A loose circle had formed in the living room — some people on the couches, others sitting on the floor with drinks in hand.
Choso went first.
“Truth” he said, leaning back with a lazy grin.
Suguru asked something harmless about his worst date. Choso answered with brutal honesty, making the whole group burst into laughter.
Shoko was next. She picked Dare, of course. Suguru made her text her most recent ex something ridiculous. She did it without hesitation, adding her signature acidic commentary that had everyone cracking up.
Suguru was clearly enjoying steering the game. There was a glint in his eye every time he asked a question or gave a dare.
You stayed mostly quiet, observing.
Satoru was the most timid of the group. He kept picking Truth, answering in short, shy sentences, cheeks pink every time someone teased him.
“Crystal,” Suguru said, looking at the blonde girl. “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare” she answered confidently, smiling brightly.
Crystal. So that was her name. You’d never cared enough to learn it before.
“Sit on someone’s lap”
Crystal didn’t hesitate. She stood up gracefully and lowered herself onto Satoru’s lap, settling comfortably as if she belonged there. Her arm draped casually over his shoulder, body pressed against his chest.
Satoru froze.
You watched from across the circle, jaw tight.
Crystal laughed softly and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Her hand rested on his arm, then slid to his shoulder, and briefly across his chest.
You hated every second of it.
Satoru was visibly tense. His back was rigid, hands hovering awkwardly like he didn’t know where to put them. He answered her in monosyllables, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds — searching, almost apologetic.
It helped a little. But not enough.
Because her hand was still on him. Her body was still pressed against his. And you had to sit there and watch.
Shoko noticed everything. She didn’t say a word, but you could feel her gaze shifting between you, Crystal, and Suguru. You could practically hear her thinking: This is going to end badly.
Then your turn came.
Suguru looked at you, that dangerous little smile playing on his lips.
“Truth or Dare?”
You didn’t hesitate.
“Dare.”
Suguru’s smile widened.
“Pick one person. The two of you have to stay locked inside a room for fifteen minutes.”
A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted around the room. Someone wolf-whistled loudly. Shoko let out a laugh into her beer, already shaking her head in amusement. Suguru leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself.
You rose to your feet, your gaze locking onto Satoru. He was already looking at you.
“Satoru.”
A beat of heavy silence fell over the circle. Crystal blinked, her smile faltering completely for the first time that night.
Satoru swallowed hard. He gently helped her off his lap and stood up, a nervous expression on his face.
Without another glance at anyone else, you turned toward the hallway. A second later, you heard his footsteps following behind you.
The noise of the living room faded behind you as you walked down the dimly lit corridor, your boots clicking against the wooden floor. Satoru’s longer strides caught up quickly, though he kept a careful distance.
Suguru had locked the door behind you with a dramatic click and shouted “Fifteen minutes, lovebirds! No cheating!” followed by laughter from the group.
Now it was just the two of you in a small guest bedroom that smelled faintly of laundry and someone’s cologne.
You walked over to the dresser on the left and turned to face him.
Satoru stood near the door, hands shoved deep into his pockets, white hair messy under the warm lamp light. He looked tall and awkward and unfairly beautiful, like he didn’t quite know what to do with his own body in this small, intimate space.
“So…” he started, voice softer than usual, almost shy. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah you replied leaning back against the dresser, trying to appear calmer than you felt. “Fifteen minutes.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The silence stretched between you, thick with anticipation. Finally, he spoke again.
“I didn’t think you’d pick me,” he admitted, eyes flicking to the floor before returning to yours. “I thought maybe… I don’t know. Someone else.”
“Why? Are you upset you had to get up from where you were sitting comfortably with Crystal?” The name left a bitter taste on your tongue. “That is her name, isn't it?”
He winced. “What? N-no—I mean, she's nice, but—”
“I'm sure she is,” you cut him off, jealousy flaring in your chest. “You let her sit on your lap.”
The image flashed in your mind again — her perched on him, laughing, while he looked uncomfortable but didn’t push her away. Even though you knew it meant nothing to him, it still stung.
“It’s— It’s not like that,” he rushed out, eyes wide with urgency. “She just sat without asking and I didn’t know how to say no without being rude.”
God, he’s so cute when he panics like this.
You pushed off the dresser and stepped closer, holding his gaze. Satoru’s breath hitched audibly. His ears turned pink, the flush quickly spreading across his sharp cheekbones.
“I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you want”
The words from one of his videos echoed in your mind, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.
“Sit on the bed” you ordered.
He obeyed instantly, walking to the mattress and lowering his tall frame onto the edge. The bed dipped under his weight. You followed, climbing onto his lap and straddling him without hesitation.
Satoru’s eyes widened, a sharp inhale escaping him as your thighs settled on either side of his hips. You could already feel him starting to harden beneath you, the growing bulge pressing against your core through his jeans.
Heat flooded your body at the contact.
“Would you prefer her sitting on you like this?” you asked
“N-no, please” he breathed
“Mmmh.” You hummed softly, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Do you like my outfit, Satoru?”
Of course you had dressed for him tonight, even if you’d pretended not to.
He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “Y-Yeah… You look… beautiful,” he said, voice hoarse. “You always do.”
Your chest tightened with a confusing mix of affection and lingering jealousy.
“What do you like?” you pressed, leaning in closer.
“Your—” His breath hitched as you pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. You felt his pulse jump wildly under your lips. “Your collarbone.. it’s exposed. I like it.”
His hands remained obediently at his sides, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. The sight of his restraint made something dark and satisfied bloom inside you.
“Touch it” you whispered.
“What?”
“Touch it” you repeated, taking one of his large hands and guiding it to your neck, then slowly dragging it lower. His palm was warm against your skin.
He swallowed again, struggling to keep his breathing steady.
“And what else?” you asked, guiding his hand further until it rested on the swell of your breast.
“Your… tits,” he admitted, voice cracking. “They look so pretty.”
You smirked and pressed his hand more firmly against you. Satoru let out a soft, broken sound, dropping his head forward to bury it in the crook of your neck. His breath came hot and shaky against your skin.
“Look at me, Satoru.”
He lifted his head. His eyes were dazed, glassy with arousal.
You shifted on his lap, your short skirt riding up higher and exposing more of your thighs. “And my skirt?”
His gaze dropped immediately, drinking in the sight of your thighs spread over him, the tiny skirt bunched up around your hips, and the obvious, thick bulge straining against his jeans. He was fully hard now, throbbing beneath you.
“I like it so much…” he whispered.
You took his other hand and guided it between your legs, pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your panties.
Satoru whimpered — a raw, needy sound — and his hips jerked up instinctively against you.
“Ahh—fuck…” he gasped, voice breaking as his fingers felt how wet you were. “You’re soaked.”
The jealousy from earlier still simmered under your skin, now mixing with raw, overwhelming desire. You rocked your hips slowly against his hand, letting him feel every bit of your heat while you leaned in close to his ear.
“Remember when I said we’d take this slow and you’d be rewarded?” you whispered, lips brushing his skin.
He nodded frantically, lips parted, breathing ragged.
You reached down between your bodies and palmed his hard length through his jeans. The moment you slowly unzipped him, his cock sprang free — heavy, flushed, and leaking at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.
You wrapped your fingers around him, giving one slow, teasing stroke. Before he could even process that you were finally touching him, you lifted your hips and positioned his throbbing cock right against your soaked panties.
“Ah—fuck, please” he begged, voice loud and desperate.
“Be a good boy and don’t cum, yeah?” you murmured against his lips.
Satoru moaned loudly, head falling back as his hips twitched beneath you, fighting hard to obey.
You kept your hand wrapped around his thick length for a moment longer, savoring how it pulsed hot and heavy in your palm. Then you lifted your hips just enough to drag the swollen head of his cock along your drenched panties.
The first slide was devastating.
His cock was burning hot; the thick head nudged against your clit through the thin fabric, parting your folds slightly and sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
“Ahh—fuck!” Satoru choked out, the sound raw and broken. “You’re so wet—I can’t”
“Look at me” you ordered, voice husky.
Satoru forced his eyes open. His pupils were blown wide, lashes fluttering. His cheeks were flushed dark red, lips shiny and parted as he panted. He already looked completely ruined, and you’d barely started.
You rocked your hips faster, pressing your soaked core harder against his throbbing cock. The way it slid between your folds — even through your panties — felt sinful. His thickness spread you open with every pass, the head nudging insistently against your entrance before sliding back up to torture your clit again.
Satoru’s hands fisted the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. His hips jerked up involuntarily, chasing the heat of your pussy.
“I—I can’t… you feel too good,” he whimpered, voice cracking beautifully. “I’m trying— fuck, I’m trying to be good—ahhn—”
You bit your lip, drunk on the desperate sounds he was making. Then you reached down, hooked your panties to the side with two fingers, and slowly nestled the bare, leaking head of his cock against your dripping folds.
Skin to skin for the first time.
The moment his hot, velvety cock pressed directly against your slick pussy, both of you moaned. The sensation was overwhelming. There was no fabric left between you — just the burning heat of his throbbing length sliding between your wet folds, coating him in your arousal.
“Oh my god—” Satoru gasped, eyes rolling back. His cock twitched violently against you, a thick bead of precum smearing across your clit. “It’s so warm… fuck— I can feel you dripping on me”
You started grinding on him again, slower this time, savoring the way his thick shaft slid perfectly between your folds. The swollen head bumped your clit with every upward stroke while the veiny underside dragged along your entrance, teasing you both mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room — slick schlick-schlick-schlick with every roll of your hips, your arousal making everything deliciously messy.
Satoru was trembling beneath you, thighs shaking, breathing in short, desperate gasps. Sweat beaded on his collarbones. His cock was so hard it looked painful, flushed dark and twitching every time you slid over him.
A broken sob escaped his throat. “Y-yes— I’ll be good, I promise…”
You kept grinding on him, slow and deliberate, letting his bare cock slide between your slick folds. Satoru was falling apart underneath you, whimpering shamelessly with every pass. “Ah— ah— ah—”
“God… you have no idea how much I want your cock inside my tight pussy” you moaned.
Satoru let out another broken sob, hips jerking helplessly beneath you.
“I’m trying to punish you,” you panted, pressing down harder so his thick head caught against your entrance again and again without ever slipping inside, “but with every second I’m closer to just sinking down on you.”
His whole body trembled violently. You looked down between your bodies, watching his massive length slide through your glistening folds.
“Fucking biggest thing I’ve seen in my life…” you moaned, grinding faster, “and all I want is to bounce on it.”
Satoru cried out, head falling back, eyes glassy with desperation. His cock pulsed wildly, leaking nonstop all over your pussy as he fought not to cum.
“Fuck— please— don’t say that—” he whimpered, voice cracking. “I’m already losing my mind…”
He looked like he was in pain. Thighs shaking, veins standing out on his neck as he struggled with everything he had not to thrust up and bury himself inside you.
“Good,” you whispered, leaning down to bite his neck. “Suffer for me, Satoru. This is what you get for letting another girl sit on your lap.”
Satoru was nearly sobbing now, whimpering pathetically with every roll of your hips.
“You’re mine, Toru,” you panted, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Not Crystal’s. Not anyone else’s.”
“I’m yours— I’m yours— please—”
You could feel your own orgasm building — that tight, hot coil in your lower belly winding tighter with every wet slide. His cock was so hot, so hard, the veins dragging perfectly against your sensitive folds while his precum mixed with your slick, making everything obscenely slippery.
But he was getting too loud.
You reached down and yanked your top down in one smooth motion, freeing your breasts.
“Shut up, Toru,” you hissed, voice husky with pleasure. “They’re gonna hear you. Be a good boy and keep your mouth occupied.”
Satoru’s eyes widened with raw hunger. Without hesitation, he took off his glasses and tossed them onto the bed, then surged forward and latched onto your right breast. He sucked it into his hot, wet mouth like a man starved, his big hands gripping your waist.
“Fuck— yes…” you moaned softly, threading your fingers through his white hair and pulling him closer.
He whimpered loudly against your tit, the vibration shooting straight to your clit. He sucked harder, tongue swirling around your stiff nipple, alternating between sucking and licking as he lost himself completely in you. His moans turned muffled — wet, desperate sounds vibrating against your skin.
You started grinding faster, more desperately.
“That’s it… just like that,” you panted. “Feel how wet I am for you? My pussy’s dripping all over your cock, Toru.”
Satoru moaned pitifully into your breast, sucking harder as his hips jerked up to meet your movements. His cock twitched violently between your folds, clearly on the edge, but he fought it with everything he had.
“Ah— ah— mmph—!”
You rolled your hips in tight circles, pressing your clit firmly against the head of his cock. The pressure was perfect. Your thighs began to tremble.
“You’re being such a good boy,” you whispered, voice shaking with pleasure. “I can feel you leaking so much… you want to cum so bad, don’t you? But you’re not allowed. Not yet.”
Satoru let out a wrecked, muffled cry against your breast, sucking even harder as his body trembled violently beneath you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin.
You were so close.
Your grinding became frantic and sloppy, your soaked pussy sliding faster along his cock. The wet sounds were obscene.
“Fuck— Satoru— I’m gonna cum” you gasped.
Your orgasm hit you like a wave.
You cried out, thighs clamping around his hips as your pussy clenched and pulsed against his bare cock. Pleasure crashed through you in powerful waves, your slick gushing over his length while you kept grinding through every pulse of ecstasy.
Satoru whimpered loudly into your breast, body shaking as he fought not to cum with you. His cock throbbed wildly between your folds, but he held back — barely.
You rode out the last aftershocks, breathing hard, still slowly grinding your sensitive pussy along his drenched cock while he continued sucking greedily on your tit.
When the pleasure finally faded, you were left panting and trembling on top of him. Satoru was still sucking gently on your breast, whimpering softly, his cock throbbing painfully between your folds, denied any release.
You looked down at him — flushed, desperate, and crying again.
You winced, remembering Shoko’s earlier words.
“Don’t cry, baby,” you whispered, voice hoarse. You cupped his face with both hands and gently pulled him off your breast. “You’ve been such a good boy. You did so well for me. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Satoru let out a shaky, broken whimper at the praise, his blue eyes glassy and unfocused. His lips were swollen and shiny, cheeks burning red. He looked completely wrecked.
Just then, a loud knock echoed through the door.
“One minute!” Suguru called, amusement clear in his voice.
“Now we’re going back out there,” you murmured, leaning close to his ear, “and you’re going to hold it in until we get back to my place. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”
Satoru nodded frantically. “Y-yes… I’ll hold it. I promise.”
You leaned in and kissed him deeply, slow and filthy. He moaned softly into your mouth, hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.
When you finally pulled back, you climbed off his lap. Satoru stayed seated for a moment longer, breathing hard, trying to pull himself together. You fixed your top and skirt while he tucked his painfully hard, leaking cock back into his pants, wincing at the obvious bulge. He ran both hands through his messy white hair, rubbed his eyes, and put his glasses back on, attempting to look at least a little less destroyed.
As you both walked toward the door, you glanced back at him. The words spilled out before you could stop them.
“Don’t get close to Crystal again.”
Satoru nodded immediately. “I won’t” he whispered, voice still hoarse.
He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask if you were serious.
Just… I won’t.
It should have felt like a victory. Instead, it left a dangerous thought echoing in your mind:
Since when had you started acting like you had the right?
This was... STIMULATING, to say the least
Also... not Crystal making another cameo lmao🤣 (see this one)
Reblogs are sooo appreciated
part 8 coming soon !
masterlist
Exam stress leads to a late night horny decision. Everything is going great, until the guy in the video starts sounding a little too familiar
part 1 here! . part 2 here! . part 3 here! . part 4 here! part 5 here!
cr: 3vangel1ne_ on X
Before you read, I’m going to be completely honest: this was barely proofread. Sorry in advance! I’ll go back and edit it later if I find any typos
If you like listening to music while reading, I recommend this!
-
“Were you filming yourself while thinking about me, Satoru?”
The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.
His heart slammed against his ribs so hard he was certain you could hear it. His mouth went dry instantly. Between the two of you, the phone screen glowed like a live grenade on the coffee table; his own wrecked, pathetic voice still spilling from the speakers, mocking him with every confession.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He wanted to disappear. He wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole. He wanted to grab the phone and throw it out the window. Or throw himself out the window. But the worst part — the most humiliating, soul-crushing part — was that he was already getting hard again. A slow, shameful throb in his sweatpants, triggered simply by the way you were looking at him.
“I…” His voice cracked immediately. He swallowed but his throat was tight with rising panic. He forced himself to look at you.
Big mistake.
You were sitting on his couch like you belonged there, legs crossed, watching him systematically fall apart with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher.
You reached forward and tapped the screen, silencing the video. The sudden quiet was deafening. The absence of his own moans left only the sound of his ragged breathing and the frantic beating of his heart.
“You what, Satoru?” you asked, your voice deceptively soft.
The heat crawled up his neck, burning his ears a deep, painful crimson. He could feel sweat gathering at the back of his neck. His mind was a storm of static and shame.
She knows.
She knows I came in my pants like a pathetic loser in that hallway.
She heard me begging.
She knows I’ve been jerking off to her for months while pretending to be normal in class.
She knows exactly how disgusting I am.
“I—Yes” he whispered finally. The word tasted like surrender. He dragged a hand through his messy white hair, pulling at the roots as if he could yank the thoughts right out of his brain.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of you, but the image of you was burned into his retinas. When he opened them, you were still there. Still watching. Still judging.
“I tried to stop,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, fractured mutter. “After the first time, I—no. Fuck. That sounds like an excuse. I’m just making it worse.”
His cock twitched traitorously against the cloth, a sharp, stinging reminder of how badly he wanted to be at your feet. He shifted in the chair, a futile attempt to hide it, though he knew with agonizing certainty that you had noticed. He looked up, his blue eyes glassy, shimmering with a desperate vulnerability.
“I’m sorry” he muttered “I know how fucked up this is. You must think I’m disgusting. Some creep who’s been jerking off to you for months while borrowing your notes like nothing was wrong.”
The silence that followed was torture. Every second stretched painfully. His pulse thundered in his ears. He felt stripped bare, raw, and completely at your mercy. And, in a way that made him hate himself even more, he found that he absolutely craved the feeling.
He swallowed hard, his throat clicking, his gaze dropping to his lap where the bulge in his pants was becoming impossible to ignore. He felt so exposed it was killing him.
“I’ll delete the channel,” he said, the words tumbling out of him, desperate and jagged. He looked up again, his eyes wide and pleading, searching yours for any sign of mercy. “I’ll delete everything. All of it. Just… please, don’t hate me.”
He waited for the rejection. He braced himself for you to stand up, to leave, to call him a freak—anything would have been easier than this terrifying, steady gaze of yours.
“No” you tilted your head “That would be such a waste, don’t you think?”
His brain short-circuited.
For a second he just stared at you, lips parted, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. The words didn’t compute at first. His heart was hammering so violently he felt dizzy.
She said… waste?
A violent shiver ran down his spine. His cock, already half-hard and traitorously interested, gave a full twitch inside his sweatpants. He hated how his body reacted before his brain could even process it.
“You…” His voice came out hoarse, almost broken. “W-What?”
Inside his head, the thoughts were screaming.
She knows everything. She saw me crying in the shower like a pathetic whore begging for her. She heard me say I wanted her to sit on my face in the hallway. And she’s saying it would be a waste to delete it?
Heat flooded his face so intensely he was sure he looked feverish. Shame burned through him, thick and nauseating, but underneath it — god, underneath it — there was a sick, desperate spark of hope. Of want.
You stood up slowly.
His breath caught in his throat as he watched you rise from the couch. You rounded the coffee table, and instinctively, he turned in his chair to keep you in sight. By the time you stopped in front of him, towering over his seated form, he had to tilt his head back to meet your eyes.
You leaned down, one hand resting lightly on the back of his neck. Your breath ghosted on the other side of his head, just against his ear
“You’ve spent so much time performing for me, Satoru,” you whispered, voice velvety. “Begging for me in front of a camera…”
He leaned forward slightly, almost unconsciously, like his body was begging to get closer to you.
You continued, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
“Don’t you think it’s time you do it in my face?”
Then you slowly pulled back. His heart dropped as you walked around the coffee table and sat down on the couch again, facing him directly. The distance felt both relieving and agonizing.
Your gaze dropped for a second to his lap, then back up to his face. You bit your lip.
“Show me” you said quietly.
Satoru’s brain malfunctioned.
“W-what…?”
“Touch yourself,” you said. “Right now. In front of me. And tell me everything you’ve been thinking about when you do it.”
The room spun.
Satoru stared at you, mouth dry, heart thundering so hard he felt dizzy. He looked at you with wide, glassy eyes — desperate, ashamed, and so painfully turned on it hurt.
“I’ve been watching your videos for the last two weeks, Satoru,” you said, voice steady and clear. “Touching myself while listening to you moan. Cumming harder than I ever have in my life. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking you were talking about some other girl. And I suffered because of it.” You leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on his. “So now you’re going to touch yourself in front of me. Right now.”
Satoru’s brain imploded.
She… subscribed?
The realization hit him like a freight train. All this time… you had been there. His mouth fell open. His eyes widened in pure, devastating shock.
It was you.
The question about the molecule on his hoodie. The way you suggested vancomycin for the project without hesitation.
You had known for weeks. And instead of exposing him or hating him… you had been getting off to it.
He didn’t even have time to process it when you spoke again
“Touch. Yourself” you commanded, your voice cutting through his stupor like a whip.
He didn't need to be told a third time. His obedience was instantaneous, a desperate reflex born from the knowledge that you had seen every pathetic, broken moment of his obsession. With fingers that felt thick and clumsy with adrenaline, he untied the drawstring of his sweatpants.
The moment he freed himself, his flushed, aching cock sprang out, heavy and leaking at the tip. He looked up at you, pupils blown wide with shame and lust, silently begging for any sign of mercy.
But what he found was far worse.
You were biting your lip, eyes dark and fixed on his cock, as if the sight genuinely delighted you.
That was enough. A broken whimper tore from his throat before he could stop it. His hand finally wrapped around his throbbing length, and the first stroke pulled another pathetic sound out of him, his head dropping forward, white hair falling over his eyes and the thin frame of his glasses as he tried to hide from your gaze.
“Look at me” your voice was calm but firm. “If you had no problem saying those filthy things on camera while thinking about me, then you can say them to my face, Satoru.”
Satoru let out a shaky, humiliated sob. Slowly, he lifted his head, forcing himself to meet your eyes.
His hand started moving, slow and trembling.
“I… every time you walked into class…” he whispered, voice cracking, “I couldn’t stop staring at your legs… fuck— I kept imagining them wrapped around my head…”
“Faster.”
Satoru whimpered and obeyed instantly, his hand speeding up.
“Your face… You’re so pretty— ahh— I’d cum thinking about you looking down at me while I eat you out…”
“Slow down.”
He let out a desperate noise but obeyed, slowing his strokes to a torturous pace, hips twitching helplessly.
“I thought about your tits constantly… how soft they’d feel… how much I wanted to bury my face between them and suck on them until my tongue gets sore…”
“Squeeze the head” you murmured.
Satoru gasped sharply, thumb pressing over the sensitive head on every upstroke, precum dripping over his fingers.
“I kept wondering if you— fuck— if it would’ve fit…”
“Faster again. Keep going.”
His hand immediately picked up speed, strokes becoming frantic.
“Your voice… how smart you are… the way you explain things in class like it’s nothing, it— it turned me on so much”
His thighs were shaking now. He was dangerously close.
“And your perfume… I could smell it every time you walked past me… it made me so fucking hard I wanted to drop to my knees and bury my face between your legs right there— Fuck— I can’t—”
“Stop, Satoru.”
The command hit him like a bucket of ice water.
He let out a broken, pained whimper. His hand froze around his throbbing cock, right on the edge. Every muscle in his body tensed as he fought the overwhelming urge to keep going. His hips twitched desperately, trying to chase the friction, but he forced himself to stay still. Tears slipped down his flushed cheeks. The effort was inhuman. His cock pulsed angrily in his hand, leaking steadily, begging for release.
You stood up slowly. Satoru stayed exactly where he was, hand still wrapped around himself, trembling violently as he fought not to cum. He watched you kick the small coffee table aside with a harsh scrape. Then you stepped between his spread knees, towering over him.
Gently, you slid his glasses off his face and perched them atop his messy white hair before leaning down until your faces were only inches apart.
“Cum” you whispered against his lips.
Then you kissed him.
The contact was the final spark on a fuse. He let out a wrecked, muffled moan directly into your mouth. Thick, heavy ropes of cum spilled over his hand and onto his hoodie in powerful, uncontrollable spurts. His whole body shook violently as he kissed you back with desperate need, whimpering and whining against your lips with every pulse.
When the last spasm finally faded, you pulled back slightly. You lowered his glasses back onto his nose with careful fingers. He could barely focus — his vision was blurry, his mind completely blank.
“You don’t know how much I want to fuck you Satoru…” you murmured, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “All I want is to sink down on your cock right here… but you’ve been a really bad boy.”
Satoru let out a broken, needy moan at your words. The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. You wanted him. You actually wanted to fuck him. The thought made his spent cock twitch weakly in his hand.
“So we’re going to do this slowly,” you whispered, your thumb stroking his bottom lip. “And you’ll be rewarded like the good boy I know you can be. Yeah?”
He could only nod weakly, completely fucked out. His mind was blank, his body still trembling, eyes glassy with exhaustion and overwhelming emotion.
You straightened up, gave him one final look, and turned around, leaving him there — hand still weakly wrapped around his spent cock, covered in his own mess, completely ruined.
—
Leaving Satoru’s dorm took far more self-control than you expected. The second the door clicked shut behind you, your legs felt weak. You leaned against the wall in the hallway for a moment, heart still racing, thighs pressed together as you tried to calm the throbbing between them.
Sitting in front of him, you realized that the camera had done him zero justice. In person he was so much thicker, longer and prettier, with veins that mapped all his length in beautiful lines. The memory of how that thick, pulsing length felt in your mind, and the impossible size of him made your stomach drop. You could almost feel the phantom of his cock opening you up, the exquisite, sharp pain of being filled by someone who wanted you that badly.
And you had made him cum just from your voice and a kiss.
The memory made your mouth water like a bitch in heat.
