Art from to00fu!
✦.cw : stalking, toxic dynamics, sex
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna seeing you for the first time at that trashy frat party. His eyes are locked on you from across the room, his knuckles white as he grips his red solo cup, completely losing his mind the second he clocks you.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna walking up to you with that cocky, arrogant smirk that usually works every damn time. He tries to pressure you into going upstairs to his room right then and there, but you hit him with such an ice-cold, disgusted look that his ego practically shatters. You just turn your back on him, leaving him standing there looking like a fucking clown.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to save face by circling back with a fresh drink for you, but you don’t even spare him a glance. You step around him like he’s just another piece of trash in the hallway, and he’s left feeling like a total loser, watching your back as you walk away.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna spending the rest of the night pretending to listen to his bros bragging about football, but in reality, he’s tracking your every move. He doesn’t even realize how much of a creep he looks, neck craned awkwardly just to keep you in sight.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna watching you laugh at some other guy’s joke. A sick, stinging envy curls in his chest, making him want to howl.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waking up the next morning with a pounding head, but he doesn't give a shit about the hangover. You’re the only thing consuming his thoughts.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grilling everyone on campus—from RAs to terrified freshmen—until he finds out your major and what classes you like, typing every detail into the Notes app like a total stalker.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna digging up your socials in one night, scouring your TikTok likes to see what kind of guys you’re into. When he finds a video of some guy who is his total opposite, he lets out a pathetic, guttural groan and buries his face in his pillow.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna liking every single one of your posts, praying you’ll notice his pathetic efforts and follow him back. When you don't, he just ends up getting blackout drunk with Toji again.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying a new approach by kissing up to your friends to get any scrap of info on you. He grumbles under his breath—mentally sulking like a kicked puppy—when you spot his desperate attempts and shoo him away. He drops his head and slinks off, feeling like a beaten dog.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to give up, finally changing his entire class schedule just so he can sit next to you. Now, he gets to stare at you every single day.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna haunting you twelve hours a day. He’s in the library, the dining hall, outside your dorm. He notices your eye twitching, the way you keep looking over your shoulder, growing more and more paranoid. But he can’t stop. He’s fucking obsessed.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sitting in his room at night, jerking off to your photos. His hand tightens around his cock to the rhythm of his ragged breathing, his lips silently forming your name, terrified to actually say it out loud.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna overhauling his wardrobe to match the aesthetic of the guys you post on TikTok, desperate for a shred of your attention.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to quit. At the next party, he approaches you again, fully expecting to get shut down. He cracks a stupid, nervous joke, and then—you smile. His heart skips a beat, and he breaks into an idiotic, lovesick grin.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his jeans grow painfully tight when you casually take a drag of his cigarette, your lips brushing against his fingers.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna blushing to the tips of his ears when you’re wasted and press into him for warmth by the bonfire. He’s too scared to even put an arm around you, so he just stands there, stiff as a board, inhaling the scent of your hair and praying this moment lasts forever.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna trying to play the gentleman while walking you to your dorm. He keeps his hand on your waist, but his fingers are burning with the urge to slip lower, to the panties he’s dying to pull off. He holds back because you’re drunk, and he wants you to remember him as something more than just another horny prick.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna falling asleep with a massive, dopey smile on his face after seeing that you finally followed him back on everything.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna getting off to your simple text, "You were sweet," his cock throbbing in his hand as he texts back, "Did you like it?" When you send a drunk voice note whining about how much you love it when he acts like a pathetic simp for you, he cums so hard his body jerks off the bed.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna stalking you across campus the next day. When you finally reach out and touch his shoulder, he craves nothing more than for you to never let go.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna becoming your personal pack mule, carrying your books, waiting outside every single one of your classes to walk you home. You smile at him, and his entire world starts and ends with you.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna barely holding it together when you send him spicy photos. His hand goes straight to his pants, but he forces himself to reply with something witty, even though his skin is crawling with the need to rip your clothes off and pin you to the wall.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna sending you a video of him jerking off and whining for you when you ask for proof. When you reply with a photo of your dripping pussy, he drowns his phone screen in his own cum.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna refusing to leave your side at the next frat party. His eyes are practically begging you to stay when you mention wanting to talk to your friends. (His bros roast him for it. He couldn't care less.)
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna feeling his heart soar when you lean into his ear and whisper that you want to fuck. His breath hitches and his hands shake with pure anticipation as he drags you to his room, already picturing you beneath him.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna waiting for your permission, hovering over you, tugging at the hem of your shirt. He’s breathing hard, inhaling your scent, terrified of messing up. The second you nod, he’s tearing your clothes off.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna worshipping your pussy, licking you with pure, feral reverence. His cock is so hard he’s ready to blow his load just from the sound of your first moan.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna damn near coming the second he slides inside you. His eyes roll back, his hips moving on instinct. He hears your scream, and it drives him faster, deeper, his nails digging into your back.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna begging you to let him go faster, his voice cracking as you scratch his back in time with his rough thrusts. He’s pounding into you so hard the bed frame is practically screaming against the wall.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna bending you over, lips pressed against your ear as he whines about how long he’s wanted you, how he’s obsessed over you every single night. His voice trembles as he asks if he’s doing it right, if you like the way he’s fucking you, scared to death that you’ll tell him to stop.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna letting out a quiet, wrecked moan when you squeeze his cock too tight, his hips bucking into your hands, desperate for release.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna finishing with a loud, guttural groan, spilling himself deep inside you. He watches you, broken and satisfied, before collapsing on top of you, gasping for air.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna holding you tight afterward, arms wrapped around you so you can’t leave. He pretends to be asleep, terrified that if he opens his eyes, you’ll have disappeared.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna grinning like the biggest simp on earth when you kiss him in the morning, leaving your panties on his pillow with a promise that you’ll do it again. He grabs your hips, begging you not to go, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated hope.
Pathetic frat-boy!Sukuna, who is obviously going to ask you on a date tomorrow and spend the entire time begging you to let him bury his face back between your thighs and lick your dripping pussy until you’re coming all over his face.
Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!)
synopsis: You ran from your arranged marriage in a torn white wedding dress, desperate to escape the cruel lord your family sold you to. By midnight, you’re on your knees in front of the village butcher, begging for shelter.
Toji Fushiguro doesn’t help runaways.
But when you blurt out that he’s your husband in front of the biggest gossips in town, suddenly the whole village believes you’re his. Now you’re trapped in a fake marriage with the terrifying butcher — a massive, rough, possessive man who has decided that if you’re going to call yourself his wife… he’s going to make it very, very real.
pairing: butcher!toji fushiguro x runaway bride!reader
mdni | warnings: smut, first time, size kink, breeding kink, creampie, cum play, rough sex, possessive/jealous Toji, dirty talk, spanking, manhandling, strength kink, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering, spitting, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, fake marriage
word count: 14.8k
a/n: im kinda obsessed with this ngl... also lmk if your enjoying these longer fics!
The great hall of your family estate felt more like a tomb than a place of celebration.
Thick beams of dark oak loomed overhead, and the air was heavy with the greasy smell of over-roasted venison, spilled sour wine, and your father’s desperation. Two massive iron chandeliers flickered with dying candles, casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the walls. Servants had long since been dismissed, leaving only the three of you: your father, Lord Kato, and you — the silent prize being traded away.
Your father slumped in his carved high-backed chair, cheeks bloated and flushed deep red from too much drink. His once-fine tunic was stained with grease and wine. With a trembling hand, he slid the sealed parchment across the table. The wax bore your family’s broken crest.
“She’s untouched,” he slurred, trying and failing to sound proud. “Barely nineteen summers. Fertile. She’ll give you strong sons, I swear it. Obedient when properly disciplined. This marriage settles every debt between our houses — the gold, the eastern lands, the failed harvests… all of it wiped clean.”
Lord Kato sat across from him like a spider in human skin. Tall and unnaturally pale, with sharp cheekbones and eyes the color of frozen ink. His lips curled into a thin, cruel smile as he let his gaze crawl over your body without shame. He studied the swell of your breasts beneath your gown, the narrow dip of your waist, the way your hands clenched into fists at your sides. The way you trembled.
He took a slow sip of wine, then spoke, voice smooth and cold as winter steel.
“She’ll do nicely. The ceremony will take place tomorrow night at my estate. I expect her delivered in the finest white lace and silk… and nothing beneath it.” His smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp. “I want easy access the moment the guests leave. I’ve waited long enough for my new bride.”
You stood motionless in the center of the hall, heart pounding so violently you could hear it in your ears. Your skin crawled as if his eyes were already peeling the gown from your body. Nausea twisted in your stomach. This man had already buried three wives. Whispers spoke of bruises, broken bones, and screams that echoed through his halls at night. And now your own father was selling you to him for coin and land.
No one asked if you agreed.
No one asked what you wanted.
No one ever had.
You kept your face blank, eyes lowered like the obedient daughter they expected, while inside your mind screamed.
Later that night, when the household finally fell into drunken slumber and the torches burned low, you moved.
You had planned this in secret for weeks. A plain dark wool cloak stolen from the stables. A small bundle of hard bread, dried cheese, and a waterskin. Soft leather shoes you hoped would last. But the most valuable thing you owned was the wedding gown itself. You had decided to wear the half-finished white dress during your escape — the expensive satin and delicate lace might fetch enough coins in a distant village to buy you passage far away from here. It was risky, but you had nothing else of real value.
You slipped out through the narrow servant’s entrance at the back of the kitchens, the heavy door groaning softly behind you like a warning. The moment your feet touched the cold, dew-soaked grass, terror and fragile hope surged through you in equal measure.
You ran.
The forest swallowed you whole.
Ancient trees loomed like silent judges, their branches clawing at your white gown as if trying to drag you back. The delicate satin — still only half-finished, with pins and loose threads — snagged mercilessly on thorns. You heard fabric tearing again and again: sharp rips that sounded far too loud in the darkness. The long lace veil caught on a low limb and nearly yanked you off your feet; you tore it free with shaking hands, leaving half of it fluttering behind you like a surrendered flag. Mud and wet leaves caked your bare feet. Sharp stones and roots sliced into your soles until every step left bloody prints in the dirt. The cold night air burned your lungs. Sweat soaked your back and chest despite the chill, making the torn gown cling obscenely to your skin. Your legs screamed with exhaustion after only an hour, but fear kept you moving. Behind you, distant shouts echoed through the trees — your father’s guards, torches flickering like angry fireflies. Dogs barked. They were coming.
You pushed harder.
Branches whipped your face, leaving stinging cuts across your cheeks. Your hair fell loose from its elegant pins, wild and tangled. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with blood and dirt. Every shadow looked like a man ready to grab you. Every snap of a twig made your heart seize. You ran until your vision blurred and your chest felt like it would burst. You ran until the shouts grew fainter and the trees finally began to thin.
Hours had passed. The moon hung high and merciless overhead, bathing the world in cold silver light. Your legs trembled violently as you stumbled out of the treeline onto a wide, muddy road. In the distance, warm golden lantern light glowed between clusters of simple wooden buildings. A village.
You nearly collapsed with relief.
The main street was deserted, shutters closed tight against the night. Only one building still showed signs of life. Warm light spilled from its open front door onto the dirt road, carrying with it the thick, metallic scent of fresh blood and raw meat. A weathered wooden sign creaked overhead in the cold breeze:
Fushiguro Meat Co.
You limped toward it, every cut and bruise screaming.
A massive man stood under the wooden awning, illuminated by the lantern light. He was enormous — broad as a barn door, easily over six feet tall, with shoulders and arms so thick with muscle they looked carved from stone. He wore a blood-streaked leather apron tied low on his narrow hips. Beneath it, a simple white tank clung to his sweat-slicked chest, the thin fabric molded to heavy slabs of muscle and dark, scattered scars. His black hair was damp and messy, strands falling across his forehead. A deep, jagged scar twisted the corner of his mouth, giving his face a permanent, dangerous smirk even when he wasn’t smiling.
Thick veins stood out on his forearms as he slowly wiped a long, wicked boning knife clean on the edge of his apron. The blade gleamed.
He looked like violence given human shape — raw, brutal, and utterly terrifying.
You didn’t know his name. You didn’t know anything about him except that he was the only soul still awake, and you were completely out of options.
Your legs gave out the final few steps. You dropped hard to your knees in the cold dirt right in front of him, the torn white satin of your ruined wedding gown pooling around you like spilled milk mixed with blood and mud. Your chest heaved. Fresh tears cut clean tracks down your filthy cheeks.
“Please—” Your voice came out cracked and hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “Hide me. Just for one night. My family… they sold me to Lord Kato to settle their debts. He’s going to break me. Hurt me in ways I can’t even speak of. I’ll do anything you ask — scrub floors until my hands bleed, haul carcasses, sleep in the cold room with the meat, be your servant, your cleaner… anything. Just please… don’t let them take me back.”
You bowed your head, trembling, and clutched desperately at the bloody hem of his apron with both hands, staining your fingers red.
The man stopped moving. He looked down at you slowly, sharp green eyes narrowing as they took in every detail: your torn and filthy wedding dress, the cuts on your face and feet, the desperate tears, the way you knelt before him like a supplicant before a god of slaughter.
He flicked the long knife shut with a loud, metallic click that echoed in the quiet street.
“Not my problem, princess,” he rumbled. His voice was deep, low, and rough — like gravel being dragged across stone. There was no pity in it. “I don’t hide runaways. Go beg somewhere else before you bring trouble to my shop.”
You stayed on your knees, fingers still twisted tight in the bloody hem of his apron. Tears kept falling, mixing with the dirt on your cheeks. “Please… I have nowhere else. They’ll find me by morning. Lord Kato will—”
Footsteps. Soft, quick, coming from the narrow alley beside the butcher shop.
Three women emerged into the lantern light, their shawls pulled tight against the night chill, each carrying a small lantern. They stopped short at the sight of you kneeling in your ruined white gown in front of the massive butcher.
“Gods above,” the tallest one gasped. “Is that a wedding dress? Child, what in the world happened to you?”
The women hurried closer, lanterns swinging. Warm golden light spilled over your torn satin, the mud-caked hem, the blood from his apron smeared across your bodice and hands. One of the younger women pressed a hand to her mouth. “She’s bleeding… and look at her feet!”
You looked down at yourself — the once-beautiful dress now filthy and shredded — then up at the stranger towering over you. His green eyes were narrowed in clear irritation, jaw clenched like he was seconds away from shoving you into the street and bolting the door.
A wild, desperate plan came to your mind.
You pushed yourself up on shaky legs, ignoring the sharp pain in your cut feet. Before he could step away, you grabbed his large, calloused hand with both of yours, clinging desperately. His palm was warm, rough, and still faintly sticky with dried blood.
Turning to the three women with the most exhausted yet radiant smile you could force, you announced clearly:
“This is my husband.”
The words rang in the quiet night air.
The women froze.
You kept going, voice trembling but determined. “We were married in secret this evening. My family didn’t approve — they tried to sell me off to a cruel lord to settle their debts. So I ran away through the forest to reach him. The dress… it got ruined on the way, but I’m here now. I’m exactly where I belong.”
Silence stretched for a heartbeat.
Then the women erupted.
“The butcher got married?!” the tallest one exclaimed, eyes wide. “Toji Fushiguro actually took a wife? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
One of the younger women clapped her hands together, beaming. “Look at her, even all torn up she’s lovely! Brave thing, running through the woods in the middle of the night just to get to her husband.”
The third woman laughed warmly. “We’ll bring fresh bread and some stew first thing in the morning for you newlyweds. Can’t have Toji’s new wife going hungry on her first day here!”
Toji.
So that was his name. Toji Fushiguro.
You felt the man — Toji — stiffen beside you. His massive hand twitched hard in your grip, muscles flexing like he was fighting the urge to rip free and deny everything. His sharp green eyes burned into the side of your face, dark with fury and silent threat. But the women were watching excitedly. The whole village would know the story by sunrise if he contradicted you now.
You squeezed his hand tighter, nails digging into his skin in a silent, desperate plea. Please. Just play along.
Toji’s scarred jaw flexed. A low, dangerous growl rumbled deep in his chest. For one terrifying second you thought he might expose you.
Then, in the flattest, most reluctant voice you had ever heard, he grunted:
“…Yeah. She’s mine now. Wife.”
The women squealed with delight. They offered more congratulations, promised gifts for the “newlyweds,” and finally bustled away down the dark street, lanterns bobbing and their voices already carrying the juicy news.
The moment their footsteps faded, Toji’s grip turned bruising. He yanked you forward so hard you stumbled against his broad, solid chest, then dragged you roughly through the open door of the butcher shop. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud that rattled the walls.
Inside, the air was thick and heavy — cold iron, raw meat, woodsmoke, and the faint metallic tang of fresh blood. A single lantern burned low on the wooden counter, casting long, flickering shadows over heavy chopping blocks, hanging meat hooks, and rows of sharp knives.
Toji spun you around and shoved your back against the closed door. One thick, powerful forearm braced beside your head, completely caging you in. His massive body loomed over yours, heat rolling off him in waves. The scent of blood, sweat, and raw masculinity filled your lungs.
His green eyes were dark with fury… and something much darker, much hungrier.
“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, voice low and lethal. “You just told half the goddamn village you’re my wife. You got any idea what you’ve done, little runaway?”
Your heart slammed against your ribs. You could feel the hard press of his chest against yours, the sheer size of him making you feel tiny and trapped.
“It was the only way,” you whispered, breathing fast. “They would’ve dragged me back to Lord Kato by morning if they knew the truth. Now they think I belong to you. No one will question it. Please… just let me stay the night. I’ll disappear at dawn, I swear it.”
Toji stared down at you for a long, heavy moment. His scarred mouth twisted into a slow, dangerous smirk. His free hand came up and gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his intense green eyes.
“Disappear?” he growled, thumb pressing hard into your jaw. “Too late for that, princess. You just tied yourself to me in front of witnesses.”
He leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted hot across your lips. His voice dropped even lower, rough and full of promise.
“You owe me now. Big time.”
His gaze dragged slowly down your body — over the torn white lace barely clinging to your curves, the bloodstains, the way your chest heaved with fear and adrenaline. He just held you there, pinned against the door, letting the heavy tension coil tighter and tighter between you.
“Upstairs,” he finally ordered, voice like gravel. “Now. We’re gonna have a long talk about what you just got yourself into.”
Toji didn’t give you time to argue.
His massive hand clamped around your upper arm like a steel band and he hauled you away from the door. You stumbled after him on aching, bleeding feet as he dragged you through the back of the shop. The scent of raw meat grew thicker near the cold room, but he turned toward a narrow wooden staircase tucked behind a heavy curtain.
“Move,” he growled when you hesitated at the bottom step.
You climbed. Each step sent fresh pain shooting up your legs, but you bit your lip and kept going. Toji followed close behind, his heavy boots loud on the old wood, one hand still gripping your arm so you couldn’t possibly run.
The stairs opened directly into a small, sparse apartment above the butcher shop. It was surprisingly clean for a man who spent his days covered in blood. A single main room served as both living space and kitchen — a sturdy wooden table with two chairs, a stone hearth with dying embers, a few shelves holding jars of preserved meat and dried herbs. A narrow hallway led to what you assumed were the bedroom and washroom. Moonlight spilled through two small windows, painting everything in cool silver.
Toji kicked the door at the top of the stairs shut behind him and finally released your arm. You immediately backed up a few steps, the torn hem of your wedding dress whispering across the floorboards.
He folded his thick arms across his broad chest, blood-stained apron still tied around his waist, and stared at you like you were a problem he was deciding how to carve up.
“Start talking,” he said flatly. “And don’t leave anything out. Who the fuck are you, why is a lord hunting you, and why the hell did you decide to drag me into your mess?”
You swallowed hard, still catching your breath. You introduced yourself by name, then continued quietly, “My family is in debt. Deep debt. They sold me to Lord Kato yesterday to settle it. He’s a cruel man. Three wives before me, and none of them lasted long. He told my father in front of me what he plans to do on our wedding night.” Your voice cracked. “I couldn’t stay. I ran in the only thing of value I had — this dress. I thought maybe I could sell it in a village for enough coin to disappear.”
Toji’s green eyes flicked over the ruined white lace clinging to your body — torn, muddy, bloodstained. He let out a low, humorless snort.
“And instead of keeping your mouth shut and hiding somewhere quiet, you decided the best plan was to announce to the biggest gossips in the village that you’re married to the local butcher.” He took one heavy step closer. “You realize what you’ve done?”
You nodded quickly. “They won’t hand me over now. Not if they think I belong to you. The whole village will protect the butcher’s wife… right?”
Toji laughed — a short, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Protect?” He shook his head. “You just painted a target on my back too, princess. Lord Kato isn’t the type to let his property run off. When he comes looking — and he will come looking — he’s going to hear all about how the village butcher stole his bride.”
He dragged a large hand down his face, clearly pissed off, but there was something else in his expression now. A glint of dark amusement. Maybe even reluctant interest.
“You’re either the bravest idiot I’ve ever met… or the most cunning.”
You stood there trembling in the middle of his living room, arms wrapped around yourself. The torn bodice of the dress had slipped dangerously low on your shoulders, but you didn’t dare fix it.
“I’ll leave at first light,” you promised again, softer this time. “I won’t cause you any more trouble. Just… let me stay until sunrise. Please, Toji.”
Hearing his name from your lips made his eyes narrow.
“Don’t,” he warned. “You don’t get to say my name like we’re actually married.”
He turned away from you and walked over to the small hearth. He crouched down, added two fresh logs, and stoked the fire back to life with practiced efficiency. The warm orange glow slowly filled the room, chasing away some of the chill.
When he stood again, he looked even bigger in the firelight — shoulders impossibly wide, muscles shifting under the thin tank top, the scar at his mouth pulling as he scowled.
“Sit,” he ordered, nodding toward one of the wooden chairs at the table. “You’re bleeding all over my floor.”
You obeyed, lowering yourself carefully onto the chair. The moment you sat, exhaustion crashed into you like a wave. Your feet throbbed. Every cut and bruise ached. You were filthy, terrified, and running on nothing but fear and adrenaline.
Toji disappeared down the short hallway and returned a minute later with a metal basin, a clean rag, and a small jar. He set the basin on the floor in front of you, then dropped into the chair across the table, watching you with those sharp green eyes.
“Clean your feet,” he said gruffly. “I’m not carrying you around if they get infected.”
You dipped the rag into the water and started wiping away the mud and blood as carefully as you could. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. The fire crackled. Outside, the village was completely quiet.
Toji leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, studying you like livestock.
“You really think this marriage story is gonna hold?” he asked after a long minute. “Village folk love to talk. By noon tomorrow everyone’s gonna want to meet my mysterious bride.”
You kept your eyes on your injured feet. “I just need a day or two to figure out where to go next. I can… I can work. I’m not useless. I can clean, cook, help in the shop—”
Toji’s low chuckle cut you off.
“You? Working in a butcher shop?” He shook his head. “You look like you’ve never touched anything bloodier than a sewing needle in your life.”
He watched you struggle to clean a deep cut on your sole for another moment before he made an irritated sound and leaned forward.
“Give me your foot.”
You hesitated.
“Now,” he growled.
You slowly lifted your leg. Toji took your ankle in his huge, rough hand — surprisingly gentle despite the calluses and dried blood on his fingers. He pulled the basin closer and started cleaning your wounds himself with careful, efficient movements.
The contrast was jarring: this terrifying mountain of a man, covered in someone else’s blood, carefully tending to your torn-up feet.
“You’re staying the night,” he said quietly, not looking up from his work. “Not because I’m kind. Because if I throw you out now, those three hens will ask questions I don’t feel like answering. Tomorrow we figure out what the hell to do with you.”
He finished cleaning one foot and moved to the other. His thumb brushed accidentally over a sensitive spot and you hissed softly.
Toji’s eyes flicked up to your face for a second, something unreadable flashing across his expression.
“After that…” He set your foot down carefully and leaned back again, voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re gonna start paying off the trouble you just caused me.”
He didn’t explain what that meant.
But the way he was looking at you — slow, heavy, possessive — made heat crawl up your neck despite the fear.
Toji held your gaze for another long moment before he finally released your ankle. He pushed the basin aside with his boot and stood, towering over you once more. The firelight danced across the hard lines of his face, catching on the jagged scar at the corner of his mouth.
“Stay there,” he muttered.
He disappeared into the back room again. You heard the sound of water splashing, then heavy footsteps returning. When he came back, he carried a thick wool blanket and a tin cup. He set the cup in front of you — it was filled with cool water — and dropped the blanket over the back of your chair.
“Drink,” he ordered. “You look half-dead.”
You obeyed without thinking, your hands still trembling slightly as you lifted the cup. The water was clean and cold, soothing your raw throat. Toji watched you drink the entire thing, arms crossed, before he spoke again.
You lowered the empty cup. “Thank you… for the water. And for cleaning my feet.”
He made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, like thanks made him uncomfortable. Then he leaned against the edge of the table, close enough that his thigh nearly brushed your arm.
“You really thought this through?” he asked, voice low. “Running in a fancy white dress, announcing yourself as my wife in front of the nosiest women in the village… What’s your actual plan once the sun comes up?”
You stared down at your bandaged feet. “I didn’t have time for a real plan. I just knew I couldn’t let them marry me off to that monster. I thought if I could get far enough away, maybe sell the dress, I could buy passage on a cart or a boat. Start over somewhere no one knows me.”
Toji exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh but darker. “Selling that dress would’ve gotten you robbed or worse before you even reached the next town. You’re lucky you only made it as far as my doorstep.”
Silence settled again, broken only by the crackling fire. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, suddenly aware of how exposed you still were — the torn bodice of the wedding gown hanging loosely, the lace ripped in several places, dirt and dried blood streaked across your skin.
Toji’s eyes drifted over you again, slower this time. They lingered on the curve of your shoulder where the dress had slipped, the rise and fall of your chest, the way the white fabric clung to your thighs.
“You look ridiculous,” he said bluntly. “Like a bride who lost a fight with a pack of wolves.”
Despite everything, a tiny, tired smile tugged at your lips. “That’s… not far from the truth.”
He pushed off the table and walked over to a wooden chest in the corner. He rummaged inside and pulled out a large, worn linen shirt — clearly one of his. It looked big enough to reach your knees.
“Here.” He tossed it to you. “Can’t have you walking around my place looking like that. Change. There’s a washroom down the hall if you want to clean up more.”
You clutched the shirt to your chest. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he warned. “You’re still in my house. Still wearing that damn dress that’s going to bring trouble to my door.”
He turned his back to give you a moment of privacy, busying himself by adding another log to the fire. You quickly stood, wincing at the pain in your feet, and slipped behind the partial wall that separated the washroom. You peeled off the ruined wedding dress with shaking hands, letting the torn fabric pool at your feet. The cool air kissed your bare skin as you pulled Toji’s shirt over your head. It smelled faintly of smoke, soap, and something unmistakably masculine. The hem fell halfway down your thighs.
When you stepped back out, Toji turned around. His eyes darkened the moment they landed on you in his shirt.
“Better,” he grunted, though his voice sounded rougher than before.
He gestured toward the narrow hallway. “Bedroom’s at the end. Only one bed. You take it tonight. I’ll sleep out here.”
You hesitated. “I can sleep on the floor. I’ve already caused enough—”
“Don’t argue,” he cut you off. “My house, my rules. Get some sleep. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
You walked carefully down the short hall, every step still painful. The bedroom was small and simple like the rest of the apartment — a large wooden bed with thick blankets, a single chair, and a window overlooking the dark village street. You climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers over yourself.
Toji appeared in the doorway a minute later, leaning one broad shoulder against the frame. The firelight from the main room silhouetted his massive form.
“Door stays open,” he said. “And don’t even think about sneaking out in the middle of the night. If I have to chase you down, I won’t be in a generous mood.”
You nodded, sinking deeper into the mattress. Exhaustion was pulling at you hard now, but sleep still felt far away with him standing there watching you.
“Toji…” you whispered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” you said again, softer. “For not throwing me out.”
His expression didn’t soften, but something in his eyes shifted. He pushed off the doorframe and turned to leave.
“Get some sleep, runaway,” he muttered. “You’re gonna need it.”
He left the door wide open. You heard him moving around in the main room — the creak of the wooden chair as he sat down, the quiet clink of a cup. The fire continued to crackle.
You lay there in his bed, wrapped in his shirt, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you. The fake marriage. The village women who now believed you were his wife. Lord Kato still out there searching. And the terrifying, strangely careful butcher who had just tended to your wounds and given you his bed.
Sleep finally claimed you, but even in your dreams you could still feel the heavy weight of Toji’s gaze on your skin.
You woke to the sound of knocking.
It was loud, cheerful, and relentless — three sharp raps on the shop door downstairs, followed by muffled feminine voices. Sunlight streamed through the small bedroom window, warm and golden. For a brief, disoriented moment you forgot where you were. Then everything crashed back: the forest, the blood-stained butcher, the lie you’d told.
You sat up quickly. Toji’s oversized linen shirt had ridden up your thighs during the night. Your feet still ached, but the bandages held firm. You heard heavy footsteps downstairs, then Toji’s low, irritated growl as he opened the door.
“Morning!” a cheerful woman’s voice called up. “We brought breakfast for the newlyweds! Fresh bread, stew, and honey cakes. Don’t tell us you’re still in bed on your wedding night!”
Another woman giggled. “We’re dying to meet your bride properly!”
Toji’s heavy footsteps came up the stairs. He appeared in the bedroom doorway, looking imposing in the daylight. He wore a clean black tunic stretched tight across his chest, the same blood-stained apron tied around his waist. His hair was messy, jaw set with clear annoyance.
“They’re here,” he said flatly. “Three of them. Loaded with food.”
Your stomach twisted. “What do we do?”
Toji’s green eyes dragged over you — bare legs, wearing nothing but his shirt. Something dark flickered across his face.
“You sold us as newlyweds,” he reminded you, voice low. “So act like it. Smile. Look happy. Keep the story straight.”
He stepped closer and tugged the hem of the shirt down your thighs possessively. “There’s a spare skirt and blouse in the chest. Change. Quickly.”
You moved fast, wincing at the pain in your feet. Toji turned his back while you dressed in the simple dark green skirt and cream blouse. They were a little loose but far more practical.
When you were ready, Toji gave you one last look and jerked his head toward the stairs. “Downstairs. Remember — you’re my wife.”
The three women had already let themselves into the front of the shop. They had laid out a generous spread on the wooden counter: warm bread, a pot of hearty stew, honey cakes, and spiced cider. The moment you appeared behind Toji, their faces lit up.
“Oh, here she is!” the tallest, round-faced woman exclaimed. “Look at you, dear. Much better than last night. I’m Mrs. Sato, by the way! My husband runs the bakery just down the street.” She gestured to the other two. “This is Mira and little Hana.”
The younger women smiled warmly.
“You clean up beautifully,” Mira said. “You already have that newlywed glow!”
You felt heat rise in your cheeks. Toji’s large hand settled heavily on your lower back, warm and claiming.
“Thank you,” you said, offering a shy smile. “You’re all so kind. I’m sorry for how I looked last night… the journey through the forest was harder than I expected.”
Mrs. Sato waved her hand. “No apologies needed! Running away from a bad match to be with the man you love? It’s the most romantic thing to happen in this village in years.”
Toji grunted, his thumb slowly stroking your spine. “Wasn’t exactly planned,” he said dryly. “But here we are.”
The women laughed and chattered while you helped serve the food. They asked how you met, how long you’d been secretly courting, and whether you planned to stay in the village. You answered carefully, sticking close to the story. Toji added short, gruff confirmations, never moving far from your side.
Just as the women were gathering their empty baskets to leave, a loud, sharp knock echoed through the shop.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
This knock was different — heavy, authoritative, and impatient.
Toji’s hand tensed on your back. His expression hardened instantly.
Mrs. Sato glanced toward the door, curious. “Are you expecting more visitors already?”
Toji didn’t answer. He moved toward the door, positioning himself so his broad frame blocked most of the view inside. You stayed behind the counter, heart suddenly hammering.
He opened the door.
Two armed men stood outside, wearing the dark crimson and gold colors of Lord Kato’s household. Swords hung at their hips. Their eyes scanned the interior of the shop coldly.
“We’re searching for a missing girl,” the taller guard announced. “Runaway bride. White wedding dress. She fled the lord’s estate last night. Anyone matching that description come through here?”
The air in the shop grew thick. Mrs. Sato and the other two women turned to look at you with wide eyes, then back at the guards.
Toji’s voice was calm but ice-cold. “No one like that here.”
The second guard tried to peer past him. “Mind if we take a look inside?”
You stayed frozen behind the counter, heart hammering. Before Toji could answer, Mrs. Sato stepped forward with the confidence of someone who had gossiped through every scandal the village had ever seen.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said brightly, waving a hand. “You boys are wasting your time. That right there is Toji Fushiguro — our butcher for the last fifteen years. We’ve known him since he was a surly teenager dragging whole pigs through these doors!”
Mira immediately jumped in, nodding eagerly. “And he has a wife! They’ve been happily married for two whole years now. We were at their quiet little wedding ourselves. Very romantic.”
Hana clapped her hands together dramatically. “Yes! They’re the sweetest couple. Toji can barely keep his hands off her even when he’s covered in blood. Always canoodling right outside the shop like they’re still courting!”
Mrs. Sato leaned toward the guards like she was sharing precious village lore. “Honestly, if some runaway noble girl in a fancy white dress had shown up here last night, the entire village would’ve known before sunrise. This dear girl has been living above the shop for ages. Helps Toji with the accounts and everything. She’s no fugitive — she’s the butcher’s wife, plain and simple.”
Toji finally moved. He reached back with one thick arm, caught you around the waist, and pulled you forward against his side in one smooth motion. His grip was firm and possessive, his large hand resting heavily on your hip as he held you close.
The guards blinked, clearly thrown by the united front.
The taller one squinted at you. “But the missing girl was wearing a white wedding dress…”
Mira let out a theatrical laugh. “Plenty of white dresses in the world! Our girl here has been wearing plain village clothes for years. Look at her — does she look like some pampered noble who ran away last night?”
Hana nodded vigorously. “Exactly! She even makes the best meat pies in the village. We’d know if she was some lord’s bride.”
The two guards exchanged uncertain glances. Between Toji’s intimidating size, the three women’s absolute certainty, and the perfectly domestic scene in front of them, their suspicion melted away.
The shorter guard cleared his throat. “Seems like a false lead, then. Sorry to bother you folks.”
The taller one gave a reluctant nod. “Apologies for the intrusion. If you hear anything about a girl in a white dress, send word to the lord’s estate.”
Mrs. Sato smiled sweetly. “Of course, dears. Safe travels back!”
The guards turned and walked off down the street without another word.
The moment the door clicked shut, Mrs. Sato burst into laughter and fanned herself. “Well! That was more excitement than we usually get before noon.”
Mira winked at you. “Don’t worry, love. We’ve got your back. No one’s taking the butcher’s wife anywhere.”
Hana grinned. “We’ll spread the word. The whole village will keep an eye out.”
Toji gave them a short, gruff nod. “Appreciate it.”
The women gathered their empty baskets, still buzzing, and finally left with more promises of future visits and gifts.
The shop fell quiet again, morning sunlight streaming peacefully through the windows.
Toji slowly turned to face you. His hand was still on your waist, heavy and warm. For a long moment he just studied you, green eyes dark and intense.
“You’re damn lucky those three are the nosiest women alive,” he muttered. “They just sold that story better than we could’ve.”
He stepped closer, backing you gently against the counter. His voice dropped low, rough around the edges.
“So the whole village’s got our back it seems.” His thumb brushed slowly over your hip bone. “This lie keeps growing. Whole village thinks you’re mine now.”
His gaze dropped to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes.
“So tell me, runaway… how long do you plan on playing my wife? And how far are you willing to go to make everyone believe it?”
You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was. The counter pressed into your lower back, and Toji’s broad body blocked out most of the morning light. His hand remained heavy on your hip, thumb still tracing slow, absent circles that made your skin prickle beneath the thin blouse.
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think past getting away from Lord Kato. I just wanted to survive the night.”
Toji hummed, low and thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face like he was trying to decide whether you were worth the growing headache you’d brought him.
“Surviving isn’t enough anymore,” he said. “Not after this morning. Those guards will report back. When they don’t find you, Kato will send more men. Maybe even come himself.” His fingers flexed on your hip. “And the whole village now believes you’re mine. If the story breaks, they’ll look like fools. They won’t forgive that easily.”
You met his eyes, heart thudding. “Then what do we do?”
For a moment he didn’t answer. Instead he reached up with his free hand and brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, the gesture surprisingly gentle for someone so rough-looking. His calloused fingertips lingered against the side of your neck.
“We lean into it,” he finally said. “Hard. You stay. You act like my wife in public — every smile, every touch, every time someone knocks on that door. No slipping up. No running off when it gets hard.”
He leaned in a fraction closer, voice dropping. “And in private… we figure out the real terms.”
Your breath caught. “Real terms?”
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, dangerous half-smirk. “You cost me peace and quiet, runaway. You cost me the simple life where nobody bothered me. So you’re going to start paying me back.”
He didn’t elaborate, but the heat in his green eyes made it very clear what kind of payment he had in mind.
“I won’t force you,” he continued, surprising you. “Door’s right there. You can still walk out and take your chances on the road. But if you stay…” His hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “Then you’re mine until this blows over. Or longer. Depends how good you are at pretending.”
The solid wall of his chest pressed against you, warm and unyielding. You could smell faint traces of smoke, soap, and the metallic hint of blood that never quite left him. Your hands came up instinctively, resting lightly on his abdomen.
“I’m not pretending right now,” you whispered.
Toji’s eyes darkened. For a second you thought he might kiss you — really kiss you — but he held back, letting the tension stretch until it was almost unbearable.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because the village expects a devoted wife. They’ll be watching. Bringing food. Asking questions. Asking when we’re going to have little butchers running around.”
Your face burned. Toji chuckled, deep and rough, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“Don’t worry. We’ll give them a good show.” He finally stepped back, giving you room to breathe again, though his hand lingered on your waist a moment longer. “For now, help me open the shop. Act natural. If anyone else comes asking, you know what to say.”
You nodded, still flushed.
As he turned to start his morning routine — sharpening knives, hanging fresh cuts, preparing the counter — you moved to help where you could. Every time you passed near him, his hand would brush your lower back or arm — small, deliberate touches that looked casual to anyone watching but felt heavy with intent.
By midday, a few villagers had already stopped by “just to say hello” and congratulate the newlyweds. Each time, Toji played his part perfectly — gruff, possessive, pulling you close with an ease that made the performance feel dangerously real.
An older man dropped off a small basket of eggs and clapped Toji on the back. “Didn’t think I’d live to see you settle down, Fushiguro. She must be something special.”
Toji’s arm tightened around your waist as he gave a low grunt. “She is.” His fingers flexed against your side, warm through the fabric of your blouse. You leaned into him instinctively, playing along, and felt the solid wall of muscle beneath his tunic.
A young mother came next with her toddler in tow, offering a jar of preserved berries. She smiled at you brightly. “You two look so good together. How long have you been hiding her from us, Toji?”
“Long enough,” he answered, voice rough but carrying a hint of smugness. He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your head right in front of her. The casual affection made your stomach flutter.
By early afternoon the steady trickle of visitors finally slowed. Toji flipped the shop sign to “Closed for the Day” and locked the front door with a heavy click. The sudden silence felt louder than all the chatter combined.
You let out a shaky breath and leaned against the counter, arms wrapped around yourself. “They really believe it. All of them.”
Toji wiped his hands on a rag, watching you from across the room. He tossed the rag aside and stalked toward you, slow and deliberate.
Gods, he was huge.
Up close like this, in the quiet afternoon light, the sheer size of him hit you all over again. Broad shoulders that seemed to stretch the fabric of his black tunic, thick arms corded with muscle from years of hauling heavy carcasses, a powerful chest that rose and fell steadily. The jagged scar at the corner of his mouth only made him more striking — dangerous, rough, and strangely, undeniably attractive. Those sharp green eyes pinned you in place, intimidating as ever, yet there was something magnetic about the way he moved. Like a predator who knew exactly how much power he held and chose not to use it… yet.
He stopped right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. One large hand came up to cup your chin, thumb brushing along your jaw.
“You’re handling this better than I expected,” he said quietly.
You felt your pulse quicken under his touch. “I feel like I’m going to faint every time someone looks at me.”
His thumb stroked slowly over your skin. “You’re not fainting. You’re standing here in my shop, wearing my clothes, letting me touch you like you belong to me.” His voice dropped lower. “Looks pretty convincing from where I’m standing.”
The air between you thickened. You could smell the faint mix of blood, woodsmoke, and clean sweat that clung to him. His sheer physical presence was overwhelming — the heat rolling off his massive frame, the way his broad chest nearly brushed against you with every breath.
“What happens when the guards come back?” you asked, voice softer than you intended.
Toji’s expression darkened. “Then we give them the same show. Or I handle it my way.” His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair. “But right now? Shop’s closed. No more visitors. No more pretending for a little while.”
He didn’t move away. Neither did you.
Instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, exhaustion and adrenaline twisting into something warmer, heavier. Your hands rose to rest on his chest, feeling the hard, solid muscle beneath your palms.
“Toji…” you started, unsure what you even wanted to say.
He cut you off with a low sound. “Careful. You keep saying my name like that and I might start believing this marriage is real myself.”
His grip on the back of your neck tightened just slightly — not painful, but enough to remind you how easily he could pull you in. His green eyes dropped to your mouth, lingering this time, dark with hunger.
“You still haven’t answered my question from earlier,” he murmured. “How far are you willing to go, runaway?”
The shop was quiet except for the distant sounds of village life outside. No one was watching now. It was just the two of you, the weight of the lie, and the growing, electric heat between you.
You wet your lips, heart racing.
“I’m still here,” you whispered. “That should tell you something.”
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, hungry smirk.
“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “It does.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than before. The shop was quiet now, the afternoon light cutting sharp lines across the wooden floor and the rows of knives hanging on the wall. Toji didn’t step back. He stayed right there, towering over you, one hand still gripping the back of your neck while the other rested heavy on your hip.
He really was massive up close.
Broad shoulders that strained his tunic, thick arms veined and scarred from years of brutal work, a chest so solid it looked like it could take a hit from a horse and keep going. The scar at the corner of his mouth gave his face a permanent edge, dangerous and rough. Yet there was something about the way he looked at you — intense green eyes, half-lidded, focused — that made your stomach tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
Toji noticed you staring.
“Eyes up here,” he muttered, but the corner of his scarred mouth twitched like he was amused. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna get the wrong idea.”
You swallowed. “I’ve never been this close to someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” he repeated, almost mocking. He leaned in a little more, voice dropping low. “Big, ugly butcher covered in blood half the time?”
You shook your head. “Not ugly.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them. Toji paused, eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to decide if you were lying. Then he let out a short, rough breath.
His thumb brushed slowly along the side of your neck, calloused and warm. You could feel the strength in his hand, how easily he could tighten his grip if he wanted. The contrast between that raw power and the way he was holding back made the air feel thick.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before flicking back up. “I’m not a patient man, runaway. And I’m definitely not a gentle one.”