By the time you reached your dorm, you were so soaked it was uncomfortable. You locked the door, stripped down to nothing, and touched yourself furiously on your bed, replaying the sounds he made when he came — those broken, desperate whimpers right against your lips. You came twice that night thinking about him, no video needed.
The next day in class, when you saw him walk in wearing that stupid vancomycin hoodie, you were fighting for your life.
You wanted to drag him into the nearest empty classroom and ride him so hard neither of you could walk for days. You wanted to push him against the wall and take that thick, heavy cock in your mouth, feeling his hands tangle in your hair while you worked him until his knees buckled. You wanted to hear him lose his mind, to make him beg, to hear the exact moment your name turned into a plea.
But you held back.
You wanted him desperate. You wanted him to be just as hollowed out and starving as you had been, shivering in your bed while you watched his videos, consumed by the agonizing, burning jealousy of wondering who else he was touching himself for.
So you stayed cruel.
You ignored the way he looked at you in the hallways with those big, pleading blue eyes. You ignored how he seemed to hover near your usual seat, body language practically screaming for a sign, for a touch, for a reason to snap. Every time you walked past him, feeling his gaze tracking you, you tightened your thighs, reminded of how easily you could break him.
The days dragged on like that. Torture for both of you.
Until Friday night, when you finally picked up your phone and typed the message.
Tomorrow 6pm? For the project. My dorm.
You hit send. Then you watched the little typing… bubble appear.
Disappear.
Reappear.
Disappear again.
Nearly a minute passed before your phone buzzed.
I’ll be there
—
By the time Satoru knocked on your door at 6pm on Saturday, you had already decided how the night was going to go.
You opened the door wearing nothing but a thin white tank top with no bra and tiny black pajama shorts. The moment he saw you, his eyes widened, dropping straight to your chest, then to your bare thighs. He swallowed hard.
“Come in” you said calmly, stepping aside.
He walked into your dorm like he was entering sacred ground. His eyes darted around — the desk covered in notes, the photos on the wall.
He looked nervous. And it was endearing.
For the first hour, you actually made him work. You explained papers, pointed at diagrams, asked him questions. He tried his best to focus, but you could see the way his eyes kept drifting to your chest, the way he shifted uncomfortably every few minutes.
You loved how hard he was trying.
You leaned in closer, pressing your soft tits against his arm as you pointed at something on the laptop.
“You’re doing so good, Toru…” you murmured near his ear. “Keeping focused even though you’re already so hard for me.”
He let out a shaky breath, the little nickname breaking something inside him.
You kept teasing him like that — small touches, pressing your body against him, whispering praise while talking about the project. By the time you finally closed the laptop, he was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, cock visibly straining against his sweatpants.
“Come with me?” you said softly.
You led him into your bedroom, the air suddenly thick and stifling. The only light came from your bedside lamp, casting shadows across the sheets—the very same sheets you’d ruined yourself on multiple times watching him.
Satoru stood in the center of the room, looking like a man standing on the edge of a cliff desperate to jump.
“Close the door, Satoru” you said
He obeyed instantly, the click of the lock sounding like a gavel. He turned back to you, his blue eyes blown wide, searching your face behind his glasses.
“You haven’t said a word since you got here, aside from chem stuff” you remarked, stepping closer. “Are you enjoying the torture? Is that what this is for you?”
“It—It’s not torture,” he rasped, his voice rough “I just— I can’t breathe. I’ve been thinking about you all day, all week”
You stopped right in front of him, looking up at his tall frame.
“Tell me, Satoru…” you said softly, reaching up to brush your fingers along his jaw. “What do you want to do to me? Say it.”
He swallowed hard, struggling to get the words out.
“I… I want to drop to my knees and bury my face between your legs,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I want to taste you until you’re pulling my hair and telling me I’m doing good”
He was breathing faster now, clearly humiliated by his own honesty, but he kept going.
“I want to feel how tight you are around me. I want to hear you moan my name while I fill you up…”
His voice cracked at the end, eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment.
You smiled softly, heart racing with satisfaction. Without saying anything, you turned around and walked slowly toward your nightstand, giving him a perfect view of your ass in those tiny shorts.
“And what do you want to do to my pussy, mmh?” you asked over your shoulder
You opened the drawer and retrieved your new toy—thick, realistic, and a little oversized. You’d bought it with one purpose in mind: to stretch yourself out until you could finally handle him
You turned around, holding the toy in your hand, and climbed onto the bed. You sat against the headboard, legs slightly parted, and looked at him.
Satoru’s eyes were glued to the dildo. His mouth was open, cheeks burning red. He looked completely overwhelmed.
With your eyes fixed on him, you hooked your thumb into the waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs in one smooth motion. You tossed them aside and spread your legs slowly, exposing your glistening pussy to him.
You extended the dildo toward him.
“Come show me,” you said softly, voice dripping with need. “Show me exactly what you want to do to me, Satoru.”
Satoru froze. For several long seconds he just stared, completely stunned. His mouth fell open slightly, blue eyes wide behind his glasses as they raked over your body — your nipples hardening through the thin tank top, your spread thighs, your wet, shiny pussy right in front of him.
He had spent months fantasizing about this exact moment. Months touching himself while imagining you like this. And now it was real.
He crawled between your legs like he was in a trance, breathing ragged and uneven.
“Fuck…” he whispered, almost to himself. His glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he leaned in closer, eyes glued to your dripping entrance. “You’re too beautiful, I’m going to die”
His hand trembled violently as he took the dildo from you.
“Stop waiting for permission Satoru” you groaned, impatient “Show me how badly you want to be inside me“
He obeyed, pressing the thick head of the toy against your folds, rubbing it up and down slowly, coating it with your slick. His breath hitched every time he felt how wet you were.
You moaned softly.
“Put it in” you encouraged.
He slowly pushed the tip inside you. The sight of your pussy stretching around the toy made him let out a broken, needy moan.
“Oh my god…” he breathed, voice wrecked. “You’re so wet…”
He started thrusting the dildo slowly, almost reverently, his eyes never leaving the point where it disappeared inside you. He reached out with his free hand, resting his palm gently against your thigh.
“You’re doing so good,” you murmured, rolling your hips to meet his movements. “Fuck— this is not even as big as you… You’re going to fucking rip me up, won’t you?”
Satoru whimpered loudly, pushing the toy deeper.
“I want to…” he confessed, voice trembling but growing bolder with every thrust. “I want to stretch you open so bad… I want to feel how tight you’d be around my cock… I’ve jerked off so many times imagining how you’d squeeze me…”
His strokes became more confident. The shame was still there, burning on his cheeks, but the hunger was winning. He was getting lost in the sight of you.
You moaned louder, one hand reaching down to rub your clit.
“Faster” you breathed “Show me how you’d ruin me.”
He complied instantly , fucking you with the dildo harder, eyes glassy behind his glasses as he watched every inch slide in and out of you.
“You’re so wet…” he whispered, almost in awe. “I can hear how soaked you are… I want to bury my cock inside you so bad… I want to feel you clench around me while I fill you up.”
After a few minutes, you looked at him with dark, hungry eyes.
“You can touch yourself,” you said. “Stroke that big cock while you fuck me with the toy.”
Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pushed his pants down with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock, stroking himself in time with the thrusts of the dildo.
“Fuck— you’re so tight…” he groaned, eyes flicking between your pussy and your face. “I don’t know how I’m going to fit —ahh—but I want to try so bad. I want to stretch you open until you’re —fuck—crying my name”
Satoru’s breath hitched, his strokes growing erratic and desperate.
You reached up, threading your fingers into his snowy hair and yanking him down into a fierce, messy kiss, swallowing his broken moans as your tongue claimed his mouth. He melted instantly, letting you lead, his strokes turning sloppy and frantic as he fucked you with the toy exactly how you wanted.
The coil inside you snapped first. You cried out against his lips, thighs trembling as your orgasm ripped through you, clenching hard around the dildo while pleasure flooded your body.
The moment you started cumming, Satoru broke.
“Mmph—!” His muffled whine vibrated against your mouth as his whole body jerked. Thick, warm spurts of cum spilled over his fingers and onto your stomach while he kept desperately kissing you back, needy and sloppy, like he couldn’t bear to pull away even while he was falling apart. His hips stuttered, hand still weakly pumping his cock through the orgasm, completely lost in you.
When you finally let him breathe, he was panting heavily, cheeks flushed deep red, lips swollen and shiny. His forehead dropped against your neck, hot and shaky breaths fanning over your skin.
You were still coming down from your high, gently stroking his hair, when you felt it — something warm and wet against your collarbone.
You blinked, tilting your head slightly.
He tried to hide it by pressing his face harder into your neck, but his shoulders were trembling and little sniffles kept escaping him.
He was crying. The realization made you start to panic.
“Satoru, no—I’m s—”
“God—” he choked out “That was the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”
You buried your face in your hand, his breath still lingering against your neck.
Now, you were the one who was truly fucked.
You finally got a taste... you can’t say I’m edging you anymore LOL 😭
Reblogs are sooo appreciated
part 7 here!
masterlist
synopsis: you never meant to get in the middle of a marriage. but when you're caught between your beautiful best friend and the king she was forced to wed, you find your position as a maid-turned-concubine particularly challenging - especially when he begins demanding an heir from one of you. can gojo keep you all to herself? or will everything else keep getting in the way?
pairing: queen!gojo x concubine!reader (x king!geto)
wc: 20.7k
content: mdni. angst + smut, medieval setting, FEM!JO!!!, YURI YURI YURI!!!, lots of yearning and pining, intense jealousy, loathing, childhood crushes, gojo is obsessed, yandere!femjo tbh, piv sex, character death, trauma, reader is suffering, heavy angst, fear of being abandoned, cold and conniving gojo, but she's also a sweet puppy for her girl, they want each other so bad, humiliation, wrongful imprisonment, unbalanced power dynamics, master/maid relationship, use of nicknames (princess, angel), geto slander lmfao, confessions, kissing, oral sex (f! recieving), fingering, blindfolds and restraints, 69, multiple positions, happy ending
a/n: this was a commission for my incredibly lovely angel @cantarcantar + the art above is from the super talented @anniewinniie and the div is by @/tsumiinum
“Fuck, Suguru, you’re so-”
As much as Satoru enjoyed hearing your pretty little pants and moans, she was rather sick of hearing you whine his name instead of hers.
But of course, even if she was the queen, what could she do when you were her husband’s concubine?
“Someone’s going to hear you, pretty,” he wryly replied, and she could practically hear the smirk in his honeyed voice, syrupy sweet just for you.
Blegh.
She held in her gag, grimacing at his deep grunt.
Satoru parted the thick vines concealing your not-so-secret garden hideaway. Tucked behind flowering bushes, forget-me-not covered trellises, a blanket was spread out on the green grass of your hidden nook as Suguru fucked you right there, your dress bunched up above your hips as he greedily plunged his ridiculously oversized cock inside you.
Where was the patience?
The preparation?
Treating you like a princess rather than rutting into you like some ruthless animal?
Satoru felt her mouth twitch down, heart freezing as she found herself slipping through the gap in the trellises, forcing herself to slyly smile as she interrupted the scene.
“Suguru,” she called out, keeping her voice airy and calm as she condescendingly looked down at your bodies tangled together. Containing the cold anger that had sunk its claws into her heart as she cleared her throat, sucking in a slow breath, “Your advisor is looking for you.”
Her husband threw an annoyed look over his shoulder, dark bangs falling in his face as his soft purple eyes hardened into a scowl.
“He can wait,” he grimaced, as if to say, so can you.
But Satoru could be just as stubborn.
“I heard it’s about a rather important matter,” she lied, shrugging her shoulders as the skirt of her finely embroidered dress swung and shifted by her feet.
“I will be finished in just a-”
“We can always continue when you return,” you reassured him, brushing his bangs back out of his face and biting down on your glossy bottom lip.
You knew your place.
Content to be that knave’s concubine, free for him to use whenever he pleased. Unbothered no matter how many times he expected you to wait and adhere to his whims when he should be doing his damndest to make your every wish come true.
Satoru despised it. Detested the infuriating way her husband took and wasted every ounce of your attention.
You were her best friend first.
“Fine,” Suguru hissed, hesitantly pulling out of you but not before throwing Satoru a heated glare.
“I can keep your concubine company,” she smiled, blue eyes sparkling with satisfaction as Suguru unceremoniously shoved his cock back inside his pants, storming past her to go off and search for an advisor who was likely already tucked into his bed.
He would just come back for you once he figured it out.
But by then, Satoru was sure she could kill the mood enough that he wouldn’t get to have you tonight.
Not without her in the room.
“I’m sorry,” you softly apologized once he was gone, hastily pulling your dress down, embarrassed that she’d seen you so exposed.
As if it wasn’t the first time.
She was well aware of her husband’s preference for you to not wear any undergarments when he was planning on seeing you. Had walked in on the two of you in their marital bed more times than she could count.
At first, she thought it was better you than her.
Held no interest in having sex with him herself or making any heirs, no matter how much the court tried to convince her that it was necessary.
Why would she ruin her body for a man she could barely stand? Who she was forced into a political marriage with?
Lately?
She was growing tempted to just take her clothes off and offer herself up if it meant Suguru would go a single day without insisting on having sex with you. Even if she’d be resisting the urge to gag and roll her eyes at every one of his groans.
“I’ll return to my chambers, Your Majesty,” you respectfully murmured, averting your gaze with faint shame creeping into your fair features. You were trying to not make this strange or strained, smoothing out your dress as you pushed your palms off the blanket.
“How many times must I ask you to call me Toru, hm?” She teased, breaking the tension with an easy laugh.
It used to be breezy to be around you.
Before he snatched you from her grip.
Back when you were both girls growing up together, as a princess and her maid. Your delicate hands brushing her hair and working all the knots out with nimble fingers at the end of every day, chatting about the scullery gossip before Satoru would pull you into the blankets and demand that you sleep next to her.
To keep the nightmares away.
Everyone always let Satoru do what she wanted.
Except for having you.
Sure, she could drag you around, take you everywhere she went, but instead of simply being hers, you were more of an accessory.
The most you could be was a maid. A servant.
Not a lover.
Satoru tried to be content with that. Truly.
Accepted it from an early age that you weren’t going to be hers when she was destined for a political relationship and your stare often lingered a little too long on knights instead of ladies.
She told herself that at least she got to bring you along to this palace to be by her side for this marriage, but the moment Suguru saw you standing next to her, he stole you.
Made you his concubine within the week, put you in your own room and dolled you up in gowns and gems. Satoru had been sneaking blue dresses in your new closet, replacing the jewel tones and purples with the shades of the sky, of the ocean rather than the rich hues he had such a proclivity for.
But it didn’t make much of a difference when you were tending to him now instead of her.
“Toru,” you said her name so sweetly, chewing the inside of your cheek now as you reluctantly met her stare. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“You are not the one who should apologize,” she exhaled, shrugging her shoulders as she walked over to where you were sheepishly staring at the blooming flowers.
Skimming a delicate hand over your arm, appreciating the warmth of your skin as she stopped just shy of your shoulder, tracing a little heart with the edge of her thumb as she soothed you.
“Come with me,” she murmured.
Your head snapped up, your eyes wavering and wide. Unsure. “Where?”
“My room,” Satoru hummed. “Like old times.”
Back when the only hands that ever had the fortune to brush over your body were hers. When you belonged solely to Satoru.
Funnily enough, you were still sleeping in her bed. Just with her husband.
What would she have to do to keep his calloused palms off her prize?
“Are you sure Suguru will be-”
“No man would complain about two beautiful women in his sheets,” she rolled her eyes, interlocking arms with you and pulling you forward.
It wasn’t exactly true.
Suguru would have plenty to grit his teeth and groan about when he wouldn’t get the chance to put his dick inside of you.
But you were naive enough to not realize that, smiling back at Satoru the way you used to, leaning against her arm and sighing with relief, relaxing once it struck you that she wasn’t upset with you.
“I’m not nearly as beautiful as you,” you wistfully mumbled under your breath, and Satoru’s heart soared. Pale cheeks heating up at your compliment, squeezing you reflexively as she laughed.
She knew she was beautiful. Blessed by the gods in nearly every aspect from the moment she was born.
But even when they had given her a face any male would love, they had cursed her with a heart that could only belong to a female.
To you.
Had been stamped with your name and sealed to be yours from the first day she found you.
It wasn’t fucking fair that Suguru got to just reap everything she sowed.
Got to be the one inside you, on top of you, beside you. Who could just openly want you with no repercussions.
If his smug smirks and sly remarks weren’t enough for her to loathe him, Satoru still would have hated him for that fact alone.
“I think you are far lovelier than any of these lousy flowers,” Satoru spoke softly, tilting her head around the garden she’d grown to only feel disgust for too.
It had been beautiful at first. A work of art she’d taken to walking the winding paths through in the evenings to calm her chaotic mind when the two of you first came here.
But all it had taken was to walk in on Suguru mounting you on a patio table the third week in for every last petal and blossom of this place to become tainted.
He was making a fucking fool of her.
Freely flaunting how much he adored fucking you wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
No doubt she wasn’t the first to catch the two of you.
“You flatter me,” you blushed, turning away from her as you picked up the pace.
You already knew the way back to her marital room.
Even if she wasn’t the one you usually came there for.
Satoru had separate chambers, of course, ones that were made solely for her, but she knew that Suguru would retaliate in some petty fashion if she brought you there instead.
“I am merely being honest,” Satoru hummed, lips curling up in an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She knew you well enough to know you were too embarrassed to respond. That you weren’t truly taking her seriously.
Shouldn’t you know by now that the only person she saved her sincerity for was you?
“I find myself missing you more and more,” Satoru slowly added, heart thumping so hard she was sure it would somehow end up lodged in her throat as you looked back at her with those big, apologetic eyes.
Guilt-ridden.
Weighed down by the obvious worry you carried for fucking her husband.
“I miss you too,” you murmured quietly, lip curling up in your best attempt at a smile before it immediately fell again.
“You seem tired,” Satoru observed, reaching over with her free hand to brush the hair away from your face. Treasuring the few seconds her fingertips skimmed across your soft cheeks. “Let’s get some rest.”
“But Suguru-”
“Do me a favor,” she purred, offering her most reassuring grin. “Do not worry about him.”
She could deal with it.
It was worth whatever trouble would come to watch you trade your dress for one of her silky blue nightslips, staring at the bare expanse of your exposed back as you bent over to shimmy it on, holding her breath as you turned around, looking absolutely delectable.
The sweetest dessert she could ever dream of.
And the only one she wasn’t allowed to taste.
“Do you want me to do your hair?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers as you nervously looked around the room.
Satoru wished she could wipe your anxieties away.
“I would never say no to that,” she said instead, putting up a far more carefree front than she truly felt.
Perching on the edge of the stool of her vanity, passing you her hairbrush as you slowly pulled all of her long, silky white strands back over her shoulder. You took your time brushing it out, carefully separating it as you went and making sure there were no tangles before you slowly began to braid it, nimble fingers working to twist the parted hair.
She could see your reflection in the mirror, the way you bit your kiss-swollen bottom lip, brows pinched together tightly in focus as your practiced hands made an easy job of it.
“There you go,” you hummed once you finished, tying a white ribbon at the end as you looked in the mirror back at her. “Do you like it?”
“I like everything you do,” Satoru replied on instinct.
Except for Suguru.
Your face flushed, smiling as you stepped back away from her, glancing over to the bed.
“Good night then,” you muttered.
“Good night,” Satoru replied, shoving down the lump in her throat as she tried to discreetly dry her clammy palms on her own nightdress as she stood up. Snuffing out a few of the candles so that the only light was from the flickering fire, crawling into bed after you, pretending to be unaffected by your proximity as she got under the sheets next to your body.
But she wasn’t quite as good at it as she used to be.
Unable to slow her breathing, chest rising and falling far too fast as you tossed and turned, the short hem of the slip riding up on your thighs under the covers as Satoru desperately stared at the ceiling of her four-poster bed and ignored the heat ignited in her core.
A steady pulse, an irritating throb straight to the center of her, speeding up each time your leg brushed against hers, or your hand accidentally grazed along her arm.
“Sweet dreams,” she belatedly whispered, but you had already fallen asleep, soon snoring on one of her pillows like you once did so long ago, hair sprawling out that Satoru couldn’t stop herself from softly stroking.
Her pretty maid, right where she belonged once more.
But for how long?
When would Suguru do something that would fully free you of her?
God, what the fuck was she going to do if he knocked you up? Forced you to bear his heir? Make you raise a whole brood of miniature hims?
That asshole would surely move you to a separate palace, maybe claim that Satoru made threats or something equally absurd to justify giving you a title or some security.
Satoru refused to let any of that happen.
You were more than just a breeding mare.
More than just a pawn to be played with – no matter what her husband attempted to turn you into.
Like she summoned a demon, the door swung open, and Satoru immediately removed her hand from by your head, sitting up in bed to stare at the intruder.
The real interloper here.
Suguru scowled at the sight of her next to you, his lips pressing in a thin line as he peeled off his expensive robe.
“Return to your private chambers,” he dismissed, irritation heavy in his voice.
“This marital bed is mine too,” Satoru retorted, patting the spot next to her to gesture for him to join.
She’d prefer not to spend the night suffering the masculine scent of his cologne, but she supposed she could just roll closer to you to inhale your much sweeter smell. It was always light, flowery, like some intoxicating summer bloom she wanted to pluck and preserve.
He laughed at the idea of sleeping together too, a low and cruel one.
Satoru wanted to snarl back that if she were a man, if they were both vying for your hand, you would have chosen her without a blink.
But she just had to bite her tongue and stare at the one person who had everything she wanted.
“Funny that I only find you in here when it’s with her,” he knowingly scoffed.
“Is it?” Satoru feigned ignorance. “I was the one who brought her here.”
Her husband didn’t care though.
No, he just walked over as if she had no place in this room, no right to her spot in the bed beside you, stripping his shirt off before removing his pants, as if a little bit of nudity would scare Satoru off.
“What do you think our love would do if she knew you lusted after her even more than I do?” Suguru mocked, barely making an effort to disguise his thinly-veiled threat. One corner of that irritating mouth of his curling up in a crude smirk, casually dismissing the weight of her affection for you to a simple sin.
His love?
Satoru almost laughed back at him.
You were hers. Had always been.
And would be once again.
“Shall I tell her?” He asked, tilting his head towards your sleeping figure as he pulled back the blankets to get in too.
“She would think it’s just a jest,” Satoru rolled her eyes, her nose scrunching up as he actually got in next to her.
It didn’t matter how obvious she made it to you.
You were blissfully unaware.
Clueless to the hunger she harbored in her heart to chain you to her.
“I suppose we’ll find out soon,” he muttered under his breath, and despite the shield she’d prepared, it splintered with sheer panic at the thought of you taking his word.
At the risk of you being repulsed by the realization, rejecting her and refusing to exist in the same space for the rest of her life.
That wouldn’t do.
Suguru was already a persistent problem.
But now it appeared she had no choice but to solve it before he could screw her over. Before he could wreck what she’d spent so long building.
She’d prefer to prepare a guillotine for his cock, to punish him for the crime of being inside you, but she refused to be the one put in prison for it.
No, Satoru needed a plan. A foolproof way for this to end with you in her arms.
Perhaps some poison to put His Royal Majesty in a grave while she was at it.
ε✿з
“Morning, beautiful.”
You wondered who your king’s groggy morning voice was meant for. You?
Or his wife?
Your true master.
“Good morning, husband,” Satoru replied, her usually sweet voice cold and clipped.
Of course.
You weren’t exactly surprised.
But what did throw you off was the two very different arms strewn across your waist, one thick and muscled slung low towards your hips while the other far daintier one was delicately tangled just below your breasts.
Somehow, you had ended up in between them.
Rather fitting, wasn’t it?
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Suguru scolded her, and your stomach just curdled at the annoyance in his tone.
The weight on your midsection disappeared, and you tried to roll on your side, to pretend you were still asleep, but then he was pulling you against him, and you could only bite the inside of your cheek and focus on the taste of blood on your tongue to hold it together as something hefty and hard pressed into your spine.
It was just wrong to do this in front of Satoru.
You didn’t understand what Suguru saw in you anyway.
It wasn’t like you truly were stunning. Not compared to her.
You weren’t blind.
You’d always been rather plain put next to Satoru’s perfect face.
She was the one people stopped to stare at when she walked in a room, the subject of whispers and wishes and fools willing fate to just give them a single chance for the pleasure of one conversation in her presence.
And beneath her beauty was the sort of one-of-a-kind soul someone could spend the rest of their life searching for.
Even now, when you were sleeping with her husband, she was still being sweet to you.
Swearing that she knew you couldn’t do anything about being his concubine, bringing you back to her bed for a sleepover like she hadn’t caught you having sex with him.
You didn’t deserve her. And you really couldn’t comprehend why Suguru wouldn’t want her.
Yet, she always tried to spare your feelings.
Sent away any maid who mocked you and scolded any staff member that attempted to tease you ever since you were children.
Going from dismissing any knight that tried to flirt or feel you up as teenagers to stripping some lower noble of her rank simply for speaking ill of you two weeks ago over suggesting that she should punish you for trying to steal her husband.
You hadn’t asked for any of it.
All you wanted was to watch her fall in love. To stand by her side and see her find her happily ever after.
Instead, you were embroiled in an affair with the man she married.
And now the guilt was gnawing through your bones, shame shattering you every time she saw you with him.
You sort of felt like your life could be divided in two groups.
Before Satoru. After Satoru.
She saved you. You were born into servitude, to parents who worked in the worst kind of noble homes. The ones where the money was passed down with generations, belonging to spoiled gamblers and drunks who didn’t know how to do anything other than spend it — and couldn’t care less about their staff members.
You learned how to scrub baseboards and sweep instead of how to read and write. To never speak unless spoken to. To make yourself smaller than a speck of dust just to survive.
It didn’t matter.
They had a son a year older than you.
One that was particularly fond of pulling your hair and ripping up your uniforms every time you hung them out to dry.
Who found a passion in pushing you down and pretending to his family that you had committed every variety of petty crimes against him.
Your life was a living hell.
Until your angel showed up.
In a pretty white dress that matched her soft hair, the sun shining on her pale face as she blinked down at you with big, blue eyes. She was visiting with her parents, supposed to be attending a play date with your personal tormentor, only to walk in on him attempting to cut off a chunk of your hair with a knife he’d stolen from the chef.
He had accidentally cut you with it, a thin streak of blood trickling down your throat as you sobbed hysterically, unable to stop yourself as you curled up against the tree he cornered you against.
“Drop that,” she commanded, an air of authority to her even when she was still a child.
He did, even though his obedience seemed to surprise him.
“You’re not the boss of-”
She was already stepping forward though, kicking the knife away before graciously approaching you, unbothered by the sniffing mess you’d become, just squatting down and drying your tears with her sleeve.
“You’re coming home with me.”
And you did.
She had half-dragged you inside, forcing herself to fake tears of her own before crying to her parents that he had attacked her, and that you’d gotten hurt defending her.
They believed her lie.
And she bought you from the hellhole you were born into.
You would probably be dead without her.
Starved or beaten for not performing your duties well enough, discarded like some cheap possession instead of a person.
The boy was punished, his family’s status revoked — although you never learned what happened to them after that.
At least with Satoru, you could be her doll.
Someone she dressed up and dragged around to tea parties and meals, forcing everyone to have a chair for you like it was normal for a mere maid to dine with royalty.
She grew out of it when she got a little older, when people began to look down on you for her behavior instead of her.
But when they announced her marriage, she still refused to go unless she brought you with her, insisting that she wouldn’t adapt without a familiar face before whispering to you in private that she’d never leave her favorite friend behind.
Did she regret that now? Wish she never took you in to begin with?
You felt like a nuisance.
It was impossible to ignore the whispers of the court here, the constant discussion of the heir that didn’t currently exist.
All of it felt like your fault.
Surely, if you weren’t here, if you weren’t imposing, then Satoru might have already gotten pregnant, or perhaps have even had a child already.
As far as you knew, they had yet to even consummate their marriage.
You used to whisper about what it would be like to have sex. So sure that she would be the one to experience it first. Giggling under the covers about how the whole thing seemed sorta gross. To let a guy stick it inside of you and listen to him grunt and groan?
Honestly, you never thought it would be you giving up your virtue before her.
Sugugu hadn’t been shy about the fact you were the only one he was intimate with.
Turning his nose up and scoffing when you inquired about the status of their relationship, the same way Satoru did, as if it was simply absurd that they could ever have a baby together.
And now his royal advisors had started whispering suggestions that he should plant his seed in you instead, murmuring that if Satoru was too stubborn, he must secure his line another way as if you weren’t in the same room when they said it.
As if your loyalty hadn’t always lied with her.
But she wouldn’t listen to your warnings.
How were you supposed to convince two people who acted like they couldn’t stand each other to not only have sex, but create a child?
You knew you were a fool. Naive to still presume that there must be some way to make this work without making Satoru suffer. But you couldn’t stop trying.
“I would like you to leave,” Suguru snapped at her, and years of experience had engrained the instant impulse to protect her in you.
To interrupt and insist that she had every right to be here too.
Even if Satoru had never once needed you to defend her. Not the same way you needed her.
“Will you drag me out if I do not?” She cheekily returned, and you finally forced yourself to start to stir, to stop the argument already in progress as they both immediately fell silent. Satoru’s soft hand skimmed over your forearm, delicately dragging her fingertips up to your shoulder before yawning, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Morning,” you muttered, slowly cracking your eyes open and beginning to sit up just for a second hand to shift to the small of your back.
“Did she bother you with all her tossing and turning?” Your king asked, concern veiling his contempt for his wife as he peered down at you with those dark purple eyes. Devoid of the light you were used to seeking, swirling with something you weren’t quite comfortable enough to name.
Sometimes, you wondered how much he wanted you, and how much he wanted to piss her off. Equally unhappy at the situation he’d been thrusted in, forced to marry a stranger he didn’t know or want and finding refuge in pissing off the one person that was also innocent in this. Taking it out on her instead when he had no way to punish the system he was stuck in.
“Satoru never bothers me,” you answered honestly, still doing your best to mend the bridge between them as you peered up at him with an expression you hoped would earn some empathy from him.
Or at the very least, get him to not toss her out before she even stepped foot out of the bed.
“You’re too sweet,” he muttered, sitting up straighter to let the blankets fall down around his bare waist. Tenderly caressing your cheek as you stilled, thinking of what he seemed to leave unsaid. Too sweet for whom? Him? Or her?
You supposed you were just overthinking it, blinking nervously before he leaned down to kiss you on the lips right there in front of her, pushing his tongue in as you tried not to scrunch your nose up at the thought that he had yet to brush his teeth before slipping his tongue in your mouth.
But you returned it, accustomed to going with the tides instead of swimming against them, allowing him to possessively splay his fingers across your back as if Satoru’s fingers weren’t still sinking into your shoulder.
And by the time he pulled away, you had collected yourself enough to smile sincerely back at him when he rested his forehead against yours.
It wasn’t that you disliked him, or harbored any hatred for him.
The feeling swirling in your stomach was closer to pity. You felt bad for him.
He felt like a flip side to Satoru. Reminded you of her in his own strange way when he spoke to you like you were more than just a maid. Even if he only saw you as his own accessory instead of hers.
“Meet me in the gardens at noon,” he instructed, slipping out of his bed as you both stared. His back muscles flexed as he bent over, only throwing a look back to wink at you while Satoru made a quiet gagging noise next to you.
You nearly giggled, only holding it in when his dark brows pinched together in a glare back at her.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” you murmured, nodding dutifully as his chest puffed back out with pride. Finishing redressing quickly, his mouth twitching down at the two of you in his bed, but he didn’t say anything to disprove Satoru’s theory about men and beautiful women.
“Alone,” Suguru added, starting towards the door before Satoru could add something snarky.
The moment he was out the door, you could hear his voice calling through it for a servant, and you already pictured the way a few were likely stationed at the end of the hall, ready to accompany him and do whatever he wanted.
“Meet me in the gardens,” Satoru mimicked him, rolling her bright blue eyes as her long lashes fluttered dramatically as she twisted you back around to face her. “He’s so insufferable.”
“Satoru,” you said her name, face heating up at the way the syllables felt rolling off your tongue, still strange to address her so intimately when she was so far above you. “It worries me-”
“No,” she interrupted you sternly, your shoulders slumping at her unexpected scolding. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”
“But the two of you-”
“I know,” she sympathized, knowing what you were about to protest before you had to say it. Seeing through all of you the way no one else ever did, or probably ever would. “But you should just keep doing what he asks.”
Like you couldn’t see how much it hurt her to even suggest that.
Satoru was more sensitive than she’d ever show. Feelings hidden under her carefully crafted shield, always pretending to be the perfect princess on her towering pedestal, protected by some impenetrable glass that never let you touch her.
She could say she couldn’t stand Suguru. But who wouldn’t be hurt at the man they married so blatantly disrespecting them?
“I just want you to be happy,” you softly said.
“I will be. Eventually,” Satoru stiffly said, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip like she was wiping off his kiss. “We just have to grin and bear it for now.”
“And things will get better?” You hopefully asked, reaching up to clasp her hand. Feeling a little bit like a child again, looking up to her with blind trust, faith that she could fix problems that seemed far too big for you. Imagining all three of you a few months from now, getting along and grinning over lunch in the garden, sitting underneath the shade of an umbrella and snacking with Satoru on one side and Suguru on the other.
“I promise they will.”
There was nothing you craved more than for her to be correct.
But your blind belief in her started to fizzle and fade when the days refused to stop dragging on while you rarely got to see her. Only catching glimpses of her from across the room, usually when one of you was being flaunted on Suguru’s arm and the other was left to stand on the side and stare. Barely getting a chance to speak to her when the king you were both supposed to obey had decided you were better kept in your bed chambers or his private office, away from the wife he pretended didn’t exist around you.
You tried to tell yourself what she had.
To just bear it.
Comforting yourself with the handful of smiles she snuck you, reassuring yourself that you didn’t have to be wracked with guilt every second you spent with Suguru. That you shouldn’t hate yourself for the moments with him where you found yourself actually enjoying his company, or genuinely giggling at a joke he made.
It didn’t make it easier to stop loathing the parts of you that liked the attention. Being doted on and deemed deserving of more than just the monotony of being a maid.
Underneath it all, you still knew what was coming.
A girl like you was only measured by what uses she was good for.
Could taste his expectation in the air long before Suguru delivered the curdling news over tea, sitting there like a brainless doll as he informed you that he had the maids brew the kind that helped fertility.
Casually suggesting that you make a fine mother as you feigned agreement, running off to a bush to throw it up the moment he left to attend to other business.
You couldn’t do that to her.
No, you wouldn’t.
You refused.
It wasn’t like you had any idea how you would refuse, not when you were sure he would be back in your bedroom tonight. Stripping off his robes with that easy smirk of his, placing his crown on your head as he buried his cock in you, probably already planning on no longer pulling out but plunging himself deep enough to make sure the seed he planted was sowed.
That it would sprout into an heir he could use as an excuse to remove any power his wife politically held.
You puked again.
Bile rising that you couldn’t push down, getting sick until you finally managed to suck in enough deep breaths to pull yourself together, wiping the corner of your mouth and standing back up on trembling legs, looking around to make sure no one had seen you.
But a few maids were standing nearby, wide-eyed and whispering to each other before scampering off in a hurry once your stare caught theirs, surely off to spread rumors about what they’d seen.
You were stumbling away too, walking back inside the cobbled halls and hurrying through the twists and turns, ignoring the pointed looks you received from staff members and guards passing by. You weren’t sure where you were going until you were there, nervously tapping your knuckles against the door to Satoru’s office, hardly able to keep your breathing steady until you heard her call out in an annoyed tone, “Come in.”
You pushed it open, holding your breath as you peeked inside to see her head hanging down behind her desk. Her cheek resting on her hand, silky hair falling around her shoulders as she sighed and scribbled something into a thick book.
“What is it-”
“I’m sorry,” you half-whispered, your voice coming out as a croak from your sore throat.
She immediately stopped what she was writing as her head snapped up at the realization it was you, shutting the book and placing her palm over it. Her blue eyes were razor sharp, freezing over in a flash under furrowed brows.
“What happened?” She demanded to know without a pause. Ready to go to war with just two words.
“He wants me to have his heir,” you blurted out, still panicking as you looked to her like there was something she could do about it.
In all the years you’d known her, the only other time you’d seen the expression that was on her face now was the day you first met her.
Focused and flat at the same time, not betraying anything as she just blinked at you once more.
“Tell me you don’t want it,” she requested, completely serious as you struggled to tear your stare away.
“Of course I don’t,” you answered, shaking your head as your fingers nervously clutched at the skirt of your dress, fiddling with some of the fine embroidery as you struggled to catch your breath, the taste of vomit lingering in your mouth as you thought about what your life would look like a year from now if you did. A black-haired baby on your hip and a hole punctured straight through your heart.
You almost added that you had only come here for her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to when all that had resulted in was you warming her husband’s bed.
What would her life have been like had you stayed behind? Would you have been kicked out of the palace you’d spent years by her side in? Left to start over in some quaint village, maybe starting a small farm or working in a local shop instead?
You would choose any of it over being the reason she was suffering. Even if it meant struggling and scraping by all alone.
“I will take care of it,” she stiffly said, her nose upturned in the air as she pushed a plate of cookies someone had left on her desk away from her. “You should go now.”
A piece of you shattered.
Some deep internal wound ripping open at her quick dismissal, despite your instinct to believe that her words were more binding than any oath.
“But-”
“Trust me, princess,” she softened her tone, smiling now, like you couldn’t see how tight of a line her mouth made. Using a nickname she hadn’t called you in years, back when she tried to make you feel better about the difference in your status, late night promises that you could be her princess and she could be yours.
“Toru,” you murmured back, watching her eyes crinkle for a second before she shook her hair and pointed a delicate finger towards the door.
“Please leave,” she asked, and you had never been good at disobeying her.
Feeling like a mutt that had been thrown out in the rain, tail tucked between your legs as you walked all the way across the palace to your own chambers. Pacing the floor there in a panic, wringing your hands and wearing out the carpet as you tried to think of some solution.
Stupid nobles and their moronic obsession with bloodlines.
Why couldn’t they just adopt a child and raise it correctly?
You would have his child if Satoru asked you to. If she said she didn’t want to do it herself.
But you were scared for her. Terrified that she would somehow end up thrown out if you had an heir and she refused to.
Maybe it would be easier if one of them were less stubborn. If Satoru was less prideful and Suguru more agreeable.
Was that asking for the impossible?
Just an idiot jammed between a rock and a hard place and wondering why you couldn’t squeeze out?
You prepared yourself that evening anyway, going through the motions of putting on the thin style nightdress Suguru preferred, but picking one in a soft shade of blue that reminded you more of Satoru. Carefully applying a thin layer of makeup, exhaling at your reflection as you wondered to yourself where the girl from a few years ago had gone.
She probably would have strangled you for suggesting sleeping with Satoru’s king, no matter the circumstance.
And right now, you would give just about anything to go back to those days. Where the most important thing you had to worry about was how to style Satoru’s hair the next day, or what would be served for breakfast in the morning.
“You’re wearing blue.”
Your head turned to find Suguru standing there in the doorway, his lips turned down as his hazy stare slid over your body. You hurried to stand, forgoing spritzing the fancy perfume he gifted you across your skin as he strode over to you. Ready to fake moans and feign devotion.
“Is this not one you gave me?” You innocently asked, tilting your head to the side.
It wasn’t like you could purchase your own dresses.
Truthfully, you had no idea what even happened to the funds you saved up before Satoru brought you here. She had said she would take care of the transfer, but within days of coming here, you were being whisked off your feet and away from her by the man in front of you now.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his fingers plucking one of the straps off your shoulder and pulling it down with a sigh as he ignored your inquiry. “I’m taking it off of you anyway.”
His hands shook while he removed it, his fingers unsteady for once as he tried to shimmy your panties down your thighs next. He kissed you, but the sour taste of wine was still on his lips, and you ached to pull away.
To ask him to reconsider what he wanted from you.
Even if you knew that wasn’t your place.
To your surprise though, he retreated first, your mouth still hanging open as he let out a low groan. You knew something was wrong at the sound of it. How guttural it came out when you hadn’t even touched his cock yet.
You blinked up at him only to see red.
Blood dripped down his lips as he stared at you without really seeing you, fear glittering his dark eyes empty in the candlelight as your own fingers reached out to wipe it away. Had you bitten him without realizing it? Was he hurt?
Before you could even touch it, he coughed hard, and your face was suddenly wet.
Your hand was still outstretching towards him the moment he collapsed.
Someone screamed, but it wasn’t until servants began running into the room that you realized the horrible sound was coming from you, ripped from the back of your throat as the scene immediately morphed into a mess. Maids shouting for doctors and rushing around to try and stop the bleeding that was still pouring from his mouth, propping him up. But even if his eyes were open, they weren’t blinking.
Had his soul already separated from the still shell he left behind?
Something damp hit your palm, your fuzzy vision struggling to focus as it belatedly struck you that you were still dripping with the red, your palms shaking, refusing to stop twitching at the unnerving sight of it.
Steady drops begging to drop down to your bare breasts, staining your skin as you stumbled back, running from the inevitable as your shattered gasps wouldn’t allow enough air into your lungs.
This wasn’t happening.
It couldn’t be.
This must be a nightmare. Some awful dream you’d gotten dragged into as you tried to wake yourself back up, desperately wiping your face as you struggled to get it clean, but nothing was working. Nothing was changing.
Hyperventilating as a maid shouted, calling in guards while your back hit the wall, your fingers trembling as you buried your face in your hands, as if you could hide from what was happening.
“Is he still alive?”
No. No no no.
If he was gone, what the hell would happen to you?
There were too many people in the room, too much going on for you to focus on what was happening in front of you. Your ears filling you in no matter how much you desperately wanted to shut it all out.
To rewind the clock, even if it was just for a few minutes. Bring it back to where everything was still normal.
The palace doctor arrived out of breath as you peeked back up at your world unraveling only to find him shaking his head as he checked the limp body on the floor’s pulse.
You knew it before he said it though. Had from the moment he coughed and collapsed.
“The king is dead.”
The only person in power now was his wife.
Someone was probably on their way to get Satoru now, to shake her awake from her bed and notify her that her husband was no longer among the living.
Even if you didn’t want to have his baby, you still never would have chosen this.
Curling up with your bare knees to your chest, staring at your blood-splattered blue nightdress left in a crumpled pile on the floor, eyes wild as you watched people rush in and out.
Guards filing in, one of them ripping you up from off the ground with a rough grip on your arm, barking some question you didn’t understand as you tried to shake your head, dragging you out of the room as you got one last glimpse at Suguru’s still form staring up at the ceiling.
“Did you do this?”
“What?” You blinked, turning back with disgust as you rebuffed it. “I-I wouldn’t-”
The guard wasn’t listening, pulling you out only for you to nearly run into someone else.
Your pounding heart stopped the second you realized it was Satoru.
Her pretty face pinched up with disdain, long hair loose and cascading down her back, an intricate amethyst-colored gown draping over the cobbled hall as she looked down at you, her mouth twitching as her gaze drifted across your exposed skin.
You were about to beg her to tell them that it couldn’t have been you, bottom lip trembling as you tried to get the words out, but she cut you off, looking to the knight by her side as she solemnly shook her head.
“Lock her up.”
She couldn’t mean it.
It honestly felt more far-fetched than Suguru’s sudden death. Unable to understand those three sharp words that left her lips until another man was yanking you away, pulling you down corridors.
Humiliation burned through you as the initial shock started to fade and the reality of your situation began to sit in. Being dragged naked across the palace until you were led up a long spiralling staircase to a tower you’d never stepped foot inside before.
Spared the cruelty of the cold dungeons only to be shoved inside a tiny room at the top, a heavy door slammed shut as your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. A barren space with only a small bed pushed against the wall, a small window that was only big enough for you to peek out of, the bitter night breeze blowing in through it as you stood there, waiting for, well, you weren’t sure what.
Satoru to show up and swear this was all some awful joke? To tell you that she didn’t mean to scare you and that everything was fine? That this was all a part of some plan of hers?
Wishful thinking, wasn’t it?
If they thought you were responsible, that you somehow killed him, you would be executed within a month.
Maybe not even offered a trial, just dragged out to be hanged or beheaded without a chance to defend yourself.
Who would have sympathy for a traitor?
A poor maid masquerading as a concubine, one who truly should have never had a place beneath the king to begin with.
All you were was an ignorant idiot that was born to take the blame. No matter your innocence.
And yet, when you finally heard footsteps approaching your lonely room, you were still rushing towards it, ready to plead your case to whoever showed up.
When you heard Satoru’s voice, you nearly sobbed.
She must be coming to let you out. To explain everything away and bring you back to her room the way she once had. Whisk you away and remind you with that charming smile that she had told you not to worry.
Satoru wasn’t your knight in shining armor. She was better.
A hero with her white-haired halo, your blue-eyed angel in a gossamer gown.
“Toru, please,” you called out, peeking up to discover a rectangle carved out of the thick wood of the door, wide enough for you to look back out into the barely-lit hallway.
“Make sure no one comes up here,” Satoru coldly instructed the knights outside, your heart stalling as you stared at her through that thin slat. The heavy click of several additional locks followed while her sharp eyes watched you back, your heart shattering into even tinier bits with each one.
And then Satoru did something that stomped on all the remaining shards of it.
She left.
You broke down, sobbing on the floor until there wasn’t anything left in you to cry out. Curling up on the frigid ground instead of the bed, unable to even summon the strength to get up and crawl towards it.
At some point, you supposed you fell asleep like that, because when you woke up to a fraction of the sun slipping in through your tiny window, there were clothes and food delivered, along with a cold bucket of water and a washrag.
Too numb to feel thankful, as if someone had scooped every part of you out as you ignored the food in front of you, about to cup a handful of water and drink it before you looked down at your hands and saw all the dried blood still staining them, your stomach shifting once again as the memory of Suguru’s face before he died floated up in your brain.
You scrubbed your skin, washing Suguru off of you until the bucket had run red, staring at the liquid sloshing around. Refusing to stop until you were certain there were no traces of him left, your hands raw and trembling when you dropped the rag back down.
Putting clothes back on didn’t make you feel any better.
Not when you had traded the fancy dresses you had just begun to get used to for a plain one, the material scratching your skin as you finally managed to get yourself up into the bed.
But even just trying to go back to sleep didn’t work when a knight came barging in to conduct an interrogation.
Which essentially just meant hours of him asking the same questions and getting angry when you kept giving him the same answers?
“Did you conspire to kill the king?” No.
“Did you poison him?” No.
“Did you have any reason to want him dead?” Yes. No.
It didn’t matter what you said though.
As long as it didn’t align with what he was hoping to hear, he wouldn’t give any of your words credence.
And by the end of it, you were being dragged back to your cell, waiting for a fate far worse than simply being the mother of the future heir to the kingdom.
Even if you used to think there was nothing worse than betraying Satoru.
Being abandoned by her was the cruelest sentence of all.
A raw throbbing ache taking up residence in your chest, reminding you of her absence with every short breath you sucked in, no blankets to curl up and hide under as you waited for the inevitable.
You knew what the cold felt like. How brittle it could be when it settled into your bones. Knew how starvation felt when your body started to break down bits of yourself for sustenance.
But knowing her warmth, how full she could make you feel, only ate at you more. Shoved off the pretty pedestal she placed you on, no longer sparkling or polished as you stared at your bitten-down nails and numbly craved pieces of her you knew would never be yours.
Perhaps this was punishment for dreaming too big.
For ever thinking that you could have her while you were still catering to Suguru.
A day passed.
And another.
The hours slipping past you in a dull daze, food delivered that you refused to take a bite of. A little voice in your head that was quickly growing delirious suggested that it could be poisoned, and it was the only thing that tempted you into taking a small bite.
But then you thought of the fear in Suguru’s eyes when he died, and you dropped it again, returning to your uncomfortable bed, curling up to stare at the same wall you’d been studying the cracks in since you first crawled into it.
You were losing it.
About to start speaking to yourself just to stop the silence from driving you crazy, only your thoughts to keep you company as you tossed and turned, no energy left in your exhausted limbs as you tried to think of all the ways this could end.
Unable to come up with a way out of this when the only person you ever found worth living for had decided you weren’t worth it anymore.
Satoru had told you to trust her.
But you never had anything to offer her other than loyalty.
And what good was that when you would’ve had her husband’s baby if he hadn’t died?
She must hate you.
“Oh, princess.”
Great.
You had lost it.
Were you hearing things now? Sanity slipping away with every day you decided not to eat?
“Won’t you at least look at me?” Satoru’s sweet voice called out to you.
You weren't going to, stubbornly keeping your head forward until you heard the locks actually unlatching. Sitting up on the thin mattress and turning just in time to see the door opening, and your angel returning to you.
An easy smile curling up on her glossy lips, her ethereal eyes sparkling in the fading light of the day drifting in from outside, a white dress softly fluttering around her frame as she leaned against the wall like she was waiting for you to get down on your knees and thank her.
“I didn’t do it,” you breathed, almost automatically.
You needed her to believe-
“Sweetheart,” she softly shook her head as she sighed. “I know.”
Then why did she throw you in a tower and lock you up like this? Leave you a broken mess, laid bare and bloody?
“I just had to take care of a few things,” Satoru cooed.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Unable to speak when you stared at her, feeling like a stranger in your own skin as you studied her back.
“Did you think I would just let you rot?” She teased, as if you weren’t still a prisoner while she tilted her head to the side, appraising you like you were some fruit she had finally decided to pluck.
It hurt.
A small wound ripping open beneath the surface, one you were quick to bandage up and come up with excuses for.
Almost immediately telling yourself that surely, she came to you as soon as she could, relief washing over the fresh sting at the realization she truly didn’t think you were behind Suguru’s death. That she hadn’t abandoned you after all.
“Don’t just sit there and stare at me,” she huffed, sick of your silence, folding her arms across her chest and frowning at you.
“Toru?” You croaked out her name, wanting to trust that it still had a place on your lips as you waited for her to disappear. Standing up on unsteady legs, muscles sore from how little you’d used them lately as you took unsure steps forward. A piece of you still convinced that you might be imagining this, or drifted off to some pretty dream where she played the same role she always did.
Your savior.
But when you got to her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face, your fingertips trembling as you touched her cheek to discover it was solid.
Soft.
“I missed you too,” she murmured affectionately, reaching up to hold your hand there. Relaxing into your touch as you felt something inside you instantly crumble at the tiniest show of regard.
And before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around her neck, tears welling up as you inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume, burying your face in her throat as a rough sob escaped you.
She let you.
Didn’t push you off or give you that look like you had overstepped some boundary.
No, she just slid a hand over your back, holding you closer and letting you cry into her collarbone. Stroking your hair, slowly picking out the tangles and knots in it as your body shuddered with the force of your tears.
You didn’t think you had anything left in you to cry.
But apparently there you weren’t dried out yet, and she held you through all of it. Murmuring soft words into your ear, coaxing you to calm down as you struggled to piece yourself back together after you let it all fall apart.
“I swear, I would never do anything that could put you at risk,” you added, anxiety still swirling around your thoughts as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry,” Satoru purred, squeezing you as another shudder wracked through your body. “The right person will be imprisoned soon.”
As terrible as it sounded, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care who had done it, or even why, as long as it meant you and Satoru would be safe.
The rest was just noise.
You could go back to being her maid. Waiting on her hand and foot if it meant you wouldn’t have to be away from her side again.
And if the court tried to take her crown, or shipped her back to her own palace after the rightful king had been killed, well, you both could get through it together, couldn’t you?
“I thought you left me,” you mumbled, your voice cracking as she tenderly hummed your name.
“I would never,” she swore, petting your head as she pulled you into her chest, your shoulders slumping at how tightly she held you.
“Promise?” You hopefully asked, needing to know. Needing her to say she wasn’t going anywhere.
Simply needing her.
“I promise.”
You believed her with just two words.
Under her spell in a handful of moments, your heart pounding in your chest when she eventually pulled away, cupping your face and wiping away your tears like it hurt for her to see you crying.
“Come with me,” she spoke slowly, her thumb skimming lightly over your cheekbone.
You would follow her anywhere.