Your hands were still pressed against his chest. Under your palms, his muscles were firm and warm, shifting slightly with each breath. You didn’t pull away.
“I know,” you whispered.
Toji’s jaw flexed. For a moment his control looked strained — shoulders tense, fingers pressing harder into your skin. He leaned down until his face was inches from yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath.
“If you stay,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “this stops being fake whenever I say it does. Behind this door, you won’t be playing a role. You’ll be in my bed. Under me. Taking what I give you.” His thumb dragged across your lower lip. “And you’ll moan my name like you mean it.”
Your breath caught.
Toji held your gaze for another long second, then slowly released you. He stepped back, rolling one shoulder like he needed to shake off the tension. The sudden space felt colder than it should have.
“But not right now,” he added gruffly. “You’re still half-dead on your feet and I’ve got work to finish before the meat spoils.”
He turned toward the back counter and picked up his sharpening stone. The steady scrape of metal filled the shop as he worked on one of his larger knives. You stayed by the front counter, watching the way his back and arms moved — powerful, efficient, every motion reminding you exactly what kind of man had just offered to claim you.
Every so often he glanced over at you, eyes dark and unreadable.
The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged. Heavy with everything neither of you was saying out loud.
After a while, Toji spoke without looking up from his work.
“You hungry?”
You blinked, surprised by the sudden normal question. “A little.”
He jerked his head toward the stairs. “There’s leftover stew from this morning in the pot upstairs. Heat it up if you want. Or stay down here. Doesn’t matter to me.”
You hesitated, then moved to help him organize the counter instead. Every time you passed close by, his arm would brush yours — deliberate, not accidental. Small reminders that the tension hadn’t gone anywhere.
The afternoon stretched on like that. Quiet work. Occasional glances. The weight of his presence never really leaving you.
By the time the sun had fully set and the village outside grew dark and quiet, the tension between you had only thickened. Lanterns flickered in distant windows, but inside the butcher shop everything felt hushed and intimate.
Toji locked the front door with a heavy click and killed most of the lanterns, leaving only a single low one burning near the stairs. The warm glow followed you both upstairs, casting long shadows across the wooden beams.
He grabbed a spare blanket from the chest and headed for the worn couch against the far wall without a word. The piece of furniture looked comically small beneath his massive frame as he tossed the blanket over it. Then he reached back and pulled his tunic off in one smooth motion.
Your mouth went dry.
Firelight danced over his bare back and shoulders — thick slabs of muscle shifting under scarred skin, powerful arms flexing as he folded the tunic. His waist tapered into a sharp V, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. Every inch of him looked hard, battle-worn, and undeniably masculine. The sight made something low in your belly tighten.
You stood frozen in the bedroom doorway.
“Wait,” you said, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Toji glanced over his shoulder, one dark brow raised. The movement made the muscles in his chest and abdomen flex visibly.
You twisted your fingers in the hem of your blouse, cheeks already burning.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” you offered shyly. “The bed is… big enough for both of us. I don’t mind sharing.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Toji slowly turned around to face you fully. The low firelight carved deep shadows across his torso, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every old scar, the faint trail of dark hair disappearing into his trousers. He looked even bigger like this — raw power barely contained, green eyes locked on you with dangerous intensity.
He took one slow step closer, then another.
“Careful what you offer me, runaway,” he said, voice low and gravel-rough. “I’m not the type to hold back.”
You swallowed hard but didn’t back away.
“I just… it doesn’t feel right making you sleep on that tiny thing after everything,” you murmured, eyes flicking involuntarily down his bare chest before snapping back up. “We’re supposed to be married. At least to everyone else.”
Toji stopped just inches away from you. The heat radiating from his body wrapped around you like a cloak. You could smell him — smoke, clean sweat, and that faint metallic trace that always clung to his skin. His sheer size made you feel small and fragile in comparison.
He tilted his head, studying you like prey.
“You offering to share my bed isn’t about being polite,” he murmured. “If I get in that bed with you, I’m not staying on my side. I’ll pull you against me. I’ll have my hands all over that soft little body. And if you keep looking at me with those wide, needy eyes…”
He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke.
“I won’t be able to stop myself from spreading those pretty thighs and finding out exactly how wet pretending to be my wife has made you.”
Your breath hitched sharply. Heat flooded your face and pooled between your legs. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, but Toji noticed — of course he did. A dark, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.
He pulled back just enough to look at your face again, eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.
“I’m not gentle,” he continued, voice dropping even lower. “I fuck hard. I take what I want. And right now, I want to ruin that shy little runaway who dropped to her knees at my door and turned my whole life upside down.”
His hand came up, knuckles lightly dragging down the side of your neck, over your racing pulse, then lower until they brushed the neckline of your blouse. Not quite touching skin, but close enough to make you shiver.
“So think very carefully before you offer again,” he warned. “Because once I’m in that bed, the only pretending left will be how long you can keep quiet while I’m buried inside you.”
The air felt too thick to breathe.
Toji’s scarred mouth curved into a slow, predatory smirk as he watched the effect his words had on you.
“Still want to share a bed with me… wife?”
Toji’s words hung heavy in the air.
You didn’t answer with words.
You looked up at him, heart hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat, and gave a small, shy nod.
That was all it took.
Toji’s control snapped. A low, almost feral sound rumbled in his chest as he moved. In one fluid motion he scooped you up, one thick arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you like you weighed nothing. Your breath caught at how easily he carried you — his biceps flexing hard against your body, the heat of his bare chest pressing into your side.
He carried you the few steps to the bed and laid you down on your back with surprising care, but the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. The mattress dipped deeply under his weight as he climbed over you, caging you in completely with his massive frame. His broad shoulders blocked out most of the firelight, leaving you in shadow beneath him.
“You a virgin?” he asked, voice low and rough, green eyes searching yours like he was looking for any hesitation.
You nodded again, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the word almost reverent. His gaze darkened as it dragged slowly down your body. “Gonna have to take my time with you then. Can’t wreck this tight little virgin cunt on the first thrust.”
He kissed you deeply, tongue claiming your mouth in slow, filthy strokes while his rough hands explored every inch of you. He took his time peeling your clothes off — first tugging your blouse over your head, then sliding your skirt down your legs, and finally hooking his fingers into your soaked panties and dragging them off. When you were completely naked beneath him, he sat back on his heels and just stared, drinking in every inch of your exposed body like a man who’d been starving for weeks.
“So fucking small,” he muttered, almost to himself. His large hands ran up your thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin on the inside, then spread your legs wide open. “Look at this pretty virgin pussy… already glistening and I’ve barely touched you.”
The cool air hit your wet folds and you shivered. Toji’s eyes were locked between your legs, dark and hungry, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He lowered himself between your spread thighs like a man on a mission. The first slow, hot drag of his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your clit made your entire body jolt. Toji groaned deeply at your taste, the sound vibrating straight through you.
“Sweet as hell,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Could eat this pussy for hours.”
Then he devoured you.
His tongue worked in slow, broad strokes, licking every inch of your soaked folds before focusing on your swollen clit. He sucked the sensitive bud into his hot mouth, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue while two thick fingers teased your entrance, circling and pressing but not pushing in yet. When you started whimpering and rolling your hips, he finally pushed one thick finger inside you — careful, but relentless.
“So goddamn tight,” he growled against your pussy, the vibration making your toes curl. “This little hole is gonna fight my cock the whole way in.”
He curled his finger slowly, searching, until he found that spongy spot that made your back arch. He rubbed it firmly while sucking harder on your clit. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the quiet bedroom — slick, filthy, and loud. Your thighs started trembling around his head as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.
“Toji— oh gods—”
He didn’t let up. He ate you out like he was starving for it — messy, hungry, and completely focused on pulling every sound out of you. He added a second finger, stretching you open carefully, scissoring them while his tongue flicked fast and firm over your clit. The pressure built unbearably fast.
Your orgasm crashed over you without warning. Your back arched clean off the bed as you came hard on his face with a broken, sobbing cry of his name. Your walls clamped down around his fingers, pulsing wildly.
Toji licked you through every wave, slow and thorough, drawing out every last tremor until you were twitching and oversensitive, whimpering softly. Only then did he pull back. His chin and lips were shiny with your slick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and satisfied as he looked up at your flushed, panting face.
Then he shoved his trousers down.
His cock sprang free — thick, heavy, veined, and longer than anything you’d ever imagined. The flushed head was already leaking steadily.
“See this?” he said, stroking himself slowly. “This is gonna stretch you wide open, baby. But I’ll make it fit.”
He climbed back over you, pushing your legs up and folding your knees toward your chest. The position left you completely exposed. He rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down your drenched folds, coating himself in your wetness, teasing your clit with every pass.
“Deep breaths,” he warned. “Gonna go slow.”
He pushed in.
The stretch was intense. You gasped sharply, a high-pitched whimper escaping you as just the thick head popped inside. “Ah—! Toji… it’s so big…”
Toji groaned, jaw clenched tight as he fought the urge to slam forward. “Fuck— so tight,” he hissed. “Relax for me, baby. Let me in.”
You whimpered softly, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “It burns… but— ah— don’t stop…”
He worked himself in inch by slow, careful inch. Every time you tensed, he stopped, leaning down to kiss your neck or suck on your tits until you loosened again. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the restraint.
Halfway in, you let out a shaky moan, eyes fluttering. “Oh gods… I can feel you so deep already…”
Toji looked down at the bulge already forming in your lower belly. “Shit… look at that,” he groaned, pressing a big hand over the swell. “My cock’s barely halfway and I can already see it inside you.”
When he finally bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, you felt so full you could barely breathe. A broken whimper left your lips. “T-Toji… you’re all the way in… I feel so full…”
Toji stayed still, buried to the hilt, letting you adjust while he kissed you slow and deep. “Good girl,” he praised, voice strained. “Taking every inch of my cock on your first time. Such a perfect little wife.”
When your whimpers turned into soft, needy moans, he started moving — slow, deep rolls of his hips at first. The wet drag of his thick cock against your walls made you cry out.
“Feel that?” he growled. “Feel how deep I am? Gonna breed this cunt so full tonight.”
“Ah—! Yes… I feel it,” you moaned, voice trembling. “It’s so deep… Toji—!”
His pace gradually picked up. The bed started creaking rhythmically as he fucked you harder, deeper. Your tits bounced with every thrust. You couldn’t stop the desperate sounds spilling from your mouth.
“Gonna fill you up,” he panted. “Pump this tight womb full of my cum until it takes. Want you walking around the village with my kid growing inside you. Everyone’s gonna know exactly who fucked you first.”
The filthy words sent you spiraling. “Please— Toji— I’m gonna—!” You came hard around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing him like a vice as you screamed his name, “Toji—! Ahh—!”
Toji snarled and fucked you through it, pace turning brutal. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed loudly.
“Fuck— gonna cum,” he groaned. “Gonna breed you— take it all—”
You whimpered and moaned beneath him, voice hoarse, “Cum inside me… please— fill me up—!”
He slammed in deep one final time and came with a long, guttural moan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after heavy pulse. There was so much it leaked out around his cock despite how tightly you were stretched around him. Toji kept grinding deep, pushing every drop into your womb, hand pressing down on the bulge in your belly like he wanted to keep it all inside you.
You let out a soft, overwhelmed whimper at the feeling of being so full of him.
He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, chest heaving against yours, both of you slick with sweat.
Then he leaned down, kissed you slow and possessive, and murmured against your lips:
“This cunt belongs to me.”
Toji stayed inside you for a while longer, gently grinding and kissing your neck, before he finally pulled out with a low groan. A thick trickle of his cum leaked from your abused hole onto the sheets. He looked down at the mess with dark satisfaction, then rolled onto his back and pulled you against his chest.
“Rest now,” he said quietly, voice rough but surprisingly gentle as he wrapped a heavy arm around you. “You’ve had a long day, runaway. Close your eyes.”
He pressed one last kiss to the top of your head, his large hand resting possessively on your lower belly.
“Go to sleep.”
-
You woke up to warmth.
A heavy, solid arm was draped across your waist, pinning you to a broad chest. Toji’s body was curled around yours from behind, one thick thigh wedged between your legs. His breathing was slow and deep, but the moment you shifted even slightly, his grip tightened possessively.
The room was still dim, early morning light just beginning to creep through the small window. Your body ached — a deep, satisfying soreness between your thighs, faint bruises on your hips from his fingers, and the unmistakable sticky warmth of his cum still leaking out of you.
You tried to move again, but Toji’s low, sleepy growl stopped you.
“Stay,” he muttered against the back of your neck, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid down to cup your lower belly, pressing lightly. “Not done holding you yet.”
Heat rushed to your face. You stayed still, letting him pull you tighter against him. His cock — already half-hard again — rested heavy against your ass.
After a few quiet minutes, Toji sighed and finally loosened his grip. He rolled you onto your back so he could look down at you. His hair was messy, eyes still heavy-lidded, but the smirk on his scarred mouth was fully awake.
“Morning,” he said, voice gravelly. His hand stayed on your stomach, thumb stroking slow circles. “How’re you feeling?”
You shifted, wincing a little at the soreness. “Full… and sore,” you admitted softly.
Toji’s smirk widened into something darker, more satisfied. He leaned down and kissed you — slow and lazy at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours. When he pulled back, he dragged his hand lower, fingers brushing through the mess between your thighs.
“Still leaking my cum,” he murmured, almost proud. “Good.”
He pushed two thick fingers back inside you, slow and careful, fucking his dried cum deeper. You whimpered, hips twitching.
“Toji—”
“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your temple. “Not fucking you again right now. You’re too sore.” He kept his fingers inside you anyway, lazy and possessive. “Just keeping you full.”
You stayed like that for a while — his fingers buried inside you, his mouth brushing lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. The morning was quiet except for the occasional creak of the bed and your soft sounds.
Eventually he pulled his fingers out, brought them to his mouth, and licked them clean while watching your face.
“Breakfast,” he said simply. “Then we open the shop.”
He got up first, completely naked and shameless. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the powerful lines of his back, the flex of his ass and thighs as he moved. He caught you looking and chuckled.
“Keep staring like that and I will bend you over the table downstairs,” he warned.
You quickly looked away, cheeks burning.
He tossed you one of his clean shirts and a fresh skirt. While you dressed, he pulled on his usual trousers and tank top, tying his blood-stained apron around his waist.
Before you left the bedroom, he caught your wrist and pulled you close one more time. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
“Last night wasn’t pretend,” he said quietly, eyes serious. “Not for me. You’re mine. Understand?”
You swallowed and whispered, “I understand.”
He kissed you again — hard, claiming — then rested his forehead against yours for a second.
“Good.”
He led you downstairs, his hand firm on your lower back the entire way.
The village was waking up outside. And for the first time since you’d run away, you didn’t feel like running anymore.
Toji unlocked the front door and flipped the sign while you tied on a clean apron. The morning air carried the smell of fresh bread from Mrs. Sato’s bakery and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. A few early customers began drifting toward the shop.
The first hour passed in a surprisingly calm rhythm. You helped weigh portions, wrap cuts of meat in clean paper, and hand them over with a shy smile. Toji stayed close the whole time — sometimes reaching past you for a knife, sometimes resting a hand on your waist as he moved behind you. Every touch felt deliberate, like he was marking his territory even when no one was watching.
Then the bell above the door rang again.
A tall, sun-tanned man with kind eyes and an easy, friendly smile stepped inside. He looked to be in his late twenties, with the strong build of someone who spent his days working the fields. He greeted Toji with a familiar nod.
“Morning, Fushiguro. The usual shoulder cut, please.” His gaze shifted to you behind the counter and softened with genuine interest. “You must be the new wife everyone’s been talking about. I’m Haru. I run the big farm past the mill.”
You returned his smile politely. “Nice to meet you, Haru.”
He watched as you carefully wrapped his order, your hands still a little clumsy with the butcher paper. “It’s good to see a new face around here,” he said warmly. “You seem really kind. Gentle. The kind of person who makes a place feel brighter just by being in it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost shyly. “If you ever need anything — extra vegetables from the farm, help carrying something heavy, or just someone to talk to when things get quiet — my door’s always open. Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely so soon after moving in.”
You tilted your head, completely oblivious to any hidden meaning, and gave him a grateful smile. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Before you could say anything else, the air behind you changed.
Toji’s large hand settled heavily on your hip, fingers digging in with clear possession as he pulled you back firmly against his chest. His other arm slid around your waist, locking you in place.
“She won’t be needing anything,” Toji said, his voice low and dangerously even. “I take care of my wife.”
Haru blinked, the friendly smile faltering as he finally registered the tension rolling off the butcher. “Of course. I was just… being neighborly.”
Toji’s grip on your hip tightened. “Neighborly is saying hello. The rest sounded like something else.”
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Haru swallowed hard, quickly paid for his meat, and muttered a polite goodbye before leaving without another word. The door swung shut behind him with a soft jingle.
The second he was gone, Toji spun you around and backed you against the counter. His green eyes were dark, jaw clenched tight with barely-contained jealousy. One big hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing lightly against your bottom lip.
“You really didn’t notice?” he muttered, voice rough.
You shook your head, genuinely confused. “He was just being nice…”
Toji let out a short, irritated breath and leaned in closer, forehead almost touching yours. “He wasn’t just being nice. He was testing the waters. Seeing if my wife might be open to something else. Offering you a soft place to land if you ever got tired of me.”
His other hand slid under your skirt, fingers brushing between your thighs and finding you still slick from the night before. You gasped softly as he pushed two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them slowly.
“Toji—”
“Mine,” he growled quietly against your ear, pumping his fingers in a lazy rhythm. “This pussy is mine. You are mine. I don’t want you smiling so sweetly at other men. Understand?”
You whimpered, clutching his shoulders as pleasure sparked through your still-sensitive body. “I understand…”
He kissed you then — hard, possessive, and hungry — while his fingers continued their slow, deliberate strokes. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark with jealousy.
“Next time someone talks to you like that,” he said, voice low, “you let me handle it.”
He reluctantly withdrew his fingers, straightened your skirt, and stepped back like nothing had happened. But the tension in his shoulders and the dark look in his eyes remained.
“Back to work,” he said gruffly, still clearly worked up.
You nodded, legs shaky, heart racing, and turned back to the counter.
The rest of the morning passed with Toji staying even closer than before — a constant, heavy, possessive presence at your side. Every time another customer entered, his hand found your waist or lower back, silently reminding everyone (and you) exactly who you belonged to.
The rest of the morning dragged on with the same heavy tension.
Every time a male customer stepped through the door, Toji’s demeanor shifted. His hand would find your waist, your hip, or the small of your back — a silent, unmistakable claim. He answered questions in short, clipped tones and watched the men with sharp, warning eyes. You tried to focus on wrapping orders and smiling politely, but the constant possessiveness was becoming impossible to ignore.
By early afternoon, when the shop finally quieted again, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
You turned to him while he was wiping down the counter.
“Toji,” you said softly, “you’re being too much.”
He paused, setting the rag down slowly. When he looked at you, his green eyes had gone dark.
“Too much?” he repeated, voice low and deceptively calm.
You swallowed but stood your ground. “Yes. The constant touching, the glaring at every man who even looks at me... They’re just customers.”
Toji stared at you for a long, heavy beat. Then he slowly walked around the counter, backing you up until your hips hit the edge. He caged you in with his massive frame, one hand braced beside you on the wood, the other coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“You think I’m being too possessive?” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Tell me something, wife… What kind of husband would I be if I let other men think they can have access to what’s mine?”
His voice was rough, low, and dangerous. “If I smiled and stepped aside while they flirted with you? While they offered you help and soft words like they had any right to you?”
He leaned in closer, breath hot against your ear. “I’d be a fucking joke. A weak man who doesn’t know how to protect what belongs to him. And I’m not weak.”
His free hand slid under your skirt without warning, fingers pushing between your thighs. You were bare underneath. The moment his calloused fingertips brushed your folds, he groaned softly — low and rough — when he found you already wet again.
“Already soaked,” he muttered, voice thick with satisfaction. “Complaining about me being too possessive, but your pussy is dripping the second I touch you.”
“Toji—” you whimpered, hips twitching as two thick fingers pushed inside you in one smooth motion. The stretch made you gasp, your walls still tender and sensitive from the night before.
He curled his fingers slowly, deliberately, stroking that spongy spot deep inside you while his thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, firm circles. His mouth latched onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark, teeth grazing your skin as he worked you open.
You moaned, loud and broken, clutching desperately at his broad shoulders. Your legs trembled around his wrist as pleasure sparked hot and fast through your body.
“You can tell me I’m too much,” he growled against your throat, biting down lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. “But we both know the truth. You like it when I act like this. You like knowing no one else can touch you. You like being mine.”
His fingers pumped faster, curling with every thrust, the wet, obscene sounds of your arousal filling the quiet shop. Your hips rolled against his hand instinctively, chasing the pleasure even as your thighs shook.
“Ah— Toji… please—” you moaned, voice cracking. Your head fell back, exposing more of your neck to him. He took full advantage, sucking and biting along your skin while his fingers drove deeper, faster.
You were right there — teetering on the edge, muscles tightening around his thick fingers — when he suddenly pulled his hand away completely.
You let out a desperate, needy whine, hips chasing his fingers uselessly. Your core throbbed, aching and empty.
“Toji…!” you whimpered, voice hoarse and frustrated, eyes glassy with unshed tears of need. “Please— I was so close…”
Toji smirked, dark and satisfied, eyes gleaming with lust as he watched you squirm. He brought his glistening fingers up between you, holding them in front of your face so you could see how wet they were — coated in your slick right up to his knuckles.
“Open,” he ordered, voice low and commanding.
You obeyed instantly, parting your lips. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, letting you taste yourself as you sucked them clean, tongue swirling around them obediently. His green eyes darkened further, pupils blown wide as he watched you.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice rough with arousal. “Look at you… so fucking eager. Whining because I stopped, sucking my fingers like you’d do anything for my cock right now.”
He pulled his fingers free with a wet pop and leaned in, kissing you deeply, tasting you on your own tongue. When he pulled back, his breath was ragged.
“You can complain about me being possessive all you want,” he said, voice dark and low, “but your body doesn’t lie. This pussy knows exactly who it belongs to.”
He suddenly lifted you onto the counter with ease, as if you weighed nothing. The wood was cool against the backs of your thighs as he shoved your skirt all the way up to your waist in one rough motion, baring your dripping pussy completely. He stepped between your spread thighs, his broad body forcing your legs wider apart until your knees were nearly touching your shoulders.
His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, fingers digging deep into your soft flesh with unmistakable ownership. With his other hand, he freed his cock — thick, heavy, and already throbbing. The veined shaft glistened as he stroked himself once, slowly, eyes locked on your exposed, glistening cunt.
“Since you think I’m too possessive,” he said, voice rough and dangerous, “I’m going to remind you exactly why I am.”
He rubbed the fat, leaking head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating every thick inch in your slick. He teased your swollen clit with every slow pass, tapping it lightly until your hips jerked and you let out a needy whimper.
“Toji… please—”
Without another word, he pushed in with one deep, powerful thrust.
You cried out sharply, back arching hard off the counter as the thick head forced its way inside, stretching you wide open. The sudden, overwhelming fullness stole your breath. Toji groaned deeply, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke, his hips flush against your ass.
“Fuck… still so tight,” he growled, voice strained with pleasure. “Even after I filled you last night. This greedy little cunt keeps sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let go.”
He didn’t give you any time to adjust. He started fucking you hard and deep, the heavy wooden counter creaking loudly under the force of every brutal thrust. Your moans echoed shamelessly through the empty shop as he claimed you right there in the middle of the day.
“Mine,” he snarled against your neck, biting down hard enough to leave another dark mark. “Say it.”
“I’m yours— ah— Toji—!” you moaned, voice breaking as your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, heels digging into his lower back.
He fucked you even harder, hips snapping forward with powerful, punishing strokes. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, loud and filthy. One of his big hands reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, tight circles.
“That’s right,” he panted, breath hot against your ear. “My wife. My pussy. No one else gets to look at you the way I do. No one else gets to touch you. No one else even gets to fucking think about you.”
Your moans grew louder and more desperate, your walls fluttering around his thick cock with every deep thrust. The counter shook beneath you. Your tits bounced wildly inside your blouse with the force of his movements.
He suddenly leaned back slightly, gripping your thighs and spreading you even wider as he drove into you. The new angle made him hit even deeper, the bulge in your lower belly becoming visible with every thrust.
“Look at that,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the spot where his cock disappeared inside you. “You’re taking me so fucking deep. This tight cunt was made for my cock.”
You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside you. “Toji—! It’s too deep— ahh—!”
“You can take it,” he growled, fucking you harder. “You’re going to take everything I give you.”
Your orgasm crashed over you without warning — fast, violent, and overwhelming. Your walls clenched hard around his cock, fluttering and squeezing as waves of intense pleasure tore through your body. You screamed his name, thighs shaking violently around his waist.
Toji snarled like a beast, his rhythm turning erratic and savage as he fucked you through your climax. He kept pounding into you, chasing his own release, hips slamming against yours with wet, filthy sounds.
But he didn’t cum.
Instead, he suddenly slowed his thrusts, grinding deep and slow, keeping you right on the edge of overstimulation. His breathing was ragged, sweat glistening on his chest and neck.
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, possessive kiss while still buried deep inside you.
“You’re not done yet,” he murmured against your lips, voice dark and full of promise. “We’re nowhere near finished.”
Before you could catch your breath, Toji pulled out of you with a wet, obscene sound. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing, already missing the thick stretch of him. But he didn’t give you any time to protest.
In one swift, powerful motion, he flipped you over onto your stomach across the counter. Your chest pressed against the cool, smooth surface, your cheek resting on the wood as he yanked your hips back and up, forcing your ass high in the air. Your skirt was still bunched uselessly around your waist, leaving you completely exposed — bent over like a whore in the middle of his shop.
Toji kicked your legs wider apart with his foot, then pressed one large hand firmly between your shoulder blades, pinning you down hard against the counter.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growled, voice thick with raw lust. “Bent over my counter like a proper little wife. Ass up, pussy dripping for me.”
He spread your ass cheeks wide with both hands, exposing your swollen, abused pussy completely. Without any warning, he spat directly onto your folds — a thick, warm glob of saliva landing right on your clit and dripping down. You gasped sharply at the filthy sensation, your hips twitching.
Toji groaned at the sight and used two thick fingers to rub his spit into your pussy, mixing it with your own slick, pushing it inside you. Then he brought his palm down hard on your ass with a loud, resounding smack.
The sharp sting bloomed hot across your skin. You cried out, jolting forward on the counter.
“Stay still,” he ordered, voice rough. He smacked the other cheek even harder, watching the way your flesh jiggled and turned pink under his hand. “This ass is mine too. Every fucking inch of you is mine.”
You moaned helplessly, pushing back against him despite the sting. Toji lined up the thick head of his cock again and thrust back inside you in one brutal, deep stroke.
The new angle made him feel impossibly bigger, reaching even deeper. You moaned loudly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth wooden counter as he immediately started fucking you hard and fast.
The counter creaked loudly under the force of his powerful thrusts. Each snap of his hips drove his thick cock impossibly deep, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing through the empty shop. Toji’s hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold, pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke like he was using you.
“Fuck— this pussy feels even better like this,” he groaned, voice rough and strained. He smacked your ass again, harder this time, watching the way your flesh rippled red under his palm. “So fucking wet. You like being bent over and used like this, don’t you?”
“Yes— ah— Toji—!” you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool counter, eyes fluttering shut. Every brutal thrust made your breasts press harder into the wood, your sensitive nipples dragging against it.
Toji reached forward and fisted a hand in your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he fucked you even harder. His hips slammed against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. He spat on your pussy again, right where his thick cock was stretching you open, and used his thumb to rub the saliva into your swollen clit.
“Such a messy little wife,” he panted, smacking your ass repeatedly between thrusts — sharp, stinging slaps that made you clench tighter around him. “Dripping all over my counter. Taking my cock so deep like you were made for it. Look at this greedy cunt swallowing every inch.”
Your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure. The combination of his brutal pace, the stinging heat on your ass, and the filthy words pushed you right to the edge again.
Toji leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he kept pounding into you without mercy.
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he growled, smacking your ass one more time, hard enough to make you yelp.
“You—! It belongs to you— Toji—!” you cried out, voice hoarse and desperate.
He snarled in satisfaction and fucked you even harder, the counter shaking beneath you. His hand slipped between your legs again, rubbing your clit fast and rough.
You came with a broken scream, your walls clamping down hard around his thick cock, thighs shaking violently as intense pleasure tore through you.
Toji groaned loudly as your orgasm triggered his own. He slammed in deep one final time and came hard, flooding your pussy with thick, hot spurts of cum. He kept grinding into you slowly, pushing every drop as deep as possible, his hips pressed tight against your reddened ass.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the shop were your heavy breathing and the faint drip of his cum leaking out of you onto the floor.
Toji stayed buried inside you, leaning over your back and kissing the back of your neck possessively.
“Still think I’m being too possessive?” he murmured against your skin, voice dark and satisfied.
You could only whimper in response, too overwhelmed to form words. Your body was trembling, pressed against the counter, pussy still fluttering weakly around his thick cock. Every small shift made you feel the mess he’d left inside you — warm, sticky, and so full it was leaking down your thighs.
Toji let out a low, rumbling sound of approval. He stayed deep for a long moment, grinding slow and lazy, pushing his cum even deeper as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any of it escaping. His large hand smoothed over the reddened skin of your ass where he’d spanked you, almost soothing now, before giving one last firm squeeze.
“Answer me,” he said quietly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“…No,” you breathed, voice hoarse and shaky. “I don’t.”
He hummed, clearly pleased. He finally pulled out slowly, watching with dark eyes as a thick trail of his cum dripped from your abused hole onto the floor. The sight made him groan softly.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty sight,” he muttered. He used two fingers to push some of the leaking cum back inside you, then straightened your skirt with surprising care.
Toji helped you stand on shaky legs, turning you to face him. He cupped your jaw with one hand, thumb brushing your flushed cheek as he studied your expression — eyes glassy, lips swollen, hair messy.
“You’re going to feel me for the rest of the day,” he said, voice low. “Every step. Every time you move. I want you thinking about who fucked you over this counter.”
He leaned in and kissed you — slower this time, but still deep and possessive. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a brief second.
“Clean yourself up a little,” he told you, pressing one last kiss to your temple. “We’ve still got half a day left.”
Toji stepped back, tucking himself away and adjusting his apron like nothing had happened, though the dark, satisfied glint in his eyes remained.
You stood there on unsteady legs, heart still racing, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his cum slowly leaking down your inner thighs.
And somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain.
a/n: aren't the old hags kinda iconic? lmk what you think and if you'd be interested in a part two! likes and reblogs appreciated!!
Synopsis. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.
You knew of Geto Suguru before he was the Fire Lord responsible for tearing apart the nations, you knew of Geto Suguru before his name was soaked in rage and dragged through battle: the banished prince with a sad smile. You knew of Geto Suguru because…you were his first love. And his only.
And now you’re arranged to marry him. But it’s not a ceremony of love; you want revenge—and Geto carnally needs you.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!Waterbender!reader, Firebender!Geto, Avatar: The Last Airbender AU, Fire Nation prince!Geto, past, best friends once, school shenanigans, fortune tellers, PLOT letters, hurt and comfort, poIitical schemes, Naoya gets what he deserves, Fire Lord!Geto, water generaI!reader, sIight enemies-to-Iovers, best friends-to-Iovers, getting together, arranged marriages, poIitical marriages, peace, wedding nights, oraI (fem rec.), pússydrúnk Geto, spítting, p sIapping, fíngering, Geto’s LONG tongue, lNNAPROPRlATE USE OF BENDING POWERS, impact pIay, sIight knifepIay(?), just sorta holding it to his throat, dilemmas, tension, he’s DESPERATE, matíng presses, manhandIing, confessions, REALLY gone Geto, p talking, cIit pinching, teasing, sIight praise and degrad, powers going out of control, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, HAPPY ENDING, vioIence and bIood, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 16.0k
A/N. AAAAAAAAAND look where those Zuko scenes get us smh- based on my Fire Lord!Geto headcanon here <3
“There is someone in your heart.”
For the first time since entering Lady Tsukumo’s quarters; you’re alert. The room is oblong and alluring—it wore its candles around the perimeter like jewellery, and swathed itself in a scarf of smoke. The saturated smell of jasmine clung to the air, and you have to shake your head just to focus on the woman before you.
Here, on Mount Inferno, there isn’t much to look forward to.
The Fortune Teller’s hut drew you in like a mistress, and told you things just as rousing.
Orange candles leak. Prayer beads rattle. Dissolute shadows dance to an inaudible tune, then creep closer towards you in search of touch. She closes her eyes and whispers to her spirits—around you, the thick smoke screen writhes like a snake. It coils like an ouroboros.
Almost wrapping around your ankles- keeping you in one place.
As a smile spreads across her handsome face. “You love him, do you not?”
You feel splashed with cold water.
“I…”
“Or perhaps that’s too soon…” She trails off and looks deeply into your palm once more, humming to herself. “Yes, far too soon…”
“I don’t understand.” And you’re sure the hint of crossness seeps its way into your tone- if not, then your expression. This was your third and final year at Mount Inferno, and your friends had finally convinced you to pay a visit to the famous fortune teller—you’d put it off long enough, tomorrow you’d be graduating.
Tomorrow, you’d be leaving this mountain - and everyone you met atop it.
A long-extinct volcano, though life still bubbled at its peak.
Columns of paper. Red headbands. The sound and trundle of mastery in pursuit. The best of the best; from all nations far and wide, every tribe, every village, students are summoned to the Fire Nation to study at the ancient Mount Inferno. For three years until adulthood. The school was scattered across the Inferno volcano range, deep amongst curdling springs and prickly growth, the pride of the Fire Nation, with its courtyard situated on the very highest peak. It was a truce between nations- and more than that, an intermingling of the future’s most famed. Some students have gained reputations for their powers before even starting here, and it had been somewhat jarring to see all these big, big names come to real life before you.
There was the Waterbending child prodigy that turned water into ambrosia - Ieri Shoko. There was the heir to the Earthbending Zenin family, nobles recently handpicked as ambassadors for the Fire Nation royals, pompous yet powerful (you and Shoko dunked him into one of the cold springs on your first day). Even more, there was Masamichi Yaga, the renowned Earthbending master, as your teacher.
And most of all, there was Geto Suguru: prince of the Fire Nation.
Or at least, he was in blood.
Though in name…it was murmured and known across every tribe that there was bad blood between the Fire Lord and the prince. He was the sole heir. He was their hope. He was their future- and yet, the first cracks in the picture-perfect royal family were shown when Geto had been sent to Mount Inferno.
Normally, imperial members were honed to become the deadliest of weapons in the confines of their palaces. Private tutors, techniques, and rigorous training hours you couldn’t even imagine.
No one knew the exact reason, but the message was clear enough.
You yourself had gotten your invitation (more like summons) to Mount Inferno the day after.
Your parents had yelped in joy and told the village elders; the first student in a hundred years to be called from the most revered of the Fire Nation from your little tribe, they celebrated for seven days and nights.
And on Mount Inferno is where you met Geto Suguru.
In your first year. Walking along Mount Inferno; head held high and his air untouchable even in punishment. Students - from first-years to third-years - looked but didn’t speak. Hair down to his shoulders, tied. Robes lined with golden. Equally as golden shoes stepped down the gravelly pathway in a painfully trained staccato, and they were just about to pass you like the rest of them before—
A droplet of water leapt out and splashed Prince Geto’s golden shoes.
You and Shoko had just dunked Naoya’s head into the cold springs anew- thrice for talking garbage about women in the first place, once more for each time he refused to apologize.
You wouldn’t kill the idiot, of course- you’d just teach him a lesson. At fifteen he should know better.
And this was about the twenty-third time and your arm had grown tired from holding down the stupid aristocrat—but you weren’t going to give up on making him eat his words any time soon, alright? Especially not now. Especially not after all he’d said. It didn’t matter if you had to miss orientation and stay here until Yaga had to drag you away- you’d only go kicking and screaming.
And perhaps ‘accidentally’ throwing a first at the damn Zenin brat who-
“Whaddaya staring at?” So, needless to say, you weren’t the happiest of benders when you caught stopping and staring at you less than a foot away.
The spring was on one side of the path leading to the courtyard, and any student walking could easily have avoided it altogether - most did. Most flickered their eyes to the commotion and flickered them away even faster, either not wishing to get involved or not wishing to help Naoya of all people. You see, he’d already made an impression.
One that’d left you slightly more than just cranky- “You wanna be next or what?” You glowered at the long-haired boy. You wouldn’t be expelled just for this- you and Shoko doubted anyone would speak on behalf of the Zenin tyrant anyways. Besides, this was before your first lesson, and if you two weren’t recognized as students yet—then there was technically no expulsion to be done, right?
But to your surprise, Shoko reached across Naoya’s bent-over body to elbow you. “Oi- shut your mouth if you wanna keep it.”
Narrowing your eyes suspiciously at her, “Why?” You’d just met the girl today, but you had an inkling you’d be good friends.
“Don’t you know who that is-”
“Should I?”
She looked at you with widened, disbelieving brown eyes. And it seemed as though she was about to continue-
But before that, the boy casually cocked his head to the side. His deep, charcoal-black hair framed his aristocratic face in a way that looked like a picture. “You’re both Waterbenders, correct?”
You and Shoko shared a look. “Yes…?” She answered. Both Waterbenders; though from different tribes - Shoko was of more nomadic origins, the village of water healers. Whilst yours was a quieter, more diminutive tribe of fishermen and marine waterbenders—you grew up with honed steel and the scent of blood. If you cut yourself, then the strongest healer was several villages away.
The elite-ling before you surely grew up with padded cushions and perfume to make your eyes roll. That irritation weighed down your brows, “What’s it to you?”
His eyes flitted between the two of you, before ultimately resting on you. And to your surprise, he smiled- smiled.
Long and feline.
Ear to gauged ear.
That was the first time Geto Suguru ever smiled at you. Had you known that at some point in your future, those smiles would grow so rare and ravishing, then you would have counted your blessings more scrupulously.
But back then, you’d merely blinked.
And he’d been feeling a tendril of black hair between his fingers, scrutinizing, before he threw it over his shoulder. “Oh, nothing.” He began to walk off without even a single glance backward, “Seeing as you two are Waterbenders, I was just hoping you two didn’t know that my friend Naoya here has a certain…aversion for sharks. That’s all.”
You and Shoko looked at each other once more.
And it would have sounded like yet another goad- it would have. But you and Shoko looked at each other with a whole new understanding—huh…is that so? And whilst she held Naoya down, you reached your dominant hand out and concentrated on the spring water with all your might. The ripples of it. The drowning texture. Power coursed through you, aqueous, and in the absence of its shape- you bent the water into the shape of a gaping shark underneath.
And made it dart straight for Naoya dunked underneath.
Bubbles erupted furiously on the surface of the water as he screamed and thrashed- yet you and Shoko only held him down harder. Held him down until the dagger-like teeth of the ‘shark’ were but mere centimeters from his face—
Then - and only then - do you pull him out by his close-cropped brown hair.
The pinkish face of the Zenin heir gasped for air, and through blubbers, through tears, through swears, he somehow managed out. “I-I’m sorry—!” He clenched his eyes shut, “Fuck- I’m sorry, I won’t say women should walk three steps behind…”
Your fingers dug into his collar even tighter.
“I mean-” He quickly rectified, pathetically shaking both the water and the thought out of his head. Like this, you couldn’t help but snort at him. “I won’t say…such things ever again-” His beady eyes slid to the side and narrowed at you, “Just- please- let me go—”
“Sure.” You eyed him just as wickedly, “If you admit it now that women and other folk can be just as powerful benders as men?” In support, the water gurgled and whirled into a conspicuously-shaped jaw. A shark.
Naoya sputtered, “Y-yes—yes. Women and- o-others can be just as powerful benders as men.” Thrashing even harder, “Please let me go—!”
“Sure thing.” You glanced at Shoko. And at the same time, you both unhanded Naoya’s twisted-up arms and let him fall face-first into the spring with a deafening splash! Cheekily, the water shaped at your whim into the open maw of a shark just as he plummeted. Hungry.
And it was all Naoya could do to let out a high-pitched squeal as he fell into the sharp-toothed, watery abyss. He crash-landed into the spring once more and scrambled to his feet, pushing past other students as he scurried in the opposite direction.
You and Shoko hooted at him the entire way down, only stopping once you lifted your head and caught—
Just a glimpse of amethyst eyes.
Before he turned back around, long hair swaying from side-to-side as he made his way up those steep stone steps. The number of students still making their way up were diminishing, and the first bell was likely to ring soon- but you stood there frozen in your red and black Mount Inferno robes, a blue gem fastened to your belt. Looking after a boy with a red gem attached to his own. “Shoko…who was that?”
“You seriously didn’t know?” She picked her satchel up from where it’d been discarded by some shrubbery on the pathway, and looked at you closely. “That’s the crown prince, Geto Suguru.”
The myth. The prodigy. The disgrace.
“The Geto Suguru?” You asked.
She nodded seriously.
How odd it was that a boy that elicited such a reaction would be the only one to save you two seats for the courtyard orientation. How odd it was that he’d whisper little facts to you about the lost Airbender at your first lesson.
How odd it was that Geto Suguru, the punished fire prince, became your best friend.
He was attached to you by the hip, practically.
He was part of you enough.
Goading you into training long nights at the dojos, throwing spirals of water and fire shooting off cliffsides and seeing who could send them the farthest, helping you discover new springs on Mount Inferno (then promptly pushing you into them), whispering schemes to dunk Naoya or another one of his misogynistic reverse-harem again. For teachers, there was a higher chance of finding you both as a unit - and a trio with Shoko - than finding either one separated.
Which also meant that punishments for breaking one of the Fire Nation’s 80,000 rules was also handed out as a collective.
You win some, you lose some.
Though he’d been off at some meeting or the other with bending master Yaga when Shoko - your other best friend - convinced you to make a dash for it- just a last hurrah. Down the volcano to fortune teller Tsukumo, in and out, before anyone ever notices that you broke curfew. After graduation tomorrow you might never see her again—this was your last chance.
Though she was a Waterbender, Lady Tsukumo was known to be nomadic.
And with Shoko’s urgency buzzing in your ears, and the never-ending uncertainty of what life held after graduation nagging at you- you made the descent.
Which is where you found yourself being heartily laughed at by the blond-haired bender, her head thrown back and her candles flickering - it made it seem as though even the shadows were having a guffaw at your expense.
“Don’t understand?” She asks, what seems like much later. She wipes away a mirthful tear at the corner of her eyes and looks at you in bewilderment, “Don’t understand—? Oh, of course, you don’t understand- tied for first place in scores with the prince, and yet you don’t understand, hm?”
You gape, “How did you-”
“A teller always knows.” The older woman winks, and pulls your palm closer for her to examine. “Tell me now, my dear, what is your type?”
“My- my type—” Sputtering.
“Yes, yes-” Lady Tsukumo tuts impatiently, “Your type. And be specific.”