Across the kingdom. To another, or even over the sea to some small countryside village. Any place was fine.
As long as she wanted you there.
Skipping down the long stairs after her, your pulse thrumming in your eardrums as you waited to get stopped by some guard, for a knight to pop up and point a sword at you for absconding with their queen.
No one else was around however, the halls barren and silent as her soft fingers interlaced through yours, tugging you ahead as she navigated through them with ease.
“Were you starving yourself for my attention?” She half-whispered, her voice hushed and husky as she threw you a look you didn’t understand.
Was she disappointed in you?
“I haven’t been hungry,” you mumbled, shaking your head. You never thought she’d come check on you. Or even be keeping tabs through whoever came to drop off the food for you.
“That’s no excuse,” she softly scolded you.
“I’m sorry,” you automatically apologized, hanging your head lower as she opened a door and ushered you into a room you’d never been in before.
It looked like it was actually fit for a princess.
Ornately designed and filled with expensive furniture you couldn’t fathom the cost of, your body freezing just two short steps inside as she shut the door behind you. Quickly making herself comfortable, slipping off her short heels and walking over to the massive bed against one wall, looking back at you with barely concealed excitement, searching your face to see if you shared
“You can stay here for now,” she whispered, winking at you as she ran her palm over the soft fabric of the blankets adorning the bed. “It’ll be our secret.”
Your secret.
The words echoed in your head, unable to shut your open mouth as you struggled to take your eyes off of her.
“Much better than that dingy tower, hm?” Satoru goaded, pride glittering in her brilliant stare.
“What is this?” You asked, looking around at the intricate tapestries hung on the walls, the plush carpets laid over the floor, the carvings into the wooden dressers and the canopy of the bed.
“Your room,” she happily hummed.
“My-” You couldn’t even say it out loud.
It had to be a joke.
“There’s a warm bath waiting for you,” she murmured, nodding towards an adjoining door you’d been too overwhelmed to notice before. “And some fresh fruit on a platter by the tub. Your favorites.”
What were you meant to make of this?
Her belated apology for locking you up for days? For leaving you behind to handle affairs far bigger than you?
Something itched at the back of your conscience, telling you to second guess this gift.
But how were you supposed to listen to your better judgement when everything left of your sensibility had been broken?
“Please eat something,” she added, and all you could do was nod your head like a moron.
“I will,” you dutifully answered.
Who were you to disobey your queen?
“Do you need help getting out of that?” She asked, glancing towards your dress, nose wrinkling at the dirt on it before she dusted herself off like perhaps you’d gotten her filthy too.
“No, I can do it,” you insisted, slipping into the bathroom before you could somehow end up even more self-conscious.
But your muscles were already aching for relief, a throbbing pain beginning in your shoulder when you lifted your dress up and over your head.
One that was thankfully soothed by the still warm water in the tub, a welcome relief to the frigid water buckets you’d been sticking using the last few days. Flower petals floating on the surface, bath salts mixed in as you sank yourself in neck-deep.
True to her word, there was a platter of food set up by the tub, and you forced yourself to take a few bites, nibbling on just enough to satisfy her request.
Satoru was trying to take care of you.
Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
Offering your shoulder for her to cry or cling to after her husband died horrifically?
Of course, you knew she didn’t like him. Or well, more accurately, she loathed him. But his passing put her in a precarious position, her own life most likely hanging in the balance when she had no heir to guarantee her safety or status here.
You didn’t know what she was going to do.
Which also meant you had no idea what you were going to do.
A piece of you wished you were born a man. That you’d been given the chance or opportunity to learn swordsmanship, or got to train with the knights. That you would be able to protect Satoru, shield her from these petty and cruel court politics instead of getting caught in the crossfire.
Washing yourself of the last few days did not help quell your feelings of inadequacy, or solve a single one of your problems, no matter how soothing it was to soak and scrub yourself clean properly this time.
You didn’t linger in the tub.
No matter how much you might have liked to, a far greater part of you longed to be around Satoru. Craving her company after you’d been deprived of her presence for so long. You wanted to curl up in her lap like you used to, back when you were children and she’d be the one to comfort you over every skinned knee and scraped elbow.
Stepping out of the tub with a heavy sigh, squinting when you discovered something wasn’t quite right.
“Toru?” You called out, glancing around the small room searching for something that was evidently forgotten. “There’s no towel.”
Or change of clothes.
Nothing but your discarded dress from before to cover up, although you weren’t exactly inclined to pick it back up.
You thought she’d just open the door and toss something to put on.
Not just swing the door open and saunter in a second later, not even blinking as her eyes swept over your bare form. Lingering on the swell of your breasts and the way the water droplets were still rolling down between them.
“The maid must have forgotten,” she hummed, dragging her stare off of you to do a courtesy sweep of the room. “Give me a moment.”
You were overthinking it.
Nodding obediently as you glanced down at your legs, shuffling on your feet as heat rose to your cheeks, thankful for the soft thud of the door shutting.
She returned a couple minutes later, a towel in one arm and a white gown that looked an awful lot like a short version of her own in the other, passing both to you with that practiced smile of hers she usually saved for when she was up to something.
“There you go,” Satoru chirped. “I’ll wait for you.”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen you naked before.
But this felt decidedly different.
And you didn’t know what to do about the strange fluttering in your stomach at the idea of her watching you dress, at the way her eyes had drifted so dangerously slowly over the shape of you.
Was this a dream?
Were you still asleep? Still stuck in that tower?
Wishing for something you had never once been able to admit to yourself that you wanted?
You took an extra few minutes to dry off, adjusting the way the dress hung over you five times too many before you paused to brush your teeth in the mirror, avoiding your reflection as you spit in the sink, watching the tinged pink drool disappear with a soft exhale.
Satoru was pristine. Pure.
And what were you?
You opened the door, fiddling with the hem of the dress she’d given you as you nearly ran straight into where she was waiting right outside of it.
“I was getting worried,” she lightly joked, and you were brushing past her, a painful surge of panic bubbling back up.
“Why are you doing this for me?” You asked, hyper aware of how undeserving you were as you padded barefoot back into the overwhelmingly lovely room. “It’s too much, I-”
“You should know by now that nothing is too much for me when it comes to you,” Satoru chided with a soft chuckle. Refusing to let you step away from her, grabbing your wrist before you could slip away.
She was so close.
That familiar scent of her lulling you back in, daring you to breathe her in again.
And god, you wanted to.
Satoru said your name, and before you knew what you were doing, you were leaning up on your tip toes and pressing your lips to hers, impulsively planting a kiss to her strawberry-flavored mouth.
You knew within half a second that you shouldn’t have done it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, deepening it as your fingertips tenderly grazed her impossibly perfect skin. It took every ounce of self restraint for you to pull away from her, shaking your head as you tried not to cry at the thought you would never get to do that again.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, immediately wishing you could take it back, sure that she would throw you back in the tower for the crime of presuming you could possibly deserve anything as sweet as her lips. “I shouldn’t have-”
But before you could so much as finish your sentence, Satoru was cupping your face and pulling you back in, her nose nestling against yours as her blue eyes sparkled with something you’d never seen in them before.
“Do it again.”
ε✿з
You were kissing her.
For a moment, Satoru was sure she had died and this was heaven.
How often had she scrawled into diaries her deepest dreams of getting to experience the taste of you on her tongue?
Your gentle hands on her face and your heaving chest pressed against hers, lips slipping between her own with desperate affection.
You. Desperate. For her.
Her brain only conjuring her small words and short sentences, too overwhelmed by the sensation of your soft mouth to think straight.
God, you tasted so good.
Fruity and sweet at the same time, your delicate fingers sifting through her hair as you let out the quietest squeak Satoru immediately wanted to hear over and over, sure she’d never get sick of the sound.
And behind the lovestruck haze, a jealous voice scoffed that she should’ve killed Suguru far sooner for getting to taste you like this first.
Slipped the poison in his cup the moment he set his sights on you and made his intent to steal you clear.
Of course, cleaning it up would’ve been much messier, but red hot jealousy coiled and cut through all her cold logic when she thought of his massive mitts manhandling you instead of treating you like the rare flower you really were.
Satoru was the one who spent her life watering you, taking care to tend to the soil and fertilize it, making sure you’d bloom so beautifully for her, and he tried to rip your roots out like you wouldn’t just wither away without her.
“Satoru,” you whispered her name, sucking in a sharp breath as you pulled back, eyes shining with surprise.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” she swallowed hard, spit pooling in the back of her mouth.
From the day you looked up at her like some wounded lamb, you had been hers.
Perhaps it had just taken a little separation for you to see that too.
“You were waiting for me?” You repeated, that dazed, dreamy look in your eyes as you looked up at her, as if you thought she was going to change her mind.
“My heart has always been yours,” she proclaimed, although the confession she used to imagine came out far more shaky than it had in her head. Not nearly as cool or collected or calm as she pictured when your cheek was so warm beneath her palm.
Praying that you wouldn’t change your mind now that she had no way to take back the words.
“But I’m-” You were about to put yourself down. To diminish the light inside you that she loved so much.
“You’re mine.”
And no one else’s now.
Before you could protest, claim something silly about the difference in your status, she was pulling you back onto the bed, your form landing on top of hers as the feathered mattress cushioned the fall. You tried to wiggle back, but Satoru simply gripped your waist, refusing to let you budge as she pushed her bottom lip out in a pout you immediately softened for.
“Say it for me,” she requested.
“I have always belonged to you,” you acquiesced, and Satoru wanted to bury herself inside of your heart to make sure there really was no space for anyone else inside of it.
That it was wholly hers the way you already occupied every nook and crevice of her body and brain.
She was craning her neck up to kiss you again, your mouth meeting hers a little slower, more hesitation creeping in as your body began to melt against her. A possessive hand sliding up your spine, already annoyed at the fabric separating your skin from hers.
Needing to feel you properly, for your soft flesh to dimple beneath her fingers, to leave lovebites scattered across every inch of you that you offered.
“It killed me to see you with him,” she muttered, chest seizing at how vulnerable the confession came out.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head before she abruptly flipped you over, pinning you beneath her and pushing your dress up to expose-
Oh fuck.
Was every part of you so pretty?
Your pussy glistening as she nudged your thighs further apart, her pulse pounding in her ears as she finally got to see all of you up close. Presented perfectly for her, your nose scrunched up like you might be scared she could possibly find something wrong with you instead of being awestruck by the simple sight of you splayed out for her.
She might not have a cock, but Satoru was sure she could make you cum hard enough to forget about any petty insecurities that might be plaguing you.
“Take your gown off,” Satoru instructed, only realizing how stern it came out when you faltered, hesitating as you bit your bottom lip. “Please.”
Before she had to break down and beg for you to strip.
Satoru sat up and started lifting off her own dress as well, watching the way your eyes hung onto the heave of her breasts, how they kept shyly flickering back up to her face as your fingers slowly moved to remove the fabric.
You weren’t girls anymore.
Not kids playing husband and wife, or king and queen.
Exploring each other for keeps, hands tepidly traveling across hips and thighs and breasts at first, although it didn’t take much time for the touches to turn needy.
Hungry for something you’d both been starving yourselves of for years.
Could you really blame Satoru for not being able to stop herself?
For hooking one of those soft thighs of yours over her shoulder and dragging her tongue along the inside of it before the last little tendril of self-control she possessed snapped?
She had to have you.
Slipping two fingers inside you slowly, feeling the way you squeezed around her digits, your mouth forming a delicious little ‘o’ she wanted to kiss again. Already shaking before she even began to swirl her fingers around inside of you, barely able to contain the heat rolling through her core just watching your reactions as she pushed in deeper.
You whimpered, and every single thing that led up to this in Satoru’s life was suddenly worth it.
The mocking, the marriage, every mistake she made on this meandering path, she’d do all of it again if you were waiting for her at the end of it.
Your lips swollen and kiss-bruised as you let out soft sounds of pleasure that were because of her. Your naked form shivering in the same bed as you reached down to run your fingers through her hair, holding it back as she found herself half-delirious with lust she couldn’t hold back.
Slotting in a third finger the second she thought you could take it, watching your eyes widen and start to water as they rolled back, your hips bucking up to drive her fingers as deep as possible.
“My princess can take more,” she purred, spreading you further apart, greedy eyes gazing on your stripped bare body, the thin sheen of sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned her name.
“S-S’toru,” you cried out, and she was a little tempted to just do this for hours and count how many times she could make you say it precisely like that.
Satoru must have imagined this moment a million times. What your face would look like all scrunched up, how you would shiver and shake as she swirled her fingers in, feeling for all those sensitive spots that had you immediately trying to squirm and wiggle away.
Pushing and pressing into them while she pleaded for you to stay put in her sultriest voice.
“Be a good girl for me,” she hummed, and you nodded, loyal as ever. Itching to please her as badly as she wanted to please you. “Let me love you.”
Let her hold you.
Fuck you.
Make you cum as many times as you could in a single night and then give her the rest of them. All your nights. All your days. Everything.
Satoru had always been greedy.
And you satiated her sweet tooth more than anything else ever did.
Sinking her teeth into the inside of your thighs just because she could, feeling your muscles twitch and spasm as you gasped, caught off guard.
You didn’t stop her.
No, you let her bite and lick and kiss, her mouth latching onto your swollen clit, swirling the tip of her tongue over it as you let out a raw noise. As if someone had just ripped it from your stomach, pulled it out of you too fast for you to soften it.
Her fingers continued to thrust in while she nipped at your clit, just for your body to confirm what she suspected by clenching around her hand like you wanted to trap it in there. You were cumming for her already.
She’d seen you do it with Suguru.
But this one was so much more visceral, no dramatic or drawn-out moan, just your body melting into a puddle for her to mold as you fell apart for her.
You were shuddering, limbs trembling, as you tried to pull her back by her hair.
But you had never been good at telling her no.
Even when she was driving you right to the brink of overstimulation, and then pushing you well past it, greedily sucking on that sensitive bud, pressing her tongue flat against it as she pumped her fingers in-and-out, finding a steady rhythm to ruin you too.
Satoru had never had sex before. Her purity protected well into the marriage she was supposed to save it for. No experience of her own to truly compare this too. But she’d touched herself and pretended it was you enough times to have an idea of what would make you unravel just right.
Operating on instinct, on need, peering up at you from her position between your thighs as pretty tears welled up in your eyes. Satoru wanted to soothe your ache, to kiss them away and drag her tongue over the streaks they left on your cheeks.
Perhaps she should’ve planned a little better, found something bigger to stick in you, to make you moan and murmur for mercy with, watching you fall apart while she teased and toyed with your body now that you had finally given yourself fully to her.
You were so beautiful like this.
Being brought to the heights of pleasure, worshipped the way you should’ve been from the start, her tongue and fingers working together as she clumsily made out with you, only pulling off to drag the thick muscle over your slick folds for a better taste.
“I-I-” You hiccuped, your voice half an octave too high as your thighs clamped down around her head, your own thrown back as you wiggled your hips, chasing a second climax. “I c-can’t-”
“You can,” Satoru hummed, rubbing her own thighs together to soothe the aching need between them. “Want you to cum for me again, princess.”
You wouldn’t deny her.
You never did.
Desperately groaning as you gave in, sweat making both your bodies sticky as you tried to not to tug too hard at her hair, still holding back to not hurt her as you crumbled into a crying mess. Tears slipping out that she was quick to climb back on top of you and wipe away, kissing your lips to swallow your whines, enjoying the way you fit so nicely beneath her until you started to come back down.
“You look so pretty like this,” she softly complimented, tracing her thumb over your lip, already missing your kiss the moment your mouths were apart.
“Toru,” you whispered her name, and she was sure that she would never get sick of hearing it. Far fucking better than the way you used to say Suguru.
“Mhm?” She hummed, chewing on the inside of her cheek as you stared straight through her. That fuzzy look in your eyes fading as understanding replaced the daze.
Like you’d suddenly gained some clarity.
“It was you, was it?” You asked, and you didn’t need to say what when you were both well aware of what you were accusing her of.
Were you really just now considering it?
Was your judgement clouded from your unconditional love? So devoted that you were deluding yourself into ignoring the obvious?
“No,” Satoru lied, still in the habit of hiding the truth if it meant sparing your feelings. Refusing to lose you after she just got you. “It wasn’t me.”
ε✿з
You were flying far too close to the sun.
You knew that somewhere deep inside of you as Satoru snuggled against your collarbone, her warmth wrapped around you as she burned you up. Her scorching touch seared into your skin as she refused to let even an inch separate the two of you.
Sooner or later, your wings were going to fail you, and send you tumbling out of the sky back to the ground.
Would she catch you when you crashed?
Or would you be left to stare up at her until she was just a beautiful bird flying high out of your reach?
All you were doing was damning yourself by dreaming of a happy ending with her.
You guessed you should just be grateful for what you had while you had it.
That she hadn’t cut your tongue out for daring to slip it between her lips.
It hadn’t been the first time you had thought about it.
But even entertaining the idea of her choosing you had always been so preposterous you pushed your budding feelings down deep, refusing to let them devour you no matter how often she occupied your dreams.
Your life had been built around the pristine pedestal you placed her on.
Your world revolved around her smile, her laugh, hearing your twinkling voice in your ear and feeling her soft fingers brushing over your skin.
Everything you’d ever done had been for her.
So why did it feel like you’d just gone from warming one ruler’s sheets to another?
As if you were just in her bed for the comfort she brought, the security of her position.
You hoped she wouldn’t think that. That she understood that if she asked you to run away with her today, you would accept without hesitation.
Next to her now, her sleepy eyes fluttering open as she hummed your name, it just made you think of how stupid you were not to have been doing this all along. For not seeing this for what it was sooner.
“You’ll be safe here,” Satoru murmured, snuggling against you as you rolled onto your side. Keeping herself glued to you, her lips lingering on your skin with a content sigh.
“What happens next?” You murmured, watching the morning sun beginning to rise through the stained glass window, slowly chasing the dark away as your personal sunshine faltered for a moment.
“They’re still investigating his passing,” she mumbled, refusing to say Suguru’s name. Or call it for what it must have been. An assassination someone wanted to make you the scapegoat for. “You haven’t been officially cleared yet.”
And still, she’d showed up for you, hadn’t she?
“But I will be?” You hopefully asked, your heart thrumming at the thought of this being ripped from you too.
“Nothing will happen to you,” she swore.
You had given her your heart. Your soul. Your body.
Those were all you really had to offer.
But handing her your trust?
That was…tricky.
Especially when she wouldn’t offer any more details about your detainment as the minutes melted into hours and the hours twisted into days that just kept passing.
In the dark moments, a cold voice suggested that you should at least consider the chance she could have done it. Orchestrated it from the shadows. But she had told you she hadn’t.
She would’ve confessed it if she had.
Suguru had his fair share of enemies. Disgruntled rulers from other kingdoms, angry nobles and dukes who wanted more power than he allowed.
It wasn’t like it was outrageous that one of them had grown sick of his antics and took matters into their own hands.
So you tried to be content too, Satoru trading your tower for more comfortable quarters, her trusted knights stationed outside the room you caught glimpses at when she slipped in-and-out, leaving you to attend to her duties most days.
She brought you meals, insisting on hand feeding you half the time, murmuring under her breath that you couldn’t be trusted to do it yourself before she had you for dessert. Hands spreading your thighs apart as she lapped and licked you up, refusing to pull off until you had cum on her tongue or come undone with her fingers, falling apart for her to mend back together.
Still, it had started to feel like you were becoming more a part of her schedule than like her partner.
Perhaps that was wishing too much though.
Wanting more than you had any right to ask for.
At the end of the day, you would still always be a maid in everyone’s eyes.
Her pet.
Her people wouldn’t exactly be pleased to know that their queen was more interested in women than securing another king or providing them an heir?
Were you a price she was willing to pay for political control? Would there come a day where she would remarry another man?
Was it already being arranged while you wasted weeks lounging around in her bed and longing for her to join you, smelling her scent on the pillow and aching for her return?
The worst part was how Satoru was so hesitant to let you hold her, doing everything on her terms as she came up with excuse after excuse to keep your hands either bound behind your back or tethered in her hair instead of tracing over her soft skin.
Did she think you were too dirty?
That you would stain her supple flesh if you so much as squeezed her close?
No matter how much it stung, you still shoved down your discomfort. Told yourself that you should be grateful for what she was giving you and ignore how much she withheld.
You had to plead with her just to be allowed to visit her office during the days to keep yourself from going insane. A trusted knight always had to accompany you there, a shawl hiding your face as they carefully took you there when no one else would be around. She stocked extra books for you, a basket left next to one of the armchairs with embroidery supplies, sometimes making you write letters for her that she couldn’t care to do herself to foreign kingdoms and nobles to settle their unrest.
And after a month, you began to settle.
Setting aside old foolish hopes and accepting your new routine.
Waiting for her to join you in her office, curling up in one of the other chairs as you tried to tell yourself that she’d come back soon. She had run off to attend some important meeting, patting your head and telling you that it was nothing when you tried to ask what it was about.
So what if it made you feel a little pathetic for waiting around like a poor puppy dog abandoned by her owner?
Satoru would return to you.
And she made all of it worth it.
Your body was beginning to fall asleep though, pins and needles pricking your limbs when you stood to shake it off, walking around in a circle and wondering if you were just destined to be on her leash before you decided to slump yourself in her chair instead.
It smelled like her.
Your body relaxing at the scent, already trained as your eyes skimmed over her cluttered desk space, papers strewn around from the hurry she left in before.
Curiosity pricking at you as you found yourself slowly opening up drawers and peeking inside to see if there was anything interesting hiding from you. And slipped underneath thick ledgers and blank papers was a plain black leather-bound notebook you’d seen her writing in before.
You pulled it out, a not-at-all small piece of you hoping that maybe it was a secret diary as you started flipping through it, that you’d find your own name scribbled down with hearts drawn next to it.
It turned out your name was there.
But it was the words that were with it that sent your stomach through the floor.
The contents of it were cold.
Sharp. Each word punctuated so deeply that the ink bled between the pages.
The confirmation that she loved you was there. Just sandwiched between white hot anger that someone else had gotten to touch you first. To fuck you in the bed you belonged in with her.
Queasiness slowly building in your core, something thick and slimy coiling around your heart as you skipped from the earlier entries to the more recent ones, knowing what was coming before you found the entry for the day Suguru died.
And there in between the lines, the truth stared back at you.
She had dinner with Suguru.
Shared a meal together right before he went to join you that she never once mentioned to you.
No.
This couldn’t be right.
Satoru couldn’t have-
Or well, if she did, she wouldn’t have framed you for it.
She loved you.
Swore that you were hers and that she’d never let anything awful happen to you again. The idea that she’d put you through hell just to have you all to herself was crippling.
Maybe she didn’t outright admit that she’d done it, maybe you still didn’t know precisely how, but you knew it was her with a scary sort of certainty.
Your body freezing as you read and reread the five short lines in front of you detailing her evening, forcing yourself to turn the page and read ahead, to see her absolutely unaffected as she offered just a single line about Suguru dying. Images of his face, that awful look in his eyes before he collapsed floating back up as you choked on the stomach-churning memory of him.
An awful thought crept in that she left it here for you to find. That some part of her hoped you’d be nosey enough to snoop and come across it.
For you to see all of her.
Was it a test?
Her attempt to see if your devotion to her was strong enough to stay despite what she’d done.
You closed the book, shoving it back where you found it and standing up as the knowledge started to sink in, to seep through and cast a darker shade on your days together as you rushed to return to your chair.
What if it had all been designed to keep you firmly in your place beneath her? Confined to her chambers and chained to her heart?
Didn’t she already know she didn’t need to do any of it for you to stay?
The door opened with a creak, and you were reopening the forgotten book you’d been reading before you found the forbidden one.
“Hi, beautiful,” Satoru greeted as she walked over, bending over to press a soft kiss on your cheek before breezing past to her desk.
“Hi, Toru,” you echoed, pretending to be absorbed in the book in your hands, hoping she wouldn’t notice you were holding it upside down.
You closed it, placing it in your lap as you looked up at her with easy obedience, praying she wouldn’t pay any mind to the suspicion now lingering underneath it.
“Was I gone long?” She earnestly asked as she slid into her seat, scooting it up close to her desk and leaning across it as her blue eyes focused solely on your face.
“It felt like it,” you confessed, swallowing hard.
“I must make it up to you tonight then,” your Toru teased, her perfectly cruel mouth curling up as she delivered a cute wink.
She did make it up to you.
But it didn’t make you forget what you found.
What were you meant to do about it?
Pretend you hadn’t? Pray that no one else would ever discover what you had?
You wished she would abandon this. Abdicate the throne and take you away somewhere warm.
But it was Satoru.
Hadn’t you learned already she refused to give up anything once it was hers?
The privilege, the power, the promise of a gold gilded future with you waiting on her.
She would never let it go.
It was you that didn’t know how to move forward. That could figure out where to go from here when she didn’t seem to notice your indiscretion.
You spent two days torn over it. Treading softly with her, feigning that you were fine overnight until she left you again and you unraveled in her absence.
Opening the bedroom door an hour after she left, already knowing who’d you find on the other side.
A brute of a man standing guard, his back to the opposite wall as his ruby red eyes narrowed at you with pure annoyance.
“No.”
You hadn’t even spoken yet.
Eying him with the same irritation he showed for you, nose scrunching up as you stopped yourself from huffing.
Most of the guards she had stationed outside your room changed, unaware of who they were even protecting, a rotating roster of men ready to keep you from breaking free. But not him.
He was always the one posted directly by your door.
Dark pink hair falling down in his face, scarred and marked skin always creased in a stern scowl when he caught you staring at him, one foot about to fall forward before he shook his head.
“Stop,” he grunted as you peeked out of the door, and you feigned innocence, shrugging your shoulders.
“I just want to go to her office,” you pleaded, and he glared at you, refusing to even entertain your request.
“No,” he deadpanned.
But there was something underneath his rude facade that you didn’t like. Your brows pinching together as you tried to pout at him, to come up with something persuasive enough to change his answer.
Before you could, there was the click of heels, and you glanced back to see Satoru returning, a platter prepared with desserts. Her pretty face was pinched up with obvious displeasure though, her mouth twitching down as you hurried to step back inside your room.
She was slamming the door shut after you a few seconds later, half-shoving the tray into your hands as she turned to you with a disgruntled hiss.
“Why were you speaking to him?” Satoru snapped, and the only thing you could properly think about was how pretty she looked when she was jealous.
The downturn of her lips, the way her blue eyes glinted with unfettered annoyance, blowing air out of her nose as she tilted her head to the side all dramatically.
“I wanted to see you,” you murmured, cupping her face just for her jaw to clench.
Torn between taking you at your word and questioning it.
“You know I would be here with you all the time if I could,” she softly said, despite how cold her stare still was. Her hands still held warmth for you though. Delicately picking up a slice of a cake she must’ve requested the chef make, bringing it up to your lips.
You opened up for her. Holding her stare as she pushed it through, taking a small bite as she watched you swallow it.
“I worry about you,” you confessed as she wiped the icing from the corner of your mouth.
“Don’t.”
You never thought Satoru could possibly ask too much of you.
But that was simply impossible.
And the longer you went without any answers, the more you found yourself starting to spiral. To unravel as you waited and waited for something to change.
What could you do?
It wasn’t like the court you’d never found any friends in would support what the two of you shared. Satoru had kept you completely clueless to what was happening outside of the two rooms you could be in, ignorant to how much trouble she might be in with no husband to wear the crown.
Truthfully, you had no plan.
No magical solution that struck you in the middle of the night.
But you wanted to help.
Peeking back out into the hallway a week after you first found her book, ready to prod and press her knight for more information on what you’d been missing, but to your surprise, the hallway was empty.
No sign of anyone as you slipped out, your heart thrumming loudly in your chest as you started down the familiar path to her office.
It was a short walk, but every step made your chest constrict, pulse pounding so loud you were sure someone had to hear until you were finally there, her office door cracked open just enough for you to steal a glimpse inside.
The knight was there, his brows knitted together tight as he looked through all the books lining the shelves, walking over to her desk and carefully looking through the documents on it with that permanent scowl of his.
Searching for something.
Oh no.
You had a feeling you knew exactly what he was hoping to find.
He was going to betray her, wasn’t he? Looking for proof of what she’d done
His hand reached for the drawer her notebook was in, and you were pushing the door open before he could discover it.
Your suspicions were confirmed with how straight he abruptly stood, acting as if he hadn’t just been snooping.
“What are you doing out of your room?” He snarled at you, his voice hoarse and harsh as you refused to tremble or back down.
“What are you doing in here?” You returned the question, throat constricting at the intensity of his glare.
You weren’t brave. Not nearly as strong or stubborn as Satoru.
It wasn’t like anyone would ever be intimidated by you.
But you would try for her.
He didn’t answer your question, just grinding his back molars as he stepped out from around the desk, starting to stomp over as if he planned to drag you out and toss you back into your room.
If he did that though, he might just come back and find precisely what he was looking for.
So while he started towards you, you walked the opposite way around to where he’d been, a lie slipping off your tongue like you were used to telling them, “I just wanted to grab some books I left in here.”
“Hurry up then,” he scoffed, biting his tongue, probably not pushing it so you wouldn’t go and tattle to Toru about him being in here.
He thought you were stupid.
Just a brainless fool who was only good for getting fingered and fucked.
Not batting an eye when you grabbed a couple books you’d set aside on Satoru’s desk before pulling open the drawer and grabbing her diary, sliding it in the middle of the pile as her knight impatiently looked outside the door.
She would notice it was gone.
And you would have to fess up, admit that you’d read it enough to know to take it.
You’d rather her be mad at you than to get caught for her crime.
Stoking the flames in the fireplace the second your guard half-pushed you back into the room you were supposed to be in, ripping out the incriminating pages first and using them for tender before tossing the rest of the book in.
Watching it go up in flames, ashes sputtering out as it turned to dust in front of your eyes while you paced the floor and planned out the speech you would give her.
Or would have given her had she actually returned for dinner.
The sun setting and the moon replacing it through your window as you waited and waited for her to come for you. Debating and drowning in your anxieties over what could be taking her so long, your eyes compelled back to the burning papers, using the fire poker to keep the flames going before you were finally forced to face the reality that Satoru might not be showing up tonight.
Climbing back under the freezing covers, the bed so much bigger without her there to curl up against.
It didn’t matter how silky the sheets were or how comfortable the mattress was.
You couldn’t sleep anymore when there wasn’t the scent of her perfume and the softness of her skin to comfort you.
Was she upset with you?
Had something awful happened to her?
To make everything worse, you started to hear a…commotion on the floor below you. Voices and the sound of things moving around, shouts and scuffles that only served to heighten your nerves.
You almost opened the door to go find out what was going on. Sneak out again to search for the truth, but every time your hand settled on the knob, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it.
Ignorance could be bliss.
But the truth would come out sooner or later.
Curled up on the edge of your bed, hands clasped together as your eyes stuck to the door, shadows dancing across the floor as the sun rose once again.
When it opened again, you were immediately standing, wiping sweaty palms on your nightdress as your breath got stuck in your throat, a hot lump forming the moment Satoru actually walked through.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she softly greeted, exhaustion obvious in the dark circles betraying her beautiful face.
“What happened?” You asked, studying her features for some clue, heart slamming into your chest as you tried to figure out what the chaos beneath you could possibly be. What could’ve taken her so long to come to you.
“They discovered who killed our dearly departed king,” she said, a faint hint of amusement shimmering before she turned away to lock the door behind her.
“What?” Your throat closed up, the word coming out as a stunned squeak as your brain tried to add together everything you knew.
The person who killed Suguru was standing in front of you.
If they knew that, she would be on her way to the gallows.
Not turning around so you could undo her corset.
You automatically stepped forward, fingers trembling as you undid her dress out of habit.
“One of the knights slipped poison into his wine,” Satoru apathetically huffed, as if it was a waste of time to even talk about it.
“One of the knights?” You echoed, reaching for something you didn’t know if you were confident enough to confront her about right as you unlaced the final part. Satoru stepped out of it with ease, her perfect body on display as she twisted back around to look over her shoulder at you. “Which one?”
“Does it matter?” She scoffed, arching up an eyebrow, clearly unhappy with your question.
But you still had one more left.
“Why?”
Her hesitation to answer gave you a different one.
“You know as well as I do what he was like,” she said, a little too snappy as she squinted at you.
But the moment the words were out there, you could see she regretted her response, her fingers skimming over your waist and squeezing you tenderly. “It’s all over now.”
You stared at her.
Satoru was lying to you.
You didn’t know why it surprised you. Couldn’t explain why it left you so shocked, staring at her in silence as you struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t give away what you knew.
“The knight was executed over night,” she added, your heart stilling as you realized the toll had risen to two.
But could you be upset when the other option was one, or maybe both of you taking their place?
“How did-”
“He stole something of mine,” Satoru muttered, and you knew what must’ve happened without her offering anything else.
She must have returned to her office first and realized her journal was gone.
And there were only two people she trusted enough to have access to the office it was kept in.
So she pinned the blame on her knight and beheaded him before he could speak about any of its contents or piece together what she’d done for you.
“He didn’t,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking as you struggled to get any more air in.
One of you had to be honest here.
She blinked at you, not comprehending what you were saying.
“What?”
“It was me,” you admitted, stiffly shrugging your shoulders. “I saw him searching your office. And, I, um, took it and threw it in the hearth.”
“You burned my-?”
“I read it,” you swallowed hard, that hard lump still there, still choking you up as you avoided her stare. “Before. I know-”
“No,” she cut you off, grabbing your chin and forcing you to tilt your face up to meet hers. “You, you were supposed to stay out of this.”
You knew in an instant all she wanted was to protect you. To shield you from the nasty politics and petty games these awful people liked to play.
But you couldn’t stand the idea of her doing anything at the expense of herself.
“You should have told me from the start,” you insisted. “I-I would’ve-”
“Your hands were supposed to be clean.” And your head empty.
Did she think you wouldn’t have loved her if you knew what she had done?
And now you had helped her conceal it.
“We could have-” You started, about to tell her that as long as you were together, you could work out the rest.
“If I told you before, you would have said there was another way,” Satoru solemnly said, her eyes narrowing as her fingers tightened around your wrist.
You couldn’t really argue that. You would have said precisely that. Told her it was too risky. Tried to dissuade her from taking drastic measures and attempting to convince her to run away with you.
You used to wish that the two of them would find a way to work it out. That you could find a happily ever after where everyone would get along.
What would your reaction have been if she touched your face and told you that she was going to murder her husband?
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She pressed when you took too long to reply, her fingers pinching your chin to draw your attention back to right now. “I was not about to let you carry his child.”
It wasn’t like you could have hers.
Even if you’d do that in a heartbeat.
“He would have just kept putting babies in you and pushing me away from you” Satoru hissed, jealousy and anger rolling into her raw voice. “I couldn’t-”
“I know,” you interrupted her this time, softening as you leaned into her.
“Now it’s just us again,” she whispered conspiratorially, pressing a clipped-short nail against the tip of your nose.
How were you supposed to be mad about that?
You held your breath though, still searching for anything that could stand in the way.
“These people, they are not going to just let you rule forever,” you whispered, thinking about what could befall both of you if her treason was ever discovered. Sure, she’d found someone to blame, but there must be other loose ends. Whoever she obtained the poison from. The subjects who never supported her as queen to start with. “If they find out or-”
Satoru pressed her finger against your mouth, stopping you while you spiralled.
“Princess,” she murmured, clicking her tongue as her initial emotions swirled into that cocky confidence of hers. Pride returning as she realized that you weren’t going to condemn or curse her, but that you were concerned for her. “Don’t you know me?”
You hoped that meant she had already considered every side of your fear and took care of every conceivable problem.
“I love you,” you offered instead, your voice trembling as you put your trust in her hands.
“His throne is mine,” she smiled softly. And his concubine.
“What if someone else challenges it?” You pressed.
“There’s going to be a baby born with dark hair and purple eyes in a few months. His child. The mother doesn’t want the child, so I made a deal. She gets her own estate. We will get our heir,” She explained, speaking in short sentences like it would make the revelation easier to swallow.
“Someone else was pregnant with his child?” You breathed, taken aback.
When the fuck did he have the time to plow someone else’s field when he pretended to be so preoccupied with you?
It was wrong, especially when it wasn’t like your heart had ever wanted him, but it wounded your own pride a little bit at the idea you hadn’t been enough for him.
You supposed you should’ve suspected it, if Satoru wasn’t enough for him either.
“You weren’t his only-”
“Whore,” you finished for her, the word coming out a little strangled as you saw the situation for what it was.
All you’d been was a warm body to Suguru.
You were both disposable, to be used and discarded when his interests drifted.
“We’ll tell everyone the baby is yours,” she added, as if she had already planned every last detail out. “And until the child is old enough, I can still rule as a regent.”
Was that why she’d been hiding you away?
Faking a pregnancy instead of keeping you prisoner?
“Do you think they’ll accept a child they think is a bastard?” You asked, needing her to say yes.
To assure you that your fears were unfounded.
That she’d take care of you the same way she always had.
“I will give them no other option.”
When she spoke like that, that cold look icing over her eyes as she steeled her resolve, you knew she would. That she would do anything necessary to make sure of it.
“And what? We live happily ever after?”
Say yes.
You needed it. Craved her confirmation.
Looking up at her as your trembling fingers reached out to trace her waist, holding your breath as she nodded slowly.
“Forever.”
Your angel was standing in front of you promising you everything you ever wanted.
How were you ever meant to say no?
Even if she would lead you straight to Hell.
“You can be my queen,” Satoru murmured, giving you that pretty puppy dog pout you always fell for, placated as she leaned down to leave a soft kiss to your forehead like it was all settled.
Regret still lingering in your body as you ached to actually be that for her. Wishing your circumstances had been different from the beginning.
That you were never cursed to be so far below her, and in the body of a woman that could never wear a matching ring or recite wedding vows to her.
“I wish I was a-”
“Do not,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “You are perfect precisely the way you are.”
“Then why don’t you let me love you like you love me?” You asked, almost immediately annoyed at yourself for sounding a little whiney.
But you wanted to be inside of her.
To feel her squeeze and squirm around you, to hear her dissolve into messy whimpers and whines because of you.
“W-what do you mean?” She stuttered, her white brows arching up high as her lips got stuck in the sort of ‘o’ that made you itch to slip your tongue inside of her.
“I want to make you feel good,” you simply said, cheeks heating up as you swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth.
You had never seen Satoru nervous before.
Her mouth opened and clamped shut a few times before she started trying to ramble off reasons that she was better at giving, but you were sick of them.
Sick of all the stupid things that had kept you apart.
All the years you could’ve spent in her warmth that you missed out on. Mourning what both of your lives could’ve been if you were born as other people.
But she had sworn you were enough for her.
Was it wrong to want to show her how she was far more than enough for you?
“I-I just like the way you taste and-”
You kissed her mid-sentence, shutting her up before she could stall this any longer.
Grabbing her this time, guiding her back to the bed one step at a time, tangling your fingers in her soft, silky hair as your tongue slipped past her lips, tracing the sharp tips of her canines until her back hit the mattress.
And god, the moment you climbed on top of her, straddling her soft waist and pausing to peel your nightdress over your head, you hated yourself for not doing it sooner.
For missing out on the view you were currently taking in, eyes slowly drifting over the swell of her breasts, the pink peaked buds of her nipples as she sucked in uneven breaths, staring up at you with those dazzling blue eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, the words ripped from you as you struggled to keep yourself steady.
It felt like you were defiling something holy.
Her sacred body below you, your fingertips skimming over her pale stomach, swirling slowly across her nipple as you bit your bottom lip.
If she was an altar, a god, you’d pray to her every day.
Swear your faith and undying devotion, shower her with offerings and pray for just a sliver of her favor.
You couldn't believe she was yours.
“I’m a virgin,” Satoru suddenly blurted out, your fingers freezing as you drifted them back down below her belly button.
“Oh,” you blinked.
You suppose it should’ve been obvious.
But you had never really thought too hard about it.
You never exactly prized your virtue. But hers was different.
Special.
“Do you want me to stop?” You tentatively asked, about to climb back off of her before her hand gripped onto your hip to hold you there.
“No,” she answered a little too quickly.
So you came up with another solution to, ah, quell her nerves.
The ribbons you used to tie her hair with now strewn all over the bed, a long one in your hands as you adjusted her head forward.
“I’ll be gentle,” you promised.
Even though she practically jumped at every tiny touch you delivered to her skin, shivering at just a brush of your thumb over her nipple and when you leaned close enough for your breath to ghost across her throat.
You wrapped the ribbon around her eyes, excitement tingling between your fingers as you fixed the silk ribbon into its proper place, tying a pretty bow around the back, careful not to get her hair caught in it.
“Can you see?” You asked, humming softly with satisfaction as you lifted her wrists up next, positioning them above her hair as she writhed in the sheets.
“No,” she echoed, her voice shaking a little no matter how cocky she still tried to sound.
“Good.”
You tied her wrists next, watching the way she tested how strong the knot was by flexing them as you smiled to yourself.
“You know, you’re so mean,” you murmured, tracing your fingertip across her sharp features, brushing your thumb over her defined cheekbones before drifting down to her soft lips. “It’s only fair I get to play with you too.”
“I’m never mean to you,” Satoru huffed, and you were a little tempted to grab another ribbon and gag her with it for playing dumb.
“I hate it when you hide things from me,” you muttered, shaking your head with a soft tut of your tongue.
“I do it because-”
“You love me?” You asked, slowly shuffling down her body, pressing kiss after kiss across her heaving breasts down her slender abdomen.
Hoisting one of her thighs over your shoulder, sucking in a breath before you leaned in to leave on the most sensitive spot on her body.
“S-so much,” her cute voice cracked, nearly crumbling at the soft contact.
All her strength quickly melted into a puddle of pure need, her hips bucking up when you shifted down to start sucking on it, a gorgeous whimper escaping her – and immediately making you greedy for more.
You never thought Satoru would be at your mercy.
Her pretty pale body shivering, perfect skin glistening with sweat as she shuddered for you, her soft thighs trying to close around your head as you dragged your tongue down across her soaked cunt.
You didn’t think anything could ever taste so goddamn good.
No better than a man, wiggling your own hips down into the mattress to chase friction you couldn’t find, pushing your tongue in-and-out as her muscles twitched and tensed beneath your fingertips.
Suguru had never gotten you half as wet as her.
Never worked you up like this, left you soaked and squirming without even being touched. Your thighs pressing together to push down the heat stirring in your core, your pulse pounding so hard you nearly couldn’t hear her whining over it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I-”
You knew Satoru loved to chatter.
But once you were inside her it was like she physically couldn’t shut up, stammering and stuttering out curses, straining against the binds on her wrists and whining about not being able to see you.
“P-please, wanna see you, want to, oh god,” she begged, the beautiful arch of her back nearly breaking your resolve as heat soared straight up to cloud your head.
And before you could stop yourself, you were twisting around, angling your hips down to put your own pussy perfectly above her mouth, shutting her up by giving her something to lick and suck instead.
“Oh, fuck, ngh-”
Her words traded in for another heated moan as she shoved her tongue inside you, swirling it in with a desperation you found yourself quick to succumb to.
It really wasn’t fair that she was so good at everything you tried.
But you still refused to completely lose yourself, working harder to make her cum first, slipping your thumb up to her clit, only pulling off to start cooing and condescendingly coaxing her into coming undone, copying the same methods she so expertly pulled on you.
“C-come on,” you murmured, dragging your thumb in a slow circle as she shifted to suck on your clit just right, driving you right to the brink with her eagerness to give you everything she had. “Show me how much you love me.”
Preferably by falling to pieces on your tongue.
Sweat practically dripping off her, her moans reverberating through you as her body began to shake. On the very brink of breaking, pushed closer and closer as she started to cry out your name.
Her soft voice was music to your ears, a soft purr that made all the knots in your stomach pull tight instead of making them curdle like Suguru’s sometimes had.
You slipped your fingers inside her, feeling the way her walls squeezed down on them, trying to keep you in as you worked her oversensitive bud. She made a cute little squeak, her tongue lolling out as she began to babble again, “S’too much, I-I-”
“Shhh,” you murmured, pressing your tongue down as she spasmed and whimpered desperately at the sensation. “Can’t you cum for me?”
You glanced back over your shoulder to see the sight of her nodding hard and fast, the blindfold slightly crooked and her hands clawing at the pillow as she chased her climax.
“Put that pretty tongue of yours to better use,” you softly suggested, ignoring the initial discomfort at your reversed roles as you grinded your hips down on her face.
Apparently, your Toru could be a good listener too when she tried.
Doing her best to devote her tongue to you right up until the moment she couldn’t hold herself together anymore, cumming with a cry into your clit as your fingers found a sweet spot right below her cervix, pressing on it as you teased her swollen bud with the tip of your own pink muscle.
She was trembling, her legs twitching and toes curling as she let out devastated little whines that it wasn’t fair, squirming as you cleaned her up, enjoying the way she whimpered every single time your tongue dragged over her skin.
You could spend eternity buried between her thighs.
Or with hers between yours.
So what if it might be too much to ask?
She would make the universe give it to you anyway.
ε✿з
“My pretty princess.”
And her not terribly ugly son.
Satoru traced your face with her fingers, sighing to herself as the morning sun kissed your face, bathed you in beautiful warmth – oh, and the baby in your arms. Both of you snoozing softly, drool leaking out on your nightdress as you slept on your side, blissfully unaware of the outside world.
You made a pretty mother. Loved the little bastard Satoru did her best to tolerate.
Cradling an infant that neither of you had to carry, kissing his forehead and proudly showing him off to the other members of the court after he was born.
He’d never know he wasn’t yours. No one would.
Satoru would make sure of it.
His mother had been more than happy to take the estate. Especially when she knew the alternative would be Satoru taking her tongue to ensure she’d never talk.
She was still keeping tabs though. Just to be safe.
To make sure that this happy little family of hers would stay that way.
The nobles had protested. Insisted that she had no place as queen with Suguru dead. But his son, with his soft purple eyes and dark hair, well, that was enough to buy her eighteen more years.
Of course, there were still whispers.
Rumors swirled that she quickly snuffed out, either with quiet compensation or cold force. So what if a few more people had to be poisoned to protect your life together?
Rewriting history hadn’t been that hard.
No one needed to remember how much she hated Suguru. Or how rocky the marriage had been.
She got to be the mourning widow. The gracious wife still honoring her deceased husband by letting his bastard child be the heir. Raising him with a concubine instead of throwing both of them out.
That was how she’d be remembered.
“Good morning,” you yawned, slowly cracking your eyes open as you smiled at her.
“Sleep well?” She inquired, tempted to pick up the baby and place him back in his cradle so she could be cuddled instead.
You still had nightmares sometimes. Ones where you’d thrash around and she’d have to scoop him up and call for a wet nurse to take him until morning.
Waking you up to soothe you, stroking your hair and pretending not to know she was the reason for them.
And yet, you looked at her like she hung the sun in the sky and shined bright enough to chase away all the shadows. To bury the skeletons somewhere you’d never see them.
“Mhm,” you hummed, affectionately glancing between his chubby cheeks up to Satoru’s persistent pout as she puffed air into them.
“Have any attention left for me?” She pleaded, craning her neck over them to dramatically wait for you to press a gentle kiss to her nose.
synopsis: you weren't looking for a boyfriend - one just found you anyway. but things start looking a little more complicated when the roommate you thought you hated starts cutting himself a bigger slice of your life than you ever meant to let him have.
pairings: husband!Gojo x f!Reader
content: smut + light angst, DOMESTIC IN LOVE GOJO!!!, gojo is our favorite green flag!, choso is heartbroken, arguing with yuji lol, reader is having a hard time, protective/possessive gojo, husband/wife time, unprotected piv sex, kitchen sex, kissing, they want each other so badly, accidental creampie
art by @/keki1205 + div by @/petalpxl
"Tell me he's lying."
You couldn't say that. Just like you couldn't stop Choso's heart from breaking the second it started to sink in for him that there wasn't going to be some second chance for the two of you.
He lost you.
And even in six months, if you decided that this whole marriage thing wasn't for you, you weren't sure you could go back to accepting the love he previously offered.
Not when you knew what it felt like to be chosen now.
To not constantly wonder when you'd be shoved on a shelf, only occupying some secret, hidden half of his heart that he couldn't share with the rest of the world.
Or really, just with the people he cared about the most.
"He's not," you muttered, an uncomfortable lump in your throat as you hesitantly found the strength to meet Choso's broken stare.
"How could-" Choso started, stopping himself to shake his head, dark bangs framing in the face you'd fallen for not all that long ago.
But it was betrayal burning beneath your skin now, hurt and disappointment coiling into a tight ball and bouncing around your chest as you nearly threw his question back at him.
How could you? How could he just stand in the same room he used to fuck you in and look at you like you were the one that left him?
"It's like you're not even the same person," Yuji huffed, as if the two of you had spent enough time together the past few months for him to see you changing.
You were different.
Not nearly as naive as you had been back when you were with Nanami, or quite as foolish as you'd been to think that the thing you had with Choso would ever work out.
Could you really call it a relationship? Truly?
When he would only worship you in silence?
"I'm moving out," you announced, figuring that if they were mad at you now, you might as well make it worse. Just throw everything on the table and leave them to clean up the mess. "I'll still pay my part of the rent, but I'll pack up my stuff soon."
Megumi or Todo would probably move in the moment it was empty anyway. The space you occupied in your best friend's life replaced with ease the second you walked away.
But you couldn't bring yourself to stay when you knew you would be spiraling living just a bathroom apart from someone who shattered your heart.
You'd rather stay with the person devoted to stitching you back together.
"To Gojo's place?" Yuji gawked, guilt swallowing you up as you shrugged numbly at him.
"I was thinking about it before we got married, I, well, I didn't really know how to tell you," you explained, knowing that he probably wouldn't buy it anyway.
"When were you actually going to tell me any of this?" He demanded, and you couldn't help but throw a strained glance back to his brother, not sure what you were even looking for from him.
That had always been your problem, hadn't it?
You could pretend that you didn't know what it was exactly that you wanted, but deep down, you did. Support. To be the one he'd stand up for without hesitation. For Choso to call you his without being so fucking scared of everything else.
But he wasn't capable of doing that if it meant pushing his brother away.
You hadn't forced him to choose, he had just done it anyway. And now you were picking someone else to be your priority above both of them.
"I don't know," you admitted. "I didn't want to."
You didn't want things to change. And everything did anyway.
A chapter of your life was closing, and you were already on the next page, waiting for the rest of them to catch up.
"What the hell?" Yuji asked, while Choso kept to his quiet. What else was there to expect?
"I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I should've just been upfront with you," you continued, meeting his big brown eyes to see what you had been worried about wavering right there in them. All wounded as he shook his head, pink hair sticking up like maybe he'd been running his fingers nervously through them when he paced around here waiting for you.
"Am I just supposed to be okay with you marrying and moving in with a guy you haven't even known for a year?" He scoffed, as if Satoru wasn't literally his boss. And like he hadn't been in full support before you took him seriously. "I'm your best friend-"
"Are you?" You asked, your voice almost cracking as your throat constricted tight. "Because I don't think I'm yours anymore."
His mouth curved down, but even when you suspected water might be welling up in his eyes next, you doubled down.
“I mean, come on, Yuji, how much time have we really spent hanging out even when we already live together? You can’t just act surprised that I’m leaving when you didn’t care that much when I was here,” you added, forcing yourself to look away at that last part as you silently reminded yourself what you were here for.
To get what you needed and go.
Even if you had to sit on the curb outside and wait for Satoru to come back for you.
“That’s not fair,” Yuji argued, not entirely wrong either. You knew you were just saying that stuff because you were hurt too. But standing here, getting confronted like this in front of Choso was just rubbing salt in all your own wounds. "All I wanted was for you to be honest with me, and you just walked away.”
“You want me to be totally honest?” You asked, a defensive laugh escaping as Choso tried to call out your name, to deescalate when it was his damn fault the three of you were doing this now.
“Don’t-”
He shouldn’t have said that.
“I fucked your brother too.”
And okay, you really shouldn’t have said that.
But of all the things either of you had thrown out there, you knew that was the one you wouldn’t be able to undo.