And even though there was no one here but the two of you- you couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance around the room. Feeling your heartbeat start to pick up, “I suppose…someone kind. Someone smart- emotionally smart. Someone that loves me for m-”
“Booooooring—!” She announces.
And your jaw just- drops.
What the…
Gaze wide as a mad glint creeps into her eyes. Shoko, you shall never be forgiven. “E-excuse me-”
“You’re excused.” Lady Tsukumo - you wondered whether she had given the title to herself - waves a hand breezily your way. She continues looking down at your upward-facing palm, “Now here’s what I actually see about your type-”
You gulp.
“Tall.”
Alright.
“A powerful bender.”
Well, alright.
“Handsome- no, gorgeous.” She looks most excited at that one—“Long hair. Pretty face. The stuff you write songs about.”
Well, certainly alright…
She turns your palm from side-to-side to capture every angle- then presses two fingers to your wrist and listens to your pulse. Lady Tsukumo’s eyes close. “Hmmm.” She pauses and listens, “And it’s exactly who you have in mind.”
You gasp-
And her eyes sparkle with excitement before—
“I-I didn’t have anyone in mind-”
“Liiiiiiies~!” The blonde-haired woman proudly announces. Before digging her polished nails even deeper into your pulse and seemingly reaping every sweet secret held inside. “I sense tension. I sense confessions long held. I sense agony-” Catching the look in your eyes, “Oh- but the good kind.”
She beams and you narrow your eyes suspiciously at her.
“The good kind- I promise…at least for me to read in here about.” And before you can call her out on it, she presses even harder. “I sense…a wedding here in the Fire Nation.”
And beside yourself, you can feel something at the pit of your stomach lurch. “A w-wedding—?”
She nods, “A royal wedding.” Having successfully put that little hiccup aside, she only grows more excited now. “With public announcements and a national holiday…you’ll wear the traditional Fire Nation garments-” To which you frown, as you’ve always loved the thought of getting married in your own traditional clothes. “-and the feast will be merry and plentiful. And at the end of the night…”
Suddenly, she stops.
A little furrow forms between her brows.
In silence, Lady Tsukumo runs her hand up and down your forearm as though playing the harp. Counting your pulse. Reading your veins. Almost to your elbow. Pressing harder at your wrist to confirm—
“There will be death.”
The words pierce right through you- you feel faint.
But Lady Tsukumo’s grip on your hand is unyielding. She’s almost breaking through skin with her nails - “Death is lonely here.” By now, her hazel eyes are shot wide open and staring right through you - unseeing - as she continues almost in a daze—“A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand. Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.”
Those all-seeing eyes of her close.
“In blood as we are borne, two worlds reunite under life and death.”
The candles hush.
Darkness.
By the time that Lady Tsukumo has waved them back alight again, you still have your hand reached out and your palm facing upwards. Though the tips of your fingers have started reaching inwards - they remind you of the fire lilies that Geto snuck you out to watch blossom your first year. Shoko had been caught cheating by Yaga and made to do revisions whilst you two explored. A valley of them between the furthest peaks of your school: they were the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. And so you’d returned.
Your second year. And then your third year.
Though they were ephemeral - just a few weeks of blossoming per year before they crumpled.
And with it, something else crumples, too.
Tsukumo Yuki softly intertwines your fingers with hers and squeezes. Then she says in a soft voice, “I’ll tell you a little secret, young Waterbender. Just as you reshape the water, you have the power to shape your own destiny.”
The night is different when you’re finally stepping out.
Crisp and cool; almost to a sharp fault. The door to the fortune teller closes behind you with a click! and you’re standing upon her step- looking up at the moon.
“I know you’re there, Suguru.”
And from the darkness emerges a playful groan. “How did I pass stealth lessons again?”
You chuckle, “I just know you too well.”
“I’ll say. Shoko told me you came down here so I thought I’d come to escort you.”
Geto Suguru - eighteen just like you - steps into view underneath Lady Tsukumo’s hanging lanterns; admired so ardently by flying termites that flutter around the light in infatuation until their wings fall off mid-flight, and they drop to the floor—crawling around in bafflement as they try to reach their radiant lover once more before they inevitably die.
Under that same light, you’re taking him in.
It’s been quite some time since you’d splattered spring water over the young prince’s golden shoes- and Geto Suguru has grown considerably since then.
His hair had gotten longer. His smile just a little more feline. The princeling you’d had to look down at to speak had hit a sudden growth spurt once he’d reached about halfway through your first year. First to become lanky. And then his body had given him about two more surges in his second year just for the hell of it, just to leave him amongst the tallest in the grade.
And it didn’t matter how tall you yourself were- Geto was at least a head taller and it honestly got on your nerves a little that you now had to raise your head to speak with him.
Your best friend.
Your best friend…right?
Third year was when he started filling his frame out more.
It honestly wasn’t something you thought about until you just-so-happened to notice - and once you did, you just couldn’t seem to stop.
Because Firebender Geto had always been painstaking about keeping his training schedule rigid, keeping his techniques exceptional, never dropping below a cool #1 in Firebending ranks. Never one to fall behind, that was what influenced you to claw up to #1 yourself in Waterbending- and though Shoko wasn’t the type to take things as seriously as the two of you - at least not outwardly - you could tell that she put a certain amount of ‘effortless’ effort into maintaining #2 in Waterbending. But of course, #1 in all healing lessons.
He was one of the earliest to master Firebending.
And it was exactly those extra hours of training and duels that left you a honed warrior- and Geto…someone that was hard to keep your eyes off of.
All that height? He was now padding on extra muscle n’ heft to make his frame much more intimidating - like those royal warriors you’d see mentioned in history classes. Corded shoulders. Defined pecs. Chiselled abs.
Little by little; training sessions with your best friend had begun getting a lot harder when he’d take his helmet off to let his long, river-like black hair cascade down his shoulders. Sticking to his forehead. Pushed out of his thoroughly pretty face. Glistening with sweat—Geto would pant as he tears through the sizzling layers of his armor, bearing more and more skin than you think you could bear-
You once did.
Before everything got so…strange. Whenever Geto would take off his armor - complaining about it being too hot to duel - you’d merely used to throw your helmet at him and do the same.
But now when he was calling your name, breath ragged, staring at you with half-lidded exhausted eyes…
The one thing that ran through your mind was how his waist was so grabbable-
Before you know it, the real-life Geto Suguru is leaning down and giving your forehead a good flick. And the thing about him is that he doesn’t hold back, either, so you’re left paying for the absence of your own caution.
Your best friend.
Your best friend.
Your best friend.
Whining as you rub over that spot, “I’m killing you.” The two of you begin heading the treacherous trek up the volcano. “I’m going to finally report you to Yaga for stealing his prized kale cookies- I swear.”
“Sure thing.” He smiles that feline smile, “Just make sure to add that you ate about half of them, too.”
“On second thought, why steal and tell?”
Geto laughs into the night at that. And you can’t help but turn your head and watch him—so free and unabashed.
It makes something fuss at the back of your mind- “Hey, Suguru…”
He turns to you, profile illuminated by the pale moonlight. “Yeah?”
“What’d Yaga have to say to you?” You ask—it wasn’t like a teacher to set a meeting so late, and especially right before graduation. Attempting at a joke- “He isn’t failing you or anything, right? It’s nothing serious?”
“As much as I’d love to join you as a super senior—” You snort. You both knew you were making the speech as class first tomorrow. “-no. It wasn’t anything serious.”
Looking to him for more information.
To which Geto merely looks at you and smiles- he had this little quirk where sometimes his eyes went completely shut as he smiled. And you honestly hadn’t thought of it too much until now. Now…you think it’s the type of thing where one could write a song about it-
“We just talked about the security measures for when my father arrives.” Geto ultimately sighs, amethyst eyes straight ahead. “Royal visitor and all those tedious things…”
Your lips part, “Ah…” Right. The Fire Lord himself.
“Honestly, I didn’t even think he’d come.” And though he sounds casual about it- you can tell there’s real weight behind Geto’s words. After a few more steps, he turns the questioning onto you. “What about you? What made you decide to go to the fortune teller after all this time?”
You shrug, “Change of pace? Shoko wanted me to do so- ah.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”
And that—that makes you feel so many things at once. So many.
The excitement. The elation. The heart-stopping moment. The crush. They’re all slamming into you at once- and it’s a complete miracle that you’re able to get out…“Honestly…not much. Guess m’not that predictable, huh?”
Geto speaks slowly, “Is that so…”
“What about you?” Turning curiously to him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going down there?”
He breaths out a silver cloud into the cool night air, “I have once. My first day here.”
And that makes your brows raise- you’ve never known…“What’d she say?” Your heart races, and your palms feel sweaty when they clench—
“Honestly?” Geto leans in close- reeeeeally close. He brings his face towards yours - and there’s a brief moment where his gaze drops down to your lips—you think he’s going to do it. You think he’s going to close the distance. You think he’s going to kiss you. You think he’s going to prove every premonition right and wrong and so right at the same time. “Not much.” Before he’s pulling back his index and flicking your forehead once more.
You summon a nearby spring to fashion into an oversized fan, and chase him with it all the way up to the dorms.
He laughs the entire way.
Tomorrow was graduation, but every tomorrow after would still be the same.
Would it not?
.
.
.
You wake with a gasp.
You wake to the drums of war.
The morning awakening. The rhythmic beating of a scorned heart. It punctured and pierced and honed itself against the coarse air of the Fire Nation; the crescendo of your traditional drums, followed by the chanting of your nation’s most valiant benders, and the undercurrent of melee when scimitars met jaw blades. You’d gotten used to the sickening crunch of bones being fitted back into place, though the cries of your people still left your stomach churning.
Like prey in wait, the world of battle never really slept.
Just last week, the Earthbenders had made the journey from their encampment to yours—and by now the gashing of boulders, the screeching of metal, and the accretion of unique war cries had become accompaniments to such mornings, too.
Rousing.
Dust erupted from the savanna plains and a thin layer of it rained down on you from the gaps in your tent. You’re blinking awake at the flood of pus-yellow light, and raising your head off the table- you’d fallen asleep poring over your war plans yet again.
You can’t remember the last time you slept in a bed - a bed, let alone a comfortable one. But such things were frivolities at a time like this. Everything could be far, far worse.
You’re leafing through the yellowed parchments on muscle memory, embossed with the insignia of every Earth and Water tribe in the land. There were many such papers; each one differing in only slight revisions, though with the same contents and proposition addressed to the Fire Lord. Your once-friend.
It’s been nine years since you graduated at the top of Mount Inferno—Geto had been standing right beside you that day as Earthbending master Yaga announced your class as he’d announced you all as the new generation of bending masters. The future. The hope. And you exchanged a look with Shoko and Geto that day, tenderness churning within your chest when it sank in that this would be the last time you’d be standing in this courtyard like this. The last time that Mount Inferno would truly ever be yours.
And so you nodded- you’d planned for this moment for a long time.
As Yaga finished his speech, you kept your hands behind your back and flicked them- just a flick. Enough to summon droplets of clear, glistening water from every surrounding spring.
They rose high above your heads and half-crystallized in ice—like diamond shards. Shoko hovered her hand and manipulated the water particles in the air to spread them out across the entire courtyard, and Geto lazily waved his hand to increase the temperature. To make the icicles suddenly pop! and rain down - refracting with the daylight to create a brilliant rainbow above you all.
As the audience awed and gasped then, Geto had stepped - just a single step - closer to you. His shoulders brushed your own, and you remember the tip of his littlest finger grazing yours—barely there.
Before Geto had caught the eye of his father - tunneling through him with his vicious stare - and the heir had stepped away.
Your hands had chased his touch, his warmth then.
But you should’ve known- that should’ve been your first sign.
No matter how many times you promised to write and keep in touch with your two best friends; only one of them responded. Letter after letter to the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace - and all of them went unanswered.
Though, even years later, you were writing.
You hadn’t lost hope- at least, not until your village elder one day asked whether you weren’t invited to the crowning. Whose crowning? Oh, Prince Geto’s crowning as the Prince Regent, of course. His father had become bedridden, and he was overseeing the nation without being formally crowned yet.
That was how you found out.
Seven days after Geto’s induction as the regent, the Fire Nation attacked.
It was on a group of peaceful air nomads that were already far and few between. Then came the villages. Then came the towns. Ultimately—you remember hearing whispers that Lord Geto was actually the one that poisoned his father in hopes of seizing the crown. The Fire Nation had no King for now, though it did have a monster.
In just a few years, life as you knew it was set aflame.
You can’t remember what exactly you’d said in your last letter to him, but you were sure it was some mangled mess of disbelief and threats. You wondered where that old Geto you knew went, you promised you’d make him pay for what he’s done…be it whether you were arrested and charged for treason or not. You never were.
You went through a mountain of papers trying to write something coherent.
And when you finally had it arranged to be sent, you joined the rebels.
Over the course of years, you trained and toughened. You fought your opponents hard and you fought yourself even harder—you knew that Geto Suguru had eyes everywhere across the land. You calloused, you bled, you fell. There was no time to grow gradually used to the ugliness of battle, you were thrust straight into it and forced to grow wiser than your ages. You knew he must know you’ve joined the building uprisings against him.
And you couldn’t disappoint your old classmate, could you?
They granted ascending titles for every one thousand enemy attacks one diverted. At the age of twenty-seven, you were general of the Waterbending faction.
And the battle was becoming decisive.
On one side of the tent was a picture of him from your schooling days - eyes crossed out, and pins and daggers stabbed into him whenever you and your war generals mulled over plans. And at your feet lay the half-melted remains of ice blades you’d been training with.
Sometimes, when the nights were really quiet (as quiet as a battle camp could be), you fashioned sharp streams of water and sent them jetting straight at that picture. Just like you and Geto used to in competition, on a cliffside so long ago.
Only now, there was no laughter.
As you’re straightening up, a rough canvas blanket falls off your shoulders—Shoko must have entered some time during the night and put this over you. Of course she would.
Always a healer, no matter what.
You’re holding the fabric close to you for a few seconds before letting go. A general had to carry only what was needed.
Freshening yourself up with the shallow basin of sun-warmed water at the corner of your tent, you’re donning your sea-blue cloak and walking past the tent flaps. Midday Sun licks at your skin as you step outside.
The Sun in the Fire Nation always seemed hotter than the one in your land, but right now it was the only thing you could feel. You turn your face up to it in greeting and breathe in deeply.
Your brief moment of respite is suddenly shattered by a call of your name - urgent. The sound of an approaching horse. Alarmed; your eyes shoot open and your hand immediately falls to the bone knife fastened to your waist, dropping only once you recognize the approaching men as one of your own—his blue cloak flutters in the wind.
As he nears, you register his wide eyes and his pallid face.
A cold sweat seemed to coat his features despite it being scorching out. And once he’s close enough, other warriors stop his horse by the reins- and he all but collapses onto the ground. Crawling on all fours to you—before you’re waving away your soldiers and helping the man stand up yourself.
“Ijichi.” You support him up and firmly tap the side of his sallow cheeks, “Ijichi! Get yourself together, soldier. What happened?”
As a non-bender, Ijichi was still an integral part of your battle. He was your messenger - and your most trusted one, at that. He was the one that’d successfully delivered your last letter to Geto as your friend, and your first letter to him as Lord: the proposition. You knew Geto wouldn’t lay a hand on Ijichi, no matter what the contents of your letters were.
He knew how just dear your friends were to you- he knew very well.
“He…he…” Ijichi’s pale lips tremble.
Your pulse races. There was only ever one he that could deign such a reaction- “What happened—” Signalling one of the nearby warriors to hand a flask of water over, you wet his mouth with it. Lightly shaking him. “Speak, soldier-”
“H-he has an answer, general.” Ijichi sputters. Hand weakly gesturing towards his satchel-
Your soldiers tear open that brown hide satchel and present you with the sole thing inside—a smooth, strong parchment tied up in a red velvet ribbon. Though it didn’t have the signature embosses and the gaudy golden envelopes that most communication with the palace did, there was no doubt that it was of imperial origins. The only difference was in the way it seemed to be from the hand of the Regent himself, rather than any old elder…
This was straight from Geto.
And you have to be careful not to display the slight quiver at your fingertips as you open it-
‘My dearest best friend,
It has been accepted.
Yours, Suguru.’
Though the handwriting itself was far different from what you remembered his to be. But people change.
“What is it, general?” One of the warriors pipes up from the gathering crowd. The Earthbending masters and other commanders have joined, too.
And you’re looking straight ahead - at no one and everyone in particular - as you just give a single…simple…nod.
Lord Geto Suguru has accepted your marriage proposal.
.
.
.
Riiiiiip—!
You’re clenching your jaw and fisting your hands together as a Fire Nation attendant tears out wax strips smeared down your legs, yanking out the hair underneath. She stares in wonderment for a brief moment, before starting to do the same on your hands.
A scream strangles in your throat.
The journey from the camp to the palace hadn’t been too extensive, and you’d arrived to the roar of trumpets and the wariness of the Fire Nation public. The palace announcement itself had been shaky- but they had to open the doors to you.
They had to.
You were their future Queen, after all.
Just perhaps not what they expected.
Scrubbing and plucking you raw, honey glazes, and milk baths. They’d taken special offense to that little callous between your thumb and index from holding a sword too much.
They’d attempted to scrub it away and failed.
Who would’ve thought that years of battle meant that other things took priority over a little waxing and powdering? Apparently the poor, pampered asses of ‘war’ generals in the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace couldn’t stand any evidence of the raging battles that took place outside their numerous gilded walls—perhaps guilt or inconvenience? Possibly the latter, you doubted they had a conscience. And thus, you hadn’t made it two steps inside the sprawling palace before you were whisked away by a cloud of attendants. To be made into an imitation of something you weren’t.
You’d seen the way they looked at you- as if you dirtied the palace with your mere presence. To your surprise, it seems a majority of the council had long since been taken over by the Zenin elders.
It seems that Zenin Naoya had made a name for himself as the head advisor.
That fool couldn’t advise a cow to moo.
You hadn’t even gotten to see Geto yet - and here you were already being prepared for your wedding.
If it were up to you, you’d forgo all this levity and carry out the plan here and now. You’d barge past all these plumes of dresses and golden antiques, and—
“Now for your perfuming, Your High- ah, I suppose not yet.” The orange-haired girl smiles to herself as she fogs you with some expensive perfume.
You crinkle your nose and expect the worst - some throat-clogging, saturated scent that makes you gag…but what meets you is the soft undercurrent of the ocean, of jasmine, of memories long-gone and hidden. And your eyes are shooting open in surprise.
“It’s good, hm?” She nods excitedly at your reaction. “His Highness had it concocted specially for today.”
“I didn’t take Geto to be the perfumeering type.”
She laughs softly to herself and you look up in curiosity. “Oh- sorry.” Bowing ever-so-slightly—you’re hurrying to tell her that she didn’t need to. “It’s just that…my lady, you refer to His Highness so intimately yet it seems you have not the faintest idea. Lord Geto is the one that has chosen everything for this wedding; from the perfumes to the flowers, to your dress. Oh! Though such strict…presentation aspects were demands from the council.”
Eyes darting to meet her warm honey-brown ones in surprise.
“He had it all thought out, my lady.” She finishes.
“That…” Your lips part. “I don’t understand.” You turn around and let the silk overcoat glide against your skin like a second one, “How does a monster have time to plan a wedding?”
She gasps and skirts her eyes around—as though merely speaking in here could land her in the dungeons. And you wouldn’t be surprised if it did.
The girl looks at you with pleading eyes- about to say something, but you’re shaking your head reassuringly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to answer.”
With a relieved sigh, she goes back to moisturizing and massaging your aching limbs.
“But tell me this-” You continue, as the silence prolongs. “-how did so many of the Zenin family find posts in the palace? Last I knew, it was just Naoya’s father that had a position here.”
“As head advisor, yes.” She nods. “The Zenin advisors have only increased in number and notoriety. Before we even knew it, they went from just one in the palace- to now having the entire family in power.”
You hesitate, “Regent Geto’s doing?”
“Not at all.” To your surprise, she shakes her head. “It started when His Highness Geto Suguru was banished as a prince- that was when the family first came to power. And in the three years of his schooling, they’d only increased. When the young prince returned, there was no extracting them. They controlled it all…or so the old palace keepers whisper.”
Your brows furrow, “Is that so…”
Looking around nervously once more—surely rehashing the palace history wasn’t a crime? “And they also whisper that…” She leans in close, half-covering her mouth conspiratorially. “There’s something strange about Advisor Naobito being the only one to serve His Majesty the King with his breakfasts- but His Highness doesn’t seem to care.”
Shivers down your spine.
“I-I see.”
You do.
You really do.
Nearby, the in-chamber water fountain starts to bubble. The girl gasps and looks between you and it-
That’s what makes you snap out of it - shaking your head and looking up at her with a slight smile. “My apologies. What’s your name?”
She hesitates, likely wondering whether you were going to report her for divulging so much information. But whatever she sees in your face seems to convince her that you’re not like them- you’re not like the Zenins. And she answers, “Kugisaki. Nobara Kugisaki.”
Nobara keeps you company until another flurry of attendants arrive - and soon enough, you find yourself dolled-up in countless layers of red and white silk. Golden patches and embroidery on your sleeves, nimbly designed into visions of mountaintops and fire lilies, the emblem of the Geto family on your back—it bore heavy. You were surprised - you expected more of his name upon you. Your face is painted. You’re perfumed once more. Roses were woven into your hair, and your feet are slipped into golden sandals.
It hurt that your own tribe’s name wasn’t anywhere on your outfit.
When you tried reaching for the sea-blue cloak you loved - not as lavish as the Fire Nation’s robes, but your most prized possession - the attendants had shook their heads.
Still, you tucked it into the wide circumference of your sleeves nonetheless.
As those double doors opened and you were led outside, some of your guards stationed outside - in case of any funny business - froze. Shoko smiled sadly. Ijichi’s jaw dropped—
And you weren’t sure how to feel about everyone reacting to you like so.
The procession was long and mind-numbing with luxury; it gets to a point before opulence becomes vile. And in the Fire Nation, most weddings were status symbols rather than actual ceremonies of love. For the Prince Regent - the future King as far as anyone knew - most of all.
You could hear it outside.
The clothes. The music. The swell of a public that cascaded never-ending into the widespread palace courtyard and watched, and the passing of appetizers leafed with gold. Red-hot ribbons and lanterns, the oversized faces of dragons with drunk ministers atop them—throwing flowers and bits of golden paper - cymbals clashed and dancers of all sorts and music made their way into the palace pavilion. Drummers banged. Children squealed at firecrackers. In contrast, you walked quietly shouldered by your warriors and being led down the pathway to your husband.
The place where the binding ceremony would take place was the pavilion overlooking the Fire Nation public. Where the entrance of the palace was.
At the very top of a hundred stone steps, where the audience convened below.
The elders had drawn a circle of ash for you to step into.
And so you do.
Perfectly placed on display.
A hush falls over the crowd. Caught between merriment at the war ending and morbid curiosity and fear, they were chanting in dialects that you didn’t understand - though the stay word or two you’d learned through intelligence cracking made you recognize they were singing about love, about unison.
Today there would be none.
There would be blood.
Lady Tsukumo’s prediction still lingered at the back of your mind. Though you kept your eyes downward and awaited your fate.
Your fate being the tall, red-clad shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision. He stands next to you.
Your breath catches as it hits you that this was Geto- and he seemed even more broad and intimidating than you remembered. The only things you can make out: long, dark hair and arms crossed behind his back. His uniform seemed to glint with something- gold? Though you don’t look up to confirm, you’re training your eyes down at the stone steps—and feeling the man straighten up beside you.
“It’s a lot of people, isn’t it?”
You almost jolt-
Had you been any less disciplined, even an ounce, you would have darted your head upwards and gaped at him in disbelief. Here was Geto Suguru…speaking to you as if nothing ever happened.
How could he do that? How could he speak like that? What gave him the right—? The very same that broke your heart over and over- no, this was a very different Geto from the one you knew on the mountaintop. How could he stand there like this - wearing the same body, the same face, the same voice but slightly deeper, and smile at you like that-
And pretend like everything was okay?
You speak in an even tone, “It is.”
“I haven’t seen this many people since the graduation.”
Your chest hurts. “I have.” And for the first time, you’re looking at him squarely. “On the battlefields.”
And the first thought that should hit you was how much he’s changed—how his face now frames his face and cascades down his back like ink, his jaw has set into something sharper, his features have become more refined. Melted away the baby fat to reveal the handsome man within. Years of training and war have left him more chiselled than before- and even through the billowing robes of his traditional attire, you can make out the corded muscle underneath.
He’s both familiar and not. Familiar in those eyes like polished crystals peering down at you, not in the severity that hid beneath them. Geto wore the traditional red and black sokutai; not just any red, but the red of blood after its long since been spilled, of battlefields. Piqued shoulder pads. High collar. Fine gold tracing.
Even a section of his hair was bunched-up into a knot atop his head whilst the rest of it flowers, held up with a gold pin. And on his waist was a golden belt studded with…a singular blue sapphire.
He looked so much happier in your memories.
The first thought that actually - actually - hits you is that he’s grown into everything he feared he’d become.
A fiery breeze ruffles Geto’s long hair and makes him look as though a dream. Or a nightmare.
Despite what you’ve said, his gaze remains unwavering. “I see, general.”
Suddenly, the ash around you erupts in flames, like a phoenix—and the marriage rites commence.
.
.
.
You meant it when you said that Fire Nation weddings were known more for their status than their emotion.
Because the actual rites were stiff and sped-through; as though they were hurrying through the sole sentimental part of the wedding in haste to proclaim the two of you married. Once the circle of ash had been set alight, the Royal Fire Sage had appeared behind you two and boomed out invitations to the spirits and ancestors.
And then you’d been made to recite your vows to one another for the entire courtyard to hear. To make it known - to someone else if not the two of you - that you would have to cherish one another, to understand one another, and to…love one another.
Through good times and bad.
And to bring an heir.
As you repeated after him, you wondered just how much of it could have applied before.
And as the two of you finished, you were handed a porcelain sake bowl that looked dipped in gold. As though a wabi-sabi artwork, but every bit of it had been shattered. You both took three sips each of the rich, translucent liquid—promising unity.
Your hands tightened on the bowl.
And then you placed your offerings of evergreen branches as newlyweds, down on the sacred circle of ash, then clapped twice and bowed.
To the public.
The roaring cheers were deafening.
You closed your eyes tightly against the noise.
There was a reception afterwards, of course, and it was just as disgustingly lavish as you thought it would be; though as the married couple, there was rarely any time for you to eat or drink. You couldn’t indulge when there were ministers and master benders and government officials begging for your attention—most of all, you couldn’t kill when you had a plan.
But oh- did you think of bypassing that plan and going in for the strike when Zenin Naoya had come sneering to your raised table. Wishing the newlyweds a long and prosperous life together.
He spat it out like venom.
Even more so when a new attendant had wished ‘the future King and Queen’ a long and happy life together.
Other big, big names came and went. However Geto’s father wasn’t in a befitting state to make a public appearance, and you’d watched Geto’s reaction closely as this was whispered to him by one of the advisors.
He was as still as a stone statue.
But you could forgive the too-tight embraces from families attempting to woo their way into the good graces of the future monarchy, and the ministers that sloshed their sake on you. You could forgive the generals that eyed you suspiciously, and the young aristocrats that tugged on their guardians’ robes and asked which nation you were from…and whether that was allowed. You could forgive it all. You weren’t wearing your nation’s colors—and you had to smile as your soldiers bowed to you as per your royal title.
You never let them bow to you when you were their general. Just general.
You could forgive it all, because your plan started only after the wedding reception.
When the curtains were drawn, and alcohol suffused into the air. When you were beckoned by the team of attendants that readied you for the wedding, and escorted away into the privacy of the royal baths.
You wondered if it was just you who felt like some in the reception were leering like they already knew…
Readied, once more.
By the time you’re donning a sheer red robe, and guided to Geto’s sprawling princely chambers, he’s already there sitting at the edge of the bed. Back turned to you.
His armor removed and attire half-off - draping over one broad shoulder. And the other….was a pale body underneath the luminous moonlight filtering in—rippled with muscles and slightly freckled. Though they looked faded, as if he’d gained them once a long time ago and had rarely been out in the Sun since.
You could guess they were from Mount Inferno.
Tonight was to be your consummation, and you knew they’d be checking for evidence in the morning.
You walk up to the Fire Lord.
Soundless steps.
And yet, he still turns. His long, jet-black hair falls off of one shoulder and tumbles down his back like a waterfall—it’s glossy and reaches down past his waist. There’s a slight dampness to it, and you wonder whether he’d been scrubbed and perfumed down to the bone, too. You don’t know why but you mourn the way his hair covers most of his toned back.
Quickly, however, you snap yourself out of such nonsense.
You gulp and take a step closer. “I have arrived as the attendants have directed me-”
“Must we be so formal with one another?” He speaks. Geto’s tone is deeper than it was on the mountain, with a polished edge to it that spoke of years of lessons—rigorous. More mature. You think back to your first impression of him- no, it wasn’t just padded cushions and perfume after all, huh? “We’re married now, y’know.”
You’re looking up and realize there’s a smile playing at his lips.
“We are.” And your voice, too, sounds so much more mature than back then. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not strangers-”
“But we’re not.”
“We are.”
There’s a frosty silence that stretches between you two, and you’re starting to think it might last until sunrise- but then Geto puts his face in his hands and sighs. Heavy and unbroken. “At least…at least just for tonight…” Voice something so small—something that reminds you of the Geto from nine years ago. “Could we not be strangers?”
You don’t answer.
But as he stares at you - piercing through your very being - your hands move as if hypnotized to the sash of your robe. And his eyes grow murky- they grow dark—following you like a predator follows its prey.
Though which one of you was the predator, it’s hard to say.
With a single flick of your fingers, your robe is dropping off of you.
And if you thought his gaze was smoldering before, they’re practically glazed and blackened now. In almost a trance, he keeps his eyes on you and reaches his hand outwards- and murmurs in a low timbre. “Come to me.”
“Is that an order as King?”
“We both know I have no power as King.”
A plea.
You step. Silently.
And soon enough, you’re standing in front of Geto Suguru - in-between his manspread thighs. He gazed upon you, and you gaze upon him. It’s now that you’re noticing his outer layers had been stripped through, and the only thing that he’s donning now were baggy white trousers doing little to hide the muscles underneath, and a hitoe: it was a dark, draped robe that almost looked like a yukata. Loose and flowy.
Shifting aside to reveal a puffy pink nipple on his left side.
Then before you know it- you’re both pushing him back onto the bed by his shoulders—and crashing your lips into his.
And you’re not sure what you’re expecting- fuck, you’re not sure how long you’ve agonized over this very moment, but Geto’s kissing you and you’re kissing him. And it’s everything you’ve imagined in all your most innocent girlhood dreams.
He tastes of jasmine and crisp summer air - the curtains behind you flutter with a breath of cool air, and you’re gasping. It’s then that Geto takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
Clasping the back of your head, he angles it to one side and lets his delicious tongue inside. Exploring your mouth for a few seconds before fishing it back out n’ then leaning even closer to suck on your tongue. The moment he tastes you, he groans. “Please…”
And you think - for a brief, stupid moment - that you’ve wanted nothing more.
But Geto’s canines nip at your lower lip, and reality’s hitting you all at once. All at once.
You’re breaking the kiss with a sickeningly sweet pop! and pushing him down by his shoulders. Geto’s scorching hot pants fan your face, his long hair tickles your neck. Perhaps too afraid to look him in the eyes- to see what expression he has on now, you’re shuffling down his body. Pawing between his legs.
But just before your knees can hit the floor—an arm reaches out and stops you.
Grabbing ahold of your own, he’s pulling you up.
In split-seconds, you’re finding yourself back on the bed - this time with the positions flipped. You have your body rested against a mattress that feels like a thousand clouds. You have your cunt throbbing wildly as Geto beckons you to stay and kneels down on the bedside.
Like he’s praying.
Though the only plea he whispers is between your naked legs.
Getting swallowed up almost instantly in the cute, slobbering kiss he’s pressing against your plump, puckered lips. Just so ready for him.
Geto’s dark brows contort as your legs jerk open a bit further and your cunt’s sloshin’ out.
Lascivious ribbons of creamy slick empty out of you n’ end up dripping down his chin - it glistens underneath the cool, blueish moonlight - and you’re watching as he sticks the very tip of his tongue out to taste. You see those clouded amethyst eyes start to grow even murkier, heavy and half-lidded. He looks up at you in half-shock as the syrupy taste of your cunt enters his mouth, and the infamous Fire Lord can’t help but moan—
“Honey, I want to taste you for eternity.”
“You’re not s…oh.” Eyes clenching shut. Breath catching in your chest. Whatever you were about to say- Geto’s lappin’ the words right out of you.
With the slightest inch of his tongue squeezes in- hot and pulsing between your folds. The ridged texture of his tastebuds glue to your most sensitive parts—polishing off every ounce of the gloss that coated between your pussylips. And once he’s downed it all like the sweetest of mead, Geto purses his pink lips and spits.
A stream of glittering saliva that hits you.
You flinch-
“Too cold?” Geto’s voice just seems so loud in your eardrums. Low and so much more ruined than you remember it- it makes you blink up at him. And whatever he’s seeing in your expression, it seems to answer his question.
Because then he’s running a thumb down the wad of spit plastered to your cunt. Tap-tap-tapping.
And before you know it, you’re feeling the frigid, exposed parts of your pussy turn into something sizzling.
Fuck.
Bubblin’ over and fizzing.
He was using his powers to…your brows shoot up to your hairline.
You’re clamoring onto your elbows. You’re quaking your thighs shut- and actually getting them shoved even further apart—by both of Geto’s bulky shoulders lodging himself even further between them. His sticky, hot breaths were practically basking your cunt - and soon enough Geto’s nose-deep between them and slobberin’. “Sh-shit, now that’s unfair…”
Prolonged, open-mouthed kisses. From the tender edges of your pussylips to fishing his tongue between them- swirling inside your wet hole.
Now that he’d heated up the spittle touching your cunt, it was Geto’s time to smear it all over using his mouth and pretty face. “Mmm, not too bad, huh?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You scoff. Raking your fingers through his raven locks.
“Ahead of myself? No, no…” Geto murmurs- and he’s purposefully doing it so the vibrations shot up your spine and made you arch into him. The crown of his tastebuds sloshed between your folds and gave you such luxurious licks prodding inwards. Flattened top. Teasing edge of his tongue. Then Geto reaches his right hand up and swats the glistening top of your cunt. Soon enough, you’re feeling the slippery layers of his saliva grow even hotter. “You need to know your place, my little Waterbender.”
“That’s general to you.” You’re tugging on a fistful of his hair. Still damp; though by now it was less with water, and more with sweat.
“General…” Geto repeats. Another swat- controlling and ebbing the heat in a way that made fogginess coil around your brain. “And do you realize that you’re in enemy territory, general? My best friend?”
“I- am aware.” Gritting out—more so because you couldn’t handle the slight whimper that threatens to crackle on the edge of your tone.
You’re dragging an even less merciful handful of his hair in retaliation- dragging and dragging until his lips almost pop off of your cunt. He’s grabbing onto you with a single hand groped underneath your ass, and such a desperate husky noise.
To his credit, you just didn’t expect Geto to moan.
But then again, he didn’t expect you to put a blade to his throat, either.
Geto’s purple eyes snap wide open at the ice-cold feeling- and the air prickles with the power of bending. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you’d used the dampness of his lengthy hair - the water particles, the ravenous sweat - and melded it into a steel-hard dagger that pricked at his pale throat. Just a single gulp of his Adam’s apple leaves Geto Suguru nicked.
And crimson beads down to his robe—matching. Wedding colors.
‘A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.’
It would take just a single flick- just a single flick of your wrist to end the Fire Prince’s life right here and right now. To end this all. But you take your time to admire him…at least before the life drains out of his eyes.
That second of eye contact lasts longer than lifetimes- longer than an eternity together. Just the two of you in the royal suite. Geto’s mouth on your cunt, and your dagger at his neck—and to your surprise, he doesn’t look like he’d be anywhere else.
In fact- to your offense, he flickers his eyes down to the callous that was peaking out in the web between your dominant thumb and your index. And slowly - almost snake-like - Geto’s inching his face closer and pressing a soft kiss—right as you were holding the dagger.
Your breath hitches- it’s silent. It’s oh-so-silent.
And Geto’s darting his eyes up at the sound of it, cautiously pulling away. But not to any sort of mortal safety, of course, because when has Geto Suguru ever followed your expectations?
He’s instead maneuvering his face- and unsure where he was going, you’re following his actions with that deadly blade of yours. But the Fire Lord doesn’t run. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t change. He merely tips his head ever-so-slightly at an angle, then sidles his hot face between your clammy thighs to…to make out with your cunt.
Make out.
Not just lapping and lickin’ like he’d been doing before.
Your mouth falls open, “Oh.”
Not just prodding away between your pussylips with the tip of his tongue.
“O-oh, fuck.”
He’s properly gaping his mouth open and massaging the forefront of your cunt with his muscle. Again and again. The thick, flattened plane of him rests on top of your pussylips n’ drags up and down, back and forth, teasing you mindless before swabbin’ his wet inches inside.
Geto’s practically glued to you- the tiptop of his tongue rovering for every sweet spot inside. Long, drunken thrusts. And with every single one, you’re reaching your arched hips upwards. “Fuck- fuck—”
The silvery tip of your dagger digs against his skin, and the prince flutters his eyes open all feline-like.
Lightning shoots through your body as you take in the utterly dazed sight of him. “You realize that I can- hah, that I can just kill you now, right?”
“I’m aware.” Languidly, he’s blinking his eyes open properly. Your pussy just tasted so good lacquering his tongue like this; in such a warm…wet layer of your sap. And the only thing the fearsome Firebender can do right now is tip his head back and let those juices drain to the back of his throat. “And it’s only makin’ me harder.”
“This?” Pressing the blade even harder. “This.”
In response he can only nod.
Nod and nod and nudge your pulsing clit with his nose.
Your jaw’s just dropping. Was he making fun of you…?
“Fuck- I-I think I get it now.” You’re blubbering, hand tremoring. “You really are a monster-”
“I am.” Though you can’t decipher his tone of voice. Merely feeling the way Geto presses a few more noisy kisses on your cunt, before he’s raising his hand and-
You shut your eyes.
You’re hearing the solid smack! on those swollen, needy lips before you feel it. Hot. And just as soon as the searing sting makes its way through your thrumming vessels, Geto’s attached his mouth to your cunt once more and is tunneling his tongue crazily into your pretty hole. Just so wet n’ needy for him that you’re sucking him up after every hackhammerin’ thrust. Squeezes him closer.
He moans- fucking moans as he cuts himself off from breathing. He doesn’t care if he suffocates - as long as it’s between those tremblin’ legs of yours.
Though it’d be a damn cold day in hell before you ever let him beat you to your mission objective.
So you’re pulling back your deadly dagger, and you’re catching the slight surprise flickering in Geto’s eyes at the act. Quickly replaced by something more knowing, something…far darker and unreadable when that blade finds itself positioned back on his beautiful throat.
The vertical line of it stands out starkly. A thin line of crimson draws itself on the edge.
You’re somehow clenching through gritted teeth, “I…need to kill you—for the good of this world.”
He keeps perfect, ruinous eye-contact with you as he leans his pretty face forwards. He keeps eye-contact with you as he raises his hand and spanks your pussy once more.
“So do it.”
Hot sparks explode behind your eyes.
And the imprint of all five of Suguru’s doughy fingertips seem to emblazon themselves on your cunt- you’re realizing then that he’s using his powers again. He’s leaving a mark on your pussy…for however long he may be alive. For however long you may let him stay alive.
And he’s eating you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have.
The sweetest of sultry desserts latched onto his mouth - Geto ties your legs tighter around his head. Then he’s mouthing aside your soaked pussylips to stick his tongue in and out, in and out, in and out. He’s pinpointing every hidden spot inside you with his dexterous tongue- quirking it juuuuust right to one side and hittin’ your g-spot ruthlessly.
“I am going to—” Though the words feel weak, even on your lips. “I-I am going to-”
“So fucking do it.” He’s a man on death row. He’s a man starved- your dagger moves even further upwards and Geto’s sharp white canines make an appearance as he hisses. “Do it…”
“I-”
“I dare you.”
And for all the world, you might have possessed the steadiest arm in all of the land. But the way he’s makin’ your eyes roll to the back of your head - just the winding, zig-zagging slashes of his tongue squeeeeezing into your pussy - would be enough to make anyone tremble. Even during their life’s mission. “I…sh-shit.” Bucking your traitorous hips upwards - so hard that it leaves a smear of glittering slick from his upper lip n’ to the tip of his nose.
Slash after slash.
Probe after probe.
He’s just so fatal with his tastebuds - sizzling against your velvety inner walls. And you wondered whether that was just you or his powers…
Before another hot smack! resounds against the sprawling corners of the royal suite. And Geto’s taking your star-struck moment to swirl the ends of two fingers inside, scissorin’ and bullying all their slender inches.
They were the hands of the strongest Firebender of today.
And they were smearing apart your snug channel. Squelching. Smushing themselves inside- the sheer length of them…oh, it felt like they were about to go on for daaaaays. And you’re rutting up into his vicious thrusts with a whimper, “P-please…”
“Please, do it if you must.” He breathes out scalding pants. Nostrils flared. Skin red. You’re left utterly shocked at his admission- you look up into his eyes and they’re crystal clear. “If it shall bring you peace- do it.”
Gaping, “Wh-what do you mean me…”
But he’s only honing his slick-glossed, slithering digits. And he’s such a quick learner, too, he’s locating your g-spot with only a few more thorough thrusts—his favorite target. That pulsing area writhes underneath his touch- and you know where he is exactly when the heat spreads from Geto’s fingertips.
Leaving you ruined both inside and out.
Leaving him grinning around the gummy nub of your click. Sucking.
“If that is to be your wedding gift-” The mound of his voicebox pushes deeper against your blade, a hairsbreadth away from something irreversible. “-then take it-”
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Tearing up.
“If that is what you’ve been dreaming of all this time-” He continues, voice growing more and more guttural by the second. Geto’s practically gulping your pussy into him, clinging onto him. Quivering. “If revenge is the only thing th-that’s let me cross your mind…if only for the briefest second, then I shall thank it.”
Streaming down your cheeks now. “Su—fuck.” You could feel the twisting and turning at the pit of your stomach as you grew ever-closer.
He continues. “If it is what my wife desires…then so be it.” Was he fucking drunk? Was he talking out of…of your pussy? There was a slurring edge to Geto’s words, toppling over one another. And those beautiful amethyst eyes of his struggle to remain open - blinking lazily - as he laps n’ keeps lapping at your leaking pussy. Those juices smearing all over his jaw. “Kill me.”
Then down to the column of his throat.
Then collecting on your trembling blade.
Geto’s boring straight into your eyes as he utters. “But until then, m’gonna keep making you cum over and over again.” Quirking the curvaceous tips of his fingers to ram straight into your g-spot- he makes you shatter. “For as long as I have left to live, m’gonna make you the happiest woman on Earth.”