Yuji’s anger immediately deflated into sheer disbelief, his stare shifting between the two of you like he was trying to somehow picture you together before immediately scrunching his nose up in disgust.
"No, no, you-"
"He broke up with me because he didn't want you to find out and get mad at him," you added, glaring accusingly back at Choso who was floundering for something to say, his muscled arms folded across his chest as hurt that rivaled Yuji's shined in his dark eyes.
"Broke up with-" He started to argue, but Yuji was talking over him, realization setting in that you really had slept with his brother. Understanding creeping into his expression like he was suddenly replaying every interaction the two of you had in front of him the last few months, his jaw clenching and releasing as he waved a finger at you that you just swatted away.
"Jesus, do I have to hide Megumi away from you after you divorce my fucking boss?" He snapped, and you winced at the weight of your...betrayal?
It wasn't like you were the only one who'd done it. And Choso had been more than willing before he decided you weren't worth the risk.
You hoped he was happy now.
After all, Yuji would think you were the bad guy here.
"Is there anything else you want or can I finish getting my shit and go now?" You asked, refusing to bite the bait.
You laid it all out.
If Yuji decided he didn't want to see you again, that this was the end of your friendship and he couldn't find it in himself to forgive you for fucking all the most eligible bachelors he knew, well, you would learn to live with his absence.
How different could it be from how you were already living?
"I want you to stay," he stubbornly insisted.
"Please," Choso added, stepping forward, his calloused palm grabbing your wrist before you ripped it away from him, recoiling from his touch. "You can still change your mind."
He hadn't changed his though.
Choso dumped you.
Why couldn't they just let you do the same to them?
"I shouldn't have to fight with you guys to feel like I'm wanted," you muttered, shaking your head as you brushed past Yuji to get a suitcase from the top shelf of your closet, unzipping it as you threw it on your bed.
Yuji made a noise, this strangled scoff that barely even sounded like it came from him, but you didn't stop, snagging the charger you needed and tossing it in. Moving quickly to pack more of your stuff in it, half-convinced that he'd just start putting your clothes back up in protest.
But they both only stared at you, a thick silence falling over as Choso's stare seared into you, silently begging you to look back. To not do what you had already done.
"I'm sorry," Choso started to apologize, his gruff voice even rougher than usual as you shielded yourself from feeling anything from his desperate plea. "I-"
"Don't," you whispered, rejecting it before he could pierce through and rip open your healing scars.
But he fucking sucked at listening.
"Please, just, get an annulment, okay? We can still fix everything, I'll-" Choso tried to promise, but you were past that.
Like you could ever believe it when he was only offering after Yuji already knew about the two of you.
He could see the resignation on your face, the way you refused to even glance back, his voice painfully breaking, "Please, don't do this because of-"
"I'm doing what I want because I want to," you deadpanned. He could blame himself, or blame Satoru, but it was your decision.
You didn't want to keep struggling in a relationship. To waste so much time struggling thinking that meant you must really be in love because you had to fight so hard for it.
Love could be easy.
If you let it.
And it simply was with Satoru.
There was no questioning. No wondering whether or not he wanted you, or wishing he would choose you. He was happy to have his ring on your finger and you by his side. Proud to be yours, permanently stained with his name on his skin and stuck to his hear.
"Do you even give a shit about our friendship?" Your (former?) best friend bluntly asked.
Would he believe you if you said yes?
"Yuji."
He froze at the sound of Satoru's voice, cold and sharp, silencing him as you both looked back at where he was standing in the doorway, his usual smile traded in for a tight-lipped frown.
Relief flooded you, your body relaxing before he even walked over to you, shoulders slumping as he protectively put himself between you and your roommates.
"You-" Yuji tried to sound tough, but his voice wasn't steady, shaking on just a single syllable.
"Don't speak to my wife like that," Satoru sternly cut him off. You forgot sometimes what that other side of him could be like. Looked over the fact that he was literally a lawyer who spent half his work hours arguing with people, his usually goofy grin and soft stare replaced with an icy mask of disdain as his gaze shifted over to where Choso was scowling back at him.
"You just couldn't fucking wait to swoop in and-" Choso snapped at him, unable to hold onto his carefully crafted image in front of Yuji at the hint of a smug smirk that automatically curled up on Satoru's lips.
"You had your chance, I just took mine," Satoru shrugged, wrapping an arm around you as Yuji just stared slack-jawed at the tension crackling between the three of you.
And you didn't really want to stick around for when he eventually realized that you all had a threesome while he was asleep.
"I'm almost done packing," you muttered to the man by your side, anxiously readjusting the glittering ring around your finger as he squeezed your waist affectionately.
"Can I grab you anything? Or-"
"My toothbrush and stuff from the bathroom," you softly said, and he was already moving to go grab them.
"Is this it then?" Yuji asked, and you hated that you could hear him getting choked up despite how heated it had been a handful of minutes ago.
"Yeah," you mumbled, keeping your head down as you chewed the inside of your cheek, refusing to let on how much it was hurting you too. "I guess so."
You hadn't figured out what that would mean for the future even after you left. Satoru carrying your suitcase for you down the stairs and putting in the trunk of his car, opening the door for you and playing the perfect gentleman as he chattered about ordering some wings with the pizza tonight, maybe some chocolate lava cakes too.
But once you were all buckled and he was back on the road, one hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel, he was glancing over at the first stop sign, his pretty lips parting slowly, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," you lied reflexively, exhaling as you looked out the window. "I, um, don't know."
He squeezed your thigh, offering you one of those awkwardly apologetic smiles like he wasn't that good at comforting people. But he was trying. "They weren't being fair to you."
Were they?
Or were you all a little (lot) wrong?
You told yourself that at least it was over now.
That you'd done it.
No matter how fucking shitty it made you feel.
Even if your friendship had been beginning to fizzle out, Yuji had been there longer than anyone else. The one you always used to turn to when things were hard, the bright spot in your life when everything was dull and gray and dragging you down.
When had it started falling apart? When he hadn't told you about his brothers? When he started hanging out with Nobara and Megumi more than you? When he found out about you and Nanami?
Or was this just the fate for most friendships? To fade until he would someday be someone you used to know too?
An acquaintance you occasionally grabbed coffee with. A friend you saw twice a year to catch up, no matter how many times you swore you'd see them sooner next time.
Maybe the best thing you could do now was give him time and space. Send him a text next week or leave him a voicemail when things cooled off.
He'd probably chill out if he knew that you had only agreed to giving this marriage a six-month test drive, but for some reason, you didn't really want to admit that. Didn't want to give his concerns any validity by admitting that the morning after you had realized that you might've made a mistake.
Satoru didn't try to push you to talk about it. Gave you the space and changed the subject instead of dragging it out. Taking care of ordering the food for you when you got back to his apartment, clearing out half his closet for you to have more than enough space for your clothes in it, offering to put on a movie you mentioned you liked around him months ago, back when he first started pestering you with text messages.
Even if it didn't seem like there was space left for you in your old apartment, he made this one feel like your place already. Photos from your makeshift honeymoon already printed out and scattered on the counter, new cups and plates purchased like he had you in mind.
You changed into one of his t-shirts in his, or um, your shared room, your suitcase unzipped on his floor as you rifled through it for clean panties and a pair of pajama shorts as you heard him scolding Ijichi on the phone for letting the news about your marriage slip today to Yuji through the shut bathroom door.
Sighing, you walked back through the quiet apartment, peeking in through all the rooms before finding yourself in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking over the photos.
Most of them were of you.
Shots he snuck when you weren't looking, head turned away or distracted. They were all warm, filled with something that made your chest all fuzzy as you found the handful of photos where he had asked tourists to take of the two of you together. His hand on your hips or on your shoulders, keeping you pressed right against him as he beamed proudly, blue eyes glinting as he pointed to the ring on your finger in one of them.
"Food should be here in ten," his warm voice called out, pulling your attention back to planet Earth as you watched him walk around. He traded his button-up and slacks for sweatpants and a plain t-shirt you strongly suspected was deliberately a size too small judging by the way it clung to his shoulders and biceps. "You like those?"
"Yeah," you softly replied, picking up the most normal-looking one of the bunch. You looked happy in it. Had been happy in it. And not the forced, faking it, sort of happy you were used to convincing yourself you were. "I do."
When everything else fell to the wayside, when it was just you and him, you didn't think anything had ever felt better, actually.
"It's okay to not be okay, sweetheart," He murmured, seeing through your struggles, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and letting his heavy chest resting on your back as he squeezed you tight.
"I sorta wish I met you sooner," you muttered, voicing the thought before it had even fully surfaced in your mind.
"Yeah?" Satoru immediately latched onto it, amusement lifting his question as he leaned in somehow closer. "If you met me instead of Nanami, you think you would have given me a chance?"
You smiled to yourself, trying to consider what you might've done if he'd been the one at that bar offering to drive you home. Or if somehow Yuki would've set you up with him instead.
Would you still be his wife right now? Or maybe even sooner?
"You probably would've still had to work to get me," you hummed, a hint of teasing in your tone. He chuckled, and your chest constricted in response, heart speeding up at the warmth of his laughter.
"You think I wouldn't?" He huffed, feigning like you were wounding him with your hesitation.
"I dunno," you shrugged. "You might have decided I wasn't enough."
Maybe, if you had made it easier, he wouldn't have been so interested. You wouldn't be the prize he currently felt like you were if he didn't need to wait so long to have you.
But all your insecurities, the anxieties you were bottling up, were almost immediately dismissed by the next words that left his lips.
"You've always been enough for me."
Satoru seemed to have a knack for always saying exactly what you needed to hear. For being exactly the kind of guy you needed.
For loving you the way you never knew you wanted to be loved.
He brushed the hair off the nape of your neck, and you were already anticipating his touch, craving it. Breaking down the walls you once hastily constructed to board up your heart so that he could fill it back up. Aching for him to hold you and tell you that he wanted nothing more than to be yours so you could allow yourself to be his too.
"Want me to make you feel better?" He murmured, his soft lips pressed against your shoulder just above the collar of your shirt. Ghosting delicately over the tendon of your throat, sighing softly just so his warm breath would send a shiver down your spine.
"Please," you half-whispered back, shutting your eyes as he slowly began to trace careful kisses in a drawn-out line up your neck. It was torture, but it was tremendous and tantalizing and a thousand other things you were struggling to comprehend as you surrendered yourself to the moment.
To your husband.
His fingers touched you with a tenderness your heart no longer had a hard time accepting, his mouth devoted to making you moan and murder his name as he slyly tugged your shorts down, slipping two fingers along the band of your panties and humming happily to himself as he let the elastic snap back into your skin.
"My beautiful wife is sad," he murmured, his head pressed against yours, exhaling like your hurt hurt him too. "What should I do, hm?"
"Keep kissing me," you suggested, your voice coming out pitchy and high as your fingers gripped the counter for support, knees unfortunately wobbly as he used his own to spread your legs further apart.
"Where?" He lightly teased, one of his hands slipping around to the front, his palm pressing down just above your clit. "Here?"
Your face flushed, heat you were sure he could feel blossoming beneath your cheeks as his mouth moved to press an innocent peck above your collarbone.
"Or here?"
God, he knew just how to torment you. To drag it out and make you squirm as he adjusted the pressure on your already aching bundle of nerves, eagerly awaiting your response as a surprised squeak slipped out of you.
"That's not an answer, baby," he mocked, and if he wasn't so pretty and you weren't so tired, you would twist around and tell him that he wasn't being fair.
But you already learned that lesson about Satoru. He was never fair.
He got what he wanted. And that was you.
"I can get down on my knees right now for you," he continued, undeterred by your indecision, unaware that all his sweet talking was unfortunately a little too effective, a damp patch growing in your panties by the second as he talked to you in that low voice. "Suck on your clit and finger fuck you until you forget all about today."
A generous offer, really. But his impatience was beginning to rub off on you.
And there was an emptiness inside of you that you needed more than just his fingers to fill.
"I want you to fuck me," you murmured, staring down at the photos and trying to control your breathing only to hear his own hitch behind you.
It took a second for him to compose himself, but then your panties were being pulled down fast enough you weren't sure they would survive before he was babbling something about how you were killing him and he was trying to be romantic here blah blah blah, but all your brain was focusing on was the sensation of two digits dipping inside you, testing to make sure you were already soaked enough that he wouldn't hurt you.
Unable to resist the temptation to push in further, swirling around as he sighed and whined that he wanted you for dessert later then, his appetite apparently bottomless when it came to how many ways he could have you.
He didn't make you wait long, pulling his fingers back out and popping them into his mouth to suck them clean as you threw him an arched brow over your shoulder.
"Go ahead," he huffed, pouting at you as you resisted a giggle. "Say it."
"You're insatiable," you accused.
"Only for you."
You wondered what it was about you that made him feel that way.
Was it too much to hope it would never go away?
His cock slid between your slick entrance, and he got a little too much in playing with you, pushing it back-and-forth, shimmying his hips while he went back to kissing your throat.
It would be a lie to say you didn't like it. That you weren't about to giggle a little when he half-whispered that he could probably cum just doing this, holding it in just for him to finally slot himself inside you.
You were immediately giving into him, folding forward just for him to grab your hair with his free hand and pull it back light enough to not hurt, but to refuse to let you run or squirm away.
"Uh-uh," he murmured, tilting your head to the side enough that he had better access to sink his teeth into your throat in a heated love bite, inch after inch of his cock shoving in as your body easily acclimated him. Moaning softly at how right all of it felt, melting for him as he easily pushed his way deeper. Familiar territory you were both treading, even though this felt different somehow. "You're all mine right now, sweetheart."
"Just right now?" You asked, although it came out as a thin gasp, eyes rolling back right as he bottomed out, cock stretching you effortlessly out, molding you to his shape as his laugh morphed into a thick groan.
"Forever, if you'll let me have it," he immediately responded, like it was a vow he hadn't gotten the chance to say at your wedding.
Forever.
Since when had it stopped sounding so scary?
He fucked you soft and slow, nudging your shirt up and running his hand over the tattoo you'd gotten for him, rutting into you a little harder every time his thumb dragged over the outline of it.
Drinking up your moans and making a feast out of your neck and jaw, and you couldn't even bring yourself to tell him to not leave marks, not when any word you tried to get out just ended up in a mushy whine you couldn't control.
Thighs trembling, barely supporting yourself when he let go of your hair to start playing with your tits instead, adoring every piece of yourself that you allowed him to have.
Pleasure warping your brain until you felt like a puddle, heat coiling and curling until it was all that you were, bent forward and whimpering for him as he filled you up so completely.
"Y-you can't just make sounds like that, pretty baby," he purred, struggling to sound composed when his voice cracked at the first word, stuttering though it as his hips drilled back down into your ass.
"Or what?" You teased back, a funny tickling feeling crawling up your throat as air wheezed through it.
Your husband wasn't satisfied to just take you from behind, pulling out to hear your soft whine before flipping you around and crashing his lips against yours to swallow the sound himself.
Hands on your ass hoisting you up, picking you up and pinning your body between him and the counter. And you were kissing him back just as hard, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself on it.
And for a second, you almost asked yourself why the hell it had taken you so long to let him in like this.
But then he was pushing his cock back in, some invisible string tying itself in a tight knot around your heart as the rest of the world fizzled out until it was just this.
Just his hands and his mouth and his cock.
Crammed full while he practically coddled you, reaching up to cup your cheek as he murmured desperate promises between kisses.
Claiming you like he couldn't stand the idea of you being anyone else's. Wearing his heart on his sleeve so that you could have it. Maybe it had taken him a little longer to win you over, but he had won.
"I love you," he blurted it out, and you knew he really meant it. That he was not the sort of man who would ever take it back. Not even when he just said it mid-thrust.
But his eyes still widened, all worried like he thought you would ask him to pull out and then never speak to him again, but you just nodded nervously, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his lips.
"You can say it again," you muttered.
He already had your name on his back.
You sorta doubted he could make this more serious than that.
"I love you so fuckin' much," he breathed again, pulling you closer and practically grinding his cock deep enough you could nearly feel him rubbing up against your cervix, prodding against the spongy spot with a desperation you were a little embarrassed to share.
A fever burning beneath your skin you were sure that he'd soothe, pleasure pulling you closer to a climax as you nodded, unable to actually bring yourself to say the same words, even if you sorta wanted to just so he wouldn't be disappointed in you.
"My girl, my wife," he continued, rambling as his pupils widened, only a thin strip of blue visible as he called out your name like it was the last thread holding him together.
"My husband," you murmured back, letting a hint of your own pride slipping through as you reached up to caress his cheek, gently brushing your fingertips over his soft skin as he let out a long whimper that left your stomach in knots.
And before you fully realized it, he was cumming inside you, warm ropes of cum filling you up as he rushed to start rubbing your clit to get you to finish too.
"S-shit, I'm sorry, oh god," he whispered, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his thumb twitching while he painted patterns over it.
You'd like to say that it was just that his touch that pushed you over, but it was how cute he looked, his white brows pulled together tightly as he put himself on the same level as you, giving you those pretty puppy dog eyes while you wilted into his touch.
So wrapped up in him you could barely breathe, barely process where your body started and his ended when every piece of you felt so connected.
"S'okay," you tried to reassure him right as stars flashed behind your vision, scrunching your eyes shut as he coaxed you through the wave of pleasure, just pumping his cock in deeper and pushing the cum back in as yours walls squeezed tight around him.
You didn't know how badly you wanted to stay like that until it was over.
Until he started to pull out and you found yourself wrapping your legs around his waist and digging the base of your foot into his back to keep him inside of you.
“I forgot the condom,” he mumbled, burying his face in your throat like he was embarrassed and pressing more feather-light kisses across it like little apologies. “I think I still have that extra Plan B in the bathroom.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured back, repeating yourself and running your fingers through his hair as you found yourself cradling his head closer.
You would take it, and everything would be fine.
A neat little slideshow of the next few months playing in your head as you caught your breath, feeling his cock throb and twitch as you pictured your new routine.
Waking up next to him and showering together before work. Coming home to takeout or cooking dinner. Curling up on his couch and having lazy sex on practically every available surface until there wasn't a space left you hadn't fucked. Falling asleep in his arms.
Would all of that really be so wrong?
Letting yourself get lost in this domesticity? Truly give the whole wife thing a try since you were having such a hard time just being a girlfriend anyway?
"So, do you like rent this place or own it?" You asked, looking around it and picturing whether or not you'd still be living here a year from now when you were having an awfully hard time imagining leaving.
"It's all mine, baby," he proudly proclaimed, leaning down so his nose was nuzzling against your own. "And yours now too."
"We should paint it then," you muttered, tilting your head to the side as he grinned.
"My wife has such great ideas," he hummed, and you couldn't believe how much you were starting to like him saying that.
"How long until you get sick of calling me that?" You murmured, swallowing hard and knowing what answer you were already hoping for.
You and Satoru Gojo - your best friend since grade school - had just one night, a bad break up, a bunch of drinks, but you promised to not let it ruin your friendship. That is, until a couple months later, when telltale lines show - you're pregnant with your best friend's baby! Panicked, you find Satoru is not nearly as upset as you thought - in fact, he is supportive and sweet. Just what you need, but the tension is there, and you don't know what is 'as a friend' or 'helping out' or what is more.
pairings - best friend! gojo x f! reader
warnings - mdni, oral, fingering, pregnancy, squirting, creampie, a bunch of fluff, friends to lovers, pregnant sex, oral fixation, soooo cute, nerdy/sweet and soft Satoru, mentions of insecurities w/reader, tension, mutual pining, happy ever after - wc- 8.1k
this won the poll hehe, late father's day oneshots - ty to my bb @lizatonix for proofreading againnn <3 Art by @mango on x
You're fucking pregnant.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Staring at that stick, your hands are trembling, gasping and dropping it as you look right at those two tell-tale lines, of the one and only time you and your best friend had sex. A terrible night where you were both broken up with, where you all had agreed just once, to take care of each other, to feel better.
Where the best friend you've had your entire life had rutted his cock into your needy cunt, and pressed your face down into the plush of your mattress. Where you'd arched up and he'd sucked in a breath when that damn condom broke, cursing as he pulled back.
The night you all didn't have another one– and you told him -
Fuck me.
Just fuck me and pull out… please?
The night he did just that - you know he had pulled out, especially when you had felt those sticky ropes of cum up your skin, painting your back with white. You had already been squirting right before, so sensitive, he'd rubbed his tip up and down your slit to get you to do it again, and again, before cleaning you up.
The night you had lost yourself, both of you tipsy, giggling and fumbling until he hit you with those mean fucking strokes, the ones that had you breathless. The night that plays over and over in your head on repeat, and won't stop, but you'd gone back to normal - stayed best friends, kept that agreement.
Until you felt sick two months later, dizzy from one little drink, your nipples aching.
And now...
The phone rings and you jump, looking and seeing his name, fingers trembling as you look from the phone to the stick, over and over.
How do you tell your best friend that he knocked you up!?
“Um.. hi?”
“Hey,” Satoru’s rubbing the back of his neck, pacing back and forth. Since that night a couple months ago you’ve barely hung out – he wants to say it’s because college is over, because you both have your own lives.
Yet he worries he fucked it all up that night.
But how could he not give you his cock, fuck into your needy, wet little cunt? How could he not have you cum all over him, ass arching so fucking pretty, god it looked like a heart from that angle. He has it in his head as he jerks it to you – feeling like the worst friend on the planet.
He’d beg to have you again, but he knows he can’t – he knows he needs to stay distant, to be your friend. One night where he let down his guard and whimpered an “I love you” was enough – you both were tipsy, and you were cummin’ too hard to hear it, the little confession.
The next day you were back to normal, but he’d felt you quiver around him, he’d watched you drool as he drilled his cock mean into your hole – tip bruising that cute cervix. Pulling out was a tragedy – but he was happy that fucking condom snapped, sadistic as it was for sweet, nerdy Satoru Gojo.
He wished he could have filled you with all those creampies.
“I made everything weird, yeah? That night-”
“No! No, no, it’s not that. I just…” You trail off, and he feels his heart hammering, pulse racing with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”
“Is anything wrong!?”
“No, yes – well…” You sigh again. “I’m coming over if that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
“Maybe um, smoke some weed first? Have a drink?”
Satoru pauses. “How bad is the news?”
“Just get… relaxed first.”
*****
“You’re… pregnant?” He manages to ask, eyes locked onto you as you pace back and forth in his living room. “You’re sure?”
“I need an official test, but yes,” you keep pacing now, shaking your head, sighing. “I was ovulating, I should have known better. Ugh! And now… Toru, you don’t have to help if I keep it, okay? I don’t want you thinking I like did this to get something, like because you’re rich or-”
“Excuse me?” He stands now, walking to you, gripping your shoulders gently, turning you to face him. “When would I ever think that about you?”
“But so many women would fucking do that to you,” you whisper, eyes full of tears. “And I know you’re scared of that. I know it’s why you’re cautious with dating anyone.”
That’s part of it.
The other part is he compares them all to you.
“I know it’s an accident, fuck I’m just as responsible, I was more than happy to fuck you without one,” you flush then, and he clears his throat. “Sorry, I know we aren’t supposed to bring it up.”
“Hard not to, now,” you sigh, letting him cup your face. “I’m so sorry. Really, I know you have so much on your plate, and-”
“Stop apologizing.”
“You’re taking this way better than I thought,” you admit softly, letting him hug you, sinking against his warmth. “I thought you’d panic, or worse… hate me.”
“I’d never hate you,” he whispers, his mind rushing a million miles a minute – of course it’s scary, and of course he has no clue about kids at all. He doesn’t even know what you’ll wanna do, but fuck if he won’t support his best friend – the girl he’s been pining for secretly for years.
He sure couldn’t bring any of that up now, not when you need support, when you need him to just be there.
“We need to make a doctor’s appointment, yeah?”
“I already did,” you sniffle, and he swipes your tears. “Do you wanna come with me?”
“Of course I do,” his brows draw together. “You’ve known me since we were babies almost, you really think I’d let you do this alone?”
“I knew you wouldn’t, but to resent me,” you trail off now, emotions burning in your throat. “I really always wanted one. Not now, but, I did.”
“Yeah, me too,” you blink a bit. “Didn’t know that?”
“You never talked about it to me,” you sniffle again, nausea suddenly hitting you, making you sway a bit. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m gonna…” you rush off then to one of his bathrooms, not one of your finer moments, and as a best friend always does, he holds your hair while you’re sick – it’s not like he hasn’t done it at high school keg parties, or the beginning of college for you – but it’s been a while since you’ve needed it. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, please,” he sighs now, standing. “I’ll get you something for your tummy, you have a toothbrush you can use under the sink, okay?”
“Thank you, Toru,” you hang your head as he walks out, soon you’re on his couch with your legs over his thighs, you all frequently sit like that – but now everything is different. He’s got you nibbling on saltines, and a ginger ale – he’d door dashed them so fast you were surprised.
Then you found out it wasn’t doordash – it was just Ijichi.
Poor Ijichi, really, but you suppose he’s paid well to be at Gojo’s beck and call all the time.
“I’ll throw it up again.” You nibble, little teeth marks on the cracker as you try to chew it a bit. “I keep getting sick.”
“How will you grow a baby if you don’t eat, hmm?” His words hit hard, the sweetness in them, the way he’s looking right at you. “Chew.”
“Yes sir,” you mumble, chewing again.
“Swallow.”
“Don’t say that!?” You’re choking almost on that cracker now as he snorts, smirking just a bit and leaning close.
“Oh, why not? Mind somewhere?” He teases, as if it’s just another day, and watches you get all flustered, playfully shoving him. “Perv.”
“Me!? You got me pregnant!”
“Well, you told me to keep going.”
“You little shit,” he shoves the ginger ale can in your hand again, narrowing those baby blues.
“Drink.”
“Just don’t say swallow, god,” he snorts and rolls his eyes a bit, leaning back on the couch, you see it’s getting dark outside now. “I need to head back soon.”
“Just stay,” it was normal to stay, before that night, before you knew how good his lips felt on your shoulders, his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck, cock railing your cunt from behind.
It was not normal anymore.
You look at his lips, wondering what it would be like to press yours on them, they were soft on your skin, but things were so hasty you both didn’t do that. Probably for the best, they were too plump and glossy, unfairly pretty like all of Satoru Gojo was, really, best you don’t even think of it.