“That’s just unfair-” You’re damn-near sobbing. One of your hands claws through his night-black hair, and the other uses the flattened edge of the dagger to let you see his face better. “That’s just really, really unfair…”
“I was never a fair man.”
Then you’re being fucked through your waves of bliss like never before- those looooong, arching cresendos of dopamine through your body. Those white-hot stars. The edges of your vision blurring.
And the only thing your muddled mind can think to do is plant your feet flat on the mattress and arch- and press your drippin’ cunt closer to his face. As Geto Suguru suckles on your clit, he traps it between his teeth and draaags it out far enough that you yelp.
All the while, his fingers were slammin’ straight into your g-spot. Over and over.
Rubbing the softened tips of it to that pulsing spot—he’s elongating your orgasm like never before. He’s making you feel those carnal sensations in eeeeevery single ridge and crevice inside your cunt, three of his fingers stuffing you full by now. “Never was an understanding man.” He gasps through French kisses on your clit - every time he rolled his tongue over it, you were mewling. “Never was a kind man- hngh. Never was a good man.”
Smack!
It resounds even louder than the last few, the feeling of his heated-up fingers spanking your cunt.
And you swear you’re sent straight over the edge for a second time—
“I can only promise to be the damn best husband for as long as I have.”
It’s with this notion in mind that you’re dragged through your intense peaks, and once you’re finally coming back to - it’s to the sound of Geto pulling away from your spent pussy with a loud slurp! He follows the stray wires of sap that still connect him to you- pressing a final few kisses before finally wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Then looking you deep in your eyes as he then licks off the glowy sheen that covered his skin.
This was what did it for you.
You’re raising your stone-cold blade high—high, higher, and even higher then. Until it was well above his head, and then—
Slashing it down to decimate his outer robe.
Even Geto himself looks shocked at this- before you’re grabbing ahold of him by the shoulders and dragging him up onto the bed. It dips with a groan at the weight of you both, its ancient springs equally as shocked, and you don’t care if you’re causing a commotion when you pull him by a lock of his hair till your back rests against a vast metal headrest. Against your skin, you could feel the twists and twirls of some intricate wooden carving - but the only thing you could focus on right now was him.
Him and the aching, throbbing erection he was sporting in his loose trousers.
The fabric paper-thin. The outline of his cock obvious.
He was so looooong and deliciously curved to the right, hard enough that you could spot at least one thick vein prodding down the side of him. Precum had seeped from the top of his blushin’ red crown and darkened a patch in his trousers; it sticks slightly to his skin as Geto rests a hand on the hemline and teases taking it off.
“Do I need to bend a dagger for that, too?” You quirk a brow.
“Hah…” Geto huffs out a laugh, “No need to exert yourself, my little Waterbender- or more like…my wife.”
Ah, his wife.
His wife.
His wife.
And then your…husband does the honor of stripping down his only remaining piece of clothing.
And the first thing you notice is that he’s even bigger than what your imagination had concocted. Red-hot and throbbing.
A slight spattering of black curls dust his base, and partway up his navel. It glistens with beads of precum that just refused to stop streaming from the tip of Geto’s cock - hard. So painfully hard.
Fucking painful.
Even contact with the frigid air seemed to make him quiver, n’ his cock was pulsing so hard that you could physically count it from where you were seated. Eyes wide and gaping - you don’t feel the slightest bit abashed about staring, and Geto doesn’t seem the slightest bit self-conscious. He’s got a gorgeous cock, and he knows it.
It feels so hot as he places the ruddied tip straight on top of your raw cunt and presses down. Not even easing inside- just smushing your folds down so that you’re getting a good feel of him.
And you do, of course.
You’re grabbing Geto by each one of his luscious deltoids and digging your nails into the firm muscle. Crashing your lips into his. Hissing, “I-inside.”
Making his velvety, sap-covered tip squeeze between your pussylips. He’s entering you with a buck and a cracked groan at the back of his throat—“I already am, general.” Just a single inch inside and he sounds breathy. Just a single inch inside and his head drops forwards- a curtain of inky black hair falling around you like a veil to the world.
You’re reaching upwards and taking out his signature golden hair pin. Even more of it.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this…vulnerable.
And then the Fire Lord’s throwing your legs over his shoulders and bending you flexibly down in half, hands finding purchase upon either side of your waist n’ slamming his hips into you like a madman. “And I’m have a d-damn good time fucking my wife.”
Geto’s reeling his lower half back- all the way until his ruby-red tip is purposefully stretching your hole out. Feeling you - just feeling you.
Before giving you a thorough thrust from the crown of his cockhead and down to his thick base. So thick. Your mouth’s falling open into a similar ‘oh’ that your pussy’s being expanded into.
Then repeating.
And repeating.
“Fuck, she’s so wet. Is that because you’re the- hah, land’s greatest Waterbending master-”
“Shut up.”
“And if I refuse?” There’s that hint of mischief in his voice you recognized from your past. “And if I claim that this pussy actually lov- liked this mouth of mine not too, mmm, long ago?” Through a clenched grin and furrowed brows, he somehow manages out. “So what do you have to say about that, general?”
Your maw keeps dropping open the more and more of his jagged thrusts he’s placing. “W-weren’t you the one who said he’d be happy to- even hngh—die by my blade?”
“I was. I am.” He replies - and it’s so earnest that you don’t have anything more to say to him. Suddenly, Geto’s giving you a right slam! of his cocktip- colliding against what feels like the very back of your throat. “And I stand by- ngh, every word I said.”
“Th-then…”
Before you’re able to sputter out anything more, he’s reaching his right hand down. Snaking his long fingers between those plump pussylips of yours - Geto plaps! the flattened edge of his thumb down on top of your clit. Then starts rolling n’ rolling over it in time with his solid thrusts. And just as every passing second made you keen out more…it also made you more honest.
And he could tell.
Geto’s feline smile presses on top of your forehead: a chaste kiss. One he’s repeating on your temples, your nose, either side of your cheeks, your chin, and finally your lips.
Humming against them, “But the reason I said that was because I’m in love with you.” And he says it so easily. Shock courses through your body- or perhaps that was just the feeling of him slammin’ into your g-spot. You get the distinct feeling that Geto had known where it’d be all this time - already having mapped you out with his roving fingers - and that he’d been holding out until this exact moment. “But why aren’t you completing your mission, yet?”
Your lips tremble- “I…”
“Let me make it clearer for you.” Gravelling tone pitching just a bit—just as he punishes out another slam! of his fingertips against your stuffed pussy. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?” He tosses his head with an attractive smile, “Is it because it feels too good? Be honest.”
Well…You’re scoffing, “You wish-”
He grins an irresistible grin before scorching his fingertips against your swollen cunt once more. Those Firebending powers of his certainly weren’t at full capacity - they weren’t even being used at a fraction of it.
And yet, it still made itself known in how even the tiniest bit of contact made heat sprint through every atom, every axiom of your being.
And you can only clench your hand around Geto’s damp hair, feeling the glide of those silken locks through your fingers. It makes the man hoverin’ above you on the bed wince—letting out a throaty noise of ecstasy as you’re handling him so meanly. He fucking loved it.
He’s dreamt of this for too fucking long.
Noticing this, you’re wrenching him back by his hair and spitting straight into his pretty mouth. Those pouty lips of his enclose immediately ‘round the sweet glob of spit you’re letting out - and he’s trying to kiss you almost immediately. “Mmmm…” Geto’s long lashes bat shut. At the very split-second that it had landed, you swore you could’ve felt his bashin’ cockhead swell even bigger. “Thank you, my wife.”
Eyes opening once more- you see there’s such a carnal glint in them that you can’t explain.
“But don’t think that’s gonna make me forget.” And suddenly, you’re understanding just why his name was whispered far and wide. Why not a soul in his palace seem to speak a word against him. For fear, or…Yet another swat. “Why haven’t you killed me yet, my little Waterbender?”
It was honestly feeling more like an interrogation at this point.
Mockingly, Geto cocks his head to the side and bears you his throat.
Perfectly unharmed and unscarred. The thin line where your blade lay earlier was practically invisible.
“C’mon…let me make this even clearer for you.” He goads, “Here’s your target. Here’s your enemy—kill me, my wife. Let’s see if you can, general.” Something almost maniacal in his grin, Geto’s dashing his dark hair backwards like a mane and pressing his forehead to yours. “Aren’t you the greatest Waterbender alive? You’re here because you’re bound by duty, are you not? Then why don’t you?”
A few harder thrusts.
Eyes wide. Tone crazed. “Why don’t you—?”
Why don’t you? Any other soul would stop themselves out of fear- perhaps out of proximity.
Good thing that you weren’t just any old soul.
And so you’re summoning that blade once more in a way that feels almost subconscious- your mind wasn’t really concentrated on the weapon. How could it be? When Geto’s plummeting cockhead was only growing speedier and speedier by the second - his round, reddened tip swirling about your insides and pinpointing every spot with his white precum. They were just the sloppiest strikes.
Again and again.
Upturning even the smallest slick orifices and bruising his circumference into your spongiest depths. Your cervix stung with the imprint of him.
Absolutely tortuous despite your training.
Which might be why the handle of your blade’s already half-melted; water dripping down your hand by the time you’re raising it to Geto’s pretty throat once more. “I…I am bound by my duty.” You breathe.
The enemy Lord’s grin widens as he registers your words. So you were finally taking the bait…
He looks down at the misshapen, gnarled excuse of a blade pushed to his throat—and notices the droplets of water cascading down your arm. And without a single warning, he’s craning his neck down - avoiding the sharp edge of the weapon - to liiiiiiick up those ice-cold droplets on your skin. It feels almost teasing looking at his tongue like this, already knowing what it’s done to you once.
Murmuring almost awe-struck, “I am the general of the rebellion’s Waterbending faction and I am here to kill you.”
“Yes—” He whispers. Pitch raising. Octaves higher. “Yes.” There’s a thundering squelch! between your legs as he then grips onto your clit with torrid fingers.
Your blade raises- ready to strike. “Geto Suguru, you are hereby to be assassinated at the hands of the new age. An act of revolution.”
“Yes—”
“An act of peace.”
“Fuck- yes.” Brows knitting once you clench.
“An act of…love.” Impatiently, Geto then turns to smack! the glossy top of your clit. To pinch it. And he does it with heat-coated fingers that make you see stars.
He stares at you, and you can’t look away. “So do it.” Almost gruffing the words out at you. And for how long he’s been saying these words to you, it’s just now hitting you at full force that this was a challenge. And how cocksure he was…“So kill me if you can bear to do it.”
For your nation, for others, you have to do this—you have to. Your hand trembles on the handle of the squat dagger. It feels small and almost…childish in your hands. But the longer the pause stretches between you two, the more it melts - until your weapon is nothing in your hands at all.
It was futile and you always knew it was. He did, too.
This was never going to happen.
Especially not when he was fucking you so incredibly—
And you’re merely wrapping both around the back of Geto’s head and tugging him to you.
You’re crashing our lips into his with a moan. “I can’t-” You gasp. You gawk. You’re barely breathing every time his mouth’s parting from yours and slamming back down with an even harder kiss. “I can’t bring myself to kill you, Suguru.”
Pain. It sounds like defeat. But to Geto Suguru, he’s heard no sweeter music. “And why is that…?” The infamous Fire Lord tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“I-I don’t-”
Smack! Right on top of your clit. Honesty, remember?
“That’s not an answer.”
Heat coils between your legs - almost feeling like flames licking at your skin. He was making it clear that you were putty in his hands. “Please-”
Smack! Harder.
“It’s b-because I…”
“Speak up, general.” Smack! Smack! Smack! Harder. Three consecutive slaps of his fingertips- before you could even attempt to formulate an answer. Though Geto wasn’t completely merciless…at least not with you - he soothes over the sting with a few glissades of his fingertips. Pressing down on your knobbly clit then and combatting the pain with pleasure. Pinching. “Your soldier can’t hear you.”
And then you don’t know what exactly is doing it for you: perhaps the flared ridge of his tip, oh-so-perfectly grazing over your g-spot—or perhaps the way those half-shuttered eyes of his were staring down at you.
Practically boring down.
Seeking your soul.
There’s such an intensity about him- and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the way the air around you two heats up a few degrees. Palpable to a degree. Your skin perspires, and a bead of sweat runs down Geto’s own temple.
Tensely balancing at the edge of his jawline as he whispers. “Tell me, my heart…”
“I-it’s because I love you, too.” The confession comes rushing out of you before you even realize it. But once it’s out in the sweltering open air - there’s nothing more to do.
Nothing more to see. Nothing more beautiful than Geto Suguru’s pinched brows as you somehow - somehow…as though refusing to let himself believe such an idea - surprise him. His eyes glisten, his lips part. And that toned chest of his shudders just a lil’ as his breath hitches.
For a long time, Geto doesn’t let out anything but a few rasping grunts as he fucks you—fully and thoroughly—
And then he’s collapsing on top of you n’ puncturing out a few more sloppy strokes. Body hunched into yours. Mouth open and pressed on the column of your throat.
Heat bends around Geto’s fingertips - thrumming with energy, nearly vibrating - when he captures your clit. Harder.
Geto feels you clenching around him - throbbing furiously - and echoes out a prolonged grooooan as your third high of the night overcomes you. “Sh-shiiiiit—” It’s not one that you were expecting, and the sudden flashes of white behind your vision leave you startled. Your head drops back, and you’re mewling out Geto’s name twofold. “S-Suguru-”
“You haven’t called me that in years.” A drunken grin spreads across his face. One hard thrust that bangs into your g-spot. “Say it again-”
“Suguru-”
And one more spank. Sparks of pleasure more than you could register.
“Suguru—”
Your yelping n’ yowling were like music to his ears; the sweet sound of victory. And every time his pace quickened, your pupils are left dazed and confused—blinking up at him blearily.
Babbling.
“What’s thaaaat, my little Waterbender?” Geto’s pert lips twitch with amusement on either side, and he’s soon leaning his head down to hear you. To tease you by mimicking not hearing you—“You’ve got something to say to your lover? Heh- or maybe it’s to your husband?”
“It’s something to the- hngh, pain in my ass.” You snipe out.
His free hand reaches down n’ gropes a good handful of your ass. “We haven’t gotten there yet.”
And as your mouth drops open as his sheer audacity- Geto wastes no time returning your favor from earlier by spittin’ straight into your maw. Letting you swallow it before he’s thumbing over your clit again, “As I was- fuck! saying…”
“Mhmmm?”
And instead of just telling him - you suppose that showing him would be just as effective. And you’re running your hands all over the curves and muscles of his sturdy body; along the plush area of his pecs, and then down wherever you could reach his abs—pathetically reaching to grab onto Geto’s dripping, ruby-red cock. “I need you inside.”
His fingertips flare with his- slamming down on your clit once more. You just felt so raw and perfectly overstimulated. “I already am…?” Geto raises a brow.
“No—” You shake your head. And as for the bending powers…two could play that game. Without a single warning, you’re bending the moisture at the tips of your digits and dropping their temperature starkly - making the powerful Firebending master shiver at the play with heat. “I need you to cum inside me, Suguru.”
And you always did know he was weak for first names, didn’t you?
Because in no time, Geto’s then hiding his blushing face into the crook of your neck- and gluing his ravenous hips to yours. With a few twitches deep inside, his scorching-hot tip bubbles over—finally.
And then he’s pouring out bucketload after bucketload of hot, gooey cum.
Body bowing. Toes curling. His long hair was knotted and dampened with perspiration, sticking to your own clammy body as he’s tangling the two ever-closer.
Geto isn’t even completely done with the crescendo of his high before he’s already attempting to fuck every ounce of it inside you.
Sticky. It’s a satiny mess between your legs, and Geto’s ecstasy was just the tip of the iceberg. “Fuck.” The true sloppiness presented itself when it was time for him to fuck each and every wad into you - directing the sheer volume of it with his fat red cock. A thorough prod of his shaft leaves a few droplets being swerved straight into your womb. “O-oh, fuuuuuck-”
“Shit.” Just as he utters his sensual sounds - all of the stray parchments in the room catch on fire and peter themselves out. Instant. He’s bending the combustion in the air around you two. “Oh, gods…”
Without a single word.
Without a single intention.
You’re still suffering from the sultry aftershocks of your own high- and yet you have to clear your head. You have to be the rational one. “Suguru-”
SLAM!
Before you can sputter out anything more, he’s reaching an arm out to grip onto the headboard and leaving you speechless.
Just the sound of you saying his name- just the sound of you saying his name had his heavy balls clenching once more. And suddenly you’re feeling an even greater warmth seep into your stomach—Geto’s cumming once more. And the veiny length of his shaft was just accumulating it all at the back of your pussy with squelch after squelch!
Broken, mangled remains of your name escaping his throat.
You can’t help but stare up at the corded muscles of his biceps- arms enough to…kill for. Almost as soon as you’re thinking the thought, you watch as Firebending seeps out of his limbs n’ melts through the metal headboard. Geto’s catching the look on your face with a priggish smile.
“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
He didn’t have to. Because he’s pressing on your stomach after the final zap of his high has completed - burnished red cockhead finally calming down - and he’s watching the cum drip out of you. All of him—that he’s stuffed lovingly inside your pussy.
And Geto doesn’t think he’s felt more victorious.
“Suguru..” You start. “Earlier, when you said something about you having no power-”
“I meant it.” He wasn’t lying. He looks deep into your eyes, “As the Prince Regent I am technically the one authority in the palace. Yet it remains a farce…my father still holds one true reign, and the council has decided unanimously that he rules from his deathbed. How competent, yes?”
You ponder, “I see.” Then you ask—“Did you ever read…”
He looks at you so intently, and you shake your head and rephrase the question.
“Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”
“Letters?” Geto’s eyes flash. “You wrote letters?”
“Oh, Suguru…” Such sadness in your tone. It was obvious they’d never even reached him. “Almost every week for the first few years. I stopped when the war commenced…seemingly by your doing.”
Nearby, a loveseat catches fire and immediately puts itself down. Lips trembling, he grits out—“I…I had no idea.” Enraged. “Those fucking elders- I wondered whether you’d just gotten sick of me-”
“What? No, don’t be stupid-”
He chuckles, “Glad to know you still think so highly of me.” Nuzzling your cheek.
“I do.” You stubbornly hold back your tears, “And I need to know…how in league are you with the Zenins?”
And to your surprise, a smile spreads across his face. “The Zenins?” He rests his forehead against yours and sighs, “Silly Waterbender. The entire reason I was sent to Mount Inferno in the first place was over a fight about the Zenins- and even then, they bartered their son in there to keep an eye on me. And if I was in cahoots with the Zenins to any degree, would I have started the rebellion?”
Your heart skips a beat. “You’re the one that started the rebellion?”
“Yes, from the confines of my lavish prison, unfortunately.” Geto grimaces. “Though I’m glad it got strong enough to this point. It was me who sparked and funded the idea…even misinformed the imperial guard away from where riots took place. But the uprisings, the community, the victory- that was entirely the peoples. While the only thing I could do was sit here and play nice with the Zenins.” Bitterly.
Pulling him deeper to you. Two halves of the same future: you think back to Lady Tsukumo’s prediction. “My big, strong husband. Was poor wittle tea time tough?”
“Oh, it was deplorable.” He jests.
And Geto exhales properly as though the first time in years.
You ache for him.
Just as he aches for you. For your past and for your future. “I’m sorry, my wife.” He tremors after a long stretch of silence. “All this time…I wish I could’ve been a stronger prince.”
You can’t help but punch him softly on his shoulder, “Stupid Suguru. It’s okay. We’re all just grown-up kids pretending we know the way.” Sniffling. You could have a real wedding later, you could make up for time later. “But you better make it up for these nine years we didn’t see the fire lilies, or else…”
“I’d do anything for you.” He breathes. Lips pressing to yours, “I’d let the world burn for you.”
.
.
.
History will remember this day.
As the start of how a bender from the Water Nation would one day become the Queen of the Fire Nation; as the start of a reckoning that started from within the palace itself and spread like a disease into the lands outwards; as the day of revolution.
The Zenin family has long since held the palace captive.
Sitting up on their perfumed, padded cushions and ordering the extinguishment of anyone that wasn’t like them. It was upon their orders that the Fire Nation attacked—and on their orders that the war was prolonged. Nine years of death and destruction.
And that night, after wiping yourself down, you’re sneaking out of the royal suite once Geto’s eyes had closed. Roaming the dark, winding hallways like a predator at night; your eyes were wide and your Waterbending thrummed at your fingertips. Now it had an edge and was begging to meet flesh.
The first chamber that you’d encountered after exiting the marital bedroom was the current King’s chamber - one that Geto had told you had been banned to him since he could remember. He hadn’t seen his father since he’d first gotten here nine years ago. Perhaps because of the decoration and distraction of the wedding, the door had finally been left unlocked and you could peer in. And from the foot of the doorway, you stood watching—as one of the Zenin ministers sped a spoonful of curdling concoction that should’ve been medicine. Perhaps.
But the sweet, simpering smell that drifted from it told you something else.
Fire lilly.
Poisonous when cooked.
Your fingers twitched—and you were just about to send a deadly stream of water spearing through the man. But a sudden tap on your shoulder make you jump-
Whirling around to find Geto.
He smiles at you warmly, and then mouths something in the semi-darkness. It’s hitting you instantly what he means: this one is mine. It’s his revenge to take. Nodding understandingly, you watch as the spark of Firebending starts to curdle around his digits—and you’re scurrying off into the darkness with a kiss pressed to his cheek.
You know exactly where you need to go.
You’d made note of the layout when Nobara had escorted you around.
And she’d given this room a wide berth.
Silent as the shadow that falls, dawn licks at the edge of your figure once you’re walking up to a bed chamber and knocking. Just a light rap. And before whomever was inside can answer, you meld into the shadows behind—just as Zenin Naoya steps out, you’re wielding a dagger of your water and ending him.
A clean cut. Right across the throat.
Because the Zenins, in starting this war, never intended for Geto Suguru to become King. They hoped for him to abdicate such a blood-soaked throne, or at best for an assassination from you…which was why Naoya himself had written you the letter. You did think it was strange that Geto’s handwriting wasn’t even the faintest shadow of what you remembered it to be. They had an inkling that you wouldn’t be giving yourself up to the Fire Nation so easily.
They wanted Zenin Naoya to be King.
The body falls.
A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand. Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.
The Sun is clawing away at a new day.
In blood as we are borne, two worlds reunite under life and death.
sukuna knows women. he knows how to please them. how to make them moan, whine, cry. but knowing how to please a woman doesn’t mean he knows women. aka a woman’s cycle. in simple terms, sukuna has mainly grown up with men, his gramps, his brothers, toji — all he knows is a girl has a period, but he has never bothered to stay with a girl long enough to actually address her period.
well until his fuck buddy, you, open your door for him.
his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you towards his chest, lips locking with yours in moments. “Mmm,” he groans, tongue pushing past your lips, just to feel you press a hand to his chest. your lips break, air filling his lungs in disdain, eyes narrowing at you for pushing him away.
“you didn’t text me, dude,” you say, letting him pull away to drop his backbag on the floor, plastic bag in hand as he kicks his shoes off.
“got outta the gym late. lost track of time,” he walks two steps to the kitchen pulling out two energy drinks, a protein drink, and a couple protein bars. “fuck,” he cups his crotch, palming himself through his low hanging sweats. he opens his shake. “accidentally swiped on that video ya’ sent me from the summer. I watched the whole thing between my sets.” his hand tips back, throat bopping as he chugs the shake, eyes closing as he sees the video play back in his mind, hand still on his bulge.
you’re leaning against the column between your smaller than small living room and kitchen, eyeing the way he’s shamelessly groping himself in front of you, men. you sigh, internally.
“hey,” he suddenly appears in front of you, towering. his musky scent fills your nose as he cups your neck, the other resting on your hip. he slowly lowers himself, tilting your chin up with a thumb as his lips connect with yours again. “haah,” he sighs, kissing your lips like it’s his saving grace, his sweats hang low on his hips as he presses himself against you. “remember that video?” he husks, “the one with ya’ spreading your legs out for the camera—“
you gently press a hand to his chest again, cheeks flushed, but stomach churning uncomfortably. “ryo—“
“wanna see this pussy,” he doesn’t even hesitate, he drops his head to your neck, kissing the exposed skin before dropping to a knee, hands on your hips. “wanna smell how good she is—“
“ryo,” you press a hand to his forehead, face aflame, as you push him back. your heart hammers as he frowns up at you, jaw tight and hands tightening around your waist. “I got my period yesterday.”
….
a silent beat passes.
then.
FUCK!
sukuna is horrible at controlling his face.
you immediately notice his dilated pupils dissipate, and the excitement die behind his eyes. your lips purse, making a my bad king type of face. but sukuna looks absolutely destroyed, his head drops forward, desperately trying to control his eye roll, but you catch it , along with the way he presses his face into your stomach, and groans. loud. uncontrolled.
“sorry…I forgot to text you, and you came all the way here,” you pat his shoulder apologetically, though you’re not super sympathetic since it’s not your fault.
“ya’ have cramps or some shit?” he grumbles against your sleep shirt.
“had crazy cramps this morning, but just like…not in the mood right now,” you cringe while saying it, but sukuna just sighs.
you bite your cheek as you watch him sit back on his heels. his black sweats straining against his thighs, his bulge shameless as it presses up against the material. your eyes flick over him again, wetting your lip as you reach for his hair. hesitant. but eventually…your manicured nails run through the slightly damp, salmon colored hair. you watch in silent awe as his lashes weigh down, and his jaw tightens like he’s holding himself back. your nails scratch his scalp, lightly, but enough to elect a raw groan from the back of his throat.
you bite your lip, eyeing the dark flush crawling up his neck, and dusting his cheeks a light pink. his large palm rests on your outer thigh and the other flexing as it grips his erection. how far will he—
“not cumming in my fucking sweats,” he suddenly barks, getting to his feet. your hand drops as he walks towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head, he kicks the door shut behind him.
your lips purse again, biting your cheek as you hear the shower turn on. men.
that was how sukuna dealt with his fuck buddy being on her period. somehow always finding out last minute that you’re bleeding, and in no mood for action — except for those very rare occasions, well he can’t divulge too much now since you never want him to mention it again — and he’s forced to take care of his problem in your shower. his rough calloused palm — a contrast from your soft smaller ones — jerks his painfully hard throbbing cock to the images of you floating in his mind until he’s finally shooting his thick white load all over your shower wall. haze clearing up as he watches the cum slide down. and then he’ll step out of the bathroom, usually wearing a pair of sweats he’d forgotten here, along with a plain black tee, and crash on the couch as you do your homework. he’ll eye you a bit, but eventually shift his attention to the tv and knockout.
it would be difficult for those five to seven days, especially when you would be slightly more clipped with him, or just plain bitchy and short tempered (like him). but it’d get him all hot and bothered, especially since he can’t act on it.
that was sukuna’s perception of a woman’s cycle. before he never cared, now he cares just a little more because he can’t have sex with you when you’re on your period.
but as smart as sukuna is, it takes a little more brain power for him to realize what this is.
this being, how he’s wound up because he’s trying to get through this studying for an upcoming exam. he’s far from prepared for and the best way for him to study is to be around someone who takes it seriously— you. and yet…
and yet, you won’t stop moving!
at first you were sitting across from him in the library. then you shift to the seat at corner of the table, and then you move to sit directly beside him.
“you need help?” he suddenly cuts. you’re shifting beside him stops, brows pulled in confusion.
“was just uncomfortable, am i disturbing you?”
his brow twitches, but you were completely innocent. your brow pulled up, like he’s the crazy one, and not you, who’s moved around like ten times in the last hour!!
“just a little,” he mutters, putting his headphones back on and turning back to his work. luckily, you seem to have settled down, attention back on your own studies. engrossed in your review sheets and notes, as sukuna reviews for his own exam.
however, what the fratboy did notice was even when shoko stopped bye to chat, and utahime came to whisper some gossip to you between her class, you didn’t move once. his brow quirked briefly when utahime chatted across the table, and instead of getting up and going to the hallway to talk freely, you remain seated, right beside him, and right against him.
what’s going on?
“I swear I told the girl I didn’t even know who she was talking about it—but she didn’t even care. girl! I wasn’t talking to your ex,” utahime rambles in hushed whispers, similar to the whispered conversations at other tables.
your brows furrow in shock, “what the hell?? why the heck is she even confronting you in the middle of class though? that’s so weird.”
“that’s what I’m sayinggg!!!”
sukuna has every reason to snap at you both right now. to tell you two to shut the fuck up or go outside. seriously, it was distracting as fuck. but his mind was short circuiting and stumbling around all because of how fucking close you are to him.
his arms are leaning over the table, biceps bulging from his tshirt, scribbling practice equations and notes. and you’re leaning over in an identical position, but your side is fully pressed against his arm. your zip up hoodie resting around your hips after you’d shrugged it off, and your usual cold skin was searing hot against his. skin to skin. and it’s been like that for the past twenty minutes.
usually when your friends stop by to ramble you have the curiosity to step away so he can study. but not this time— well you did a similar thing a month ago too. sticking to him like glue. brushing your fingers over the veins of his forearm—
“okay, I’ll update you later, but thanks for letting me borrow your airpods!” utahime concludes her rant with finally returning your airpods and running off to her next class. sukuna lets out an air of relief, relaxing beside you.
finally, some peace and quiet in the library.
…shift…
well, it could only last so long.
his brows furrow as he glances over at you, your cheek is now resting on his arm, mindlessly reading your notes like this is normal. is it because he’s finally anxious about an exam after so long, that he’s noticing how touchy you’re being? or maybe you’re not in the mood to do your work and in the mood for something else—
tch, he doesn’t have time to find some room to fuck you in though. it’s the middle of the day and the library is packed. the last thing you’d want is for someone to see you both. however, he can’t even tell if you want any action right now. it just looks like you’re tired…and clingy…?
sukuna exhales, thumb pressing against his jaw in thought, while you shift again, oblivious to his internal turmoil, cheek smushed against his arm…
“you hungry?” he interrupts, desperate for his mind to quiet down.
“not really,” you mutter, focused on your homework.
his lips downturn, pen tapping the desk, “I’m gonna grab another celsius.” he suddenly stands, startling you for a moment, noticing the way your pretty lashes blink in surprise. you’re definitely just focused on school…but last month you were acting the same-ish…if he’s right, then when he comes back…you’ll…
he places a celsius in front of you, eyes flicking over you as he sips his drink. you hum in distracted appreciation, like you can’t even see him sliding back into his seat, legs spread, and arms coming up back to the table to grab his pen. but like glue, you’re sliding yourself right beside him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking a subtle inhale.
what the hell?!? it’s like he can predict you’re every move now?!
it didn’t stop there. the puzzle pieces are starting to come together slowly. especially when you subtly kept a grip on his arm muttering how he can finish studying at your place, without the distraction of the frat—which you rarely pressure him to do a night before an exam. except instead of going straight to the bathroom to shower, you followed him to your couch and sat beside him.
“do you mind if I turn on the tv?” you ask with such an unnerving amount of gentleness, glancing at him with your full undivided attention.
his brow quirks, why’re you looking at him like that? “it’s your place, woman.”
you hum, relaxing back, albeit pressed to his side and your knees tucked up, as he leans over on the coffee table (aka your only desk in your small ass apartment) reviewing more work. but just moments later he’s sliding to the floor for more comfortability—
“why’d you move?” your voice cuts through the quiet apartment.
“huh?”
sukuna glances back, brow quirked with confusion at the frown you’re wearing. “leaning over is fucking with my back,” he tsks, earning him an uncharacteristically quick attitude switch from you — your eyes roll, your entire body slumps further back on the couch that you’re basically laying across it, and your cute bottom lip juts out in an irritated, subtle pout. seriously? sukuna scoffs internally. you’re acting like such a brat??? for real this time.
your cheeks press against the cushion. your hypnotizing eyes flick between his, then eventually settle on his lips. they’re slightly chapped, pink…pretty…kissable…
“ya need something?” he snaps without any bite. you’re zoning out again. your eyes drift off, and your lips part lost in thought. “zoning out—“ are the words that you here before you feel an aggressive (light in his mind) flick to your forehead. “again!”
“ow!” you groan loud, face quickly turning and pressing into the cushion in annoyance. “what the hell!” your muffled yell barely comes out.
“what the hell me?” he tsks, rough hand landing on your head, and turning your face back for air. “I was talking and you did that shit again—“
“what thing?!” you scoff, brows pinched in anger as you stare into his eyes….his deep…dark…lidded…crimson eyes…..haah—
“that,” he exhales, hand softening on your temple, and irritation slipping away with your usual antics. “how do you even zone out that fast?”
your glossy lips part, manicured nail brushing your bottom lip, heat pooling between your legs, and eyes half lidded… “was thinking about your eyes.”
the softness of your tone was more shocking than the actual words that came out of your mouth. or it was the combination of both. or the bluntness of your gentle honey sweet voice that took sukuna by surprise…
but he blinked. once. twice—
“first it was your lips,” you whisper with a breathless sigh. your finger carefully reaching out and touching his lips. you mimic the way he parts his lips with your own. his thick brows creating a shadow over his lidded eyes. “then your eyes.” you explain with such clarity, it had sukuna short circuiting as he tries to rationalize why you’re acting this way—
“that’s why i zoned out,” you conclude, shifting closer to the edge of the couch, closer to him. your eyes dot up at him, brushing his bottom lip, pulling it down with a thumb. “you distract me sometimes.” you’re tired…it was a long day of classes and it was the middle of the week. that has to be the reason, sukuna thinks.
by now, he knows that look.
you wanna fuck.
“Mmm,” you whine the moment he presses his lips to yours. your tongue immediately finding his as your nails course through his hair. tugging. “make me cum, ryo.”
he snorts in your mouth, rough hand pushing your shirt up, thumbing your bra before hooking his thumb under and lifting up. “should’ve just told me ya want your pussy wet—“
“it’s already wet,” you cut, “been wet all day.”
shiit, he groans into your lips, pushing his hand down, past your waistband. “fucking slut.” a breathy gasp slips out as he cups your wet sticky pussy. “fucking drenched, dirty brat.” his teeth sink into your bottom lip as you whine louder, unaware how sukuna’s neck is unbelievably red. why do you taste sweeter?
“Mmm lift your hips up,” he husks. you don’t get the chance to react when he’s suddenly yanking your pants and drenched panties off. “spread ‘em.”
your tongue pokes your bottom lip, opening your legs for your fuck buddy. his huge palms press against your thighs, grabbing fistfuls and licking his bottom lip as your sticky pussy comes into view. his pupils dilate as he watches your hole twitch. and your scent immediately hits his nose. “you’re gonna taste so good today.” he mutters to himself, but your brow lifts.
“what’s different about today?”
he leans forward, eyes flicking up as he exhales. is he drunk? his eyes roll back, cock throbbing in his pants and he inhales again—fuuck, you smell so much sweeter, “nothin.” his tongue shuts you right up as he licks a long wet lewd strip up your folds. your back immediately arches off the couch, nails digging into his scalp as his beefy arms lock around your thighs, moaning. your sweet honey floods his taste buds…this pussy has always hypnotized him, aroma consuming him and taste intoxicating him…but now that he thinks about…this small little difference in taste and scent, a bit sweeter, happened last month—
“ryo—haah ah mmh ya like my pussy?” your eyes flutter as you keep them on sukuna’s flushed face.
his eyes roll back, completely falling apart between your thighs as he groans a deep husky, “fuck yeah.”
your stomach burns hot at his voice, and voice pitching higher as his tongue delves inside your hole. “haaaah—your mouth is so good, baby—ngh been wet all day,” you confess in your pleasure. “was staring at your hands all day, ryo—they’re so big…l-like your di—ahh—“ fuck you’re talking a lot, sukuna groans, annoyed how worked up your voice is getting him.
his tongue laps and sucks, his salvia creating an even bigger mess. he pulls away, cheeks dusted a deep red as he spits directly onto your puffy clit, pupils dilating as he spreads the mess all over your swollen clit. “these hands,” he runs his calloused palm over your lower stomach. your pupils grow black with lust. pupils blown as you stare at the way his hand encompasses the entire surface. his crimson irises dilate once he sees the lust all over your face. “want them inside ya?”
you nod, immediately.
he doesn’t wait.
two long, thick fingers push past the initial tightness, feeling the gummy walls of your pussy hug his digits with delight. your jaw falls slack, drool slipping as he leans down to plant wet kisses along your lower stomach, forearms and biceps flexing as he pistons his fingers in n out. the squelching fills his ears as you moan above him.
“ngh! fuh ryo, feels good, kiss—kiss me down there—“ you push his head down until his lips connect with your clit again, sucking. rough. mean. teeth sinking just hard enough to make your eyes water and a choked cry slip your lips. “ryo,” you mewl with such lewd sweetness that this huge 6’5 hunk is practically moaning in response. “ry—my pussy—ahh gun —mmm c-close—gun cum—“
but sukuna has already lost all sanity with how good your slick tastes. his eyes roll back pushing you over the edge. “mmm fuck!” you cry, lashes wet as they flutter from the pleasure coursing out of you. his throat bops swallowing and lapping your sweet slick like it’s a drug — which it might as well be with the way his cock is throbbing in his boxers just from eating his fuck buddy’s sweet pussy. “taste like fucking honey,” he groans, cleaning you up like a dog. he pants, catching his breath as he climbs up to your lips like a starved animal. he smashes his lips against you, kissing your spit slicked lips with a loud groan. how do your lips taste sweet too?
“gonna be a good brat and let me fuck this tight pussy?” He grunts, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down along with his boxers, freeing his painfully erect cock.
your tongues collide, dumb whine coming from the back of your throat, and hands running up and locking around his neck. “f’course.”
fucking you rough and fast on the couch as you babbled like a dumb slut, drunk on his cock, had him seeing stars. he was desperately trying to figure out how you're handling him with how uncharacteristically rough he’s being, but you haven’t told him to stop.
"ry—aa-haah!"
shit. he'd flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips , ass in the air as he slams his thick throbbing cock in from behind. his rough palm is pressed into your lower back keeping you in that deep arch he loves, and hand cracking the nth spank to your sore ass. "feel good?"
"so good ryo—wanna cum again -cum-ngh haah please please-"
unbelievable.
and it’s not until he’s panting on the couch, your limp body resting across it, completely and utterly spent, does he realize just how rough he was being. his jaw tenses, as the fog clears up.
“hey…” his voice treads lightly, cautious as he turns on the couch, glancing at your resting form. your shirt covers your breasts after he finally came and let you lay back on the couch. but his spend leaks out of your abused hole, and your ass is still burning from his mean spanks. “hey…” he leans over you, hand brushing your waist. grounding. “you okay?”
he watches carefully as you turn on your side, eyes heavy as you blink up at him. “yeah…you okay?”
“you okay with how we fucked?”
you don’t blink, “yeah.”
yeah, somethings up. he was rough, even he knows that much. and you took it well. more than well, you were begging for me.
all of those should’ve been signs. the closeness, the slight sweetness spike in your slick and saliva. how unbelievably heavenly you smell, all the time. how you didn’t mind how rough he was. but the cherry on top was the party friday.
the frat is lit up like a damn fever dream. neon strips line the railings, glow paint smeared across walls and skin, bass from the dj bleeding through the floors as the pool outside shimmers under colored lights. it’s packed, but not suffocating. invite-only for once. people actually have room to breathe, but it was mainly because they didn’t want any complaints so early in the semester.
sukuna is sat back on the patio couch, shirtless, skin still damp from the heat, a thin sheen of sweat catching the lights every time he moves, tattoos flexing over his well defined muscles. gojo was loud beside him, geto half-listening while scrolling on his phone, a couple other guys scattered around with some girls mingling between them. but sukuna isn’t paying attention to any of it.
he has a drink in his hand, untouched. his eyes keep drifting. back to you. somewhere near the edge of the pool, laughing at something utahime is saying, glowing under the neon like it was made for you. your bikini hugged your tits so well he’d pop a boner if he stares too hard. the droplets run down your soft skin, as he sees you fix your necklace as you say something to your friend.
he clicks his tongue, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “you ever notice they act different sometimes?” he mutters, low enough that it doesn’t carry past the music.
nanami, sitting beside him in swim shorts, thick legs spread open for all to eye and an open button up putting his defined abs on full display, along with the sneaky patch of blonde hair peaking out of his waistband, doesn’t even look up from his phone. “that’s a very broad statement.”
sukuna exhales through his nose. “nah, like—” he pauses, frowning slightly, like he’s trying to piece a puzzle together when he doesn’t have all the pieces yet. “it’s not random.”
nanami studies him for a second, then follows his line of sight, and finds you immediately. is he starting to realize his feelings for you?— “not random how?”
sukuna tilts his head, “just… different. clingier. or—” he gestures vaguely with his drink. “more into it.”
nanami raises a brow. “into what.”
sukuna gives him a look like don’t be fucking stupid.
nanami hums, finally catching on, taking a slow sip. “you’re asking if there’s a pattern to women’s behavior.”
“i’m saying there is one,” sukuna mutters aggressively. “i just don’t know what the hell it is.”
“you know,” nanami says calmly, “they have cycles.”
there’s a beat. then sukuna leans back, jaw ticking slightly, still watching you. “yeah I fucking know that,” he mutters. “It’s annoying.”
nanami glances at him again, lost. “what is.”
sukuna doesn’t answer right away. just takes another sip, eyes narrowing faintly. “the way it’s not consistent.”
nanami huffs quietly, amused now . “if you’re starting to notice now then it is consistent.”
sukuna side-eyes him. nanami is no better than gojo or geto, he’s just more subtle about his innuendos. “I’m not noticing shit—“
nanami shrugs, setting his glass down. unaware that gojo and geto have agreed on teams.
“okay! water volleyball!” gojo’s voice cuts clean through the bass, already halfway to the pool as he grins like he’s been waiting for this all night. a cheer ripples through the patio. of course it does. a house full of athletes, half-naked, girls in bikinis, a competition handed to them on a silver platter? yeah, they’re moving before the rules are even explained.
geto stretches his arms above his head as he stands, “hey! the love of god,” he mutters, loud enough for the frat president t to hear him, “try not to break anyone’s teeth this time.”
gojo laughs, already hopping to his side of the pool because obviously he’s one of the captains. “no promises.”
sukuna’s already up, taking the second captain title and just like that — whatever train of thought he was stuck on snaps clean in half. gone. replaced with something sharper, more familiar. his shoulders roll once, loose, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the space, the people already splitting into sides. his team or gojo’s team. they’re always on opposite teams. it makes it more fun.
“don’t get in my way,” he tosses to gojo as he steps around to his end of the pool, his hand brushing his stomach as he crack his neck.
“you wish,” gojo shoots back.
people start gathering, some hanging back to watch, others eager, slipping into the water, calling out sides, laughing as they pick teams. a younger pledge scrambles to the middle, already trying to take control after geto shoves him in to the play referee, whistle in hand like this is some official match.
and of course, even as chaos takes over the yard. your eyes find him. instinctive, like something in you locks in and refuses to look anywhere else.
sukuna stands at the edge, skin still glistening under the neon, muscles flexing lazily as he stretches his arm over his head. his back, his shoulders, the deep v- line that has your eyes following down to the tuft of light hair peaking out the same one you always find yourself caressing during foreplay— it’s too much. it’s always too much, but tonight it sits heavier in your chest, lower in your stomach, something warm and insistent that doesn’t let up between your legs.
your clit throbs.