“I should go,” you finally manage to say, and Satoru frowns. “I really have a lot to do tomorrow with work.”
Work.
He forgets you have your summer job, concern hitting his features then. “In your condition?”
“I’m barely pregnant, silly,” you playfully push him again, standing now. “I will see you at the appointment?”
“Of course,” he hugs you a little too long at the door, he can tell you’re fucking terrified as you hug him back, but…
Satoru’s not upset, at all actually.
Instead, he orders anything and everything a baby could need, and a million baby books, studying everything there was to know, picturing it all.
No, he was…
Excited.
Terrified but fucking excited to think of it – of the one girl he’s always loved carrying his baby, but he tries to rein it all in, the last thing he needs to do is pressure you either way with any decision. So instead, when you text him the details and a little good night with a heart, he simply writes back –
See you then. Night, sweetheart
Before studying again like a little psycho all night – by the time your visit comes, Satoru Gojo is an entire fucking expert on everything pregnancy related, in fact. What else was a best friend for, really, if not to support you with everything?
And if in the next week he jerks it hopelessly to the thought of fucking you and cumming in you, well…
He can’t really help that.
*****
The next week
The gel is cold against your skin as the doctor spreads it across your stomach with the little wand, your shirt slid up to your chest, showing a tummy still mostly flat.. Gojo sits beside you, his hand clenched in yours, his face paler than usual despite how supportive he is being.
You've both been quiet since arriving at the doctor, even in the back of his car as his driver brought you, there was not much said. He tried to lighten the mood by showing you videos of dumb things, but when it didn’t work, and he knew you needed the quiet? He gave you it, just keeping a hand touching your thigh the entire ride.
Comforting, he was comforting you – as the reality of this situation was sinking deeper with each passing moment.
A baby.
Would you have it? Would you keep it? Part of you has always loved kids, but you never expected to be a mother yet, especially not being married or at least with someone. Not your best friend – and was he still going to be that? Would he resent you for your decision, would-
"Alright, let's see what we can find," the doctor says, moving the wand across your belly and thankfully cutting off your thoughts. “Hmm… let’s try here.”
You stare at the screen as he delves lower, pressing a bit on your pelvis – your heart is pounding so quickly you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. There's just static for some time, and you feel yourself getting sick as Satoru watches with you, seeing the shape of your uterus right on the screen.
Fuck - what if something’s wrong!? What if…
“Hey,” Satoru smiles at you, feeling your panic – he’s always known you so fucking well, and now is no different. He runs his thumb across your knuckles softly. “Hear that?”
“No I…” There it is.
A flicker. A tiny, rapid fluttering on the screen, and the sounds, little whooshes quickly echoing in the room, it’s so fast, you can’t take what it does to you in that moment, feeling tears in your eyes. “See?”
“A heartbeat…” You whisper, he grins all big, his teeth white and bright, that smile fucking ruining you.
Another pregnancy symptom?
Apparently being too fucking horny – and being around Gojo made everything a million times worse. Did he have to be so attractive? Did he have to smell so damn good? Did he have to hold your hand like this with his pretty blue eyes glittering, like he’s got it all together when you don’t?
How were you ever just his friend before, you always had something for him, sure. High school crush, college crush, puppy love – but through it all you always knew that friendship was the most important thing. Yet now you know what it’s like for him to grip your hips, to hold you, to bend you over and break you apart on him. To have his body on top of you.
How could you forget it when you’ll be seeing him constantly for years?
"That's the heartbeat," the doctor says with a smile, shaking you out of your heated thoughts. "Strong and healthy. Looks like you're about ten weeks along."
Tears spring to your eyes as you turn to look at Satoru, seeing his own are affixed now to the screen, his lips slightly parted. He looks from the screen to your stomach, then back again, his expression one of pure awe.
"Is that… that’s the baby?”
“Yes, it’s hard to see this early,” the doctor takes a few pictures, it’s a tiny, moving little thing, so small it’s hard to tell.
“That's our baby,” you whisper, then curse softly. “I mean…”
“Shh,” Satoru murmurs, his own heart hammering so fast he almost feels faint. He was of course nervous, but seeing it and seeing you – the girl he’s loved as long as he can remember? He can’t help his dopey fucking grin. “It is.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, all pretty, flushed cheeks, blushing when Satoru offers to clean the gel off your tummy and you sit up, it squishes just a bit, making you curse. “Ugh, already.”
“You look perfect,” he says it before he can stop himself, his hand moving gently to wipe your skin clean, you look down, thighs pressing together, as his eyes flick to yours. “You’ll be pretty, all pregnant.”
“No way, my mom got huge and I will too!”
“So? It’s part of that,” you frown again. “Hey.”
“Yeah?” He tilts your chin as you slide your shirt down.
“What’s going on in your mind right now?”
“That I’m selfish, self centered to think of my body,” you pout a bit. “Stretch marks, titties getting so big, tummy huge. God, my ankles will too! My friends have all been so miserable, ugh. And I should worry less about that, and more about how I’ll raise this damn baby. Am I…”
“Shh,” he kisses your temple now, and you lean against him, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re in your early twenties, pretty normal to be worried about your body changing, I don’t think that’s selfish. Okay?”
“You always make me feel better,” you snuggle against him, loving this too fucking much, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth.
“What are friends for? Besides… getting you pregnant I mean.”
“Satoru!”
“Well…” You snort and shove at him, shaking your head. “When’s the next appointment?”
“Two weeks for a physical type check… do you…”
“I’ll be there.”
*****
The next physical went great, and Satoru’s been reading even more baby books – you’d decided to keep it and had let him know it was his choice, of course, if he wanted to be involved. Because this was both your choices.
Of course Satoru did.
There was no world he’d ever let you do this alone and not support you – though he doesn’t tell you exactly how excited he really is, he is so nervous in these moments, especially knowing how scared you still are. So he tries to be comforting, reassuring, there for you.
He was right there on time, taking you there, and fuck he looked good. He had on this sweater that was so soft you wanted to snuggle against it, that cologne in your senses, almost making you salivate.
Fuck.
As if you didn’t want him before, at three months pregnant it was worse than ovulation, it was like you needed to cum constantly. You’d played with your pussy every day to avoid this, to hope that you could act normal with him, but when he’d brushed this tiny stretch mark on your skin and smiled?
When he’d murmured cute.
When he held the door open for you, sliding in and talking about everything he’s researched on babies? Well, that’s when it’s almost fucking impossible to control, thighs pressed together with your hands between them, as if you can keep yourself from touching him somehow on the drive back.
You're impossibly quiet in the back seat of his sleek black car, Ijichi drives Gojo everywhere, you’re not even sure Satoru can drive – there’s no point really though. You don’t blame him one bit, but it was always pretty fucking cool in school to get those rides home with him – memories twist and blur just a bit as he brushes a lock of your hair back, smiling at you.
You shift uncomfortably, trying to discreetly press your thighs together even more, to not just straight up whine out from the friction, but it's no use. You're so horny it hurts, your panties soaked to all hell, your clit pulsing with need, literally twitching from his proximity.
What sort of pregnancy thing was this? This wasn’t in a book.
"You okay, sweetheart?” Satoru asks softly now, glancing over at you. "You've been squirming, are you uncomfy? I think cramps can still happen – and your back can hurt from it. I can rub it?"
“No! I mean!? No!? I mean…” You curse, shaking your head. "I'm fine is all I meant!”
“Fine?” You nod quickly, making him sigh. “Am I being too touchy with you? Offering to-”
“No, no. God I appreciate you so much, never,” you mumble, shaking your head. “It’s not that at all.”
“Okay…” He exhales now.
“You thought that?”
“You’re so tense around me,” he brushes his hand against your thigh softly. “Like you’re clenched up, I worried I…”
“No… I’m just… not okay.”
"What's wrong?" he asks, brows furrowing just a bit. "Are you in any pain or anything? I need to know if you are."
"Not exactly," you admit, your cheeks flushing, burning fucking hot, god is this car just hot!? Is his skin burning!? "It's just... I'm really... uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable how? I can turn up the AC, and you can lean on me?”
You hesitate a bit, he’s being so fucking sweet, and you feel like a deviant right now. Your brain is on nothing but how long his fingers are, how good they’d feel inside you, fuck when you’d been together you’re not sure he touched you much. He had slipped them in for a moment but you were so needy you had begged him to put it in.
Oh and that stretch.
But they’re long, and they’re thick, thumb brushing your thigh. You sigh, shutting your eyes again.
“You know you can tell me anything, yeah? Known you since the fucking fifth grade, now is not time to get shy.”
“Right…” You take a shaky breath. “It’s embarrassing."
“Okay, how?”
"I'm horny," you blurt it out, watching his own blush, cursing a bit. "Like, painfully horny. I feel like I will jump you, straddle you, fuck your hands are so big and… Satoru, were they always this big!?”
“Were they…” He laughs nervously. “What?
“Were they always this big – and why do you smell like that?” He blushes brighter as you lean forward, your hand covering his. “I’m going to lose it, I can’t act like this, but it’s like I’m going to die if I don’t cum. I’m wet from nothing.”
Oh fuck.
He can’t take that, looking at you as you lean forward, your tits are right in his view, that sleeve falling off your off shoulder sweater, showing too much of your pretty skin. He swallows nervously, it takes everything not to just drag you on his lap and pump you full of cum.
God, what would your nipples look like dripping milk? How big and full would your tits get? He feels like he’s the pervert, and you’re over here worrying, he can see it as you pull back just a bit.
"Oh. That's... that's a thing? With pregnancy?” He tries to act calm, cock throbbing.
"Apparently," you mutter, shifting again. "And it's fucking awful right now, I am not trying to be… distant, okay? I…”
The car hits a bump and you whine out.
“Ugh!” You cover your face, Satoru is quiet for a moment, then clears his throat, taking your hands down slowly, making you look at him. “This is embarrassing!"
“Nah, it’s… just…” He swallows a bit, nervous as his fingers wrap around your delicate wrists. "I could... I mean, if it would help... I could help you out. As a friend if you um… want? As… a baby daddy… friend or-"
You blink then. "What?"
"Just... to take the edge off I could help you feel better," he murmurs, his cheeks still slightly flushed, eyes dark. "I helped you get in this state, I could at least help you with this, to make you cum, hmm?”
“Make me cum?” You’re trembling a bit at that. “Like and… it’s fine with you?”
“Is it fine with me,” he laughs a bit, shaking his head, tilting your chin up. “You askin’ if I have a problem making you cum for me?”
“I just,” you bury your face against his chest, his hand slipping up your thigh achingly slow. “Make me cum how?”
“You keep staring at my hands, do you want my fingers inside you?” You suck in a breath, burying your face again, feeling his thumb brushing your skin. “What else is your best friend for, hmm?"
“Satoru,” you laugh softly, biting down on your lip, peeking over at the partition. “Would he hear?”
“You were loud,” you gasp and playfully shove at him. “I’m kidding… kind of. You really were.”
“I’ll be a little quiet,” you whisper. “You were loud too.”
“Brat, tch,” you giggle, and it feels perfect.
Satoru is your best friend.
Satoru got you pregnant.
Now Satoru Gojo’s fingers are sliding up your thighs, his fingertips tugging at the waistband of those leggings, you love wearing them lately, with your body already changing just a bit. “Are you sure you want me to?”
“Yes,” you whisper, a hand slipping up his chest, shaky just a bit as his fingertips slip lower. “Helping me as my friend.”
“Best friend.”
“Best ever,” you whisper – delusional – nodding so he has the okay, his fingers are just a bit hesitant at first, gently tracing the edge of your panties before slipping underneath, finding you. “Mnh!”
You gasp as his fingers brush against your folds, already slick with arousal, embarrassingly so in fact – so wet the squelch is loud as he darts it up your slit, Satoru moans softly, looking into your eyes and slipping lower. His fingertip dips in, and even more slick drips out, your panties already sticky, he lets out a little hum, running them up, studying you.
You shake your head in response, spreading your thighs wide for his fingers to explore you, he finds your clit easily, circling it gently and all teasing, making you whine out in frustration before applying more pressure, drawing patterns like he had that night months ago.
“Satoru!” You whisper it, trying to keep quiet as you arch against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your lips again, hands gripping at his sweater too tightly.
"Like that?" he asks, his voice soft, god does he have to sound like that? You’re trying to keep it together, but the faster his fingers rub your twitchy lil clit, the worse.
"Yes, y-yes like that I…. mhm!”
He knows your body, he has no problem sliding two in deep, curving up and letting the heel of his palm graze your needy clit, squishing noises even louder as he watches you, waiting for you to fall apart for him.
“So wet,” he murmurs, moving faster. “You’re close, hmm?”
You nod quickly, letting him lean forward – as if he may kiss you, just hovering a centimeter away as he works your cunt, lifting his chin and looking down at you, eyes hungry and bright blue.
“Then cum, let go,” he whispers, and you do it like on command, earning his soft, murmured praise, orgasm rushing through you until you’re high from it, resting your face against his neck.
“Toru,” you breathe out, eyes shutting, the orgasm so much better than what you can do yourself.
"Better?" he asks softly, pulling his fingers back just a bit, eyeing that slick and moaning. “Fuck…”
"Much better,” you mumble, seeing that amount of slickness and panicking. “Oh god sorry…”
“For what? Being soaked?” He smirks a bit. “No need.”
“I um…” He sucks your cunt off his fingers, making your lips part at the filthy little act, something you’ve never seen with any other partner.
He just tasted your cunt, his cheeks hollowing.
“I um… you uh…” Words. Use words. “I… th-thhank you?"
"Anytime," he says with a small smile, chuckling a bit as your flavor hits his tastebuds. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you hurt like that?”
“Right, you’re winning the best friend – baby daddy award,” he snorts, and the two of you act fine, act as if this was just that.
You’re both too fucking scared to admit what it really is.
*****
A month later
You're staying over at Gojo's place again – it's become more frequent since the pregnancy was confirmed. The two of you spend a lot of time together, preparing a bit or just enjoying each other’s company. You had to tell your families, which was not an easy conversation, especially with Satoru’s parents.
They’d been appalled quite frankly, Satoru was supposed to marry who they wanted him to, they were anything if not distant and terrible as long as you knew him. You’d held his hand that night during that dinner, and asked if he wanted you to stay over again, quiet as you both drove home.
“You don’t have to,” he murmured softly, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, I expected much worse.”
“I still want to,” you had said, kissing his cheek, your eyes fluttering shut, his hand had instinctively touched your tummy, getting rounder now, something so intimate and sweet it almost broke you.
You hated going home alone.
There were plenty of rooms – but tonight you couldn’t just sleep in one, tossing and turning until you got up in the middle of the night, peeking to see Satoru asleep, sprawled across his bed with his lankly limbs – the sheets tangled around his waist. You watch him for a moment, you’ve seen him asleep countless times, but everything lately has felt so different.
“Toru?”
“Hmm?” He opens his eye and turns, peeking at you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
His voice is all raspy with sleep, making your heart flutter. God he’s even cuter, leaning up in the dark, brushing a hand through his hair with a sleepy smile. “Could I sleep in your bed?”
“You want the comfiest one, hmm?” He teases, holding up the blanket for you to crawl in beside him. “Come closer.”
“You sure?” He nods, tugging you against him and sighing, burying his face in your neck. “Will it be too much?”
“No, not at all,” he feels so good, he’s so warm, his body against yours. “Get some sleep.”
But sleep still eludes you, you instead can’t stop thinking of how badly you crave not any kind of food or drink like a normal pregnant girl.
You’re craving Satoru.
God, thinking of that hardness pressing against you in your mouth, to taste him for once, feel him harden on your tongue and pulse. Swallow him down, suck him till he’s whimpering, cumming over and over?
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, hmm?” He teases you again. “I feel your brain whirling over there.
“I’m having an odd craving,” you mumble, turning over to him now, he raises a brow at you, yawning.
“I’ll order whatever, what is it?”
“You can’t order it,” you bite your lip now, and he laughs.
“You want me to make you cum again?”
“No.”
“No?” You slide down the bed, gently pulling back the sheets a bit, and his breath catches in his throat. He's only wearing boxers, and you can already see the outline of his cock, thick and growing, a little dark spot where pre is slipping. “Oh you… you’re craving…”
“I really want your cock in my mouth.”
Is Satoru fucking dreaming!?
He wonders as he blinks rapidly at you, your fingertips trailing his abdomen, making them tense. “You want my cock in your mouth?”
“Yeah, that sounds insane. I want…” You sigh. “Cum.”
“Cum!? Is that even safe!?”
“I don’t know, that’s not in a book!” You pull back now, sighing. “God I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, don’t go,” he catches your wrist quickly, tugging you against him. “I would never turn down your mouth, you fuckin’ kidding?”
“You sure?”
“Am I sure,” he shuts his eyes, trying not to act as eager as he really is, and completely failing. “In what world does anyone turn that down? Especially from you.”
“You want it then?” You whisper, reaching out to trace the length of him through the soft fabric, he whimpers just a bit, the sound making you ache.
“You really wanna suck me till I cum? You don’t want like… ice cream with pickles or something?” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and he tugs you more, your hair falling against his skin, brushing his thigh. “Yeah, go ahead then, sweetheart. You can suck me any time you need.”
“Oh can I?” His hand brushes your hair back reverently as he tugs his cock out, he’s close to telling you he’s in love just when you kiss his flushed tip, tongue lapping to grab a little bit of white.
“Anytime,”he murmurs again instead, watching as you gently take the tip of him into your mouth, hot and wet. “Fuck…”
“Mnh,” you’re aching as you eye him, and his hand entangles gently into your hair, easing your head down so you can taste him – clean and slightly salty with the white coating your tastebuds. You moan softly as you take more of him in, your tongue swirling around to hit his frenum, making his hips buck up.
“God… so this is really your pregnancy craving?"
You hum around him in response, which makes him groan, thickening in your mouth as you move up and down, reaching for your pussy and touching it, letting him fuck into your throat, pausing then.
“Is it too much?”
You pull back with a messy pop, shaking your head. “I want it.”
“Fuck you’re pretty like this,” he whispers, his hand gentle but firm on the back of your head as you work him with your mouth, taking him deeper with each pass until he's hitting the back of your throat, and you’re gagging on him. “Takin’ me like that? So fucking good, doin’ s’good I…”
He’s mumbling, stuttering as he fucks your throat – just like you were dying for, making you suck harder, aching to taste all of him. Him whispering your name as you drool down his balls, his tip gliding past your uvula, while your fingers fuck in and out of your needy cunt.
“You’re touching her?” He asks softly, you hum in response, he’s lost at how good your throat feels, how tight with every little gasp. “Sucking me has you that needy, hmm?”
“Mhm,” you suck even harder, and he fears he won’t last long, not when you’re cumming, shaking and your throat is contracting, his thick length stretching it so good.
“Want all of that cum in your throat?” He whispers hoarsely, you moan again, eyes looking up under your lashes as he holds your hair in a ponytail. “I’ll give you all of it, then, sweetheart.”
He is not quiet when he cums, no, Satoru Gojo moans – husky and fucking loutd as his hips buck up, and he’s busting his creamy release. It’s spilling down your throat, and you greedily swallow every drop, slurping it all as he gently fucks your throat a few more times, whining out, sensitive.
You take your fingers of your cunt, slick and messy, sucking him up and down, still semi hard, eyes locked on his.
You just sucked Satoru Gojo’s cock.
Your friend since fifth grade.
You pull off, a thick string of saliva and cum dissolving from your licks, as your little pink tongue then gently licks him clean.
“You’re so perfect I…” He trails off, swallowing nervously and then tugging you up. “C’mere.”
You gasp as you land on his chest, and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your lips, tasting his own cum right off you.
You haven’t even kissed Satoru yet.
That’s what’s insane, you’ve gotten pregnant, you’ve fucked him, came on his fingers, but it was as if you both knew the kiss would ruin you, and it does, desperate, needy and sweet. How his hand tangles in your hair, and his lips move, plump and soft against yours.
That’s when the inevitable fact hits your heart – you didn’t just crave cum in your mouth, you wanted to make him feel good, wanted him to fall apart for you, his tongue glides on yours and you can’t help but sigh into his mouth. You lean up a bit, hands on his chest, a smile so big and goofy on his face you melt.
“So, was that just a craving?”
“Were your fingers just helping a friend out?” You ask, he laughs and shakes his head, cupping your face.
“What do you think?” You bury your face nervously, letting him hold you against his body, your heart racing.
“I think everything is insane. And scary and… I don’t ever, ever want to lose you, Satoru.”
“You won’t,” he whispers, kissing gently across your cheek, to your temple, but the words still don’t make it from his lips.
I love you.
It’s like they’re stuck, until you’re fast asleep, and he murmurs them like he did that night you conceived your baby.
*****
It goes on like that, sucking Satoru for your oral fixation, and fuck he’s not complaining, but soon it’s not enough, neither is you letting him finger you when you’re aching. You’re so sexy with your tummy swelling, and your tits so full, your face is glowing and your goddamn eyes are glittering.
You are sinking to your knees after work at your place when he halts you, shaking his head, making you pause.
“Oh um, not today?”
“You stand here,” he says instead, kneeling and making you blush, looking up at you under his snowy lashes. “I want to taste you this time.”
“Toru, you c-can’t… I’m getting big already and-”
“You’re perfect,” you melt when he gently slides up your dress, groaning when he sees your slick, pretty pussy. “Call it my pregnancy craving.”
“You got ‘em too, hmm?” he laughs softly, tickling your skin.
“Why don’t you sit down and spread your thighs,” you obey him – how can you not – sitting at the edge of the bed, eyeing the reflection of you both in your mirror for just a moment, the sight as filthy as it is sweet, worshipping you when he kisses up your inner thigh. “Good girl.”
“You can’t just say that, Toru,” he doesn’t know what it does until this very moment, when he spreads your plump lips, watching the slick pool down, so fucking pretty. His hand brushes up the curve of your tummy, tongue gathering that mess and drinking it with a greedy bob of his Adam's apple. “Mnh!”
“Fuck,” Satoru’s lost now – hand adjusting his straining erection, his other slipping higher, squishing a tit, feeling the weight of it in his palm as he looks up at your body, your face, head falling back.
You’re too pretty pregnant.
All he can think is how he’s almost glad you are right now, he knows it was an ‘accident’ but he’s so fucking happy, having you with him all the time, having your touch, your nearness. Seeing all the changes and knowing in this way the two of you are connected, a toxic little thought nagging at him that he’d love to do it again, next time on purpose.
Maybe he’s very happy pulling out didn’t work, and that the condom broke, when his fingers press into your thighs, and he’s greedily slurping at your cunt now. All gentleness lost as your flavors hit, ones he’s had little hints of at best, watching you suck him was amazing, but Satoru thinks he loves this just as much if not more, drinking your cunt up as you tremble, as you fall apart.
“I’m c-close, fuck I’m…” You’re pressing your thighs on either side, he pulls back, your wetness making his face glisten.
“Hold ‘em open,” he murmurs softly, you prop your feet up on the bed as he sinks further onto the plush of your rug. “Just like that.”
“I’m spread wide though…”
“And you were when I got you this way,” he grins as you blush. “You wouldn’t let me touch you, it was just – in me.”
“Well I wanna say it again,” you admit softly. “But also…”
You tug his hair, bringing his face against you, his moans vibrating on your messy, sensitive clit. Satoru slides two fingers in and fucks them in your hole, slick and drooling onto the carpet with every thrust, his mouth sucking your little clit inside it. A few more flicks and hums, and you’re shattering, cumming so hard you squirt all over him, soaking his shirt.
“Fuck…” He looks at you in wonder, you gasp, covering your face.
“Oh god!? I’ve never…”
“Good,” he is possessive then, as he stands up, sliding your dress until it’s off you completely, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “I’m glad if I made you first.”
“Are you getting possessive of your ‘friend’?” You tease – you both know the word is nonsense at this point, but you’re also scared to say more.
That you’re in love with him.
“Maybe I am…” He admits, his voice breathy and sensual, as you taste yourself, the sweetness from his mouth mixing with your own flavor, addictive. “Maybe I wanna pump you full of me, hmm? Maybe I’ve been wanting to.”
“Then do it,” you whisper, eagerly tugging down his zipper, seeing just how hard and thick he is. “Cum in me.”
“Fuck, seriously!?” You giggle a bit at that, nodding. “What position though? Can you… be on your back? Can you…”
“You didn’t read that part, hmm?” You tease him then, laying back and seeing how his eyes darken, his pretty tip leaking. “I can, but no weight on the tummy at this point so…”
“Got it,” he whispers, hands on your hips, standing between you as you lay there, thighs wide, your mess dripping in rivulets still from your thighs, when his tip hits your slit you both take a breath.
“Ah!” You’re so sensitive during this stage of pregnancy, you almost cum from a rub, embarrassing as it was to squirt on his damn face, you can still see where you soaked his shirt as he leans down, careful not to put weight on you. “Sensitive…”
“Yeah, are you, baby?” You nod quickly, he keeps rubbing it, like to torture you, kissing you while holding himself up and standing, achingly sweet even as his fat cockhead is going faster between your folds. “Yeah you are – gonna cum like this, hmm? Like that night?”
“You r-remember?” You mumble, losing control of your senses, clinging to his biceps, nails pressing over his shirt, Satoru sighs, kissing you again, as you feel your body tense up.
“Of course I remember,” your eyes meet, and you can’t help but shatter with another glide of his tip against your slit, impossibly more squirt spraying him. “God you’re wetter than before. Is that even possible?”
“In me, fuck… stop teasin’ me…” You are already cockdrunk from his tip, and he knows it – smirk on his handsome face. “Toru!”
“Lemme take my time, know how long I’ve waited?” You can’t answer, not when he glides his cock in, careful when in three thrusts he bottoms out, waiting for you to adjust. “Feel so fuckin’ good… you’re soaked…”
“Mhm,” your thighs tremble, he is easing back, his hands trailing down your changing body in a way that should make you nervous.
But you just want more.
“Beautiful…” He whispers, easing back and looking at the mess with every slow stroke, how your puffy lips are moving around his thickness, coated his raised veins till they’re glittery. “Look at you, sweetheart. These tits, so full, I can’t wait till there’s milk dripping.”