“wait—” utahime grabs your wrist, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. “you hate this stuff.”
you don’t even look at her. “it’ll be fun,” you murmur, already pulling away. and then you’re moving. slipping from your seat on the edge of the pool and jumping in.
the water hits cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat that’s been building under it. you swim to sukuna’s side, breath catching slightly as you orient yourself to the chaos around you, because normally, usually, a crowded sweaty pool was something you’d avoid, but—he’s already looking at you. your thighs press together.
his eyes are not casual, not passing, he’s looking. his gaze drops first. slow and deliberate, catching the faint mark on your neck, the one he left last night, barely visible under the colored lights. his jaw ticks. then lower, just for a second, the way your body shifts in the water, the ripple of movement as you steady yourself, the rise and fall of your breasts threatening to spill out. the water calmly rocks underneath them. then his gaze shifts back to your face, and you’re still staring at him. you’re not even trying to hide it.
something about that makes his brow twitch.
because you’re not looking away. not when he meets your eyes. not when the noise around you spikes, not when someone splashes too close. your focus stays locked, heavy, almost… expectant.
it lingers a second too long. then—
“teams set!” the pledge yells, blowing the whistle way too aggressively. “first to ten— no cheap shots—“ he glances around before catching geto lounged on the other side of the pool, some girl already pressed against his arm. “OH! no punches or choking!”
“shut up and start it,” gojo calls from the other side, already grinning, bouncing lightly in the water.
sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off you for another beat. then he exhales through his nose, turning slightly, shoulders squaring as the ball is tossed into play and he’s in the pool.
the game starts rough. the second the ball is tossed, two guys are already lunging for it. water splashing high, bodies colliding mid-air before someone spikes it hard across the pool. girls moved out of the way, squealing as huge men fight. a chorus of shouts erupts from the sidelines, music still blasting behind it, neon lights flickers over wet skin and moving bodies.
gojo, the ever responsible fraternity president, grins like a man possessed on the other side. sukuna, the very responsible vice president, is barking like a mad man.
and of course, the competitive idiots fall into rhythm with each other. fast, aggressive, locked in, and every hit gets harder, a slightly more violent. every return is sharper and people start gathering closer to the edge, phones out, recording, yelling their names like it’s a real match instead of a drunk frat game.
“c’mon, kuna!” someone shouts.
“gojo! spike that shit!”
water slaps against tile. everything is moving fast, bodies move out of the way so they’re not hit by the aggressive spikes from the frat hosts. but they still refuse to leave the pool because it’s fun, messy, loud, and heated.
and then the ball comes your way. your eyes widen, barely able to think, so you just react. your hands come up, fingers pushing against it just right, and somehow, you’re sending it up in a clean arc, right to him.
sukuna moves instantly….he jumps, sculpted body cutting through the air, arm pulling back before he slams the ball down with violent force, sending it crashing into gojo’s side of the pool.
a winning point. a cheer explodes. and when he lands, water dripping down his shoulders, he glances at you, canines on display, as his deep voice cuts through the chaos to say, “good girl.” it’s low, automatic, and it slips out without thought, just like how he’d praise you when you’re alone, and his voice is raspy as he whispers it in your ear, cock usually deep in your guts as he gives you another mean thrust that you take with pride, pussy clamping when he bottoms.
something fast, hot, and dizzying rushes through you. your chest tightens, skin buzzing as your breath stutters for a second. your thighs press together instinctively under the water, pulse kicking up in a way that feels almost overwhelming. and from that moment on, you stick to him. you try to chase the ball for him, pushing it back into his reach every chance you get, doing your best to avoid the large men playing the game. but your focus narrows, locked in on your hot fuck buddy like nothing else exists. every movement feels sharper, more urgent, your body reacting before your brain can catch up.
on the sidelines, people notice. how can they not? most of the girls “playing” cling to the perimeter. and then there’s you, being an idiot, but a very hot one, throwing yourself in the middle. your bikini clings tight from the water, fabric hugging every curve, shifting every time you jump or twist. a few guys on the edge of the pool don’t even bother pretending they’re watching the game anymore. their eyes track you instead, murmurs passing between them. someone whistles when you jump to set the ball, breasts bouncing freely in the flimsy bikini top, your nipples hard underneath as water cascades like some playboy ad.
but sukuna, is too locked into the game to notice.
the first round ends with his team winning, and the second starts almost immediately, louder than before. people are picking sides now, chanting, recording, some still dancing on the grass behind them, focused on the dj, drinks sloshing as the party refuses to slow down around the chaos of the pool’s game.
you’re still right there again when it starts. you doubt you’re even playing anymore, but you wanted to see him, watch him jump high and spike the ball. watch the ink on his back ripple with his muscles. the same defined lines that you caress at night, and hug—
your attention is so narrowed, that you don’t even notice the guy at first. bodies are moving like a blur that you don’t focus on another moving behind you. until it’s too near, too familiar for someone you don’t know. then, a hand brushes your bare side under the water, lingering just a second too long making your blood run cold.
your eyes snap wide. “what the fuck!” you twist instantly, shoving him off hard, water splashing between you as your stomach turns. only a few people notice, the rest too consumed by the game until you’re moving straight towards a certain captain.
“THAT’S A FUCKING FOUL GOJO—what the—“
your arms wrap around him from behind without hesitation, pressing into him, chest flush against his back as you cling to one familiar form. tight, and instinctive.
it catches him off guard, just for a second. his body tenses slightly under your grip. his muscular arms lift, head turning halfway to see, “who the fuck—“ grabbed him in the middle of game! but then he sees you. and his eyes glance down at your familiar hands holding his chest. your name slips out of his lips, confused what you’re doing, but then the ball’s already back in play. and somehow he keeps going.
even with you wrapped around him, weight clinging to his back, he still moves, still blocks, still lands a hit that sends the ball flying back over the net. it’s messy now, uneven, but he’s too competitive to stop, jaw tight, focus split but still sharp. water splashes everywhere. people are yelling. gojo laughs from the other side. “what the hell is that— you got a handicap now?”
sukuna clicks his tongue, annoyed, shifting slightly to keep his balance with you still latched onto him. you don’t let go. not once. “you drunk?” he tries to talk to you mid-game.
“yeah,” you mutter over the music. but as more people fill the pool, and the third round feels much more chaotic, sukuna begins to notice. your grip tightens every time someone gets too close, every time someone accidentally touches you, every time your head spins just a little from the alcohol and the heat and everything. your cheek presses against his back, breath uneven, body still buzzing in a way you don’t fully understand, other than the fact that you can feel how hot it is between your legs. he smells so good…
the game drags on— until finally— gojo’s team takes the last point. a loud cheer erupts from his side, people splashing into the pool, celebrating, phones still up capturing everything.“told you,” gojo grins, pushing his wet snowy hair back, muscles flexing for the cameras as he sticks his tongue out.
sukuna exhales sharply through his nose, annoyed, shoulders tense— he doesn’t shake you off. but unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance.
you’re suddenly ripped away.
“wha—! what the fuck!” you yelp as a pair of hands grab you from underneath, a drunk junior dunking under the water before popping up with you lifted high onto his shoulders. just for the crowd to erupt.
“OH SHIT— chicken fight!”
“LET’S GO!”
“get her, get her!” other guys in the pool dunk under and lift a few laughing girls up. but you’re not one of them. your thighs clamp instinctively around the stranger’s head just to keep from slipping, heart racing, balance completely shot as water drips down your legs and chest. your hands fly to his hair, trying to steady yourself, panic flashing across your face. you didn’t agree to this. your eyes lock with sukuna immediately. wide. confused. he’s not your boyfriend— but he’s still…
something in him snaps. he straightens, fast. too fast. the playful edge from seconds ago gone completely, replaced with something sharp and violent, jaw tightening as his eyes drag over the way the guy’s hands are gripping your thighs— and the whistles from the crowd don’t help, especially when your hand reaches to adjust the way your bikini top had shifted.
“damn!”
sukuna’s fist curls. “get your fucking hands off her,” he bites out, already moving forward through the water, splashing hard as he closes the distance.
the guy just laughs, drunk, clueless and not listening. “relax, man, it’s just a chicken fight. ever heard of those?”
he doesn’t get to finish. sukuna’s already pulling his arm back, when you squeak.
“wait—!” you gasp, trying to shift your weight, panic spiking as the situation spirals way too fast—but before anything can land another pair of bodies crash into you. a second drunk chicken fight slams into your side, bodies colliding, completely losing balance. and then everything goes under. water rushes over your head in a blur of limbs and noise, the guy beneath you losing his footing as you both go down. you barely have time to register it before a hand grabs you. hard.
sukuna’s arm wraps tight around your waist, yanking you up and out of the water in one sharp motion. you cough, sputtering slightly, fingers clutching onto him as he steadies you against his side. he doesn’t even look at you at first. he’s glaring past you.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he snaps, voice low and dangerous, water dripping from his hair as he stares down the guy who just broke the surface, coughing. “you fucking grab girls without permission and I’m fucking snapping your arm in half!”
the junior lifts his hands, half-laughing, half-defensive. “yo, chill— it’s just a game—”
“i said don’t touch her,” sukuna cuts in, sharper this time, stepping forward like he’s ready to swing anyway.
the energy shifts instantly. people nearby start stepping in, hands coming up.
“aye, chill, chill—” one tries to come between them. sukuna doesn’t even notice that you’d managed to slip from his grip, still coughing as you swim to the steps of the pool, heart pounding as utahime, having seen the entire interaction helps you out.
“you okay?” she sits in front of you on the edge handing you water.
you nod, chugging half the bottle, before breathing again, “swallowed like…” you gag, “a disgusting amount of that pool water.” utahime cringes as she glances at the pool. the interaction growing even more heated, as a crowd watches sukuna curse out the junior.
“anyone else fucking grab a girl without her permission is getting fucking banned from this frat permanently!” sukuna shouts. murmurs break out across the crowd, a few glance towards you, as utahime notices, but you’re too busy washing your mouth out to care.
gojo’s aloof attitude steps in after coming back with a sweet juice in hand. “okay, okay, we’re clear on consent aren’t we guys?”
people hum, cheering for the games to continue. but then…
“didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
it lands this time, cutting through the noise and sticking just long enough for a few whistles and low laughs to ripple through the crowd. the kind of comment meant to poke, to stir, to see what the hot headed vp will do with it. but what’s worse is that a majority of the crowd has no clue what your relationship is with sukuna. aside from the frat members.
sukuna doesn’t even look at him, and he doesn’t correct it. it’s not because he wants to claim you. not because it’s true. but because it’s annoying—because explaining it, denying it, entertaining it at all feels like more effort than it’s worth. he’s your fuck buddy, he knows that, you know that, and thats all. his jaw tightens once, eyes already elsewhere, done with the conversation before it can grow legs because then he’ll really break his fucking arm.
the party moves on like it always does. music swells back up, as gojo and geto thank the heavens that sukuna was in a good mood before the argument that he wasn’t tempered to continue the fight. luckily the drinks are raised again. gojo’s already laughing, pulling attention away, and just like that the moment dissolves into noise.
sukuna’s focus shifts and lands on you.
you’re still on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, skin slick and glowing under the neon lights. your bikini clings tighter now, nipples pebbled under your soaked top, every curve on display, highlighted by the shadows of the lights above. it makes it impossible not to look. droplets trail down your thighs, catching the light as you tilt your head back slightly, still rinsing your mouth out, brows furrowed in clear disgust.
utahime sits in front of you, just as eye-catching to the hungry men around, her own bikini hugging her frame, water beading along her collarbones as she watches you with a mix of concern and amusement.
and people are staring. not subtle glances—staring like you’re something to watch. something to linger on. like the game earlier just shifted into something else entirely and now you’re part of it without agreeing. no wonder you hate these parties.
it irritates him, fast.
sukuna clicks his tongue under his breath and pushes forward through the water, tall enough that even standing in the pool, he closes the height between you easily. the neon catches on his skin too. his broad shoulders still damp, muscles flexing as he moves, water sliding down his torso in slow lines. he’s not unaware of the way people look at him either—girls nearby pausing mid-conversation, eyes dragging over him openly—but he doesn’t care. not right now. not when he reaches you.
his hand comes up without hesitation, settling on your exposed thigh where it hangs over the edge of the pool. his palm is warm even against your wet skin, fingers spreading slightly, firm enough to ground, possessive. the contact is immediate. deliberate.
the shift is noticeable. a couple of those lingering stares drop off instantly. only then does he look at you. his gaze flicks over your face, still a little flushed, still catching your breath, before settling. his gaze is steady, assessing the way your glossy lips part with an exhale after chugging an entire bottle of watet.
“you good?” he asks, voice lower now, rougher around the edges from the leftover tension. his thumb moves slightly against your skin without thinking, a small, absent motion that doesn’t match the sharpness in his expression.
utahime has to hold back an eye roll, especially when his gaze flicks over your face, then your lips. unbelievable. what’s with him? what’s stopping him from asking you out if he gets so hot headed and possessive—ughhh…utahime holds back her anger, because she was pissed when someone suddenly grabbed you and then had you dunked in the water. why does sukuna have to be so fucking weird though?! she internally curses out sukuan for being the person that always protects her best friend, but acts like a complete jerk another second.
“how much sweat did you drink?” sukuna asks, tone laced with amusement .
your eyes snap, face grimacing, “shut the fuck—up,” you gag again, hand coming up to your mouth just for utahime to snort and sukuna to bark with laughter.
“did i tell ya why we had to drain the pool last year—“ sukuna starts, utahime’s eyes widen.
“oh my god I remember!”
your face pales, nails digging into sukuna’s shoulder while the other still covers your mouth. “don’t you dare tell me.”
sukuna grimaces with an amused expression remembering what happened at last years pool party. but distracting you has somehow managed to isolate everything else around him and have his sole focus on the way you wipe your mouth with a napkin utahime — and now nanami and geto at her side — comes back with, and the way your fingers shift from his shoulder to his forearm resting across your damp lap. and the conversation flows afterwards.
gojo was still on the dance floor, completely in his own world, some girl is pressed to his side as neon lights strobe over him laughing, loud, untouchable in the way he always is. meanwhile, the edge of the pool has settled into something more intimate and funny. the conversations around overlap as you all joke loudly and throwing around slight bickering, cooling off from the chaos, but still very much alive.
and with all that, you hadn’t left. even after everything, you’re still sitting where you are, leg still dipped in the water, skin dewy under the lights, bikini keeping your pretty tits in view for a certain salmon haired man. your hair is slightly damp, pushed back from your face, exposing the curve of your neck—the faint mark sukuna left the night before still visible if someone looks close enough. and you smell heavenly. fuck if you’re alone, he’d bury his nose closer to your breasts to smell the sweat clinging.
but people are looking. they always are now.
they just don’t linger as long anymore. not with him there. sukuna leans into the edge of the pool, upper body braced beside you, his arm draped behind your back like it naturally falls there. his other hand rests lazily against your thigh, fingers tapping absently against your skin as he takes a sip from his beer. his shoulders are broad, still slick with water, veins visible along his arms as they flex with every small movement.
he looks just as much of a problem as ever. and the attention doesn’t stop, girls nearby still steal glances, whispers, watching the way he’s positioned so close to you, the way his hand hasn’t moved from your leg once. but what’s more interesting, is that you don’t move either.
you don’t push him off, don’t shift away. if anything, you lean just slightly into his space, your fingers absentmindedly tracing along his forearm where it rests across your lap, like it’s second nature. you like it there.
and sukuna notices. of course he does, with how touchy and clingy you’ve been these past few days. yes, he’s shocked you haven’t left, or haven’t asked him to go upstairs with you. instead you’re being so uncharacteristically attached.
his gaze flicks down for a second, watching the way your fingers move against his skin, something unreadable passing through his expression before he looks away again, taking another sip like it didn’t just register. his stomach churns when you lean forward slapping nanami’s stretched out hand after he said something funny.
“why the fuck are you guys sitting here?” gojo’s voice cuts in suddenly, dripping with disbelief as he approaches, hair damp, grin lazy. he looks down at your little group, then at the pool like it personally offended him. “this is embarrassing.”
utahime snorts. “she almost drowned, idiot.”
“she’s alive,” gojo shrugs immediately, already grabbing a drink from someone nearby. “get in the hot tub. it’s waaaay better!”
a couple girls attached to him nod eagerly, already following his lead as he starts heading that way without waiting for an answer. utahime glances at you. “you wanna stay out or…?”
you don’t even hesitate as you hum, soft. “yeah, why not.”
sukuna catches it.
the group starts moving, the energy shifting with them as they make their way toward the hot tub. somewhere along the path, nanami and utahime get pulled into another conversation, stopping off to the side, leaving you and sukuna to keep going without them. your skin burns as sukuna keeps a subtle hand in your lower back, biting his lip when you reach the hot tub and you step in front of him. his gaze drops to the movement of your ass, your bikini was so skimpy it’s definitely clinging on to your pussy lips too. fuck,
by the time you step into the hot tub, the heat hits instantly. you sigh without meaning to, tension melting from your shoulders as the warmth wraps around you, soaking into your skin. your body relaxes almost immediately, the contrast from the cooler pool making everything feel heavier, slower.
sukuna steps in right after you. and immediately shoves two guys aside with a sharp nudge of his shoulder. “move.”
they do quickly without argument, clearly frat members. he settles in beside you, close again, like earlier, like he didn’t just create that space for you.
gojo drops in for half a second, splashing water everywhere before grimacing. “it’s too hot,” he complains, already climbing back out. “i need another drink.”
and just like that, he’s gone again. leaving you, sukuna, and the rest of the group laughing, talking. the conversation easy as the night keeps rolling around you. especially when geto comes back with some girls and red solo cups for beer pong.
“don’t spill any in the hot tub!” sukuna barks as the girls organize the cups in place on the edge. geto slides into the pool with the ping pong balls.
“shh shh i know,” he zips his friend up as he takes aim. and as the party is brought back to the hot tub, you’re all swept up again. and your eyes are following every movement of your friend beside you. the way he’s shouting and laughing with his frat brothers, the conversations turning to fog when sukuna flexes his large bicep, the ink that wraps around it highlights how big they are. you can’t even recall the context of this sudden flex off, but you’re not complaining.
you watch his throat bop as he throws back another cup of beer, standing beside geto. your eyes trail over his sculpted chest. you suck in your bottom lip as sukuna falls back beside you. his arm draped behind you along the edge of the hot tub, barking another laugh at some crap geto is spewing, completely distracted.
“I swear TO GOD, you told me to go for that dive!” geto throws his hands up, flabbergasted.
“nah nah nah—“ sukuna shouts over, shaking his head with an amused expression, “I told you—“
“nah—satoru!!” geto looks over his shoulder, waving down the president. “SATORU!”
gojo’s head whips around. however, the debate is the furthest thing from your mind, honestly you can’t even understand what these idiots are talking about. but— there’s one idiot that smells heavenly.
sukuna distracted, doesn’t notice how much closer you’re pressed to him, how your lashes flutter at the mix of cologne and chlorine flooding your nose, and dizzying your mind. he’s so—uh..when men— your brain is short circuiting. literally. mind so consumed by how big and strong this man beside is, that all you can think about is how he protected you. he pulled you out of the water. snapped at that guy…for you.
you’re not normally this moved. but it was the series of events that unfolded, all in the last few hours, that has you doing what you do next.
“please! you know i did not agree to that!” geto tsks, pointing his finger at gojo who’s laughing, sitting at the edge of the hot tub, legs in. and the two — along with the rest of the group involved in the debate — are distracted, and unaware of the fact that the pretty girl that sukuna almost started a fight over, is slipping her pretty hand inside his swim shorts.
sukuna tenses. breath hitching.
his eyes snap to you, stomach clenching. “what’re you—“ he chokes when you squeeze his thick base without warning. your cheek casually presses against his shoulder, wetting your bottom lip. your leg is tucked against his side, as the other swings over his knee, pretty tits squished against his arm. your wrist rolls, stroking his flaccid cock alive.
“ryo…” you speak low enough so that only sukuna can hear. “was jus’ thinking about you.” his jaw tenses, hand clenching at the edge of the tub, leaning his head down.
“you’re the one that doesn’t like this shit,” he husks, throat bopping as you bat your lashes up at him, bitting your lip as you give his cock another squeeze, pushing your wet tits against his arm. “there’s people—“
“then be normal, ryo,” you say, all while nuzzling him like a clingy g— “just wanted to feel how big you are.”
his heads tips back, what’re you even saying?
you keep your cheek pressed against his shoulder, lip tucked between your teeth as you stroke the vp’s fat throbbing cock in the middle of a party and in a hot tub full of his close frat friends.
it wasn’t difficult for his dick to fully harden within seconds of your hand making contact. you let out a soft exhale, pressing your practically naked body against him like you could get any closer than you already are. but to make matters worse, he was so unbelievably turned on that you were touching him in public! fuuck, his stomach flexes, biting back a groan when your thumb swipes his bulbous tip, the water made it difficult for you to keep a fast pace stroke, but his skin was still prickling with heat.
“ryo, is this okay?” you softly pant in his ear, a hum like moan escapes your lips just by the way he exhales through his nose, turning his head to you, aroma engulfing you.
to anyone else it just looked like you were having a private conversation with each other. the hot tub and pool, a few feet away, booming with chaos, no one was paying attention to you guys. but even with all that information, sukuna — who spreads his legs further apart in the water, biting his lip when you kiss his neck now, sucking a light bruise on his flushed skin — knows that you’d never do this. you get touchy when you’re drunk, whispering dirty shit in his ear. but you’ve only had a couple drinks to make you tipsy enough to enjoy the party and remember, not black out drunk to jerk him off in public.
“yeah—it’s okay,” his head drops forward, hot red flush crawling up his neck and stinging his cheeks as he nudges your head with his.
“yeah?” you repeat with a coo.
he bites back a pathetic groan, arm sliding to your waist under the water, gripping your flesh like his life depends on it. you’re intoxicating.
“yeah baby.”
a flush of heat runs between your legs at his deep bedroom voice. sukuna is so hot, he’s so hot, so pretty, so sexy! you squeal internally, leaning closer to press your lips against his sharp jaw, whining just low enough for him to hear. your wrist twists down his cock. you hadn’t even full realized that you’d taken him out of his swim trucks, to possessed to care as his fingers dig into your waist, while the other balls into a fist against the tube’s edge.
“are you close, ryo? is your big cock gonna cum?”
unbelievable.
sukuna’s jaw tenses, abs tightening just by your voice. you’ve been hanging up on how big he is. how big his hands are. how big his dick is — scratch that, you’re using the word cock now. yeah he’s gonna fuckin’ cum soon if you keep talkin’ like that.
“there’s so many people around ry,” you shy quietly, “you don’t think they know I’m playing with you?” your slightly tipsy eyes bat up at him, pupils completely dilated. his eyes briefly sweep around him, the alarms flashing in his mind don’t seem to phase him as he drops his lips down to brush yours.
“what if they are aware?” he husks, lidded eyes boring into yours. “does that make y’r pussy wet?” he wets his lip, thighs flexing when you give his cock a squeeze as he speaks. “ya like knowing that there’s eyes everywhere…watching your slutty self jerk me off.”
your brain short circuits. face burning hot.
“I’m not a slut,” you whisper, just as you’re practically straddling his thigh now, with the way you’re inching closer to him every second. his hand slides from your waist to your ass, gripping the flesh as he pulls it apart letting you feel the warm tube water touch your heated pussy.
“you’re gettin on top of me—“
“to protect your dignity,” you attempt a frown, but your eyes keep flicking to his lips, brushing your lips against them again, just for him to pull back, again.
“didn’t take you as someone so generous,” he quips, hips angling up, subtly telling you to keep stroking him, even if it’s starting to feel like edging. “but,” he bites back another groan, “but to me, ya just look like another slut that wants to get her little pussy stuffed.”
you blink. once.
sukuna can see the lust burst behind your eyes. your thighs clamp around his beefy thigh, your hand squeezing his tip, and your lips parting. “is that so bad?”
ah fuck.
“you can’t say those words to a man,” sukuna’s rasps.
you pout, pressing your wet breasts against his chest, trapping his cock between your bodies. your hot breath fans against his face, scent invading his mind, and your lips brush against his, this time licking his bottom lip. once. twice. your tongue strokes his bottom lip, waiting for him to invite you in, whining a little louder when he refuses. “ryo.”
his large palms grip your ass. your flimsy bikini could easily be pulled to the side, exposing you just like him. your cheeks flush, arching even more, your arms are tossed around his broad shoulder, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, desperate. needy. “I’ve been holding myself back ryo,” you quietly speak, unaware how much like déjà vu this feels. memories of last month flashing in his mind about those exact words coming from your lips as you climbed into his lap in the middle of a party. “you have to take care of it.”
“i have too?” he quips with a sharp edge in his tone.
your flush with embarrassment, lips petting as your eyes flutter shut, “please…please can you take care of it.”
unbelievable.
his cock twitches violently against your stomach. his muscular thigh flexes under your pussy making your lips part.
as you and sukuna speak in hushed whispers. a good group of people have take notice of the awkward shifting in the hot tub and the unrecognizable look on sukuna’s face. but specifically the girl that the sukuna let attach herself to him during a violently competitive water volleyball match and almost pick a fight with. he’s smirking as she whispers in his ear, her lips even pressing his lobe, making the intimidating vice president blush?!
“her tits are all over him,” one whispers, taking a sip as they watch from a distance, both sitting at the pools edge watching the events unfold a few feet’s away in the hot tub. it’s not obvious unless you’re staring as hard as these guys, or if you’re a certain man laughing as you stand up at the edge of the tub, face dropping for a millisecond when you catch your vice president getting off by a hot girl.
fucking animals, geto shakes his head, eyes flicking to gojo, easily communicating with him about you know.
gojo’s brows pinch glancing over from his seat at the edge of the tub, to— “oh shit!”
geto elbows him. “idiot!”
gojo’s hands fly to his mouth, laughing hysterically as he stares at the way his short tempered friend is blushing like crazy, and making it obvious to anyone that he’s getting his dick touched right now. “do they know what they’re doing?” gojo speaks in hushed whispers.
“obviously,” geto sits beside gojo, the tub water doesn’t seem to be appealing anymore. and yet there’s still a few people on the sides laughing, too drunk to notice.
“fucking pervs,” gojo snickers.
a beat passes.
then gojo turns, eyes wide when he sees geto staring blankly at him. “what?”
“you’re worse!” geto slaps him upside the head. gojo gasps in shock. “I can’t even remember how many times you fucked someone in here and in the pool—“
“hey,” gojo frowns, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “that was…b-because they were hot.”
geto scoffs, “you weren’t even subtle about them, everybody knew you were fucking them. YOU’RE the biggest perv.”
gojo nods, “yeah…”
your whine flows directly into sukuna’s ear, lips coming back to his. “why won’t you kiss me?” you quietly demand.
his dimples press into his cheeks as he bites back a smirk. “we’re jus’ talking,” he says your name, but in that deep way he does when he’s stuffing you with his cock…which he’s not.
you sit up closer, sliding higher up his thigh, knee rubbing harshly against his cock — “ah!” you squeal suddenly straddling his lap instead of his thigh. his red irises sink into yours, watching the way your glossy lips part glancing at the surface of the hot tub trying to make out how close his cock is to where you need him. “you’re hard ryo.”
“and?”
your eyes flick up to him, pretty brows pressing together, “and we’re not jus’ talking—“
“y’know—“ he suddenly chokes.
you’ve moved your bikini to the side, and pushed his cock down, fully sitting on his cock and sliding across it, hips shaking, stimulating your needy clit.
your name cuts through the air, his grip moves to grab your hips, trying to keep you still, but his body betrays him as he bucks against you. “fuck, woman.”
your lips press against sukuna, whining like a desperate slut when he finally kisses you back. and this was why he didn’t want to entertain you this quickly. the sweet taste of your lips immediately rush the heat down into his cock, his arm wraps around your back, holding the back of your head as the other grips your ass, groaning as your lips smack in wet hungry kisses. your tongues collide, spit collecting in your mouth as he groans in response.
sukuna has to be responsible. he has too. but you’re such a fucking slut— touching his cock, stroking him in public, rubbing your body (his biggest weakness) against him like you’re alone together. and now rubbing you’re humping his cock like you can even feel something with the water’s friction.
all of it was a factor, and for some unexplainable reason, all the dots seemed to have connected at this exact moment—like a huge light bulb going off in his head.
“shit.”
you hum at the way his deep voice sends a warm heat blooming in your stomach. “are you turned on, ryo?” your lips purse, kissing his, unaware of the sudden realization he’s come too. “keep kissing me.”
your fingers thread through his short locks, gripping him as you keep his lips moving yours.
but sukuna’s palm splays across your spine, groaning at the you can’t even stop to catch your breath. then his grip tightens. his mouth drags slower this time, more deliberate. he’s testing something, and the way you react—how quick you melt back into him, how your nails press into his shoulders like you’re holding on and the pitched whine that leaves your lips when he tries to pull away.
“how bad d’you need me?” he murmurs, voice low, rough, right against your pretty lips.
you don’t hesitate. “so bad,” you breathe, almost frustrated, because it’s obvious.
his eyes flick over your face, searching, calculating—then narrowing slightly. “yeah?” he hums, thumb pressing into your waist, grounding you as you shift again, his cock snug between your folds. “why,” he asks, tone not soft or gentle, but testing.
you shake your head slightly, breath catching, fingers tightening on him. “because— i just—” you exhale sharply, frustrated, needy, “i just want you to touch me.”
that’s all he needs. a quiet, almost amused exhale leaves him, something darker settling behind his eyes now. nanami’s little comment about “noticing now” makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. it doesn’t mean anything that you’ve had this friend with benefits deal long enough for him to start noticing a pattern every month. especially when this part comes around and you’re practically begging him to just touch you. he highly doubts that you even notice it.
“been like this all night,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but his grip doesn’t loosen. if anything, it gets firmer. “can’t keep your hands off me, huh?”
you don’t even deny it. you just pull him back in. and this time he lets you. let’s you kiss him like it’s your last time, let’s you tug his hair like he belongs to you. let’s you pull away with panting at him through glossy lidded eyes.
and then sukuna notices.
the shift.
your breathing breaks. shallow and uneven. you can’t quite catch it as your lips part, soft, glossy, letting out these higher, breathier sounds that you’re not even trying to hold back anymore. it’s quieter than the music, but he hears it. feels it.
his grip tightens instinctively.
your hips are moving without any rhythm now. they’re slow, needy, desperate. your body chasing something it can’t reach fast enough. your fingers press into his lower stomach, clutching there like you need something solid to hold onto, your head tipping forward, lashes fluttering like a fucking angel. and your mouth falls open. a soft, pitched sound slips out of you—one you don’t even seem aware of—and it’s enough to make something dark flicker across his expression.
“…fuck,” he mutters under his breath, eyes locked on your face now, watching every little change his cock twitching uncontrollably.
your brows pinch, then your body tenses, then softens, like a wave hitting and pulling back all at once. your grip on him tightens, thighs pressing in, grounding yourself on his cock without even thinking about it.
and he doesn’t move. doesn’t interrupt it. he just watches. because now he knows. and all he can think is how unbelievably hot you look in his eyes—like something wired wrong in his brain just flipped on. women that are ovulating mean they’re more likely to get pregnant. fuck. why is his brain latching onto that part? you’re his fuck buddy. this is simple. it is simple. it’s perfectly reasonable—completely normal, even—for him to get turned on thinking about how much you cling to him, how much you crave him, how much you need him, how your body reacts to him like this. that doesn’t mean he wants to get you—
absolutely the fuck not.
but still…fucking women. you’re insane. his brain is short circuiting while you’re coming undone on his lap, in a hot tub, in the middle of a packed party.
and the way you’re panting, your breasts pushed together as you keep a hand on his lower abs, pussy spasming as your orgasm rocks through you, has something low and satisfied settling in your fuck buddy’s chest. his hand slides up your back again, slower this time, more deliberate.
“yeah…” he murmurs, almost to himself, thumb pressing lightly into your side as your breathing tries to steady. “that’s what i thought.”
his lips ghost over you.
then he feels it…the eyes.
his dark gaze flicks up. meeting the dilated blue and black ones, along with the others in the crowd. they all saw, didn’t they. witnessed something that had his jaw tightening and his pupils returning to their size.
“fuck me,” you pant quietly, arms lazily coming back to his shoulders coming down from your climax. you kiss him deeply, unaware of the mess you’re causing inside his brain. “I’ve heard people say hot tub’s make you orgasm better,” you lick his tongue, “because of the hot water.”
his grip tightens around you, eyes open and staring past you at the people eyeing the arch in your back as you make out with him like you didn’t just hump yourself to an orgasm in public.
“do you wanna cum too ryo?” your mischievous smile would’ve made any man buckle, but sukuna wasn’t any man. and he sure as shit isn’t a fucking cuck.
“no.”
his sudden tone shift had you pulling back, wet hand touching his damp cheek. sukuna’s thick brows were pulled tightly, clearly angry, at what? you’re not sure. but you’re too lax to think much of it as you squish his cheeks between your fingers. his tatted arm possessively hugged you, eyes briefly leaving the not so subtle audience behind you, to meet your glass eyes.
“you mad I came before you?” you tease, head tilting in mockery. cute. “it’s okay, I’ll make ya cum,” you whisper, smile gracing those sinful lips for yours. “I’ll let you choose too…”
you shrug biting your lip, batting your pretty lashes at him. “you always call it that. I’m just using your vocabulary, mister suh…ku…nuh.”
that was his final straw, because in a blink of an eye, sukuna’s tucking himself and pushing off the tub’s seat, standing up. water cascades down the sharp planes of his abs, his swim trunks clinging low on his hips—leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
and people notice.
of course they do.
your jaw drops for half a second, eyes going wide before heat floods your face so fast it almost burns. you shoot up right after him, fist clenching at your side, brows pinching tight. “what’re you doing?”
“we’re going upstairs,” he says simply, like there aren’t a million eyes on him, more specifically his thick bulge. girls are openly staring now, not even trying to hide it as their gazes drag over him, over the obvious outline pressing against his trunks.
your stomach twists. uncomfortable. sharp. ugly. you don’t name it. you won’t name it because it’s stupid. you no claim, no say, no right to feel any type of way about who looks at him or how they look at it. but still, your jaw tightens because the way they’re staring is making your blood boil and it’s like they’re in on something they’re not supposed to be. they’re looking at something that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with you. just you.
your eyes flick back to him, to the way the water trails down his body, the way he stands there like he doesn’t give a single fuck about the attention. and it only makes it worse. he looks like he’s been carved out of stone. something untouchable. and everyone’s fucking touching him with their eyes.
your lips press into a thin line, pulse uneven, heat sitting low in your stomach now for an entirely different reason as you step closer to him without even realizing it, hand settling on his stomach blocking the view from the onlookers. your fingers twitch. and you hate…hate how much it bothers you.
“you’re hard,” you huff, pushing him to step out of the tub, heart beating uncontrollably.
sukuna snorts, leaning down, “yeah no shit.”
“people are staring,” you grit.
your pulse stops. the air shifting around you, then you feel it. sukuna’s eyes bore into you, as his palm cups the side of your neck. your lips part in confusion when his gruff voice cuts.
“they’ve been staring.” the muscles on his jaw flex, pupils moving over your face as his gaze drops to your body. “they all…” his words trail off. he can’t say it…he can’t tell you they all fucking saw you cum, or the way your entire form looked like something straight out of every guys wet fantasy. all because of that unspoken tug that twists in his chest as you look up at him.
his head tips back in defeat.
unaware of the turmoil, you continue pushing him back, glancing briefly over your shoulder to see a few eyes not on the party but staring at sukuna.
“can you walk faster,” you mutter.
sukuna suddenly grabs your wrist after another push backwards, almost making him trip. his grip is firm and fast, yanking you back toward him before you can take another step, your body colliding lightly into his chest. water still drips from both of you, heat clashing with the cool night air as he steadies himself, jaw tightening for a second.
“watch it,” he mutters, low, though there’s no real bite to it. if anything, there’s something else there. his hand doesn’t leave your wrist. instead, it slides up, fingers curling tighter as he pulls you closer. closer. until there’s barely any space left between you. you barely get a word out before he leans down and kisses you.
hard.
it’s sudden. messy. all teeth and heat, like he’s cutting off whatever rush of thoughts were building in your head. your hands come up instinctively, gripping into his shoulders as he angles you just right, one hand now firm at your waist to keep you there. your lips part, immediately tasting his skilled tongue.
and around you, the party doesn’t stop. it never does when it’s grown this chaotic. but there are pockets, small ones, where people notice. gojo, still leaning back against the hot tub’s edge, lets out a low laugh. “zero awareness,” he mutters, clearly entertained. geto just shakes his head, amused, watching the scene unfold like it’s expected. neither of them have the energy tonight to call their friend out, but they’ll be sure to give him shit tomorrow.
but off to the side, a couple girls lean into each other, whispering behind their solo cups, eyes flicking between sukuna and the very obvious situation he’s not bothering to hide. further back, a few of the same guys from earlier in the pool linger, their stares a little too heavy, a little too interested, but sukuna doesn’t register it.
he’s too focused on you. too focused on the way you kiss him back just as hard. how you’re still letting out those fucking whines and moans into his hot mouth. too focused on how quickly you fold into him like he’s the oxygen keeping you alive. to him, this urgency and impatience, just reads as one thing. you want him so bad.
he pulls back just enough to breathe, lips still brushing yours, his gaze dropping to your face, slightly dazed, flushed, and lips parted from the kiss.
“…yeah,” he exhales, almost amused, thumb pressing into your waist like he’s grounding himself. “you taste so good.”
your fingers tighten around his bicep, the other around his shoulder, breath uneven as you blink up at him, still catching up.
“can we—” you swallow, then try again, quieter but more urgent, “can we go upstairs now?”
there’s a beat. then his hand slides down to yours again, grip tightening as he turns, already moving toward the house without another word—pulling you with him. he pushes straight through the noise that follow inside, the lights, the bodies still dancing in the kitchen like nothing. all the way up to his room, and immediately kicking the door shut.
and within a blink of an eye, your tongue is lolling out as sukuna sits behind you, fingers digging into your ass and face buried from behind.
“fuh—fuck yeah,” you drawl, lips wet at the feel of sukuna tongue dragging inside your pussy, lapping up and toying with your rim before going back to suck your slick juices. “c’mon ry, haah…” you’re pushing his head back, so you can sit up. you move to tug his wet trunks off, crawling onto his lap once he discard them. unbothered by the tick in his jaw at your stubbornness, because in seconds, your head is tossed back, and your back is arching as you sink down on nine thick fat inches. “a….ah—“
your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back at the unbelievable stretch. your pussy swallowing every inch like the slut he loves.
“there ya go,” he praises, fingers digging into your ass as you stare at his lips. his sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip as the slick that lubricates his cock. your pussy a generous fountain as you roll your hips, letting his cock stuff deep inside you. “take this fuckin’ cock like a good bitch.”
“ry…haah…” you’re moaning in choked gasps, drool peaking at the corner of your lips as you finally sit back on his thighs.
the man’s pupils dilate as you stroke your lower stomach, feeling the bulge as you bat your lashes up at him. “you’re inside me now, ryo.”
fuck you. seriously.
his brain short circuits in seconds. and now all he sees is you.
his body reacts like a dog with his master. obeying your needs like he’s wired to do that. and he’s not complaining. his hand falls on your ass, beefy thighs spreading, as he meets your bounces with rough snaps of his hips. your ass claps against his thighs with each bounce, gasps piercing the air as he fucks up into you with full force. and you let him.
“look like a fuckin’ porn star in top of me,” he grunts, swallowing a moan when you clamp around him, finger tugging on the knot around your neck letting your bikini finally fall off, freeing yours tits. “fucking brat—“
his tongue falls out, licking your tit that bounces in his face, lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking desperately. and he’s not nice about it. because now he knows. he knows you’ll let him. when you’re ovulating you’ll let him be a little harder, because it feels good. it feels good to feel his teeth bite down on your nipple possessively. it feels good when he spanks your ass until your eyes are rimmed red and flooding with tears.
it feels good to have him obsessed with you, because all you’re begging for is…
“cu—uh—cum.”
an electric current runs down his spine, jaw clenching and head tipping back, flooding your tight pussy with his thick load.
“shit—nghhh fuuuck—fuck baby,” he’s gripping your hips as you press against his stomach, rocking on his cock. he doesn’t fully realize his back is laying against the bed. not when you’re milking his cock like he’s some fucking cow…and yet… “shit keep goin, baby—yeah ya want m-Mmm shit.”
“feel so good ryo.” you shake your ass, feeling his cock twitch inside you when his arm wraps around you, tugging you down to his chest.
“you can keep going?”
you smile, hand touching his cheek, as your tongue strokes his bottom lip. “yeah.” you sigh, whining so softly he would’ve missed it. and you continue like that, kissing him over and over, sighing and calling his name as he pulls out, his fingers push inside your pussy from behind.
“y’r killing me with this tight pretty pussy,” he coos, sending a wave of heat through your veins.
you mewl against his lips, earning a hard spank to your ass, just for his middle and ring finger to slip back inside you. and he doesn’t that for god know how long, and when you finally spasm around his digits, he’s flipping you over and easily getting on top.
“keep em open cmon.” his low voice has your pussy pulsing, pushing his previous load out. he must know his voice’s affects on you.
you hold your legs open, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch sukuna stroke his member over you. the room smells of chlorine, you, and him. “theere we go,” he groans, palm pressing against your knee as he kneels closer to your open legs, dilated pupils staring at the mess between your legs as he slaps his hard cock on your pussy. “what dirty fuckin’ girl,” he drags his cock between your slippery folds, exhaling through his nose when his engorged tip catches your sore clit.
“ryoomen,” you call softly, like you haven’t been all over these last two days.
he snorts, “what happened to mister sukuna? don’t tell me you’ forgot how you humped yourself to an orgasm in the pool—“
“hot tub.”
“my bad,” he remarks sarcastically, tip pushing inside then pulling out again, teasing. “still rubbed this pussy raw, look,” he slaps his cock again, thumb rubbing your little bundle of nerves making you let go of your legs— “ah—keep em open.” he spanks the inside of your thigh. “dirty girls need to be taught a lesson.”
“pleaseee,” you scoff, sitting up on your elbows, “you were literally slapping everyone around with his hard your dick was.”
sukuna barks out a laugh. “my dick’s that big?”
you glance down at him, then back up. “I wasn’t being dirty. you were dirty too.”
“me?” he’s baffled, you’ve been throwing yourself at him all night!
you raise a brow at him, relaxing back against the pillows and headrest, eyeing him. “you never took your hands off me.”
sukuna scoffs, “as if, you latched onto me on the pool.”
“then i went to hime to wash my mouth out, and you—“ you point at him with emphasis, “came swimming to me, touching me, stroking my thigh, my back.” your brow quirks again, and sukuna goes mute. his jaw ticks, glancing over your face as your calf subtly hooks over his thigh, stroking up as your hands lay on your stomach, waiting.