You whine out then, eyes rolling back as he begins to move, standing and lifting you just slightly, angling your hips so his cock can rub right on your sweet spot, hitting the little sponginess of it over and over in sweet little kisses. You shatter again, and again, cumming so much you get dizzy, your ears ringing, his cock filling you and stretching you more than you thought you could take.
He’s whispering your name in a way that’s nothing like ‘a friend’ or even a baby daddy, the way he says your name as he rests a hand on your ribcage, the other on your hip, fucking into you? It’s filthy, it’s loving, it’s everything and anything but how he’s said it your whole life, and yet…
It’s still the way he said it the day he met you.
When he first learned your name, the two of you became friends, and he shared his lunch with you because you forgot to make your own. The way when he took you home after school, and when he’d hold open that umbrella, the two Satoru Gojos meld – that one, and this one, a man fucking you up, holding you, his shirt half slid up from your hands.
“Off, off,” you tug impatiently and he laughs, doing just that, letting you touch his abdomen, his chest, gripping his obliques when he starts to move faster. “Ah!”
“Y-you okay, sweetheart?” He manages, pausing then. “Am I too…”
“I’ll give you anything when you ask so sweet,” he eases out and you gasp, scowling at him. “I’m just going to make you more comfy, don’t you glare at me.”
“I said more and you… oh…” He’s gently putting a little pillow underneath your hips now, and you sigh, lashes fluttering. “That is better.”
“Mhm, impatient girl,” he glides back in, hitting your spot even better, every drag of his tip having you closer and closer. “You sure you want my cum? You wanna be so full of me it drips out all day?”
“Yes,” it’s automatic, your answer, Satoru whines out then, his cheeks all flushed, his eyes lidded and heavy – you feel him pulsing inside, he’s so big in your slick, messy walls. “Please… cum inside I… mnh!”
“Fuck,” Satoru gives you just that – all his milky cum, coating your walls in white, trembling as you milk him for every drop.
Oh, and when he sees that mess pouring from your pretty cunt? Well he can’t help but fuck it back inside, but this time with you on your knees, your head resting on the bed as he holds your body up. Watching the thick coating of his own white release slipping down his cock, his balls heavy again.
He gives you more of it – more of him, desperately whimpering in your ear, cum getting fucked back inside, whispering those treacherous words that you didn’t hear last time. But this time you do, you turn your head, drool spilling, eyes all fucked out – Satoru swipes your drool as he busts his load deep in you again, three now just getting fucked deeper, slipping from the mess you both are.
“You l-love me?” You mumble, brows drawn together. “Is that like… just talk during it or…”
“I love you,” he whispers again, a little louder, seeing your eyes glimmer. “Not just because I’m buried inside you and pussy drunk, no. I do love you. God I do.”
“I love you too, Toru,” you whisper, letting him kiss you, drinking his sighs and moans in as he gently rocks his still hard cock inside, in the stuffed full, creamy mess he’s made of you. “I love you too.”
It’s whispered over and over, when he’s showering you, helping you shave, being so gentle and sweet – like he wasn’t just railing your pussy, like he wasn’t fingering his cum back in. No, it’s perfect, the way you can finally not call Satoru Gojo just your friend anymore.
*****
You had a baby with your best friend by accident – but it’s anything but a mistake, in fact when you’re holding her in your arms and smiling at her, seeing the same blue eyes you’ve loved your whole life? When Satoru’s making a bottle downstairs and you’re rocking in the chair in the nursery he had made?
When she’s all milk drunk later in your arms and Satoru is laughing at her little face, brushing her cheek with his thumb? You know it was all for some reason, even if it’s a little too soon, and even if you’re not fully ready yet – you know it’s perfect here, having him kiss your head, sighing and looking at her.
“She’s so cute like this,” he says softly, brushing some of her downy hair that’s forming, you ease the bottle and she is still sucking. “She needs a binky?”
“Mhm,” he hands you one, and you slip it in her mouth, grinning all big up at Satoru now. “She looks so much like you. I’m not sure my genetics tried.”
“Well, I do have Gojo genes,” he’s all puffing his chest, you can’t help but giggle, before wincing a bit at the pain. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Still sore,” you admit, he gently takes her and places her in the pretty little bassinet, swaddling her up tightly before coming to you, helping you up. “Thank you… Toru, thank you for everything. I was scared at first, but…”
“I was too,” he admits, peeking down at you – still so beautiful, but the strain of having her has taken it’s toll. You’ve got dark circles, and your color isn’t all back yet, he picks you up before you can stop him.
“Toru!”
“You’re taking a nap.”
“I can walk!”
“I know,” he holds you anyway, you yawn and bury your face against his neck, lashes tickling his skin. “I love her so much.”
“I do too,” you admit, giggling. “So much I almost want another.”
“Another, hmm?’
“Not any time soon!” He just grins as he lays you down. “You deviant, don’t even think about it for at least two years!”
“Sure, I wasn't thinking about it at all,” he sighs as he sees your nipples dripping though, thumb brushing over one, tasting it. “Oh it’s sweet.”
“You little freak,” you tease, but you let him have just a taste, a little flick of his tongue before he tugs up your top. “Take a nap with me.”
“All right,” he is tired too, just trying to keep wide awake for you, but when he cuddles you to him, and feels you against him, he can’t stop his grin.
He got his best friend pregnant by accident – but the next time will absolutely be on purpose.
Satoru Gojo is fucking gorgeous, which is so deeply unfair that you’re still kind of processing it as he pays for your movie ticket with trembling fingers. His white hair is slightly tousled, soft against his ears, and his glasses are tilted just a bit on the bridge of his nose. He keeps pushing them up like he’s stalling, trying not to meet your eyes too long because every time he does, he gets flustered. His face goes pink and he laughs too loud. You bite your lip every time he does that.
You’re no better. Your hands are clammy inside the sleeves of your hoodie, because you thought this was going to be a safe little date. Nerdy. Harmless. You met at a fucking Doraemon expo for god’s sake, where he gave you a Doraemon-shaped candy and then looked like he wanted to die from shyness.
And now you’re sitting in a too-dark movie theatre with his knee brushing yours.
You think you’re gonna die too. Because there’s heat pooling between your legs, and you're pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties, and this was supposed to be your first normal date. Not a panty-ruining, thigh-clenching disaster where you keep imagining his stupid hot fingers pulling your hoodie up and touching you like you're not both trembling virgins about to combust from one misplaced touch.
Satoru’s voice cracks in the dark.
“You, uh— are you okay?”
You look at him, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”
He fidgets. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”
You are. Shit.
“I’m just…” you squirm, thighs pressed tight together. “The seats are uncomfortable.”
He makes a strangled little laugh, eyes darting to the screen and then back to your mouth. You don’t know who moves first, but a second later, your hands are brushing in the popcorn bag and boom— your bodies are pressed together like magnets.
The movie is completely forgotten. You’re both leaning toward each other, breathing the same hot air, and it’s dizzying how close he is. His scent is soft and clean, like soap and sugar and some light cologne that makes your thighs ache. Your lips almost brush before he pulls back, cheeks pink.
“I-I gotta pee,” he blurts. Then winces. “Fuck. Not like— fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”
You stare at him, lips parted.
“…Me too,” you whisper. “Bathroom. I mean.”
So of course, of course, ten minutes later, you’re both in the tiny single-stall bathroom behind the snack bar, the door locked, and you’re pressed against the wall with Satoru’s hands hovering an inch from your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.
You’re panting.
So is he.
And there’s the faintest bulge pressing against his pants.
“You’re hard,” you whisper, stunned.
Satoru turns bright red. “I didn’t mean to be! I swear I wasn’t thinking anything— well I was thinking but not like— well yes like that but I didn’t expect you to—”
“I’m wet.”
That shuts him up.
He blinks. “Wha— You, wait really?”
You nod furiously. “Soaked. I thought I was dying. You’re, l-like— you’re so hot and tall and your hands are big and I thought—”
He sways toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity.
“You think I’m hot?” he breathes, shocked.
Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re like—the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
“…But I’m a virgin.”
You blink. “You’re a virgin?”
He freezes. “You didn’t know?”
You shake your head. “You’re too confident. And tall. And your voice, like— you talk like you’ve seen shit.”
“I haven’t! I’ve literally never seen anything. I still sleep with a body pillow.”
“Oh my god.”
You both start laughing, but it’s too breathy, too nervous. You’re looking at his lips again.
“I thought you weren’t a virgin,” he admits, voice low now, almost in awe. “You look like— like—”
He waves helplessly at your body. “You’re so pretty. So hot. You look like you’d ruin me.”
“I’ve never even kissed anyone,” you whisper.
“Me either,” he says.
There’s a beat of silent realization.
Then— tentatively— his hands touch your waist. He’s shaking.
“Can I…”
You nod. “Yeah. Please.”
The kiss is terrible. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, your mouths slipping messily before you both pull away with startled laughter. But his face is flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and your thighs are pressed tight together because the way he’s looking at you is not innocent anymore.
“We’re so bad at this,” you whisper.
“I’m gonna die,” he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.
“I’m so wet I think my panties are ruined,” you say, like a confession.
He groans. “That’s so hot, please don’t say things like that unless you want me to cum in my pants.”
You both snort, but neither of you moves away.
“Can I… touch you?” he whispers, barely audible.
Your eyes widen, breath catching.
“…Yes. But I don’t— I don’t really know how.”
“Me either,” he whispers. “Let’s be awkward together.”
You reach for his belt, and he lifts your hoodie just enough to see the swell of your tits in your bra. And then you both freeze, panting, staring— because holy fuck this is actually happening.
Two very horny, very confused virgins. In a bathroom. At the movies.
Grinding desperately like you’re learning each other’s bodies in braille.
His hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your fingers tremble at his zipper. And you swear— you swear— when your pussy brushes against his bulge through your panties and tights, he nearly whimpers.
You're both gonna combust.
You’re still half-laughing, half-gasping into his neck, your panties damp and sticking to you like sin, and Satoru’s hard dick is pressed against your inner thigh through his jeans like it hurts. He keeps doing these little shaky inhales, fingers digging into your hoodie at the waist like he needs something to hold onto or he’ll float off the planet.
His glasses are fogged. His cheeks are pink. And when you drag your nose along his jaw just to feel him shiver, he makes the softest noise you’ve ever heard. A tiny, broken sigh— like the kind of sound you might make when someone pets your hair just right.
You feel like you’re on fire.
“You’re really… hard,” you whisper, a little dreamy, dragging your hand down the front of his jeans like you’re curious more than anything else. Because you are. You can feel the length of him, thick and hot under the denim, twitching at just the barest touch of your fingers. “Like… all the way.”
“I know,” he whines, quietly. “It’s been like that since the popcorn scene.”
You giggle. “We didn’t have a popcorn scene.”
“You were licking butter off your fingers.”
“…Oh. Yeah okay, fair.”
You’re still staring at the bulge in his jeans. It’s insane. It’s… kind of intimidating, honestly. But you’re so curious, and he looks like he might actually die from the idea of you wanting to see him like this.
“Can I see it?” you whisper.
His breath catches. His whole body freezes.
“You— my… dick?”
You nod shyly, face burning. “Just once. I just— I wanna know what it looks like.”
He stares at you like you’re a mythical creature. “You really want to see it?”
“…Yeah.”
His fingers are shaking as he fumbles with his zipper.
You don’t look away— not even when he shoves his boxers down and his cock bounces free, flushed and heavy and dripping. You make a noise, something halfway between shock and awe, because holy shit he’s big. Not just big— long, curved a little toward his stomach, thick enough that your mouth goes dry. The tip is glossy and wet, a pretty pink color— a clear bead clinging to the slit like he’s leaking from just grinding on you.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, stunned.
Satoru makes a noise that’s not human. “D-don’t look at it like that.”
“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “It’s pretty.”
His brain shuts down.
“Pretty?” he croaks.
You nod dumbly, staring. “It’s like… glossy. And pink. And it’s twitching.”
He groans. “Don’t say twitching—”
“But it is! It’s like it’s waving at me or something. It looks so needy.”
He grabs the wall behind your head like he might collapse.
“You’re so cute,” you whisper. “You’re really hard just from kissing me.”
“You’re soaking,” he counters, voice hoarse. “You’ve been wet for an hour.”
You whimper a little. “I didn’t even know I could get this wet.”
Satoru groans again and cups himself like it’ll stop him from cumming just from talking to you.
You reach out— slowly— and wrap your fingers around the base.
He jolts, hips stuttering forward into your hand like it’s instinct. His eyes flutter shut and his whole body shudders, like he’s never felt anything like this.
“…You’re so warm,” you whisper. “And thick.”
“I’m gonna cum,” he blurts.
You pause. “Wait, already?”
“I told you,” he gasps, pressing his face into your neck. “It’s your voice— fuck, the way you’re touching me—”
You slide your hand up and watch his cock twitch, leaking over your fingers.
He sobs a little. “Angel, please—”
That makes you freeze.
“…Angel?”
He peeks up at you, embarrassed. “It slipped out.”
You bite your lip, then smile, stroking him again. “I like it.”
“You’re so soft,” he moans. “And your hand’s so small, it doesn’t even fit—”
You squeeze a little tighter. He gasps.
“Tell me when,” you whisper, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna waste it. You’ve been hard for so long.”
“‘When’?” he pants.
“Yeah,” you say, breath catching. “I want to see what your cum looks like too.”
He shatters.
Just like that— hot, thick ropes spill out across your fingers, your hoodie, his shirt. You watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his whole body curls toward yours, hips stuttering, voice cracked and pleading into your shoulder. His cock throbs in your hand like it’s losing its mind. He sounds so helpless, so high and soft when he whimpers your name.
You stare at the mess.
“…Whoa.”
He’s panting against your cheek, totally limp. “That was so embarrassing.”
“It was awesome,” you breathe. “I made you cum.”
“I exploded in ten seconds.”
You stroke his hair. “I think you’re perfect.”
He melts a little into your chest.
“…You wanna see me next?” you whisper.
His head jerks up like a prairie dog.
Satoru’s still shaking.
You can feel it— his breath hot and unsteady on your neck, his heartbeat punching against your ribs where your bodies press together. Satoru Gojo just came all over your hand like some desperate teenager, having a wet dream, and you’re still standing in a movie theater bathroom, soaked to the skin and so turned on it’s getting hard to breathe.
His cum is sticky on your fingers. Warm, it smells faintly like salt and sugar, and he’s still leaning against you like he’s not sure how to stand on his own.
And then—
Your voice, soft and daring, nearly a whisper:
“…You wanna see me next?”
Satoru blinks. Eyes blown wide. Mouth parted, in disbelief.
“…Are you serious?”
You nod.
He looks stunned. “Like… your pussy?”
Your whole face burns.
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, suddenly nervous. “If you want. I mean— I know it’s— kind of a lot, and maybe messy, but I just… I’ve never… shown anyone." You're looking down at the floor before you finish the rest of that sentence... then your eyes are darting back up to his face, blue eyes stargazed in disbelief. “And I want you to see.”
He’s speechless, Satoru is utterly speechless.
You fidget, heart thudding, tugging your hoodie down like it can hide the way your thighs are trembling, how wet you still are under your panties.
“I just thought… since I saw yours…”
His hand flies up, quick. Cupping your face, both of you look into each other's eyes.
“I want to,” he blurts. “I want to so bad I think I’m gonna die.”
You smile, shy and giddy. “Okay. Then… can you take my panties off?”
He gasps.
Like, actually gasps. Clutches his chest. Staggers backward like you hit him with a spell.
“Say that again,” he whispers.
You reach under your hoodie, slowly rolling your leggings down to your thighs, revealing just a sliver of your pale pink cotton panties, soaked straight through. There’s a wet patch over your pussy— obvious, shiny, and dark.
“Take them off,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Please?”
He looks like he might cry.
“Oh my god,” he chokes. “You’re so wet you soaked through. That’s from me? From just— grinding on me?”
You nod, cheeks flushed. “You made me so wet I couldn’t focus on the movie.”
His hands are on your thighs now, huge and hot, trembling a little as he sinks to his knees in front of you like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. His glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up, eyes fixed on your panties like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers, “but I wanna learn so bad.”
You’re breathing so fast your legs are shaking.
His fingers slide under the sides of your panties. He hesitates.
“Ready?” he asks, voice so soft.
You nod, in eager anticipation, like when you know you're about to rip a band-aid off. But... in this case, it's your soaked sticky ruined panties.
And he pulls them down.
Slow, slow, slow
The cotton clings to your cunt, like they're almost glued to you, but he gets them off with a firmer tug.
Your cunt glosses in the light.
Dripping. Swollen. Slick as fuck and twitching under his gaze. You clench a little just from the air, the tension, the way he’s looking at you like he just saw an angel squirt holy water.
He moans. Moans.
“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked. I didn’t know it could do that.”
You giggle nervously. “It doesn’t usually. I think it’s a you thing.”
He gulps, audibly.
His eyes don’t leave your pussy, even as he leans forward, nose almost brushing your thigh.
“Can I… touch you?”
You feel your knees threaten to buckle.
“Yes.” You say with too much enthusiasm than you meant.
His fingers twitch. “I don’t know how.”
You grab his wrist and guide it...
His middle finger barely grazes your folds and you gasp, clenching, hips jumping forward.
“Oh fuck,” he moans. “That was barely anything. You’re shaking.”
“You touched my clit,” you pant. “It’s sensitive.”
His eyes sparkle.
“Oh my god. I love that you know what it’s called.”
You’re breathless, laughing a little. “I’ve read fanfiction. Have you not?”
“I have, but in those they just say ‘your little pearl’ and shit.”
You groan. “That’s not even close.”
He’s looking again, hand hovering like he’s terrified to mess it up.
“Okay, so… this is your clit,” he murmurs, grazing it again, watching how your whole body twitches. “It’s so tiny. But you sound like I electrocuted you when I touched it.”
You whimper, cause he's teasing... He's curious as well and doesn't fucking know how much him petting your clit actually affects you.
“You like that?” he whispers, a bit entranced. Crystalline blue eyes focusing on the sticky strands of your slick connected to his fingertips as they stretch when he rubs and pulls them off your glued pussylips.
“Y-yeah.”
He touches again, a little firmer... slower, really working your clit, the soft squelches audible, he really wants to taste it, the creamy thing webbing his fingers, the thought pounding in his head.. Would you be grossed out if he just shoved his fingers in his mouth right now and got a taste of that sappy cream?
You whimper louder, snapping his attention back from his lewd thoughts.
His voice is shaking. “Can you c-cum like this? Just from me touching you?”
You nod furiously. “If you keep going, Fuck. Please keep going.”
His thumb brushes you now, a bit more confidently.
“You’re dripping,” he mumbles. “It’s getting on my wrist, angel”
Your thighs snap shut, embarrassed.
But you’re so close and he’s still rubbing in slow, shaky circles and whispering your name and watching you like he’s studying for a test he’s gonna fail with honors. Your clit feels like it’s throbbing. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop whining.
And then—
“Cum for me,” he whispers, awed. “Please, please pretty girl, I wanna see.”
That makes your cunt clench, his voice the thing that makes you break instantly.
You clam up around nothing, crying out as your pussy gushes over his hand, wet and twitchy, making a fucking mess on his hoodie sleeve. Your knees give out. He catches you instantly, still on his knees, arms full of shaking, panting girl.
You’re sobbing in relief, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering, and his hands are holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.
“You’re so amazing,” he breathes. “I can’t believe I made you cum.”
You whimper. “You’re so good. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”
He kisses your thigh.
Then your stomach, and makes his way up and then your lips, just to feel you.
Soft and careful, with utmost devotion and care.
And you melt against him, fucked out and flushed, pressed to his chest.
“…We should do this again,” he mumbles.
“Next time,” you pant, smiling, “I wanna see if you can make me squirt.”
He chokes, on what little air he's breathing.
But you’re still trembling.
Your panties are hanging off one ankle, his cum is drying on your sleeve, and your pussy is throbbing— still fluttering every now and then like your body can’t believe you actually came. You’re slumped against Satoru’s chest, half-limp, while he rubs soft little circles on your lower back like he’s trying to soothe an overstimulated kitten.
Time is passing and neither of you has said anything in the last full minute.
Except him whispering “holy fuck” under his breath every ten seconds like a mantra.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” he finally says, voice all hushed reverence. “You came.”
You nod, agreeing lazily. Dazed, and still reeling in the high. “Like… a lot.”
“You squirted.”
“I did not.”
“There was liquid. Splash zone level.”
You slap his chest, giggling, but your thighs twitch. You’re so sensitive you could cry, your clit aches in that perfect, pulsing way that means it wants no more and yet… you’re still soaking wet.
And you feel it. That ache deeper inside you now. Heavy and throbbing. Unused.
Unsatisfied.
You shift against him, face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt, and whisper:
“…Satoru?”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to put your fingers in me.”
You feel him freeze. Every muscle goes stiff. His hands still on your back. You feel his dick— hard again— press against your thigh like it heard you first.
“Wha— what.”
You look up at him, breath shaky. “You made me cum from the outside. But I’ve never been touched inside.”
His ears go red.
“I— I don’t wanna hurt you—”
“You won’t.” You take his wrist, place his hand gently against your mound. “I trust you.”
He swallows hard. You begin to guide his fingers between your thighs again, letting him feel how wet you still are. You gasp a little just from the contact— still sensitive, still twitchy.
His voice comes out hoarse. “You’re soaked.”
“Just go slow,” you whisper. “I wanna know what it feels like.”
He moves down again and actually takes his jacket off and spreads it over the tiles beneath you. He's kneeling like it’s instinct now, reverent and worshipful. Like he belongs on the floor for you. He kisses your inner thigh once, sweet and shaky, then stares between your legs like he’s seeing magic.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.
You nod, open for him by parting your thighs, trembling ever so slightly.
His fingers sliding along your sappy folds, middle finger inching closer to your hole's opening, more slick gathers and pools as it tries to worm its way in.
You gasp at the feeling.. a bit in fear and uncertainty, but he's so gentle, holding you tighter against him.
His finger begins to push in, your tiny hole fighting him, the intrusion. It's nothing like you've ever felt.
Satoru’s breathing stops entirely.
“You’re tight,” he whispers, stunned. “You’re— fuck, you’re so warm, I can feel your pulse.”
You whimper. “Go slow. Just the tip.”
He pushes a little, and you clench involuntarily, sucking him in just a bit.
He moans. Actually moans. Like you’re the one touching him.
“Angel, you’re gripping me.”
You bury your face in your sleeve, whining. “It’s not fair. Your fingers are big.”
He curls his finger just slightly— experimenting— and your entire body jolts.
“Oh— oh fuck!” you cry out.
His eyes go wide. “Was that— was that good?”
“D-do it again,” you pant.
He does. Gentler, carefully pressing just right, and your walls flutter around him so tightly it’s like your body doesn’t know how to handle it.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles. “You’re sucking me in.”
You grab his wrist. “Try two.”
He stares. “Are you sure?”
“Please, Satoru.”
You’re breathless, begging.
He shivers like it physically affects him.
He slides another finger in— and your pussy stretches around him, tighter than he expected. Your mouth drops open. Your thighs twitch.
“Oh my god,” you gasp.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me— I can’t move,” he moans.
You rock your hips, helping him, whining through your teeth.
It’s deep. It’s thick. He curls again— and you sob, eyes fluttering back.
“There— oh my god there, right there—”
His fingers are hooked now, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross. His thumb finds your clit on instinct, and suddenly you’re wailing, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move.
You cum again, messier and needy. Your velvet walls constricting his fingers in waves.
And he watches, awed, wrecked. His other hand supporting you as your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
He doesn’t even pull out.
He just whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”
And you start crying.
Happy tears. Dumb overwhelmed tears. Because no one’s ever touched you like this, seen you like this, loved your body with nothing but his hands and awe.
He kisses your forehead.
You sniffle. “I want you inside me someday.”
He nods. “Me too.”
“…But I might have to train for it.”
He laughs, breathless. “Me too. My heart can’t take this.”
You null away on his chest for a minute. Exhausted by everything your body's endured tonight, your panties still on the floor, his arms still secured tight around you and he press soft kisses to the top of your head.
Eventually when he slowly eases his fingers out of you, you're relaxed, no longer holding them hostage, it slides out with a flurry of slick gushing out, all what's been welling up and stuffed inside your cunt for the entire time.
He rubs it up and down your pussylips then into your clit one last time before he's bringing his fingers to his lips, and moaning as your flavour hits his tongue. Finally, getting a taste of you and he couldn't be more pleased at the tangy-sweetness of it.
Satoru licks his fingers clean, savouring it and after he's the one reaching for your panties, tugging them back up along with your leggings as he tells you softly to, "Raise your hips for me please, angel. Good girl, just like that." You do, and he secures them back in place, cunt still pulsing. Fresh slick soaking your panties again.
Satoru stands first, all long limbs and easy grace and he reaches down for you next. His hands are warm as he pulls you up from the bathroom floor. His jacket lies there still, a dark wet patch blooming where your cunt had soaked through.
Heat floods your cheeks, you're quick to mumble an apology, eyes glassy with leftover pleasure and sudden shyness.
He just chuckles softly. Bends to snatch the jacket up like it’s nothing. He balls it in one hand and tucks it under his arm.
“Shh, angel. It’s fine.”
He cups your face, thumbs brushing your flushed skin. Then he kisses you slow and deep, tasting like sin and sweetness. “One wash and it’ll be brand new. Don’t worry about it.”
He doesn’t tell you he plans to keep it exactly like this. A filthy little souvenir, from tonight.
His fingers lace with yours as he leads you out of the stall. The movie is long forgotten. He keeps you tucked close against his side the whole way through the emptying theater. The night air hits cool when you step outside.
In the car he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. Possessive and gentle.
Later that night you lie in bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your phone glows in the dark. Heart hammering, you type the silly questions anyway.
you 🩷
so… are we...
dating?
omg omg
am i your girlfriend now?!
His reply comes instantly.
toru 🩵
i knew we were soulmates when you asked to see my dick
aaaand called it "pretty"
ilysm angel omg
You giggle into your pillow, face burning. Your chest feels too full. Tonight was crazy. Wild and messy and perfect.
But now one, no two orgasms later and Satoru Gojo is yours. Officially. The nerd from the Doraemon expo.
You fall asleep smiling stupidly into your pillow, already wondering when you’ll feel his hands on you again.