“you…” he licks the back of his teeth, sharp eyes threatening, but… “so what if I had my hands on you?” oh, he admits it. your cheeks sting, wetting your lip as you shrug.
“well,” you tilt your head again, slightly embarrassed now, glancing down at his inked chest. “like…you can’t blame me for getting turned on then.”
“because I’m touching you?”
you nod.
“like this,” his palm trails from your knee, slowly up your thigh. the warmth of his skin feels like it’s leaving a trail across your body.
you nod.
his hand reaches your waist, eyes boring into yours. his cock throbbing at this point, he can feel the slick of your arousal costing his cock as it rests against your pussy. turning to some light foreplay after just fucking you was messing with his head…because….it feels so good.
“what about when I’m touching your waist,” his thumb strokes the soft skin. “it’s not your ass.”
your breath is uneven. your heart beats against your rib cage. “still,” you exhale.
“still turns you on?” he clarifies, catching the way your lips part, breathless just by the way he’s flirting with you. his cock twitches…you’re gorgeous.
you nod.
his free hand caresses your hips, moving it up your body in feather-like-caresses. his other arm is pressed beside you, keeping himself up as he watches your arms lay bend beside you. his hand lightly brushes the side of your breast before trailing over your collarbone. “still?”
you nod, wetting your bottom lip, blown pupils maintaining eye contact.
his thumb caresses your collarbone, eyes flicking between your eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling in uneven breaths. “how about now?” his palm glides over your bicep, then down your arm, before threading his fingers with yours.
you squeeze his hand, eyes unable to tear away from his. his face inches closer to yours, exhaling against your lips. “I think you’ve jus’ been horny these past few days.”
your breath stutters, angling your chin up, “obviously,” you mutter against his lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating.”
something dark and electric flashing through his eyes. a low exhale leaves him, almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it—just heat, thick and immediate, his grip on your hand tightening to the point it almost borders on rough.
“yeah?” he murmurs, voice dropping, rougher now, like it’s scraping out of his throat. his forehead nudges against yours for a second, like he’s grounding himself, but it doesn’t work. if anything, it makes it worse. “tell me you want me to stuff you then.”
“I want you to stuff me, ryo,” you repeat, breathless as his jaw slacks finally rocking his hips into yours, slick cock massaging your folds.
“keep going,” he husks.
your free hand trails up his bicep, the other still holding his hand like an anchor. “I want you to fuck me. use me. cum in me.”
“ah fuck—“ he slips his hand between your bodies, pushing his cock down and snapping his hips into yours, sheathing his entire length inside. your jaw drops, broken cry slipping out. “y’ really know how to make a man fucking hard.”
your lips are glossed with spit as presses his lips against them. swallowing your moans as he snaps his hips into a mean thrust, picking up a brutal pace without warning.
and you love it.
the base downstairs shakes the bedroom walls, the laughing and chatter outside the windows is nothing compared to the way you’re panting and crying in his ear. the lights flickering from the strobe lights outside, only serve to illuminate your flushed face as you cum.
“fuck, you still want more,” he’s already kissing you again, and again. spit mixing together against your tongues as he pulls away. he pants over your face, his cheeks flushed pink and his cock rubbed raw. “fuck gunna cum…ngh yeah fuck fuck—“ he pistons his cock inside you poor cunt, dilated pupils zeroing on the mess that’s gushing from you. his chuckle is broken with his groan as he fucks you through it all. “keep squirting baby, won’t make me stop.”
and he doesn’t. his thrusts are rough. harder than usual because he knows he’ll get away with it just a bit more when you’re ovulating. and even as you’re gasping, back of your hand raised to your mouth, pussy spasming as sukuna slams his body weight behind each thrust — you don’t push him away.
“gunna cum…shiit, shit it’s coming—“ and it feels like a damn crashing. his cock pulses inside you, squirting buckets inside your poor cunt. “haah fuh—“ his abs flex, body weight dropping on top of you, hugging you tight as he rocks his hips into lazy humps. the rasp in his throat has you holding him tight, unbothered by how unbelievably heavy he is.
and sukuna stays like that. face buried in your neck, arms clutching onto you, and brain fried.
“you also smell sweeter,” he mutters.
“I don’t. you’re just a freak.”
he buries his nose deeper in your neck, inhaling sharply. “haah fuck, yeah you definitely smell good.”
your brain short circuits, cheeks flooding hot as you wiggle underneath him. “you can’t—“
“you humped me in the hot tub.”
your brows scrunch together. “so?”
he licks your neck, “then you can’t blame me for still being turned on by you.” he licks a strip up to your ear, a tingle runs down to your pussy, squeezing around him.
he smirks.
of course he does. and why wouldn’t he? you’re already nudging him to your lips, kissing him again, like you’re stuffed with loads of his cum.
“you’re cute,” he mutters between kisses, and even if that makes your stomach flip, and your face burn, and heart skip a beat…you don’t comment about it. you don’t address. and you sure as shit don’t think about it.
and the simple answer is, he’s kissing you right now and that’s all you want to think about it.
more frat!kuna here
a/n: I’m blaming the grammar errors on you guys for the rush (I also hate proof reading). but I hope u guys enjoyed it. believe me when I say, I was not expecting it to be that freaking long, I just really wanted to write sukuna and reader kinda skinny dipping, without losing their dynamic or doing something super uncharacteristic, so I dragged out the plot. but still I hope u guys liked it!
and thank you for the wait. I really put most of my free time into this so I can’t tell u when I’ll finish the next chapter of the series, so bare with me for another possible week of agony :’(
sexual or not, he just can't help but get so warm and giddy whenever you press your lips anywhere onto his body
a cheek kiss when he gets a bit jealous in public always puts him at ease.
a kiss to the top of his forehead whenever he's feeling sick or anxious clears his mind.
a chaste kiss to the jaw whenever you're being used as his personal weighted blanket makes him melt and whenever you press your lips to the top of his head while he's laying half asleep on your chest? that just makes him fall in love with you all over again.
he's never acted like he's not obsessed with them-- your kisses, in fact he's shameless to admit how clingy he is when it comes to them.
it's a late sunday morning. you and your redhead have been awake for coming on an hour now, just talking about everything and nothing all at once. he's stretched out across the mattress with you on top of him, both of you lazily tangled in the satin sheets.
mindlessly through quiet, mumbled chatter, you plant an innocent kiss to your boyfriends lower cheek-- right next to the corner of his mouth.
his mouth turns into a sleepy, sluggish grin, turning his love-filled eyes onto your gaze.
"again?" he mumbles with those sweet eyes you can never deny.
you smile with all the genuine affection you could muster, complying without a complaint in the world.
with that you plant another kiss-- a bit higher this time.
his grin only stretches out farther and larger than before.
"again." he says, his voice lighter and full of sleepy, natural adoration.
you kiss him again.
now his grin has gotten toothy.
"again."
you give him another.
"again"
you give him another.
by now, his cheeks are flushed scarlet. heat radiating off of every single spot you've planted your lips onto and more.
he doesn't stop requesting for more, and he doesn't plan to. the kisses you plant pile onto each other time after time after time, his voice getting more and more sluggish until it's almost incoherent.
oops! you've kissed your lover boy to sleep! he's snoring slightly with steady breaths, napping the day away just a bit more.
watching his chest rise and fall is almost hypnotizing, making a nap cuddled on your big warm man sound better and better.
running your fingers through his deep red hair a few more times, you finally stop staring and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. letting out a sigh, you drift off to sleep thinking about how you're exactly where you want to be.
Satoru Gojo is a notorious demon - even Lucifer and Satan fear him, so how did you - a new angel - end up on an assignment with him!? The thing is, Satoru has loved you in countless lifetimes, and in every single one you both tragically die before your lives can really start together. From medieval to the regency era, to the most recent times, he always remembers you. When he finds out his love is an Angel in Heaven, where demons and angels can't be together? Well he'll burn heaven, hell and earth to be with you. But... will you remember him, and can you all break the cycle of reincarnation?
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - demon! satoru x angel! reader
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - very angstyyy, extremely emotional, forbidden love and doomed lovers - but with a happy ever after!! Explicit smut, holding his horns, use of that demon tail, cunnilingus, p in v sex, multi rounds, creampies, size kink (he's like 7ft) breed kink - 10.6k wc
this was a commission for @secretsofchance and I fell in love with this idea!! tysm my love <3 art in the middle is by @3aem !!
Satoru Gojo was the most notorious devil there was.
Everyone knows all about the demon that made Satan himself shake his head – all angelic looking and beautiful on the outside, those heavenly blue eyes and the snowy white hair, it was hard to realize he wasn’t one. Yet on the inside? Satoru was pure chaos – the most unhinged creature known to god or man.
How exactly did you end up paired with him of all immortals?
You – the most angelic of all angels, a relatively new one at that, some of these beings have been here for millenia, whereas you had died just a short time ago. You quickly made the ranks with your powerful presence, surpassing many – but of course you still have assignments to do, still have much to prove if you hope to rise further, and today is no different.
Today’s assignment against the Satoru Gojo just wasn’t even fair, everyone from your class (yeah, angels still had classes, fuck you all had jobs too) felt instantly terrible for you, no angel could ever win against Gojo’s influence. It was just a cruel thing to set you up against, but your instructor had it out for you, clearly.
You gave a brave smile as they looked at you with pity, hoping they would tell you it was some sort of joke, and they’d give you a real assignment, but no. Satoru Gojo is right there when that swirling, shimmering vortex sucks you right down to Earth, where you were to meet up with him.
When you first saw Satoru you sort of expected him to look more… demon like? Perhaps a bit like the dark haired, smirking Lucifer you’ve run across before – now he gave pure demonic energy. Of course many of you all had a little bit of a mix of both, no one was inherently good or evil, including angels and demons.
Yet Satoru was bright, he was pure and beautiful.
You can sense his power – it takes your breath when he flicks his pretty wings your direction, his eyes glowing an eerie blue as he smiles right at you, that tail flicking side to side.
You peer up at those horns on his head, they curve out just a bit and come to little points, blue tipped, glimmering underneath the sunlight. He tilts his head curiously as he walks up to you, gaze flitting across your pretty white wings, the ones you’ve just grown, your first wings were embarrassingly small.
Oh yeah, Angels and Demons still make fun of you too, the school is just as cliquey as college, actually more like high school, if you failed an assignment they’d straight up haze you. And the alcohol in heaven? Well it’s so damn strong it’ll make you dizzy, you all have a high tolerance due to the very nature of your beings, the first time you drank it they had all laughed at you.
Demons and Angels once hated each other, and fought constantly, but now they tended to work together. There had to be a balance on the earth, after all – not too much evil, not too much good. Necessary evils were something you couldn’t get behind, you always tried to do the ‘right thing’, whereas Satoru was notorious for delving in human pleasures, and living the life of debauchery.
“Look at you, a pretty new Angel,” he says with a little smirk, his fingers brushing against one of your feathered wings, you gasp as you feel it, black painted nails taking one and rubbing ever so softly.
You didn’t expect to have this reaction as an angel – not that you remember much of your human life at all, some people could, but you unfortunately lost much of it when you woke up here. You remember some sensations, including desire, love – you can almost taste it but it was so long ago, you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
Your heart is racing in your chest, cheeks burning just being in his proximity, barely able to form a word. “So ya got assigned with me, huh?”
“I guess so,” you murmur, your eyes met with his chest, the strong muscles barely covered by the black dress shirt he’s wearing, covered in dark tattoos. His wings are black like most demons – leathery and scaled, but they’re lined with a pretty blue like his eyes.
Did Gojo choose to be a demon, or was he born as one?
He hums just a bit, looking over at the man you all are assigned to.
“Hah, this will be just too easy, I almost feel bad that you won’t pass your assignment, Angel.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you say then, chin up just a bit. “I’ll pass.”
He grins at you. “Oh yeah? I like a little challenge, especially from a pretty little angel like you,” you blush furiously at that.
“I’ve heard you flirt as a tactic,” he gasps, hand to his chest.
“Me!? Never.”
“Mhm, won’t work on me,” you peer back at the blond man in the business suit now, smiling. “Can I go first?”
“Of course, Ladies first always,” Satoru inclines his head and watches as you morph into a ‘human’ form so that you could interact.
When you do his heart damn near stops, those memories of your human life together flooding, the many lives you all have shared together in fact – this was the first time you all didn’t end up in that loop once more. Yet in every lifetime, you always ended up recognizing him, including the most recent.
He’s glad you don’t remember dying, he really is, but to not remember him at all? To not feel anything, looking at him like he’s a stranger? He knew when he asked to be on this assignment that it would hurt, but how does Satoru not want to be near you in the afterlife too?
The Seraphs had expressly forbid him from helping you remember, you were an angel after all – the moment he found out you were in that realm with him, he’d destroyed the building the seraphim stayed in. They weren’t exactly happy with him, but no one fucked with Satoru Gojo – including Satan, God though?
God must just be doing this to fuck with him, he’s much crueler than Satan could ever hope to be.
In his human lives he was considered a god, it made sense he’d be extremely powerful in the heavenly realm, but for a moment he’s just a boy in love all over again, with that pretty girl he met one day in this very coffee shop. Even that doesn’t seem to jolt anything from you, either.
“What is it?” You ask curiously, he’s just studying you, he can’t even find the words to speak, his heart aching for you to know him once more. Yet to try to explain that to you? It would hurt your mind to try to get all those memories thrown right in your mind.
He could just touch your face and flood you with his own, that was an ability they all had – and his was finely tuned, much like his domain when he was a sorcerer, he could easily flood anyone’s mind and make them damn near still. Even heavenly beings had trouble handling it, though they would bounce right back, unlike humans.
Yet to send you just a bit of himself? One little memory? Your kisses, the first time he had you in his penthouse underneath him, pressing your hips into the bed? He’s throbbing just thinking of those memories – when he thought he’d never see you in this realm again, of course over years he has been with others sexually, but nothing came close to those human memories.
Even now he looks at that neck he’d bite, the collarbone he’d litter with all his kisses, pretty breasts rising and falling, making him ache to have them pressed against his chest once more. How could he handle not having you like he did before?
“Satoru, is something wrong?” He clears his throat and puts on a smile, playing the role of demon.
“You looked like this as a human?” He asks, keeping his tone husky, as if he didn’t know how the love of his lives looked.
“Um, yes, I didn’t change much like some of us do,” you’re nervous suddenly, Satoru is ethereally gorgeous, you have stayed human like. Not all glowy and insane looking like this demon. “Why?”
“You’re hot,” you blush again, looking down and then glaring. “What?”
“You’re flirting again!”
“Of course I am,” you roll your eyes, making him grin, leaning low with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “You like it.”
You as an angel, him a demon? It’s some cruel joke fate just loves to play on the two of you – always dying young together, never getting to just fucking grow old and have it easy. Satoru remembers every life vaguely too, not as vividly as the last one, but they’re little memories that meld into one.
You.
“Don’t you know the rules? Do you really…” you trail off now, flustered as vivid images of him flit your mind, this demon even makes your thoughts wicked! “With angels?”
“Angels, demons, humans,” he shrugs a shoulder and smirks. “I’ve fucked all of them.”
“Oh my god,” you’re blushing so furiously you have to touch your cheeks. “You’re just teasing me.”
“Nah I really have, but never an angel as sweet and cute as you, most are pretty ruthless.”
“I disagree,” you turn away from him, trying to gather your bearings a bit. “Can you explain our assignment?”
“Of course I can. Our assignment is a man named Nanami Kento, your task is to get him to choose a loving future over one of money,” Satoru tilts his head where there’s a girl in the coffee shop, and this Nanami is waiting in line. “My goal will be to tell him love is nonsense, and that he should make enough to retire young, and have all the wealth he wants.”
“Surely he’ll choose love? He looks like he really likes her,” Satoru chuckles at that, shaking his head at you.
“You’re so cute, Angel.”
“Pshh,” you flicker your wings, they’re invisible but he can still feel them smacking at him. “I’m pretty tough actually.”
“I’m scared, sweetheart,” Satoru morphs then to a ‘human’ form, which is just as freaking unworldly pretty as his demon one. You blink a bit, eyeing the white haired, tall man right in front of you. “Like what ya see?”
“You were a stupidly pretty human… if you were…”
“Yeah I was a human too,” he brushes his locks back, slipping on a pair of sunglasses he’s popped out of thin air. “My eyes get sensitive on earth.”
“Ah,” don’t fall for his demon charms! You’re an angel!
“Wanna place a little bet?”
“A bet?” He brushes your hair back off your shoulders, snowy lashes flickering down to your lips, they part under his gaze.
You don’t remember him at all, do you?
He’s so damn mad right now, every touch you've forgotten, every time he came home exhausted after a mission and you made sure to wash his back, to massage him down. Sucked his cock down your needy throat until he was whimpering for you – the strongest sorcerer in that timeline.
He's been a sorcerer in a few, in every one he has some sort of insane power, like it's his very curse, and you somehow always nullify it. Whether he was a demi God, a sorcerer, a vampire (yep, he somehow still ended up dying as an immortal) you weren't affected the way others were. As if you were built just for him.
“Yeah, a bet where you have to give me a kiss,” his words make your pretty eyes dilate, in every lifetime those stay the same, even if your features alter. Those eyes he's looked into for hundreds and hundreds of years.
“A kiss?” You get this dizzy sensation when Satoru is too close, like you've somehow been here before. Perhaps you came to this coffee shop once upon a time? “You w-want to kiss me if I lose?”
“Mhm,” he leans low, the sun is casting shadows across his cheeks from those round sunglasses, thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Haven't you kissed before, Angel?”
“Um… not in this form no,” you get flustered then, fidgeting a bit with your hands in front of you. “I'm sure I did as a human but I can't remember.”
“How long have you been an angel?” He asks then, brows lowering, still holding your chin in place.
“It's been five human years,” his heart sinks.
Have you been up there for…
As long as he has?
“At that academy?” He asks, his voice just a bit hoarse, of course there he wouldn't have been able to sense your energy. The school was highly protected and had a barrier around it, similar to his days as a student on earth. The thought that you were so close but so far tears him apart. “No angel caught your eye?”
“No,” you admit. That fills Satoru with far too much pleasure, he's nothing if not a jealous human and being a demon merely enhances all of those aspects, to imagine anyone having their hands on his angel, well Satoru would end up back in hell’s prison because he’d fucking kill them. “I’ve been so busy learning and training, I guess I’ve never thought of doing more in the afterlife.”
“Lots of angels and demons do,” he gently lifts your hair off your shoulders, letting his fingertips trace a face he’s known so well for hundreds of years, the one in his very dreams. “We won’t get in trouble for a kiss, but I wasn’t planning on telling anyone if you don’t.”
“All right, I’ll take the bet,” his lips quirk up in that smile, and you can’t help but imagine how they’d feel pressing all over your face, your body, wicked thoughts that are entirely unangelic! “What if I win?”
“You won’t.”
“Ugh! You’re a jerk!” You push his chest and he chuckles, but the moment you touch him you feel something, giving you pause. “Is that your power I’m feeling or…”
“Or what?” He asks quietly, holding your wrist, you swallow nervously and pull your arm back just a bit.
“It just felt really familiar,” you look at him again, was there some way you knew him as a human? “A kiss if you win, that’s all you want?”
“I’d like to pick where I kiss,” you’re blushing so brightly, the heat is emanating off your skin. “But I’ll let you pick if you win. How about that?”
“You get a kiss either way!”
“Yep,” you roll your eyes and sigh. “Is it a bet?”
“Sure, but if I win I may not let you kiss me,” you’re lying your ass off, you’d love to feel those pillowy lips upon yours.
“Sure, sweetheart, lemme see what you got.”
You walk into the coffee shop, the familiar aroma kicking in your senses, things you thought you had forgotten like a coffee before classes kick in now. You’d died in your early twenties, the day before your college graduation – you do know that, but not much else, but the nostalgia fills you when you stand behind the handsome man, who is peering at stock market graphs on his phone.
“Do you know the best drink to get?” You ask softly, the man turns around and smiles, tired hazel eyes seeming to be friendly and kind.
Surely this will be an easy one.
“I’m always getting the same thing,” he admits, shrugging a broad shoulder. “Americano.”
“Oh, I like something sweet maybe,” he nods a bit, peeking back at the girl from the counter. “She’s pretty.”
“She is – I mean!? She’s… I…” he clears his throat now, a faint blush slipping across sharp, hollowed cheeks. “You think so?”
“Very pretty, she seems so kind, like her energy?”
“Can you read energy?”
“I very much can,” you admit softly, moving as the line lessens, closer to the counter. “Hers is so lovely and serene.”
“What about mine?” He asks, lips twitching at the corners.
“Yours is a little hard to read,” you admit. “It’s very strong but also I see some turmoil, like you’re trying to find peace.”
“All right you scared me.” You laugh and shake your head. “Are you some sort of psychic?”
“Not at all, though I could see the two of you together,” you place a hand on his shoulder, using your own power now – yours is to calm anyone, and to have them see your own visions in their mind. It can be whatever you want. “Can’t you?”
You project an image of him on a beautiful beach with her, she’s in this cute bathing suit and they’re splashing all around, he seems utterly entranced, and for a moment you wonder if it could work.
That’s when Satoru cuts in line and stands right next to you, tugging your hand off his shoulder, you glare at him.
“Hey, Nanami, do you remember me?” He asks all brightly, as if he already knows the man, his hand on his shoulder now. “I was trading stocks with you.”
“Oh yes I think so,” your images of the girl are gone.
“They’re going up, it’s the perfect time to invest,” he grins all charming, you clear your throat and stand on his other side, hands behind your back, smiling all pretty up at the man.
“Yet I think that could wait, perhaps you should say hi to the pretty barista?”
“Baristas can wait,” Satoru chuckles, the sound deep and far too pleasing, his eyes glowing red for a moment when he looks at you – just for the briefest moment however. “Can’t they, Nanamin?”
“Uh…” He frowns and looks at the girl, who is giggling and looking up shyly, you watch a flush come on his cheeks once more, as he looks at you, then Satoru.
An angel and a devil on his broad shoulders.
“I suppose that’s true. I come here every day.”
“But today is so special! The energy,” you giggle and it’s like a little tinkling bell with your angelic form, it almost ruins Satoru himself, and leaves Nanami to contemplate, his brows drawing together. “Don’t you think?”
“It does feel like good energy,” the three of you walk up, Satoru resting an arm on his shoulders like they’re best friends.
“Ah, with the season coming up, it would be better to come to her with a fat stack of cash behind you, huh? Take her on the most extravagant date.”
“She doesn’t need all that,” you see Nanami start to rub his temples, wincing as you and Satoru scowl when he’s not looking. “She likes little thoughts and gestures, not extravagant shows.”
“What woman wouldn’t want a boat though?”
“Why would she need a boat!?”
He scowls at you. “Why wouldn’t she want a boat!?”
“Because she just thinks he’s hot as fuck,” Nanami clears his throat at your heated whispers, Satoru raises his brows now.
“Oh and do you?” You blush yourself now, covering your face and wanting to scream at this little shit.
“This is about her, not boats or if I find him hot! He is though,” Nanami blushes even brighter red. “Sorry, you are.”
“Wow, and I’m right here,” you narrow your eyes at his dramatic antics. “Don’t you think I’m hot?”
“In a conceited, pretentious way – you’re pretty.”
He gasps dramatically. “You little brat!”
“Um… I think I should go,” you both stop Nanami then, grabbing either side of his arms, trapping him there. “Do I know both of you?”
“Nanami, you really should ask for her number today,” you look over where you all are almost to the front, heart hammering in your chest. “It’s the perfect day.”
“I should…”
“But this stock is closing in twenty,” Satoru tugs him over to his side, grinning all charming again, he literally has fangs this bratty demon. “We can invite her to your boat, yeah?”
“What is it with boats!?” You hiss, but it’s too late, Nanami sighs, looking at you apologetically. “Nanami, you –”
“Thank you but I think I would like to focus on that first,” he smiles and disentangles your arm off him, patting your hand all friendly. “I don’t disagree that she’s very pretty, but I’ll be here again.”
You’re crushed later, rushing outside to cry in frustration, you failed the assignment and surely they would be furious with you over it! You’re hardly able to keep in how angry Satoru made you, normally such a calm angel, he made you want to act very demonic, especially when he walks up behind you, hands on your upper arms, his lips against your ear.
"Nice try, Angel," he murmurs.
“You’re being sarcastic!?” You look back at him, he shakes his head, suddenly very serious.
“I’m not, sweetheart, but you forgot one thing."
“F-forgot what?”
"Humans love money over almost anything,” you frown as you turn to watch him walk away from love through the cafe window. “Hey, it doesn’t mean he can’t find love later.”
“Yet he may have missed something special!” You spin around on him now, eyes glimmering with tears. “I know you’re a demon and things need balance, but what if she was his soulmate? His true love?”
Satoru can’t speak, not when he sees every aspect he’s ever loved about you right here – and in the forms where both of you can’t really be killed for once, where you all could have eternity together. The righteous, pretty little thing that you were standing now, looking up at him with her wings buzzing a million miles a minute, practically trembling with your temper.
“Hey, you tried really hard, I’m proud of you,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing across your jawline ever so carefully. “Yet it’s not his time to find love yet, he has more to accomplish first before he’s ready.”
“Life is so short, Satoru,” your lips tremble a bit now. “Look at me, I can’t even remember mine but I know I was young.”
He sighs and lets his fingers drop, taking your hand in his own. “Let me take you somewhere, it’s my favorite place on this planet.”
“Why would you show me that?”
“I just think it will calm you some,” you nod in agreement, he wraps an arm around your waist tightly. “I’ll transport us.”
“Not flying there?”
“No this is faster, just hold on,” you cling ever so tightly, arms wrapping around his neck, until you’re transported to the top of a beautiful mountain, snow flakes are falling but you don’t get cold as an Angel anymore. You still instinctively wrap your arms around yourself, looking at the pretty lights below, as snow falls along homes, roads and sidewalks, the street lights dusted with white powder.
“Oh it’s beautiful,” he lays his jacket right down on the ledge and gestures for you to sit next to him, you do just that, suddenly taking in the beauty of earth.
Heaven was breathtaking, but earth had its own charm, especially from this view. “This was a special place for me as a human.”
“It was?” You look up at him, suddenly realize how close he’s gotten, his breath puffing condensation as he speaks in little puffy clouds.
“It was very special, for me and the girl I loved,” he closes up a bit then, looking where your hands sit next to each other, slowly putting his over yours, blue eyes suddenly nothing like a demon.
Satoru looks like an angel.
“You remember your life before? I wish I did,” you admit now, moving just a little closer to him now. “She must have been so lucky to have your love, I can feel it radiating as you speak of her.”
“Yeah,” he laughs a bit without humor now, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I think I was the lucky one.”
“I can’t imagine having love like that,” you admit softly, hurting Satoru’s heart when you hold his hand carefully, delicately running your fingertips along the veins on his hand, the tattooed markings along them he got becoming a demon.
Satoru almost can’t speak, he instead puts on his charm and his lips quirk right up at you, tilting his head. “So you lost the bet, but I’ll let you pick – where I kiss you, or if I don’t.”
“You’ll let me decide?” you whisper, he nods, as your mind races, feeling his energy humming through your very veins. “I’d like a kiss on the lips, like I see others doing, like I think I remember doing?”
“I’ll kiss you anywhere you want, Angel.”
His words fucking ruin you, when he cups your face delicately, his nose brushing your own as he leans in, pressing a heated kiss on your mouth.
That’s when Satoru the demon overtakes you.
You’ve never felt this pressure in your core – as far as your memories can carry – the need white hot, your thighs press together when he pushes his lips against yours again, moaning softly into your mouth. His tongue slips inside and somehow you instinctively follow, hands finding purchase on his shoulders as his dark wings wrap both of you entirely.
You’re whining out, arching for his kisses, your breasts pressing against his chest, nipples tightening as he deepens the kiss, pulling back so you can catch a little breath.
“Where else should I kiss you, angel?” He asks, his eyes black with need, fire in their depths reflecting in his pupils, his hands grip your waist tightly, those wings leaving you both cocooned away from the world.
“My neck,” you say it like instinct, shutting your eyes then. “I said that.”
It was your weak spot, especially in Satoru’s vampire life, he can’t help but smile when his lips travel down, brushing a scorching hot path as his wings tug even tighter around you both. He bites on your neck, cock leaking milky drops that should be inside your body instead, huge hands sinking in either side as his mouth moves over your delicate skin.
“Mnh! Satoru…” You’re soaking wet from a few touches, damn near on his lap now beneath the darkness of his wings, he tugs you on a thigh and lets you straddle it, earning your gasp as you rock against him.
“I fucking missed you,” he says it before he can stop himself, you pull back and blink a bit, that spot on your neck already healing.
How would he leave marks on you like this?
“Did you know me?” You ask now, easing your hips so you brush against his thigh, he whimpers at the sensation, breath ghosting your swollen lips when he cups your face.
“Yeah angel, I knew you,” what a tiny way to say he came inside you and then fucked your cum back into your cunt with his fingers. That you sucked his cock in the back of a limo, and he buried his face against you on the kitchen counter when you baked him cookies.
He knew you all right.
“I wish I could remember,” your eyes get glossy, a tear falling, kissing him once more. “It feels so familiar, your presence, but I can’t-”
Suddenly a swirling vortex appears overhead, Satoru grimaces and tugs back, looking up at it and glaring. “Even as a fucking high ranking demon I have to answer to higher ups.”
“Oh my god I’ll be expelled! Or-”
“Shh,” he cups your face now, his wings releasing you as you come to stand, resting his forehead against yours for a brief moment. “I’ll protect the memory from anyone, trust me?”
Your hands come to his wrists, nodding. “I trust you.”
Satoru locks that memory right up and throws away the key, he’ll be damned if he lets anyone see you riding his thigh if they prod your mind. “There, it’s all sealed.”
“How do you do that?” you ask, the force of the vortex brushing your hair around your face.
“It’s one of my abilities,” he kisses you one more time, sighing. “You definitely knew me, but I can’t tell you how.”
“You can’t?”
“No,” he literally can’t, if he does something terrible would happen to you after signing that dumb fucking oath he can’t wait to burn.
*****
“We appreciate your efforts, but you did fail,” you stand before the council the next morning, your shoulders slumped, peeking over at Satoru the next day, his hands behind his back as he tilts his head.
Satoru had haunted your dreams last night – dreams no angel should ever have played in your mind over and over! Of his tail doing the most wicked things, his lips kissing every place he whispered about. You can’t shake that feeling, waking up soaking wet between your thighs for the first time in your Angelic form.
Satoru Gojo is a dangerous demon.
“Let her have one more assignment with me,” Satoru offers as you both stand there under that scrutiny, smiling all charming at everyone and making even the firmest angels melt. “It wasn’t fair to put anyone up against me, give her one more shot.”
“Are you standing up for an angel?” The dean says, raising a brow.
“She really tried hard, I will give her a bit of a head start this time, hmm?”
“All right, one more.”
“Oh thank you!” You’re fluttering your wings all excitedly, pretty smile on your face that melts Satoru’s heart.
“Your next assignment and test is a man named Suguru Geto, you have the choice to have him give into his darkness, or find the light,” the dean looks over at Gojo now. “Play fair, no cheating.”
“I’d never cheat! Demon’s honor,” he snorts as Satoru raises two fingers up, before he and you walk out of the room, you hug him tightly and he pauses.
To feel you in his arms again.
Satoru hugs you close to him, burying his face in your hair and inhaling, sighing at just how good you feel, how good your scent fills his nostrils, your wings brushing against his own. Yours – golden white feathers – his, that black and blue leather, everything about the two of you is a contrast.
Yet when you smile up all shy, your eyes darting to his lips, he can’t help but throb in need. “You can’t kiss me here, slutty little angel.”
“Excuse me!” You shove at him and he chuckles, fuck you’ve always been so damn cute ro rile up. “I wasn’t thinking of that!?”
“Sure you weren’t,” he brushes his lips on yours and feels you melt, pulling back before the two of you could be caught, sighing now. “The assignment is for a couple days on earth, we will be all alone.”
“What would you do alone with me?” You whisper, your lashes lowering, Satoru sighs and brushes his lips against your cheek, tail slipping up your dress, teasing you over your panties. You barely hold back a moan, hands clinging to his biceps, unable to stop the pull.
It’s like this devil is pulling you with his gravity, like you’re about to crash into him at any moment, and there’s nothing in heaven, hell or earth that could stop it – nor would you want to. You feel so right in his arms, in a way you can’t explain, how he holds you like this, how you feel his strength, his head.
“I’d do things that would make an angel like you blush,” he teases, lips pressed on your ear now. “Lick your pretty cunt that’s soaking wet.”
“Lick it? Ah!”
“Shh,” he chuckles, his tail pressing higher against your puffy lips, hands gripping your waist tightly. “Let you tug on my horns and fuck my face, then pump you full of my cum.”
“You’re wicked!”
“Demon, remember?” You giggle and bite your lip, lashes fluttering when his tail moves once more. “Let’s go before someone comes out.”
“Y-yes…”
You let Gojo lead you out, as you prepare for your assignment on earth – the second one, but you can’t stop the visions from flooding in your mind.
Satoru and you alone together.
*****
Under disguise as humans – fake ids and all – you and Satoru are alone in a fancy lovers’ suite, after studying your next human assignment. Satoru is of course supposed to convince him that power is more important than anything, you’re to convince him that love and friendship are what truly matters, the two of you observing him before you approach.
The first night alone with Satoru has you aching between your thighs, has you weak and shaky, the two of you were pretending to be a married couple so of course there was just one bed, with your wings it’s like there’s no damn room. He’s laying on his side, shirtless just staring at his phone when you set down your own, leaning over to put it on the nightstand.
You’re just in this little white slip, looking like the prettiest angel he’s ever laid his goddamn eyes on, when you clear your throat, propping your head up on a hand like he is, your other running up and down the sheets. His tail flicks up and down, eyes glowing bright blue when you murmur his name softly.
“Hmm?” You lean a little closer, a hand brushing against his bicep, tracing the little tattoo running across it. “You like the marks?”
“They’re pretty,” he chuckles a bit, and your eyes lock. “What?”
“You’re fucking pretty,” you blush so damn cute he aches, his tail wrapping around your thigh, making you gasp a bit. “Every inch of you.”
“How do you know?” You ask softly, biting down on the plush of your lower lip. “Were we intimate, Satoru?”
“You could say that,” his voice is hoarse, breaking in the middle when he sees your eyes dilate, his tail slipping underneath your slip and tickling the curve of your ass, watching your lips part with desire. “Very intimate, I enjoyed drinking you up.”
“Drinking…” You’re burying your face against his neck, in every lifetime you seem to be a little innocent sweetheart, it makes so much sense you’re an angel, Satoru is always some sort of slut till he remembers you exist.
The moment he gets that vision of you, no one exists, every time the memories flood in he knows he’ll do anything to have you. It’s like he doesn’t even know how he exists before you, they all become distant memories the moment you run into him, whether it’s literally smacking into his chest on a sidewalk, or in the coffee shop you all met last time, a bar after a breakup…
Any way he’s ever met you – once it was at a ball in the seventeen hundreds, and Satoru courted you and all, he was quite the rake so it was the talk of the ton. Before that he remembers stealing you from your noble little knight, and capturing you to bring you right on his ship – of course he was a pirate too.
Satoru’s always something crazy in his lives, you’re always a princess, a sweet girl, an angel. You’re the very thing that makes him complete, with her breath on his neck, making him ache – this time he did remember, but he thought you were never going to come, thought you’d live a long human life and reincarnate, Satoru never knew you were so close but so far.
“You are a wicked demon to make me feel so…”
He smirks. “Wet?”
“You’re the worst,” he chuckles and tilts your chin up, that slip tugged up over your hips, his tail just teasing your inner thighs, gathering the slick that’s already dribbled.
“Do you want me to make you feel good, pretty angel?” He whispers softly, leaning over you with his wings spreading out, you take a shaky breath as you feel his heavy weight over you, nodding and swallowing nervously.
“I want it,” he moans and kisses you again, so desperately you pause, pulling back for a breath, seeing his eyes glowing. “I feel so…”
“What, sweetheart?” He slips his fingers down your front, between your breasts, gripping one and pressing a kiss on the underside of your chin.
“At home,” he pauses and looks up at you, emotions rushing in his eyes, seeing the color tinge your cheeks. “That sounds so silly, please… I want more…”
“I’ll give you more, then,” he moans and kisses down your body, tugging a tit out and sucking on one, the peak in his hot mouth pebbling right up, his tail wrapping right around your thigh, tugging it up. “You want me to lick your pretty cunt?”
“Please,” his strength is far beyond yours, his hands shoving your thighs up, those long nails barely touching your skin, leaving little marks that fade the moment he puts them higher. “You sure, angel? Gonna let a demon touch you?”
Your hands go to his horns, making him whimper, his tail teasing your slit over your panties. “Didn’t you say I can hold these?”
“You sure fucking can,” Satoru moans when you arch your hips. “Put me where you want.”
You’re controlling the high ranking demon – Satoru Gojo – one of the most powerful creatures in heaven or hell, tugging him low until his breath ghosts where you’re most sensitive, his horns cool and smooth in your grip. He laps his long tongue right up it, gathering the juices that have spilled, your head falls back, wings fluttering underneath you.
“Mnh! Take em off, please,” you whisper desperately, he sighs and eases them down, cock rutting on the mattress, so needy he can’t take it.
“Fuck your pussy is just as pretty as it always is,” you blink a bit in confusion, but his mouth is on you in moments, and every thought is licked from you – his head buried against you. His tail wraps around to tease your nipples even as his tongue fucks your needy hole. “Mmm you’re so sweet, Angel.”
Your answer is to spread wider – there’s no hesitation like you thought, not when it feels so fucking right, him devouring you like he’s always known you. His tongue flattens on your clit as he moans, vibrating against your core, having you leak and drool right down his mouth, dripping down his chin as he slurps it right up. The sounds are obscene, mixing with your soft, angelic little cries.
This demon’s powers, overtaking you with his strength, how his dark wings spread and cast shadows across the two of you and the bed, casting against the wall his large form. Satoru’s almost seven feet tall in his demon form, where your angel is much smaller, the size difference alone steals your breath.
Demons were tall but not as tall as him, Satoru was just extra and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. You feel the difference even more with his huge hands wrapping you around the waist, his big body taking you over as his fingers touch that syrupy mess dripping down your slit, gathering it and pushing in. And fuck his fingers are long, so long they press your cervix.
“Ah! S-so deep…” You’re struggling to take just two fingers, he sighs against you, breath making you jump, his lips burning hot like a brand when they press a kiss on your hood again.
“You can take me,” he whispers, looking up under his thick fringe of white lashes, his fingers crooking against that spot in your tacky little walls, pushing up until you’re shattering. “That’s it, you’re made f’me.”
“M-made for… Satoru!” He groans and slurps at your clit, scissoring those fingers in and out so fast it’s utterly inhuman, you’re so goddamn wet they’re slipping, his sharp teeth come to bite your clit teasingly. “Ah! F-fuck…”
“An angel cussing,” he laughs softly, licking his teeth with that long tongue, before flicking it on your clit like an apology. “Tsk, what would heaven say?”
“They’d be m-more concerned about a demon licking me,” he snorts and you can’t help but giggle, turning into a broken moan when he uses those long fingers and his tongue swirls your clit, making you jolt and cry out.
“That’s it,” he whispers, cock throbbing so badly he could cum from sipping that flavor that’s coated his tongue for centuries. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.”
There’s no option not to, not when his long fingers curve up and hit your sweet spot, and you’re spasming, gushing, tugging his horns even harder as his free hand presses on your tummy, making the pressure unbearable. You’re spasming around those fingers, body lit on every nerve ending like you’re floating – even better than flying, this feeling.
You’re dizzy, like you’re not tethered to anything when he presses another kiss and looks up at you. “So beautiful cumming for me.”
That’s when it hits.
When you look at him and he’s leaning up, fingers rocking in and out of your cunt, and your hands grip his biceps, he pauses when he sees your wide eyes, as everything starts swirling, morphing into one Satoru Gojo. Always those baby blue eyes, always the ones that look at you with utter devotion, even when he’s irritated, or when you argued.
Arrogant and conceited in every timeline, too fucking powerful – he’s always the yin to your yang, you’re soft and sweet and he’s cold and ruthless on the exterior, but with you? He was sweet, silly, hilarious and loving.
Your Satoru, how could you not remember for so long?
“What is it, Angel?”
“Toru…” He pauses at that name, his fingers slip out gently, leaving you empty – tears slipping from his eyes and dripping crimson against your white slip, soaking the fabric and staining it with those bloody tears.
“You remember?” He asks softly, cupping your face with his clean hand, the other gripping your thigh, tugging it around his hip.
You remember a sorcerer, remember his power and what happened to him, then what happened to you after, your tears slipping down your cheeks, sniffling as he kisses your brow, your nose.
“Oh Toru you… I can’t believe I didn’t… five years…”
“It’s all right,” he whispers, looking down at you now. “I didn’t even know you were in heaven, they fucking kept you from me.”
“Why?” He shakes his head, resting it on yours and swallowing his emotions, your tears glitter like pretty diamonds, his like dark garnet, mixing together as you both hold each other tightly, breaths mingling together, hearts racing.
“I keep asking myself why,” he whispers, kissing you desperately, you fall apart underneath him. “Mmm, why can’t I fucking have you? Grow old and have babies with you?”
“Oh,” you’re emotional, your energy humming and radiating from your skin so bright, a contrast to Satoru’s darkness, kissing him again, this time with that familiarity that had been driving you insane. “I wanted that too, I wanted it.”
“Me to fill you with babies, pretty angel?” He whispers all husky, tugging down his pants and lining his cock up with your entrance, you’re already quivering around nothing, waiting to be full – that familiar fullness your entire soul memorizes that sensation.
“It’s insane now, w-we can’t…”
He cuts you off softly. “We can do anything you fucking want, we can’t die again baby,” he tugs your slip down, exhaling and looking at your pretty nipple, capturing it with his mouth. “I’d burn down any timeline for you.”
“I don’t w-want you to have to burn it all, I just… Toru in me, please,” you beg now, as he slips his tip up and down your needy slit, feeling her all greedy trying to suck him in.
“You forget you’re always innocent,” he teases, nose brushing yours, his eyes lidded as he eases his tip inside, watching your lips part with your gasp. “Angelic I would say.”
“And you’re slutty, demon,” you scowl and he laughs softly, shaking his head. “Couldn’t wait for me to come into existence, hmm?”
“I will make it all up to you, pretty, slutty little angel,” he shoves his cock deep inside, he’s even bigger like this, his cock stretching you out so much it’s hard to take. He’s groaning as you clamp down on him, his tail teasing your nipple, hands enwrapping your hips and dragging you down. “Fuck, feel her grip me, baby…”
He leans back and shoves your slip up higher with his tail, looking at the bulge as he moves in and out – his cock print right on your tummy. “Toru!”
“You’re so full, aren’t you?” His eyes glow so bright they’re hard to look at, fingers digging into your hips brutally, but you can take it – he’s never been able to really go rough with you, but your body is much stronger. “You were made to take me.”
“Please,” you murmur, lips trembling. “Move, please.”
“Anything for you,” he starts to ease his cock in and out of your slick cunt, watching it drip down his ten inches, of course it doesn’t all fit inside, but watching your puffy folds try to take him has him groaning desperately, your eyes fluttering shut. "Ah - ah, look at me."
You force your eyes open, meeting his burning gaze, lips parting in a ragged little gasp as he starts to move faster, shoving your thighs up, his arms resting right on the backs of them. “S-so much… pressure, nghh!”
"You can take me angel,” he whispers, wings covering the two of you carefully, enshrouding you in the darkness so the only light was his eyes, that glow even brighter with every stroke. “I want to see you fall apart for me."
His tail, which had been teasing your nipple, now snakes lower, the pointed tip circling your clit and flicking right against it, Satoru already knows every weak spot, every sensitive part of your body, things you don’t know or remember. He’s fucking into you as he circles your clit, pulling back to study you in the soft lights of the suite.
“You’re close,” he murmurs, watching your every expression as he tries not to bust fast – his sweet angel better cum at least three times before he does. “Let go for me, lemme feel you soak my cock."
Your nails press into his tattooed biceps, those markings lit up as he moans and sucks in a breath, feeling you spasm around him – your climax rushes through your body even harder than from his tongue. You’re drooling, babbling nonsense, eyes rolled back in your skull, as if being an angel enhances how sex felt before – and Satoru had always been able to fuck you dumb.
Yet he’s so fucking big like this, his cock has inches not inside you, so thick you’re split apart on him, his heavy weight ruining you. He’s whispering your last name – the one you forgot, mumbled and mixed with angel, pretty, sweetheart, his rhythm maddening as his tail flicks away.
Satoru laps your glittery slick right off it in the sluttiest little action, grinning down at you with those fangs of his, kissing you and using his tail to tug your body further down him.
“Wanna watch you ride me, baby, fuck… please?”
You flush and nod, he switches your positions so quickly you’re dizzy, rising and lowering yourself on his cock, your white and gold tipped wings extending. He moans at the sight of his angel, his huge hands snaking up to brush right between them, trailing up your spine and making you moan, gushing impossibly more down him.
"Fuck, yes… just like that… milk me, hah - doin’ s’good,” you giggle breathless and he narrows his pretty eyes. “You’re laughing? Should I make you take it all?”
“N-no, ah!” Satoru tugs you down until he bottoms out, bruising your cervix, your wings close up and flutter, cunt drooling as she tries to take as much as she can. “I was just remembering – you talk a lot during sex. And you whimper.”
“You brat,” you’re grinning all pretty and angelic, Satoru sighs now, leaning up on his elbows, his wings flaring wide, as he buries himself as deep as he can go, kissing your throat then looking at himself in your tummy, whimpering. “F-fine, yes I do… but it’s always your fault.”
“I love it,” you whisper, affectionately as you cup his face, tears spilling from your eyes even as you’re about to be flooded with him. “I love you.”
He pauses and then loses it, sucking on your tit and ripping your slip to shreds, moving you up and down him faster, an inhuman pace that you would not be able to take as a human. You’re barely clinging to him as he rocks into you, whining out when he starts pulsing, ready to fill you up, lost in everything about you.
“You still love me, baby?” He whispers, looking up at you with devotion in his eyes, you nod quickly, swallowing down your emotions.
“I love you, please… inside…” He groans and you feel him swell inside you, his pretty whines escaping those plump lips, his tail wrapping your waist as his wings spread wide and then circle your body.
“Gonna put so much inside you, angel,” he whispers, kissing you desperately – a hot, thick flood of white coating you as he spills himself into your needy hole. “That’s it, takin’ it all f’me… angel…”
“S-so much…” You’re gushing him down, a mess of white and gossamer on his pretty, veiny cock, he eases you off and flips you back, hovering over you and slipping his tail to scoop the mess you’re spilling. “Toru that tail i-is… diabolical…”
“Imma demon, sweetheart,” he grins all bright, breathless as his tail slips that cum right back inside you, snug in your fucked out cunt. You gasp at it, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “I need it to stay inside, we’ll have our own little army – little hybrids.”
“Crazy,” you shake your head, but you’re too far gone, when he’s already hard and ready again.
“I am,” he admits softly, kissing you deeply, then grinning. “Wanna fuck in the air?”
“In the air!”
“I wanna fuck you on every inch of heaven, hell and earth,” he whispers, batshit insane as he slips his fingers down your hips, looking at your body lovingly. “Cum drippin’ all over every inch.”
You had forgotten just how insane the love of your life was.
*****
The next day
Before you all can even finish the assignment the next day, you both were having a cute little competition and bet, giggling and forgetting for a moment all the reasons this can’t work – when a vortex is summoned, making you both tense as it all crashes down. Tears already prick your eyes, sniffling as Satoru picks you up in his arms, sighing and looking up at it.
“Toru, I’m scared…” You whispered right before it sucked you both in, he had cupped your face then, shaking his head.
“I’ll never let you go again.”
He promised that before.
It echoes in his mind when they immediately have shackles ready for you once you’re back up in heaven – golden ones that’ll sap your power, Satoru’s helpless as they chain him right up with you. Your eyes are terrified, and Satoru’s heart is ripped into pieces, both of you thrown in the same cellar and told you’re to ‘face a trial’.
There are no fair ‘trials’ in heaven when it comes to angels and demons, especially for Satoru.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs that night, the cell is dark and fucking horrible, and the bars have blocked any magic or abilities. He’s holding you close when you bury your head against his neck. “Shh, I’m here.”
“It was worth it to be with you again,” your words break his soul, as he tugs you even closer to him, your tears hot against his neck. Satoru swallows and covers you up with his wings as you shiver, trying to comfort you. “I don’t know why they always take you from me.”
“Angel…” He swallows his emotions as you break down, your energy crackling and radiating to the point of pain as he feels it.
“I don’t know why, and I can never take it when you go,” you look up at him with a tear streaked face now. “I always die right after you because I can’t live when you go.”
“Sweetheart, I…” He doesn’t know what to say, brushing your hair back as his tears threaten to spill.
You do always die right after, and he never knows from what.
“A broken heart,” you answer softly. “I can’t eat or sleep when you go, I know you’d want me to live but maybe I’m selfish, too.”
He sighs and swallows. “That’s because without you there is no me, either,” he answers quietly. “I’d do the fucking same. But it won’t come to that, it’s different this time.”
“I just got you back,” you whisper, breaths rising and falling as he holds you close to him, those chains making it difficult to move as they dig into your wrists but you both still manage. “Only a day of remembering.”
“I’ll fix this. Do you trust me?” He asks, and you implicitly nod. “Then get some rest, who knows how long it’ll be before I can see someone.”
“Okay Toru,” you snuggle in his arms and fall into a fitful little slumber, but Satoru stays awake.
He’s not going to let this stand after everything he’s been through.
He lays you down quietly later that night when he leans forward on those bars, working his charm on the guard, even without his powers – Satoru is disarming. “Hey, how about I grant you one wish, and you let me just have a word with the seraphs?”
“A wish? Nah… I…”
“Bet you’d love to hook up with that pretty angel from your class, hmm?” Satoru grins and his eyes flash ruby. “I could make her fall in love with you.”
*****
“What on heaven are you doing out!?” The head archangels stand in formation when Satoru comes flying through their damn roof – he’s always had a bit of a flair for dramatics, but also fuck them.
“I came for my fucking ‘trial’.” He flies across to where they sit at their big fancy tables, the sky is already storming, rain is starting to fill the once immaculate building, he smirks at the fear on even the most powerful members of heaven’s faces.
“Seize him at once-”
“Let him speak,” the tallest archangel – well over ten foot comes over, Satoru’s always found them pretty fucking creepy if he’s being honest. All those damn eyes all over their body, feathers on their faces, they’re imposing even to a tall demon like him, but he walks forward, the chains still binding him. “This is about your lover.”
“She’s more than my lover, she’s my fucking soulmate,” he scoffs now, coming closer until he’s looking up at the massive archangel who will help decide his judgement.
“We know you all are fated, but your union cannot be. It will lead to all sorts of issues for Heaven, Hell and Earth.”
“I’ll burn down Heaven, Hell and fucking Earth for her,” Satoru says, the sheer force of his energy making everything in the enormous building shake and tremble, dust from the plaster falling over the imposing archangels heads, more rain pouring from the gray clouds. “Think I care!?”
“That’s the problem, in every lifetime your love leads to destruction,” the archangel approaches Satoru now, he laughs and tugs the golden chains meant to control his power like it’s nothing, immediately freeing his wrists. “That’s the reason you keep losing her.”
“I will not fucking lose her again,” his tears slip from his eyes now, heart hammering in his chest as he thinks of his pretty angel locked up because of him. “Just let us fucking be happy, god for once stop this. I will bring destruction to everything if I don’t get to have her.”
“Say we let you,” Satoru’s hands are around his neck, squeezing the archangel with ease, the others move to help but he holds up a hand. “She’s an angel, you’re a demon – we didn’t choose that, you two did.”
“Then I’ll make it to where what you are doesn’t matter, I’ll make it where angels and demons can fuck if they want, have babies if they want.”
“The precedent of this was-”
“I don’t care what tales you spin of what came before,” Satoru squeezes even harder, one more ounce of pressure and he’d kill this archangel with ease, he remains eerily calm. “She is mine. I will take her far away if that’s what you need, but she’s all mine and I won’t be without her.”
“Let go, son,” Satoru scoffs at the name, letting him go. “I’ll convene with God for a moment.”
“God caused all this, I’d love to fucking talk to him,” he steps back then, the others approach but halt as the head archangel holds up his hand.
“Your love is clear and pure, even if you’re a sinful devil,” Satoru smirks just a bit, and he closes his eyes, palm still raised.
It’s quiet in the room, for a long moment, when finally he opens his eyes, calm and serene, looking at Satoru carefully. “Well what did the big, scary sky man say?”
His lips twitch in a little bit of humor now. “You both can have immortal lives, and you can try to change heaven's hierarchy. Who is god to punish his children, even the demonic ones?”
“Fuck,” he exhales, his eyes shutting now. “Please get my Angel out of that shitty prison.”
“Satoru,” he says, earning fierce blue eyes. “If you both bring on destruction, just remember we tried to stop it.”
“I just want to fuck and kiss my goddamn girlfriend,” every angel gasps, Satoru just rolls his eyes. “I just want to be with her, whatever destruction shit you’re speaking of – I guess I’ll figure it out. Are we free from this cycle?”
“There are no more reincarnations for either of you,” he steps back now, gesturing to one of the seraphs. “Can you make the order to let her out?”
*****
“Satoru!” You’re jumping in his arms when he greets you, trembling from being chained up, he brushes those marks smoothly with his touches, his wings wrapping around the two of you.
“Angel,” he whispers, feeling your warmth against his skin, the scent that he can’t ever get out of his mind in any life filling his senses. “So how do you feel about a trip down to hell?”
“Hell!” You gasp and he chuckles now, tilting his head, his horns glinting from the light.
“I have approval to be with you down there if I help run things – Lucifer isn’t keen on taking Satan’s position just yet. We can be here too but the judgement would be much worse than down there.”
You grin then, your little wings fluttering gold, skin taking on this glowy sheen. “Can we still visit here? And Earth?”
“We can do whatever the fuck you want,” he kisses your lips, right in front of the onlooking angels and seraphs. “Don’t you know I alone in heaven and earth am the honored one?”
“You’re conceited in every lifetime,” he pauses at that, lips parted, watching as your eyes get glassy. “Satoru Gojo, I’d choose you a million times over, even if it meant dying young, if it meant short lives. I’d never choose differently.”
“Even if I couldn’t give you an old, happy life? Kids?” He’s crying too, crimson drops as thick as blood, you swipe it off his perfect cheeks, feeling his tail wrap around you tightly.
“I would always choose you,” he kisses you, holding you so tightly you think you might break from the force.
“Come with me,” he shoots you both up into the air with his huge wings in the sky, the rush of wind brushing cool against your skin, you welcome it eagerly after the suffocating confinement of the celestial prison. Heaven shrinks below you into just puffy clouds, islands scattered.
“It’s so beautiful, but…” you drift off, and he understands without you saying – heaven was a gilded cage, your cycles of constant reincarnation were a prison.
For once you feel so free, with his strong arms around you, his eyes glowing red around those blue irises, as you are floating in the air with him. “I’m bringing you to my home.”
“In hell?” You tease, he grins. “All right, take me there.”
“Hold on to me,” you do just that, burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent that is so achingly familiar you can’t believe you couldn’t place it before. In moments he’s got you in a decadent room, Hell is not burning hot like you thought though it’s warmer, brighter than heaven. “Are you dizzy?”
“Just a bit,” you admit, looking at his bed and biting your lower lip, in moments your clothes are gone, just your wings wrapping your body slightly, as Satoru kisses your neck, and you tug at his horns.
“Oh fuck,” he groans and eagerly pulls his cock out, lifting your hips so you’re suspended in the air, his tip slipping against your slick entrance. “I’m gonna put so many fucking babies inside you, have half demons, huh? Half angels hah – carry so many won’t you?”
“Please do it,” uncaring of whatever fucking consequence it was, you cling to his horns and arch your back, his tail wraps your thigh and flicks your clit, as his cock sinks inside, bulging your tummy. “Put em in me – Mnh! Toru…”
He pauses as you call him that nickname, the one you always have found for him, he tilts your head for a moment, his huge hand bigger than your entire face, thumb brushing your cheek. “You always call me that, angel, I wonder why?”
“Y-you always call me angel,” he smirks at that, kissing your lips and shoving his cock in deep again, your hands tighten as you arch for more, letting him hold you suspended with his cock buried deep. “Did you just know?”
“Maybe I did know,” he moans and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, opening and going from ruby back to bright blue, wings enshrouding your own much smaller ones, that tail toying with your twitchy clit till you’re about to break. “I’m never fucking letting you go again, Angel. I need to make up for so much time.”
“H-how are we making it – ah – up?” He chuckles at how cute you are, your thighs trembling, slick dripping down onto the floor as he moves his huge, veiny cock inside you.
“By pumping my angel full of cum every day,” you whimper at that, Satoru grins devilishly against your neck, letting you tug his horns as his tip kisses your puffy cervix. “I don’t fucking care if we destroy it all, I just want you.”
“Then take me,” Satoru moans and gives you all of him – whispering filthy things in your angelic ears, of the way he plans to put babies in you, how he wants to take over heaven and hell so your kids can rule both – powerful, insane strokes of his cock and husky, devilish words.
You’re Satoru Gojo’s angel, and he’s not letting you go ever again.
i loved this SO MUCH my heart was breaking and I was crying ahhh - I hope you all enjoyed <3
Patreon for more exclusive fics <3 comms closed for the moment!
firefighter!bakugou katsuki x romance publisher!reader
SYNOPSIS: bakugou katsuki decides to visit you this time on his break from the fire station. OR bakugou uses tupperware as an excuse to see you
WARNINGS: 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), making out, sex while on the phone, nervous bkg, horny reader, bakugou obsessed (very much reciprocated), little bit of jealousy from him
NOTES: this can be read as a standalone but will make more sense if you read this drabble! (though i changed a few details… take this as canon) i am in my moment of giving everything part 2s despite how much i hate those comments lol another self indulgent piece of writing.
“yn you have a visitor coming up!”
you frown, pulling up your calendar on your second monitor. you’re supposed to be free for the rest of the day to catch up on emails and admin. “i have no meetings for the rest of the day?”
you can hear your assistant grinning on the other side of the phone, “oh i know! but thank me later.”
you stare at your phone, your home screen shining back at you. she just hung up on you after disrupting your afternoon?
you’re just about to dial back, ask her what the hell is going on when there’s two knocks on your door before it’s opening.
oh. oh.
“i didn’t know you were the big boss?”
your mouth goes dry, scanning the man from top to bottom. he’s wearing these forest green cargos, this time with silver reflective tape at the bottom, suspenders clipped onto them with a skin tight black t-shirt on top.
it’s katsuki, the firefighter from a few days ago that got your number, kissed and rejected you after you asked to give him head. though it was a good rejection since he said he wanted to give you head first and take you out on a date.
he lets himself into your office, staring at the book shelves you have behind you filled with colourful book spines, special editions and editor versions. pink is the overriding colour here, being in the romance sector and all.
you should be mad he just barged in, didn’t greet you and he’s already taking up space. he makes your furniture look like it belongs in a dollhouse and even though he’s a few metres away from your desk, it feels as if he’s under your nose, analysing your whole career.
yet, you eye his forearms, the veins that run up them, the chunky biceps that look constrained in his tee. the silver dog tag that rests between his pectorals and the black radio he’s got clipped to his pocket.
when his ruby eyes land on you they’re alight with interest though he doesn’t smile. instead, he seems curious standing in the middle of the room.
“i’m not the big boss, i have a manager too. just head editor,” you reply, feeling the urge to look in the mirror to check you look good. no fly ways or a crumb on your face and your blouse is on straight.
“you’ve got an assistant and a big ass office with windows,” he walks over to them, peering at the city below. “i’d say that’s pretty important.”
you bite down on your lip, endeared. then your body fires up. last time you spoke… what he said. i’ll eat your pussy, fuck you good too. oh shit.
“i’ve been in the company for a while, i had to fight for it.”
he nods at you, clearly impressed as you lean back on your leather chair behind your two pink monitors.
“i came to give back the tupperware from the cupcakes. they were damn good.”
you didn’t even realise the paper bag he’s holding. he plops it on the chair in front of your desk. he did say he would return them.
“thanks… you didn’t have to, i would have came by to get it.”
“no it’s fine. didn’t have fuck else to do in my break.”
everything feels heated, charged and suddenly you can’t remember all the points on your to do list. it’s a second too long of silence, staring at this man as he stares over at you. his lips are pouted like he’s about to whistle but then he relaxes when he stares at your lips.
you clear your throat, offer him the chair opposite your desk. he drops into it and you’re immediately overwhelmed at how he swallows it. fills it up completely, slouching slightly so his thick thighs have space to spread. he rests both arms on the rests, opting to look around your office again instead of your face.
your heart booms against your rib cage, you pretend to click something on your monitor to distract the fact your hands are sweaty.
“i can leave if you’re busy. i was gonna just leave them behind the front desk downstairs but the woman insisted i give them to you myself.”
you internally roll your eyes. okay, you can’t keep your own secrets and you told pretty much everyone you saw that you found the blonde firefighter who came over attractive. it’s your own fault.
“no!” then you clear your throat, “no, you can stay. sorry about them.”
bakugou has no clue what he’s doing here. he’s out of his depth. he’s used to his fire station and his men, stomping around with their rough humour and running whenever there’s an alert of danger nearby. he definitely isn’t used to being in a calm, colourful office sitting opposite a gorgeous woman. he can barely keep eye contact and equally can’t stop looking at you.
a few people walk past your windows looking out to the corridor, two ladies talking among themselves with books in their hands.
he can’t tell if you’re nervous but you keep biting down on your lip, looking at your computer screen and then back at him. he needs to say something, anything.
“did you bake those cakes?”
you smile, cheeks round, “yes! i enjoy baking when i have free time.”
he can’t stop himself, “a reader and a baker. i fuckin’ love that.”
your lips part, breath shaky and he sits up in the cream chair.
“i like to cook,” he blurts, “i… i cook for the guys sometimes. we have a kitchen at the station.”
“really? what’s your usual?” you rest your head on your palm, tilting your head. he could ask you to get down on your knees and you’d do it. especially with those suspenders running down his hard chest.
you notice the blush on his cheeks, “usually meals my ma would make back home, since they’re massive and can feed the family. stews, soups, noodles, you know,”
“you should bring me some. i usually just get sandwiches or pastas from down the road,” you flirt, “yours sounds tasty.”
he feels like a dog with the one aim to make his owner happy. “definitely. it’s only a twenty minute walk.”
“okay, i’ll be looking forward to it.”
he meant what he said when he texted you last, “when are you free for me to take you out? if you’re still up for it. it’s okay if not.”
katsuki cringes inwardly and then again when you start clicking around on your computer as if you’ve ignored him.
“sorry, have to check my calendar….,” you remember the text he sent you, that he wants to take you out before he does anything to you. your body feels like it’s on overdrive, overheating, overthinking and just needy. “friday evening?”
bakugou’s got no clue if he’s free then but he nods anyway. “yeah, yes. i’ll set somethin’ up.”
it feels as if he’d taken up too much of your time, so he stands up, dusting off his trousers. but not without asking, “what did y’mean when you said it felt like your last birthday? y’know, the day we came here for the false alarm.”
one of the interns accidentally hit the fire alarm in the staff kitchen, causing panic, sirens and an immediate call to the local fire station. everyone was dashing down the stairs to get outside but when have fire alarms ever been genuine? usually it was a drill or an accident so you took your time, saving your documents on your desktop and grabbing your bag while the alarm blurted in your ear drums.
you were last to make it out and immediately you were starstruck by the line up of firefighters outside your building. all five of them were chunky, muscled and gorgeous. it wasn’t just you that had hearts in your eyes, it was your colleagues too, flirting and talking to them like they were saved from a fire that didn’t even happen. you find your assistant and nudge her, “that one. i want him.”
the blonde looked mad, a frown planted on his face, the beige jacket with yellow hi vis only made him look larger. he’s got his helmet in one hand and he’s staring at his watch. he opted to not talk to the bustling groups of women, just standing by the door of the truck waiting to leave.
you took it upon yourself to walk over to him, a few of your colleagues following behind you.
“this reminds me of my last birthday.”
you say to your friends with a giggle and the purpose for him to hear. he only reacts with a raised brow but otherwise reactionless. until your friend says something to you and you feel his eyes scan you from top to bottom, eying your id badge hanging around your neck. you read his name on his jacket. bakugou.
you give him your signature flirtatious grin. pearly whites with shiny lips. cheeks soft and eyelashes fluttering. the man blushes, cheeks flushed red and you can swear his next breath comes out shaky.
“you… you shouldn’t assume the alarms are drills. could get yourself killed,” he grits his teeth at you but he feels like he’s already lost.
“it was a false alarm, so i didn’t die this time,” you fold your arms across your chest, stepping over to him, “how did you know i assumed that?”
bakugou feels like he’s about to choke and die. you smell good. floral yet sweet. a delicious musk that has him wondering how your ass looks in that short black skirt you’ve got on.
“you’re the only one here with a bag. you also came down twenty minutes after everyone else,” he grunts, “in other words, you would have died.”
you pout, “don’t put yourself down, you would have saved me in time. you need to prepare for people like me…,” you read his name on his jacket again, “bakugou.”
he exhales through his nose, “or you can listen to the alarms like everyone else, yn.”
you roll your eyes, your smile not letting up while this firefighter named bakugou looks like he’s about to explode.
kirishima walks over patting him on the back, “i checked their internals, everything’s fine. i’ll be back to replace the glass cover for their alarm.”
bakugou gives you one look before getting back into the truck and assumes he will never see you again. until you turn up a few days later at the station.
you laugh at katsuki, “now you want to know? it looked like you were about to spank me for coming down late.”
you notice his eyes darken and his hand adjusts his belt buckle, “i meant what i said then.”
you’ve got the same flirtatious smile as before and bakugou needs to grow some fucking balls if he’s going to handle you. take you out on dates and fuck you like he promised.
“okay, mr firefighter,” and bakugou rubs his top lip under his septum just for a semblance of control, “my last birthday, my friends got me firefighters. they were dressed like you but there was no fire.”
part of him thought there was a possibility of a fire on your birthday, the other seventy percent assumed right.
bakugou huffs a strained laugh, rubbing his eyes, you’re back clicking something on the computer then back focused on him.
“you’re into that?”
“i’m into you. the uniform is a plus.”
he knows this, you asked to suck him off last time you were together. but still it doesn’t feel true, a woman like you, successful, beautiful and confident, into him? he can’t look at you without counting to ten in his head to regulate his breathing.
“i’ve got half an hour before i’ve gotta go back.” he grunts, leaning forward on his elbows. “d’you think you can listen to me for that long?”
heat swells in your lower stomach. you feel like jumping up and down to chant yes yes yes.
you narrow your eyes at him, “possibly.”
he points to the corner of your office where the windows to the corridor wouldn’t be able to see. only two people have walked by so far but more could. bakugou can’t have anyone see what he’s about to do to you.
“could you stand there for me? be a good girl?”
bakugou thinks he understands you. what you like, what you want, just from your small interaction at the fire station. how confident you are when he’s nervous over you, compared to how shy you get when he’s in control.
he hears you inhale sharply, looking behind you at the corner of the room and then him. wide shoulders, the dog tag necklace swinging at his neck as he leans. you’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, there’s no way you haven’t.
“what will you do to me?”
his grin is slow as he stands. that fucking gold tooth, “come find out.”
you're out of your chair because what you’re not going to do is ignore this man who promised he will pleasure you. you’re not going to fuck in your office… unless, you shouldn’t but if he asks—
you press your back against the wall and he crowds you, both forearms by your head. his breath is hot on your face, craning your neck up to look at him.
“fuck me—,”
“oh my god, baby,” he hushes you, grabbing your jaw. he’s about to go insane, beat down all his morals just to give you want you want, “who’s left you so needy? always askin’ for my cock?”
you frown up at him, eyes defiant and sharp even though he’s squeezing your cheeks between your fingers. you fight back your whine at baby. you love hearing that come out his mouth. “nobody’s left me? i just…”
the annoyance wins over your arousal, about to push him off you but he grabs both your wrists with one hand, “i didn’t fuckin’ mean it like that. you just drive me crazy, so goddamn… sayin’ whatever is on your mind. whenever it’s silent i hear your voice.”
you’re still not a fan of what he said, “saying what?”
“that you want to suck me off. can’t get in the back of a truck without gettin’ hard.”
he entertains you by pressing into your stomach, large and long. you feel like squealing, unbuckling his belt and taking it in your hand.
“that’s what you deserve. after you said no to me then too.”
“i’m not fuckin’ you until after one date. i’ve got morals—,”
you poke his shoulder, “and you’re saying i don’t?”
he groans aloud, “no, baby.”
nothing he says is coming out right, so he decides to start kissing your jaw, pecks that make you stretch your neck and your eyes flutter shut.
“wanna treat you right. learn shit about you before i fuck you,” he whispers, “it’ll be worth it.”
that almost makes your knees buckle, so you’re grateful he’s holding your hips to keep you against the wall.
“i’m never asking you for anything again,” you murmur, hands drifting to rake through his hair. “saying no to me twice.”
you sound flabbergasted, almost laughing at yourself.
“last time i’m ever sayin’ no to you, baby. after friday, you’re gettin’ anythin’ you want from me.”
he’s wrapped around your finger, you both know it.
“anything?” you tug one of his suspenders and katsuki practically growls at you. you’re too perfect, his idea of heaven.
“yes. fuck, let me touch you,” he kisses your lips, slides his tongue into your mouth and moans. it’s a good kiss, you won’t deny that, better than the last one you had in the truck. he bites down on your lip before tucking his face back into yours, sucking your tongue.
a calloused palm lands on your thigh, a finger running along the hem of your skirt, “lemme touch you. have you come on my fingers, baby.”
you want to deny him like he denied you all this time, but you know it would feel good, especially with how he’s staring at you like he can’t imagine anything better.
“i—,”
your work phone vibrates on your desk, it’s your assistant downstairs. “i need to take it.”
as soon as you grab the device, accepting the call, bakugou’s got you back against the wall, his face in your neck, undoing two buttons on your blouse so he can kiss over your chest.
“hey yn! just wanted to ask if you wanted the delivery to go in your office for the meantime. it’s the special editions of that sports romance?”
you need to push him off you, shove this firefighter out and away so you can get back to work.
“yn?”
bakugou looks at you, lips slick with spit, laughing at you slightly. he mouths, “answer her.”
“y-yes sorry. reading something. keep them downstairs, i’ll get them later.”
when bakugou decides to strike, your mouth gapes open when the man gets on his knees, his fingers crawling up your skirt to grab the top of your tights. your eyes widen, you need to push him away.
“are you sure? the delivery men can bring them up, they’re quite heavy?”
he’s about to— fuck. he kisses over your clothes tights, slowly dragging your tights down over your ass. he looks up at you and smirks. you cover his face with your hand to protect your sanity.
“n-no it’s fine, i’ll get them after.”
he only kisses your palm, his hand coming to rub your heat between your legs. he rubs the fabric of your panties and you feel him hum in delight.
“okay, i’ll let them know? how was the firefighter? he was the one you liked when they came over, right? or was it the red headed one—
bakugou drags your hand off his face then, frowning with his lips unimpressed.
“i’ll tell you later. i’m going now.” you blurt.
“wait, is he still up there? i would have noticed him coming down—”
you hang up, throwing your phone on the office chair.
bakugou flips up your skirt, revealing your striped white and navy underwear. he kisses your mound over the fabric.
“you said you wouldn’t give me head—,”
“you liked kirishima?”
you blink at him, your fingers in his hair. he’s handsome all the time, but more so on his knees before you. nose brushing over your centre and you’re sure he’s sniffing you. he knows how wet you are, he can see the damned damp patch.
“who?” and then it clicks, “your firefighter friend? what, no. i’ve never spoken to him.”
you smell good, he wants to yank off your underwear and have you sit on his face so he can drink anything that comes out of you. he’d much prefer this in a bed, so he can take his time, listen to every moan so he can learn your body for all the times after.
bakugou grunts, “why’d your assistant mention him?”
“she mentioned you first. i spoke to you, i let you show me around the station, i have you on your knees for me.” the last part has you smiling.
bakugou can’t take hold of the situation, the control slipping through his hands like quicksand and he’s okay with it at this point.
“so why’d she mention him?” he still pushes.
“my colleague likes him, they went off together, remember? she got mixed up,” you ruffle his hair, “don’t worry, nobody’s taking me away from you.”
once the jealousy simmers in bakugou’s stomach, he pulls down your underwear and spreads your legs apart.
“thank fuck.”
bakugou starts with one straight lick from your dripping hole to your round clit at the top. you taste just as he imagined, his moan seeping out of him without warning. he hears you gasp from above, your fingers grabbing a tuft of hair.
“knew you’d taste good, baby girl,” he licks again, stuffing his tongue down your centre to get as much as he can. you’re twitching all over the place, head flung back in the wall behind you and back arched. it’s going to be easy to make you come, you’re already soaked from the look of him.
this is his third time meeting you and he’s already got you on his tongue. bakugou considers himself lucky, blessed, chosen. you cover your mouth when he flicks his tongue inside you, hands keeping you still at your hips.
his nose is in the hair at your mound when he talks, “next time,” a kiss on your clit, “we’re doing this at mine,” another kiss, “so you can make as much noise as you want.”
he tenses his tongue as he licks at your clit, alternating between that and sucking.
“oh, fuck. fuck, katsuki…,” your first time saying his name, he realises. you don’t usually call him anything.
“say it again,” he grunts, “my name.”
he can barely see your face over your arched back, so as he pulls away slightly, he makes sure to sink two fingers inside of you.
“oh shit, katsuki,” you elongate the last syllable of his name, whimpering as you try to push him back into you. he could have predicted you’d be a pusher, “more, katsuki.”
he listens, gliding his fingers in and out with ease, the wet sloppy sounds loud in your perfect girly office. you look similar to the image you signed off on last week for a particularly nsfw work book that will be printed on the inside cover. a muscled man on his knees for a woman in office attire.
“this is s-so crazy,” you mumble, barely registering the words you’re saying. bakugou listens, curling his fingers as he keeps his lips locked on your clit. “i’ve never done this before. this doesn’t feel r-real.”
bakugou laughs into you, breath hot and vibrating. he arches your body so only your shoulders lean on the wall and he’s able to see your whole body. especially how you sneak your hand up your blouse to grab your breast in your white lace bra. your breast is spilling out of it, he feels his cock pulse once he notices your nipple, your fingers pinching the delicate bud as your eyes roll back into your head. he does not deserve to be witnessing this now, you’re going to ruin his life.
“i’m going to come, katsuki,” you whine. your body feels tight with need, release just a second away. bakugou keeps up his rhythm which only makes him louder. the slurps of his tongue, his fingers thrusting in and out.
“c’mon baby, all for me now.”
he holds your hips as you fall apart, a high pitched whine piercing out your throat as pleasure shoots down your bloodstream. your eyes pinch, facing the ceiling as you can’t help but mumble, “fuck, fuck me, oh my god.”
bakugou feels accomplished. the same as the painful success after doing multiple fire runs in a day. his cock aches in his cargos, heavy and sensitive as more of your liquid trails down his hand and wrist.
once you seem somewhat settled, your eyes opening slowly, bakugou kisses your clit goodbye and shuffles up your underwear. he needs to do it or he’ll explode— his tongue licks over his wrists and he plops his fingers into his mouth.
you watch it with half lidded, sleepy eyes, “you’re so sexy.”
bakugou’s already flushed red in the cheeks but this time he feels the compliment in his cock.
“i really liked that,” you say, barely bothering to adjust yourself, “felt amazing.”
“good. i loved doin’ it.”
bakugou notices tissue on your desk, lightly cleaning you up and pulling up your tights next. he’s so careful with you it makes your pout. adjusting your skirt correctly around your waist, then straightening out your blouse. he kisses your breast, then your nipple because he has to, then buttons you back up.
you still look exhausted, wrapping your arms around bakugou’s neck.
he kisses your lips twice, “i’ve gotta go now. my break was over fifteen minutes ago.”
you scrunch up your face in annoyance, reaching for his cock. your mouth waters. you can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet, you can picture it from just how it feels in your hand. you’re a second away from asking him if he wants help with it, that you want it inside you somewhere but you refuse.
you do squeeze him in your palm though, just to have his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “friday.”
“friday, katsuki.”
you let go of him, pushing him off you lightly.
you think bakugou’s gone for sure as you try your hardest to get back to work on your computer. your eyes keep drifting to your personal phone, to text the firefighter. then back on your screen where you zone out remembering him on his knees and how he felt between your legs.
the firefighter is carrying two boxes as he pushes your office door open again with his back. that’s at least 200 hardback books he’s carrying in those boxes, with pure ease. his biceps are tense, bulging and you wonder if he could pick you up next time you are together.
“your assistant asked me. the ones from the phone call.” he rounds your desk and drops them next to you by bending his knees. he’s still crouched when he looks up at you.
“stop looking at me like that,” you forget the thank you, unable to draw your eyes away from him.
he stands up to his full height, scratching his head with a boyish grin, “like what—,” you give him a deadpan look, “sorry, i can just fuckin’… friday.”
you hum back.
“i think your assistant knows we did shit? ‘cause i was up here for so long.” he spills out, grabbing the door handle.
you sigh loudly, “oh shit.”
you can already imagine the rumours you’re going to have to kill around the office. everybody already knows you’re into him… you’ll just say you had lunch or something?
“see you friday, baby.”
“bye katsuki.”
comments and reblogs are appreciated! comments for part 2 will be deleted.
synopsis: your boyfriend looks so good whenever you’re on top that it makes you shy. when are you ever shy?! you wanna sort this out asap or you ride bakugou trying to figure out which position feels best
what’s coming up: 18+, a whole load of smut this is lowkey pwp. p in v, riding, multiple positions, making out, head (f receiving), established relationship, overstimulation (m)
notes: antm title. listen i can’t explain what happened to me. needs another proofread i think.
you mention this one night wrapped in katsuki’s arms about to go to sleep. you’re doing the compulsory three minute spoon until you both pull away and get comfortable at your respective sides of his bed.
this time it’s you spooning him, your leg over his hip, your arm around his waist. you rub your lips over his shoulder and sniff his hair.
“i really want to get better at being on top.” you mumble into his skin, eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness around you.
katsuki shifts his head on the silk pillowcase. you told him to change fabrics to protect his hair (you really meant yours) and he listened, new ivory cases the next time you saw him.
“hah?” it’s a quiet one, not like his usual booming loud ones that hit the back of your eardrum.
“i never feel like i know what i’m doing when i’m on top and i get so shy. i am literally never shy! ever. then you just end up doing the work.” you whine, “i want to be able to be on top and do it well. make us both feel good.”
katsuki breathes in through his nose and out his mouth. you’re having a conversation with him. about sex yes, but this isn’t you offering to have sex now. despite this, the blood rushes to his cock by simply imagining you riding him to oblivion. your head thrown back as your hips grind down on him.
it is true. he’s never seen you shy in any other part of your life or relationship. usually during sex, you’re confident and excited. hell, you’re okay with walking around his apartment naked. but for some reason, you sitting on his cock, legs straddling his waist makes you shy in a way bakugou doesn’t understand.
after making out you’d mumble to him that you want to be on top but as soon as he slides inside of you, katsuki will just look at you and your whole body flushes with heat. it has you mumbling under your breath, trying to look away from him but then his hands are on your thighs and he’s softly cooing at you. compliments about how you feel around him and how pretty you look on top.
which leads to you either leaning forward to cover his eyes with your hand, covering his whole face with your hand so he can’t talk either or just whining that you can’t do it and he needs to take over.
he shuffles around so he’s facing you, your minty breath on his face. he gives you three soft pecks, catching your lips with every brush.
“hm no, don’t give a fuck about me in this. if you feel good, i feel good.” he whispers and it makes you tighten your leg around his waist, your crotch against his lower stomach.
he’s noticed how shy you get on top. the frustration. if he’s honest he thinks it’s adorable. at the beginning of your relationship it was him stuttering like an idiot, overthinking everything he did and assuming every text from you was going to be ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’ which would mostly mean it was him all along.
bakugou is also an idiot for how you beg for him to take over, crawling into his mouth for a kiss. covering his eyes so he can’t see how your breasts bounce and how insanely sweet you look slotted over him. you, all of you, shaking and trembling as he thrusts up. but although he’s into this rare shy version of you, if you want to work on not being so like that, he’ll be there.
his ruby eyes are so caring, a little frown on his face like he’s urging you to understand.
“i do want to make you feel good though,” you rub your palm against his bare chest, feeling every breath he takes. “be in control over the pace.”
“y’can look at me and i feel good. tomorrow we’ll try. see what position has you comin’ over my cock.”
you smile, “i’ll put it in my diary.”
he gives you a kiss, rubbing his nose against yours after, “why d’you feel shy for? ‘s just me.”
that has you slamming your own eyes shut in refusal. laying on your back to sigh into the ceiling.
“because of you. you’re all…,” you wave your hands in the darkness for a terrible explanation. “and the pressure. you’re usually in control.”
that’s true, he is unless you’re giving him head. “i’m what?”
you open your eyes and stare at him. “you make me all shy. staring at me like that while you’re literally inside me and you’re all… big and sexy and i’m so exposed and now i need to make you come while you look like that.”
bakugou grins like you just proposed. the sight of him below you, usually with an aroused dopey smirk, always saying what’s on his mind. the sweat across his forehead or the worst, when he lays on his forearm behind his head without a care in the world. like it’s an everyday occurrence that women sit on his dick and you’re next. it turns you on more than you can admit, it makes you feel like a shy virgin being naked in front of a boy for the first time.
along with the thick cock pressing against your warmest points, it’s too overwhelming for you.
“big and sexy?”
you roll your eyes, “that’s all you heard?”
“y’know i love when you’re on top. happy to do whatever you want,” he chuckles boyishly and the big arm that haunts you, wraps around your waist to drag you into his body. “like i wasn’t shittin’ myself when we fucked for the first time. lookin’ up at me like your life depended on a hard fuck.”
you guys dated for two months before you got intimate. to say you were going crazy for a single touch from this man, would be an understatement.
“no i wasn’t! but you look cocky and mean in a sexy way,” you gasp looking at him, “you look like dynamight. tv dynamight.”
tv dynamight is an alternate version of dynamight and your usual boyfriend bakugou katsuki. tv dynamight is the one you see snappily answering after fight interviews or smirking when the crowd cheers for him or rolling his eyes when he’s on a talk show and he gets a stupid question. you never get this version of him, he’s so much softer and love struck with you. doesn’t mean you don’t love watching it.
bakugou frowns, “i just look at you and say you look good. that sounds like a bad thing.”
“did you miss me saying you look sexy? so sexy it gets me feeling like an idiot.” you cross your arms under the covers. “i just want to be good at it. able to make you come like that.”
as much as he loves you still feeling nervous around him, he wants to get to the bottom of this.
“we’re sortin’ this tomorrow.”
having planned sex is a whole different game than simply assuming you’ll have sex tonight or having it spontaneously. it includes you turning up at bakugou’s apartment, more excited than usual, flinging your overnight bag on the ground and your arms around his neck.
“i watched a few videos and read articles on how to be comfortable and i did a few stretches at home,” you say, kissing him hello and katsuki has to blink into realisation.
your conversation before bed. he’s been thinking about having you tonight all day that part of him believed it was all his imagination. he kisses you back, then your cheek.
“y’look pretty,” you’re in a matching comfy pink gym set. he doesn’t know the last time you went to the gym but you always ask him to buy you these expensive ass sets. “and wait, you stretched to prepare?”
he chuckles bubbly, grabbing your bag off the floor. you pout immediately, “don’t laugh at me. i’m trying here! all you have to do is lay back.”
“i’m not laughin’ at you, baby. i love you,” he grins, “i’d never laugh.”
but you’re clenching your teeth, looking away at the dinner he’s started preparing for you both. ah, this evening he’s got his sensitive girlfriend. perhaps this was a bigger deal than you originally made it out to be.
“maybe i shouldn’t—,”
“no, we are. it was just fuckin’ adorable, i should have had a wank before you came so i don’t bust as soon as you’re naked.”
he walks into his bedroom to plop your bag on the floor and you follow behind.
“you do that?”
“i used to when we started datin’. meant i’d last longer. the fact we planned this i should have done my prep.”
his last syllable is cut off when you lay your lips over his, tugging the end of his white tee so he pulls it off.
“don’t expect this to be good, i’m just trying and testing tonight, okay?” you mumble and just as quick as usual, katsuki hardens in his basketball shorts.
the idea of being your test dummy, your experiment while you ride him, sounds like a fantasy to him. it’s true that you’d ask to be on top usually and then upon not being able to find your groove, you give up. then katsuki will grab your ass cheeks and slide you up and down like you weigh a feather.
“sounds sexy, baby,” he groans, nibbling down your neck and in turn, being rewarded with sweet gasps from you. “get naked for me.”
bakugou lays back in the centre of his bed butt naked and hard as a rock while you sit on your knees beside him, also butt naked.
“sit on my face,” he orders.
“no! treat this seriously.”
“i’m so fuckin’ serious, c’mon. you say you need to get comfortable, you’re always comfortable on my face. maybe i needa make you come first.”
he doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying, he just knows you're wet right now and he wants a taste.
it does sway you a little. thinking about the videos you’ve seen and articles you’ve read. educational ones! some being porn also. stretching your hips is necessary and it’s not that you’re uncomfortable around your boyfriend, just being on top, shyness takes over.
his hand drifts up your thighs, then your soft stomach before squeezing your breast. you see katsuki twitch out the corner of your eye. your mouth waters at the sight of him. always so pretty, thick and long, dead weight on his stomach. only from some kissing and being naked together.
“we could sixty nine?”
he grabs your hips, dragging you closer and manoeuvring you so you’re sitting on his upper chest. he can smell you from here, he’s sure pre is leaking from him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“we’re focusin’ on you.”
“says the one begging to eat me out.”
katsuki’s smiles always drive you crazy, mostly because they’re always dedicated to you. the world gets his smirks and as sexy as they are, it’s never a genuinely excited smile. especially over the prospect of having you on his face.
his gold tooth catches the warm lamp light and he reaches to kiss your thigh, “you’re so close now. can smell ya.”
before you can let the intimacy overwhelm you, you sit up on your knees and carefully slot your pussy over your lover's face.
katsuki only needed one session with you to be good at eating you out. an annoying thing about him is how he’s simply good at everything, whilst you, after months of dating, still need to work on things. you think about the sex positive podcasts you’ve listened to recently and it’s true, not everything is going to work out of the box. you’re two completely different people coming together. in both ways.
but katsuki, he always knew exactly what to do to get you trembling. it’s firstly his enthusiasm. probably the biggest turn on. how he clutches your thighs like someone’s about to take you away. the meat of your legs will definitely have an imprint after this. how he closes his eyes and moans into you. rocks your hips into his face as his tongue laps up everything you are.
like a man starved, his death row meal and he’s asked for you on a platter. he sucks on your clit and opens his eyes to see you lean over to grab the headboard. watching your tits and how they shake at every movement he makes. katsuki loves to talk but because his mouth is preoccupied, you just get vibrations through you along with the accompanying moans and groans he can’t help.
“fuck, y’taste… so fuckin’—,” is all he can manage, sticking his tongue down your centre and licking as much as he can.
“‘tsuki, so good,” you cry, you meet his eyes and your whole body heats up to boiling temperature. his ruby pupils are narrowed, as if he’s testing you to come now, on his face.
you grind your hips on him, following wherever feels good. he slaps your ass and you mewl. “i’m gonna, baby, i need to come.”
since he can’t speak even if he wanted to, you do as you please, coming all over katsuki’s face. your body trembles as he swipes up every drop that comes out of you, keeping you still so you don’t fall off. you clench your eyes shut, wailing loud enough that in any other part of the city, you’d have angry neighbours.
you flop onto the bed beside katsuki, as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. you’re quick to give him a cuddle, basking in the come down of your orgasm.
“good, baby?” he asks, rubbing your back slowly.
you nod against him, stuffing your face in his armpit as you catch your breath.
“how are you so good at that?”
bakugou laughs, chest swelling with pride, “‘m just passionate.”
after counting to three in your head you get up slowly, biting down on your lip.
“you wanna take another second?”
“no! and i think you were right. the orgasm helped.”
you swing your leg over bakugou’s thighs to straddle him. carefully you take hold of his cock, flicking your wrist up and down him.
katsuki reaches his arm behind his head to lay on his forearm. everything about the man is sex. the massive biceps, his flushed face. how he kneads your thigh to check you’re still there with his eyes shut.
“just like that, babygirl,” he grunts, “been thinking about this since you mentioned it. horny all goddamn day.”
you smile at him, “thinking of me in your meetings?”
you squeeze the base of his cock, your other hand coming in to rub his balls in your palm. his hips jolt into your hands, chasing every movement.
“i always fuckin’ am. b-but you on top, ridin’ the shit outta me.”
you moan without meaning to, “i want to do that for you.”
bakugou’s eyes slid open, “today is about you. findin’ out how you like it.” he pulls your hands off him and you pout. “sit on me and start movin’.”
“yes, sir,” you say playfully but it only makes bakugou exhale shakily, blinking away any newfound arousal.
he holds your hips, as you angle his cock into you. you’re already soaked from what he did to you, so he slides in like a dream, bottoming out completely.
“oh fuck,” you curse, planting your hands flat on his chest. staying still feels good, you feel him everywhere, prodding your softest parts, your walls sucking him in like he belongs there. but you know it could feel better, you just need to work out how.
“i wanna fuck into you. didn’t realise how hard this shit would be for me,” he groans, adjusting the pillow behind his head.
you blink away the horny fog the best you can. he’s still got your shine on his chin and he’s staring at you like he’s a second away from taking over. swinging you so you lay flat so he can take control. you feel his gaze on every part of your body, the focus on your soft stomach then where you meet between your legs. what gets you most is how he focuses on your face as if he’s recording every expression and exhale. the clear proof of him being so into you, the smirk rising onto his cheeks at the position you’ve got him in.
the fact he’s so into you, whilst looking like an adonis statue in an art gallery, makes you so shy.
“s-so last time i just grinded on you but i didn't feel anything? i watched a few videos on how to bounce on you without aching.” you try to look away from him, but it just has you staring at his chest. littered with these gorgeous scars. his golden body that can protect you and the country. you have to close your eyes.
“you’re watchin’ porn without me?”
you and bakugou have never watched porn together with the aim to come. sometimes you’d send him a video of something you wanna try but that’s all.
“for research! and some girls on tiktok helped.”
“okay, babygirl. do your thing, pretend i’m not here lookin’ big and sexy.”
“shut up,” you mumble, firstly planting your feet into the mattress by his hips and keeping your hands flat on bakugou’s chest to begin bouncing on his cock.
it’s a position you’ve never tried, one that always embarrassed you to imagine getting into and moving like so. you’re grateful for your stretch beforehand because bakugou glides in and out like butter. it’s more intense than just sitting on him, your body is squashed and he knows he’s gonna be using this image to get himself off till the end of time.
“oh, oh…,” you whine, tits smushed, stomach clenched to focus on what feels best. “i like this. feels good, baby.”
bakugou clenches his teeth. he can see you suck him up with every bounce, your thighs wet, so is his length. he could come like this alone if you moan any louder.
“you comfortable?” he asks, “you look insane, babygirl. can’t believe this… i could come.”
“don’t!” you squeal, whines flowing out of you without meaning to, “my knees are hurting.”
“i can help,” bakugou thrusts his hips up into you and he’s about to thrust you down into him, like what he usually does once you give up.
“no, no, let me try something else.”
without pulling off him completely, you press your knees into the bed and lean all your weight onto your left side. you begin to bounce again, up and down, up and down.
you fling your head back, mostly from the burn switching from your knees to your thighs.
bakugou’s obsessed with whatever position you get yourself in, “doin’ so good, princess.”
that has you looking at him, leaning forward for a kiss. he meets it without thought, biting down on your bottom lip when you pull away.
“i am?”
he nods rapidly, swearing under his breath. he’s got a layer of sweat on his forehead even though he’s barely done anything. forcing himself to not move is more exerting than just moving.
“yeah, baby. feels like torture though, not gonna lie to you.” he squeezes the fat of your hips, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.
you switch your weight onto your right knee, sighing in delight, wetness leaking from you. your bodies are getting louder now, the slap of your skin against his. graphic with the white ring forming around bakugou’s cock.
“now you know how i feel when you won’t let me come,” you whisper and he’s about to lean in to bite your lip as a punishment but you rotate around so your back is facing him.
you’ve never tried reverse cowgirl before but you can already predict how katsuki will feel about it. bakugou’s least favourite position. you know this because he always goes on about how he loves to see your face. your sweet loverboy. but equally one of his favourites because it’s a front row view of your rippling ass every time you slap down on him. it’s enough to make him come, a few bounces and he’s done. it’s also a good break to not have to think about him staring at you. the number one tip for other shy girls on that blog site you read.
you forward, grabbing his knees and for a second you can barely move.
“princess?” bakugou asks, caressing your ass slowly. “you okay?”
“i can feel you in my stomach,” his cockhead nudges against your insides, somehow further than you’ve ever felt before. why the hell haven’t you tried this before?
bakugou sits up on his forearm, sneaking his hand to your stomach, “does it hurt? you wanna pull off?”
you shake your head, then you remember he can’t see you well. you moan, grinding back into him. you can’t be quiet, can barely make out a coherent word either. you’re between crying and moaning, soft breaths of “‘tsuki,” and another wail.
“so good, fuck, i’m gonna die,” you gasp and the warmth in your stomach bundles together and tightens. you ignore the burn in your knees, focusing on the obscene amount of pleasure that bursts under your skin. you reach between your legs to play with your clit, slow circular rubs to make everything last as long as possible.
katsuki gets where you are now. the idea of you using him like a toy is what had him boiling all day. you’re moving on your own accord, focusing on yourself and what feels good. he begins to help, meeting your thrusts just so you scream louder.
“cmon, baby,” he says behind gritted teeth, “let me hear ya, louder for me.”
bakugou’s strict with his thrusts, obsessed with how your body shakes when it comes into contact with his. how his thighs are equally soaked and the fact that you’re both leaking onto his bedsheets. he keeps moving and before he knows it, only hearing your whines, he comes inside you.
jolting harshly, a hand on your hip bone to keep you close while he comes. it has you looking back at him with a frown.
“s-sorry, i couldn’t fuckin’—,” he’s gasping for air, back arched off the bed. he holds you down and you’re grinning like you’ve won a prize. “fuck, holy shit.”
“you came.”
delight blossoms inside of you, your body burning for your own release. katsuki looks exhausted. red cheeks, sweat coating his forehead. he genuinely looks pissed that he came. you look at the mess between your legs, so much come.
he grunts in annoyance, “i didn’t mean to i—,”
but he’s cut off as you face him again, ignoring all the liquids spilling out. you plant your feet by his head and lean back, your hands on his knees.
“touch my clit for me,” you ask politely and bakugou does what he’s told, mentally preparing himself for the overstimulation about to come.
you begin bouncing again, using your hands to guide your body up and down, rolling your hips to grind to hit a specific spot. all the shyness you ever felt before has evaporated, simply following your body to catch whatever feels good.
bakugou on the other hand, feels as if he’s about to pass out. if it’s the squelch in the air, the sight of your pussy drenched and his cock soaked. your pubic hair has strings of his come and his lower stomach has a shine to it. his cock is still hard, aching, twitching in painful flicks of pleasure. but there’s no way he could say no, not with you looking practically angelic.
you’re in your own world with your little mumbles, your whines that sound troubled but are anything but. he’s not sure how he can have you in any other position but on top after this. you ride him like you own him, like he’s yours to play with and use to relax. your breasts are soft, nipples perked to the ceiling and as he rolls his thumb against your clit, he knows you’re ready to come any second now.
“oh my god, katsuki.” you make those odd grunting sounds that make bakugou leak, “faster, w-why haven’t we done this before?”
you say in a rush and bakugou obeys, speeding up his rubs on your clit.
“this is all we’re gonna do now, huh?”
you hum, pace slowing as the burn of your knees radiates.
“lettin’ you ride my cock while i come early like a fuckin’ teenager,” he moans, frowning harshly because he’s too sensitive now, way too sensitive.
bakugou takes matters into his own hands, especially once you whine for him, “help me, ‘tsuki.”
you lift your head up to lock eyes with him. you’re fucking crying. tears down your cheeks, “i love you so much.”
he thrusts into you, meaning you no longer need to strain your body anymore. he moves you for your own pleasure, sliding you up and down, mimicking how you were moving and he’s ready to come again.
“nah, you love my cock. tell me you do.”
it takes only a second for you to reply, stretching your arms straight, your back arched so bakugou can see all the beautiful curves of your breasts and waist. he bites back his bearish groans, this is way too much for him right now. he thinks hes about to come again.
“l-love your cock so much. feels like heaven, like i’m gonna split open,” you babble, “love it so much, ‘tsuki.”
“my good fuckin’ girl, usin’ me like this. love you so much, princess,” he hums and before you can even catch yourself, after all the noise tonight, your orgasm is a silent one.
these strained gasps come from your throat as you lean forward, your whole body tensing. you don’t mean to dig your nails into his chest, but bakugou welcomes the pain especially when he orgasms again, loud enough for you both.
he growls into the air as you hold yourself up over him, open mouthed, tears falling from your eyes.
you can barely contain yourself, your body still bouncing as he continues thrusting his hips. everything is lewd, the stained bedsheets and the trail of sweat down your breasts. the sound of your ass hitting his balls only draws out your orgasm, your bodies soaked with each other.
“oh my god, oh my god,” you whisper. you stare at your boyfriend in shock as he slows down and wraps his arms around your body to drag you to his chest. “we’ve never… it’s never felt like that before.”
you can feel him pulsating inside of you and your walls are hot around him.
you both breathe, catching your breaths, plastered to each other.
“you’ve got me fucked,” his chuckle is dry, but you shuffle to get comfortable and bakugou yelps. “don’t fuckin’ move. please.”
you smile, pressing kisses into his chest until you realise what you’ve done. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to…”
you trail off, lightly brushing your thumb over the red scratches over katsuki’s chest. bakugou’s half lidded eyes catch yours, grabs your hand to kiss the centre of your palm.
“it felt good, princess. needed any distraction to ignore your warm pussy.” he pouts his lips and you happily meet his, “you confident bein’ on top now?”
bakugou twitches inside of you, “yeah. i know what to do now.”
“you looked…,” and he doesn’t know how to describe you. but you’re patiently waiting for an answer. if anyone likes to be complimented more than him, it’s you, “like a goddamn angel. thought you were gonna kill me.”
“i’d never,” your eyes droop, ready for an evening nap. “you need to pull out now.”
bakugou sighs, “this is gonna be a mess to clean up and my dick aches.”
“i’m sore too!”
bakugou rolls his eyes but he knows he’s going to be kissing your knees and thighs any minute now.
“still want me to cook dinner or order in?” he asks, pushing you on your back to slowly slide out of you.
you whine softly as he does, not used to the feeling of not being full. you almost want to sit back on him, clamp your legs around him and never let him go.
“fuck,” bakugou grunts, then he sees your pout. “after dinner.”
your eyes light up, “really?”
“you’re goddamn insatiable.”
“it’s just there’s one more position, well two, i want to try with you sitting up and me laying down.”
he climbs off the bed to grab a clean flannel from his en-suite. “you wanna break me, huh?” he calls.
you giggle, “no, i just wanna know how it’ll feel and the website i found has loads of positions we haven’t tried.”
you have the audacity to look innocent while he wipes your legs with the damp flannel. then your lower stomach and very lightly between your legs.
“you should have told me earlier i would have booked tomorrow off work.” he kisses your knee, “we can do whatever you want. until you get all achy.”
there’s no doubt he’d be able to get hard again for you, especially looking this eager about trying a new way to have sex with him.
you nod softly, running your hand down his face, “can you still cook? i want your udon noodles.”
if it was up to bakugou he’d order in. he’s way too tired to cook for you right now and still have energy to have sex again after. he had a whole patrol and training earlier today too.
but one thing bakugou has always struggled with since he met you, is the ability to say no. especially not when you sit up and grab the flannel from him to slowly swipe across his stomach and then his softened cock.
your nerdy fuckbuddy gojo has a tongue piercing?!?
“gojo—“ you said. “pause. stop.” you added, pulling his head up, away from your pussy. normally, you’d never stop him. ever. he pushed his slightly fogged up glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then spoke, his tone quiet and worried. “wh—what’s wrong? did— does it not feel good? a—am i going too fa—“ you shook your head quickly, and then sat up on your forearms.
“no, no, of course not— it’s .. i dunno. something feels.. weird. sort of.. cold.” you spoke, feeling sort of uncertain and deluded. you had never felt this feeling when he ate you out. you grabbed his chin lightly, and then thumbed at his lips. “do you have ice in your mouth or something?” you asked.
“uh—no..? but.. i.. can if you’d like that?” he said, looking up at you with a worried expression on his face. as he spoke, though, you noticed something shining in his mouth. “open your mouth.” you ordered. and he did so. quicker than you’d expected. he stuck his tongue out, and you gasped. “when did you get that?” you said, staring at the metal ball on his tongue.
“um.. a few days ago. i lost a bet with my brother.” he said, scratching his head and looking away, almost like he was embarrassed. “your brother.. the one in the fraternity?” you asked. “that’s the one.” he confirmed. wasn’t too far off from him. you’ve met him before— saturo. the sleazy, disgustingly sexy yet dangerous frat boy. you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want him.
“hm.” you said quietly. “do you like it?” he whispered, going back down so his nose was level with your cunt. “does it make you feel good?” he said, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh. he gave you a long, slow lick, from your hole to your clit, not breaking eye contact. “when i got it done,” he said quietly, giving your clit a sweet kiss, and snaking his arms around your thighs to hold you down, so you wouldn’t twitch so much. “i couldn’t stop thinking of you. i was so excited to use it on you..” he murmured against you.
he reached up his hand, dragging his middle finger and ring fingers from your clit, down to circle around your hole, and then finally, inserting them in. he leaned up to you, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, then another against your ear as he fingered you. “satoru—“ you moaned, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. you bit your lip, and then he leaned down to capture your lips, wasting no time to use his tongue.
his tongue circled yours, and you moaned at the taste of yourself, and the feeling of his metal on your tongue. “i lost the bet on purpose.” he whispered against your lips. “i overheard you talking about guys with tongue piercings, and..” he said softly, giving your lips a chaste peck, his thumb moving up to work your clit as he fingered you. “i got jealous. jealous that you potentially didn’t have me in mind.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “i wanted nothing more than for you to experience this. nothing more than for you to use me for as long as you want to.” he said, his tone almost whiny as he pleaded.
mdni - hehe this is a drabble style commission, reader is thicc/curvy, and Choso has a thing for thick thighs - lots of whimpering, mentions of oral, making out, dry humping, making him cum in his pants ofcc
hehe this is a drabble style commission- <3 2.4k wc!
You’re always running late to class – to anything, really, but especially classes on the weekend, you’re the tiniest bit hungover from a party, the lip stain you used not coming off no matter how hard you scrub. You’re tugging your skirt since it’s riding just a bit up your thighs, your professor looking at you utterly unsurprised.
You’re only in this class because it’s an easy A.
“Since you’re late – surprise,” you sigh and the class snickers just a bit. “You can get paired with Choso over there, he’s the only one not paired up.”
“Paired up for what?” You ask, walking over to him – fuck he’s hot, you’ve thought that for weeks now, but it’s not like you’ve heard him talk or said a word. He’s not unfriendly though, just seems super shy.
“You all have a ten minute speech to give next weekend.”
“Oh joy…”
Choso smiles as you sit at the table next to him, letting your laptop bag sit on the floor. The professor starts to explain just what it is you two will have to do, you’re barely paying attention because you never do, but Choso’s not paying attention for an entirely different reason.
Your thighs squishing just a bit in the seat as you lean back, you see his eyes catch them, making you tug your skirt down just a bit.
“I may not have done laundry and this was all I had,” you mumble softly, he laughs just a bit, shaking his head. It’s a slutty ass skirt but you had not thought to wash your clothes until the last minute, so they’re still running in the washer.
“Nah, it’s cute on you.”
You think this is the first time you’ve heard him talk – his voice is deep, so deep it surprises you, making your tummy clench just from how they sound.
“It is?” Your words are just a whisper, he blushes then, looking away – of course your thighs look good where he can see them, his hand itches to slip up and squish them himself, or just rest his head right on your lap.
“Yeah…”
“Thank you,” you’re tugging your skirt again a few moments later, shifting in your seat – how dare you try to cover them, really, but it’s more of a skirt you’d wear going out, not to class. You take your laptop out and start clicking around when Choso recognizes that anime character.
“You watch that?”
You look at him and smile nervously. “I do, it’s my favorite. You do too?”
“Oh yeah, I have a figure of him this big.”
You look at his hands, tattooed, those black nails, making your mind – still cloudy from the liquor last night – go to the filthiest places. “That big, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“I’d like to see it,” you curse yourself then, don’t you sound slutty, but he’s oblivious, smiling all cute and pushing up his glasses.
“Of course I can show you, we can work on the presentation in my dorm?”
*****
Choso’s frantically fucking cleaning his room, it’s pretty neat already but his brothers had come to party with him and messed it all up. He’s making his bed, wiping down his desk, he even goes over to start dusting his figures. You did want to see them, after all!
You knock on the door just as he’s grabbing a couple drinks from his little fridge out, he wants to be a courteous host, after all. He opens it up and smiles at you, you’ve still got that little skirt on and a sweater over it, hanging just enough off your shoulder that it’s bare. He pauses just a moment, realizing there’s gonna be a girl in his room, standing there in the doorway.
“Uh, can I come in?” You ask then, he snaps out of it.
“Of course, like of course you… come in,” he’s shutting the door behind you as you take it all in. “Here, do you like this flavor?”
“I do, thank you,” your fingers brush when he hands you the little soda, you open it and put it to your lips, setting your bag down on his desk. “Oooh, is this your collection? You have so many!”
“I’m a big fan,” he never thought a girl would find his collection of anime figures cool, but here you are, bending down to look at them.
Bending down.
Here you are bending….
Choso’s brain is short circuiting, he can see a hint of that lush ass with those panties you’re wearing, he tries to avert his eyes, flushing on his cheeks. You stand up and tip toe, peeking at his POPS now, turning and smiling over at him.
“These are so rare!”
“I think I got them at a con,” you walk over to him now, sipping your drink, a little drop slips down your lips, he swipes it before he can think better, making both of you pause.
“You um… go to cons?” You ask, his thumb still lingering, you’re lost in his pretty amethyst eyes – so dark but you can see the hints of color, lidded ones with a thick fringe of lashes.
His fingers feel so good on your face you’d love them to just stay, but he pulls them back finally, clearing his throat and sipping his drink like it’s a beer and he’s trying to catch a buzz. “I uh… do. Do you?”
“Hell yeah I do, maybe we could do one together? None of my friends like to dress up and go.”
“Hah – both of us go?” Choso, say yes, stop stammering – but you’re so pretty and you’re so close and… “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Can I ask why you’ve never talked to me before?” You say softly, snatching up your laptop and leaving the drink on the little coaster he has there, sitting right down on the plush rug at the bottom of his bed.
He rubs the back of his neck, sitting in the black gamer chair he’s usually playing shooter games in, rubbing the back of his neck a bit nervously. “I’m kinda shy, I guess.”
“That’s okay,” you smile and begin to tap at your keys. “I used to be shy, too.”
“Yeah?”
“I know, weird to imagine now,” you sigh a bit, resting the laptop on your thighs as you lean back against his bed. “All right, so what are we thinking?”
“I just hate presentations,” he mumbles, you’re studying the screen with your knees up just a bit, showing way too much of those thick thighs, he keeps picturing them squeezing his head to death.
What a way to die, though.
“Any ideas at all though?” you ease them down, crossing them at the ankle, tilting your head to look at him.
“Hmm…”
Nerdy, thick thighs and you’re hot? You’re like something out of Choso’s daytime fantasies when he jerks his cock.
“Choso?” You ask softly, his gaze is on your legs, his words gone quiet now, lips parted ever so slightly. “What’s up?”
“N-nothing,” his gaze goes back to your cute little face, but then you lean forward and he gets a glimpse of your tits and he’s throbbing hard. He feels like a damn pervert right now, turning and adjusting it, already leaking pre against his boxers.
“You sure nothing’s wrong?” You stand curiously, he spins his chair back to face you, thighs spread just so, your hands adjust his pigtails carefully, bringing those tits right in his face.
He’d love to see his dick move between them – really he’s not usually like this!? He does love thick thighs and a fat ass, but he can’t be acting like this. It doesn’t help you smell good and you’re so sweet, he’s been thinking of asking you out but hasn’t gotten the courage. Now you’re looking right at him, standing between his thighs, his hands flex just a bit on the arms of the chair, before they grab those hips.
“So, you think we should practice the presentation on each other?” You ask, far too close, he swallows nervously and nods. “Or… should we make out?”
“Huh!? Say wha-!?”
You giggle now, his eyes are drawn right to your lips. “Am I far off? You keep staring at my lips… do you want to kiss me?”
“I um… don’t want you to think I invited you here for that,” fuck he wants to kiss both sets of your lips.
“So just studying? That’s okay too,” you go to turn away and he spins you back around to him, capturing your lips in a desperate, needy kiss. “Mmph!”
“Fuck, sorry,” he pulls back, his hands already slipping lower.
“Tell me what you want…”
“You right here,” he tugs you on his lap, you feel his strength then, a little nervous as your thighs press on either side of his hips, hands resting on his shoulders. “Can I squish them, please?”
“My thighs?” He nods, all desperate and needy – you giggle nervously, nodding and letting his hands squish them, earning his slutty little moan. “Oh you really like them, huh?”
“They’d make the best rest for my head,” your turn to blush. “When I need just a break from eating you out.”
“Oh! Choso,” he’s surprising you with how utterly filthy he is when you kiss him, he’s not just shyly pressing his lips on yours, his mouth is parting yours, his tongue slipping inside. “Mmm…”
“Is this okay?” He asks softly, pausing to take a breath, you nod quickly, Choso’s never really kissed so he feels awkward, but you’re just kissing him right back, moaning into his mouth, rocking your curvy hips. His hands find purchase there, pressing in at your pelvis and making you gasp.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling back for a breath when his kisses lower, his mouth tracing your collarbone. Your back arches, his lips to trailing down your tits, rocking your hips against him, every drag of your soaking wet panties on that rough denim making you ache. His lips move to your nipple, your tit squished in one of his hands, as his tip presses that twitchy little clit.
"Mnh!" You cry out desperately, Choso's pulling back from your nipple, flicking his tongue ring against it and making you clench around nothing, aching to be full of him.
"Fuck your tits are s'pretty," he whispers against your lips, kissing you again, his grip on your ass tightening - his fingers dimple the flesh there, hands sinking into the softness of your plush thighs. "You're soaked..."
You moan as he starts to move with you, rolling his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm that grinds his cock harder against your soppy cunt. It feels so good your eyes roll back, his sharp teeth nipping your throat, eliciting a slutty moan from the back of your throat.
He whimpers as you move faster, you're soaking his cock, every movement having your slick slide down your panties, coating the fabric until it's pathetic. He tugs at the elastic, slipping your skirt up to peek at the little tummy there, moaning. You get just a little nervous, tugging it down, but he shoves it back up.
"You're so sexy don’t hide, fuck you're so soft," he's marveling at it, hands gripping your bare hips, watching the flesh give underneath his grip.
"Y-you think I am?"
"Mhm," Choso's been jerking it to his curvy lil classmate, he's been dying to make a move - but he was just too shy. Now that all fades, he's shoving you down harder, mouth leaving hot, open mouthed kisses, leaning back to look at the sight of his bulge pressing between your puffy lips.
“S-sensitive,” you’re hitting your needy clit over and over, Choso leans back in his chair, his finger slipping underneath the elastic. “Ngh!”
“Want me to help you cum, pretty?” You nod quickly, a jerky little motion, the rough pad of his finger finding your twitchy clit, you quit moving, thighs pressing either side of his hips. “No, keep moving, pretty. Just like that.”
You never thought shy, sweet Choso could take a commanding tone, but when you’re drooling down his fingertip and all over his lap, he’s whimpering, his cheeks flushed red, eyes dark as they study you under that thick fringe of lashes.
“There you go, doing s’good,” your tongues are messy when you kiss again, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth, the sounds of him rutting his leaky cock mixing with the squish of your messy cunt.
“Ngh!” You’re trembling when he uses his arm to wrap around, grinding you on him and jerking up, sending you over until you’re cumming, gushing all down your inner thighs, your cunt slippery and messy as it quivers around nothing, he presses up more. “Choso…”
“Cum again, you can do it, hmm?”
Choso’s so close he can’t take it, feeling the plush cunt spurting on his sensitive tip, you’re making a mess of his hands, jeans soaked. He uses his other hand to grip that ass, more than a handful, he can’t wait to see it in every position, ones he’s only really imagined so far, but he’d love to do them all with you.
“That’s it, good girl…”
You’re kissing him again as your aftershocks hit, lips parted and gasping when he pulls his finger off, swiping it against your lips like a gloss. You cry out when he kisses it right off you, and that’s when Choso busts his load right in his boxers, his jeans dragged down with another rock of your hips.
You feel the warmth spread underneath you. “Oh… mnh… you’re cummin’ s’much…”
“Sh-shit,” he’s busted so much it’s leaking through his damn boxers, those jeans have slid down enough that the white, sticky drops are pressing against your cunt. You ease back and take a breath, blushing at the mess you two made.
“Choso…”
“Mhmm?” His eyes are all lidded and fucked out already, his glasses foggy from all your kissing, you adjust them straight again, biting your lip and looking down at his mess, taking a bit of it and lapping it off your thumb, making him whine out.
what do you think of modern au bakugou, where he's a firefighter? 😈
this became a drabble so firefighter!bakugou
— suggestive, making out, groping, dirty talk, reader works in publishing, this was soooo fun
he’s training in the gym with all his heavy gear on and heavy weights because he has to drag people out of burning buildings??????? insane! cannot breathe.
and the fact that everybody thinks he’s soooo fine here to save lives. like imagine your work office had a false alarm and you have the firefighters walking into the building. also the fact that your office is majority women so everyone’s wowed by big buff sexy men walking in.
bakugou who’s grumpy in every universe. still ordering his team around, frowning at whoever’s talking to him and you make one joke that this reminds you of your last birthday party and he’s narrowing his eyes over at you. face completely unreadable. nom nom nom.
totally the type of guy to see a pretty girl and not say anything and mentally wish her the best.
until you and your work buddies go down to the fire station to say sorry for the false alarm and the man with red hair greets you and lets you put the cakes and treats you brought over in their staff room. bakugou walks in hearing all the noise and is faced with your pretty face again. feels like it’s fate. then feels like he’s stupid.
he’s in a tight navy plain tshirt and those matching thick firefighter bottoms. arms crossed. tattoos and scars down them. dog tag around his neck. metal toed boots on that give him height.
you coming onto him would be fun but i don’t believe in women doing that so really it’s you doe eyed asking him questions about his job, bothering him, asking for a tour of the fire truck and the whole time he’s looking around bored like he’d rather be anywhere but here, telling you not to touch stuff and trying not to flush when you gasp when he tells you how much he can bench.
“we gotta carry people and parts of buildings off people. the hoses are heavy too.”
that makes you think about his dick. he’s blushing at you staring at him open mouthed.
“wow. that’s like… six of me you can carry.”
bakugou looking at you up and down. just like you wanted him too. he’s got a gold tooth, that you ask him about, he was too embarrassed to tell you. he slammed his face on a pole, there was smoke and he couldn’t see his way! forces himself not to stare at your ass as you climb in the truck.
again he’s all blushy because you’re listening hard and he hates the fact he hasn’t asked you any questions yet. you’re looking at all the buttons, the water supply, the spare helmets.
“and… you work with books right?”
that has you blinking at him. still has his arms folded, still a foot taller than you. gorgeous man. stupidly gorgeous with fluffy blonde hair, little gold hoop earrings and three rings on. two on his right and one on his left.
if he has a girlfriend you’re going to strangle yourself with the hose. or maybe you can be a homewrecker?
“publishing, yes,” you laugh, “i work in the romance department.”
the truck feels tight with only you two in here. he points to one of the spare fireman jackets.
“you can try one on. we let the kids try.”
despite the fact that a very handsome man is showing you around, this is all very exciting. you’ve never been in a fire station or truck before.
“you work with kids?”
you think you love the man.
he hums, “sometimes. usually i make the guys do it.”
then he grunts to himself, how has the topic come back to him.
“so… you like romance books then?”
you shove on the jacket. bakugou feels winded once he realises you’re wearing his. his name is on the breast. then again, he’d tell you to wear another if you picked up someone else’s.
“love them. and before you say anything, they’re the best selling genre in the world. romance books teach people empathy and honesty!”
“hah?” he frowns, “i wasn’t gonna say shit. i don’t read them but i get the appeal.”
you feel like you’re in one right now. you want to put your arm on his pectoral and say, “you do?” but you don’t do that, instead you point at a large red button.
“what’s that for?”
“the sirens and lights. that one is just the lights though, you can press that.” he steps in close to you now and he feels all over the place when he can just smell himself. you’re still in his oversized jacket that’s drowning you.
if you have a boyfriend he’s gonna ask kirishima to run over his foot with the truck. then he’d run over your boyfriend.
“do you read?”
“do you like your job?”
you both ask at the same time.
bakugou shakes his head, “fuck sorry, what d’you say?”
you didn’t think he’d be so… shy? since you’re so close, he can barely make eye contact with you. mumbling stuff you can’t make out under his breath. he smells sweet, like caramel and mixed with the smokiness of the truck, it’s enough to make your mouth water.
“i asked if you read.” you smile softly, “is this your jacket?”
you heard from the other men that his name is katsuki, but his jacket reads bakugou.
he nods sharply, “i do read. thrillers, mangas and comics.”
then he’s back frowning at you, “mangas and comics aren’t just for kids, y’know.”
you giggle, “i do know that actually. i have friends who work in that department.”
bakugou chews his bottom lip.
“d’you have a boyfriend?,” then he pauses, “or girlfriend?”
you look away from him, running your fingers over the switches, buttons and little wheels.
“no and nope.”
bakugou feels like a kid on his first day at school. can he even handle a woman like you? is he fucked before even trying?
“you like men right?”
that makes you laugh, “occasionally, yes.”
“fuck, okay. that’s good.”
you both blink at each other, you with a smirk and bakugou with apple red cheeks. he hates this shit. he wants to take you out, why is it so hard to ask?
“should we get your friends? colleagues? see where they are?” he murmurs, unable to hold your gaze for long.
your face drops, what the hell?
bakugou grunts, loudly. “sorry, i don’t… i don’t do this. i was plannin’ on never seein’ you again.”
“okay…,” you drawl, impatiently waiting for the golden question.
“i think you’re gorgeous. funny too,” he spills and you reward him with a simple eyebrow raise, “lemme have your number? so i can take you out.”
you hold out your hand for his phone.
bakugou begins patting down his pockets, then faster in panic. “fuck. fuck, i left it chargin’ in the office.”
he’s bottling it but you’re back smiling at him now, your hands in his jacket pockets.
“you’re lucky you have pretty eyes and that you save lives.” you say, pulling out your phone. “text yourself so you have my number.”
he can’t stop swearing, “fuck. yeah, i will.”
you want to see how far you can push it. you know for sure he’s interested in you. this nervousness is because he likes you so much.
“could i get one more thing from you?” you ask, as he looks up from your phone.
“yeah. anythin’.”
“i’ve never been kissed in a firetruck before.”
bakugou feels like he’s dreaming. today was supposed to be a quiet day at the station. maybe saving a cat from a tree in the evening. paperwork from yesterdays fire across town. not you from the book office he went to a few days ago, returning to him with cake for his team and now standing in his truck in his jacket.
“is that right?” he doesn’t know how to sexy talk. fuck.
you nod, biting down on your lip. bakugou stuffs your phone in your trousers pocket and you gasp at his touch. he sits his hands on your waist.
“this okay?” he asks and you nod, like you’re being exposed to something holy.
“good.” then he leans down and kisses you.
a soft press of his lips on yours, then he’s nudging open your mouth. he tastes sugar immediately, you must have had one of those cupcakes you brought over. he backs you up against the window of the truck, his palms squeezing your waist in arousal. he doesn’t mean to moan into the kiss and you don’t mean to tug him down into you with your arms around his neck.
“i wasn’t fuckin’ expectin’ this today.” he whispers when he pulls away, lightly pecking your jaw so he can catch his breath.
it’s only your first proper conversation, he cannot press his cock into you or start groping you right now. but you’re staring at him with your eyes lazed, lips swollen. you tug a tuft of his hair to look him in the eyes.
“can i…,” you palm his cock, despite his thoughts. you’re delighted to find him as excited as you are, “can i suck you off?”
bakugou whines like a desperate puppy, “n-no, you can’t.”
“why?” you moan.
he looks over you, body hot and delicious.
“i can’t let you do that. not when i haven’t done anythin’ to you.”
also the fact he's at work and anyone can walk in but that just doesn't seem as important right now.
you're taken aback. these dating apps have your standards so low.
“oh, but i want to?” you say, squeezing him softly. he jolts in your palm, resting his forehead in the window beside you.
“no baby,” you feel yourself gush. baby? you’re this sexy firefighter’s baby? “we gotta get back to the rest. another time? i’ll eat your pussy, fuck you good too.”
his voice is raspy with arousal and you can only picture how this man fucks. hard and rough. slow and sweet.
“oh my god,” you whisper. this is exactly like your smutty books.
you’re about to drop to your knees when there’s a knock on the truck.
“guys! we wanna have a look in the truck too!”
it’s your friends, your two colleagues you came with.
bakugou pulls off you, swiping his fingers through his hair, gazing at you up and down.
“you good?” he asks.
you’re speechless, nodding slowly.
you remember to wipe your lip when he walks over to open the door. you’re about to moan aloud when you see him adjust himself in his trousers. then in come your two friends and a firefighter. the same red-headed one before.
your friends look at you first. bakugou can tell you three are having a conversation with your eyes alone.
your friends seem to win when you release a little smile, “shut up! look at the truck and we have to get back. we only have an hour lunch.”
when you do end up giving the jacket back to katsuki, it’s as if the tables have turned. now you can barely look him in the eye when that’s all he wants to do. i’ll eat your pussy, fuck you good too. you could start crying, you want him so bad.
“i’ll come by, give back your, err, tupperware.” he says, swinging his jacket over his shoulder.
“okay.” you whisper.
kirishima gives you three a toothy smile, “loved havin’ you girls come by. it’s gets boring round here just us guys.”
“hope you enjoy the cupcakes.”
“and sorry for the false alarm.”
“i’ll text you,” bakugou blurts and everyone looks at you two. eyes bulging out their heads.
“you got his number?” your friend nudges you. you swat her away.
“about the tupperware. to give it back.”
“it is my tupperware—,” now you nudge back your friend.
“yes, okay. bye now. we should have been back a while ago!
you pull your friends away to walk back to work.
“yn what the hell happened?”
“he asked for my number and we made out and i asked to give him head and he said no because he wants to eat me out instead. he said next time he’s gonna fuck me and eat me out.” you ramble, barely able to believe it yourself.
“i didn’t expect him to be so freaky.”
your friends giggle and gasp. they turn to each other.
“what the fuck! if it wasn’t for you, i would have got kirishima’s number!”
“i left you alone three times to get it!”
your friend groans.
your phone vibrates.
Katsuki: I meant what I said
Katsuki: But I should take you out before I do all of that
Y/N walked toward the reception desk with calm, careful steps. “Hi!” she greeted cheerfully. “I brought donuts for everyone.” She opened the boxes, and the sweet smell of sugar and glaze quickly spread through the office. Employees slowly gathered around her, first hesitant, then openly curious.
“Are you new here?” one employee asked.
Y/N laughed softly. “Oh no, I’m just visiting.”
She handed the receptionist a donut and offered another to someone standing nearby. “Your husband must be really lucky,” someone joked kindly.
At that, Y/N smiled warmly, her fingers absentmindedly rubbing small circles over her belly. “Oh,” she said sweetly, “I’m actually here to see him.”
That caught everyone’s attention.
“Your husband works here?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Which department?”
“Oh…” she thought for a moment. “He’s usually upstairs.”
Now the curiosity really started spreading through the office. There were plenty of men working in the company, but none of them seemed like the type who would have a wife like that. Someone whispered, “Maybe someone from management.” Another quietly said, “Whoever he is… that guy seriously won in life.”
Meanwhile, Y/N continued handing out donuts and chatting easily with everyone around her. She laughed, thanked people, asked how their day was going. It felt like sunlight had suddenly walked into the building.
That’s why the sudden silence that followed felt so strange.
The large doors at the end of the floor opened, and the CEO stepped inside.
The change in atmosphere was immediate. Conversations stopped, people straightened in their chairs, and a few employees quietly rushed back to their desks. He was known for being incredibly stoic, intimidating without even trying. Nanami kento.
No one had ever seen him show affection to anyone.
His sharp eyes scanned the office for a moment.
Then they landed on Y/N.
His entire posture shifted.
“Y/N.”
The deep voice cut through the room.
Y/N turned around, and the moment she saw him, her face lit up instantly. “My Love!”
She walked toward him as quickly as her pregnant belly allowed and wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. To everyone’s shock, the CEO immediately wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her securely like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice noticeably softer than anyone had ever heard it.
“I missed you,” Y/N said brightly. “And I brought donuts!”
Several employees stared in disbelief.
Then something even more shocking happened. He leaned down and kissed her—gently, naturally, like it was something he did every day. When he pulled away, his hand instinctively moved to her belly, rubbing it gently through the fabric of her dress.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“I’m good,” she replied. “The baby kicked a lot this morning though.”
His expression softened even more. Without hesitation, he crouched slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to her belly.
The entire office froze.
“Hey there,” he murmured softly to the baby before standing up again. He brushed a stray strand of hair from Y/N’s face and looked at her carefully. “Did you walk here?”
“I took a taxi,” she said proudly.
“Good,” he nodded. His arm slid naturally around her waist. “Did you eat yet?”
“Two donuts.”
“That’s not a meal.”
“I also had yogurt!”
He sighed like this was a very familiar conversation between them.
Meanwhile, behind them, the office employees stared like their brains had stopped working. One intern whispered, “That’s the CEO.” Another replied, “I know.” The first one continued in disbelief, “That’s his wife?” Someone else quietly added, “And she’s having his baby.”
They watched as the same stoic, untouchable CEO who terrified investors during meetings gently guided Y/N toward his office with a protective hand on her back. Before the door closed behind them, Y/N waved cheerfully at the stunned employees.
“Enjoy the donuts!”
The door shut.
Silence filled the office.
Finally, someone spoke the thought everyone had been thinking.
neighbor!dilf!sukuna x female!reader
wc. 5.5k
cw/tw. explicit sexual content, unprotective sex, vaginal sex, deep penetration, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, hair pulling & choking, size difference, nipple play, tits sucking, biting, teasing, rubbing, praise, light voyeurism, age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, shameless smut
a/n. as long as the month is not over, it’s still valentines :P
18+ mdni
➳ this work is part of THE PERFECT MATCH collection
“Darling, could you please make use of yourself and give this to the neighbor?”
Your mother shoves a plate full of watermelon slices into your hands before you can even complain. You blink at it—the juicy red chunks glistening under the afternoon sun—then glance up at her. She’s already turning away, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Ugh. Mom, seriously?”
She doesn’t even turn around, just waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder.
“Go now before they lose their crunch.”
Ever since you came home for summer break, your parents haven’t shut up about the five-year-old kid living next door. Baby Haru, as they call him. While you’ve never actually seen the kid, you've heard enough to know your parents have already mentally adopted him.
You sigh, adjusting the straps of your bikini top under your thin sundress. The backyard’s still too hot for sunbathing anyway, so you trudge through the house and out the front door.
The sun is relentless; heat presses down on your bare shoulders. The neighbor’s house looks very much the same as yours, just with a slightly messier lawn and a small bike tipped over near the porch. You shift the plate to your right hand so you can ring the doorbell.
The seconds stretch. You’re about to ring it again when the door swings open.
And holy shit.
The man standing there is—well, he’s not what you expected at all. He’s towering over you, broad-shouldered, with two horizontal line tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his black t-shirt. His hair is short, a pink-red like faded cotton candy, and his eyes—red and sharp—lock onto you with an intensity that makes your throat go dry.
You forget how to speak.
He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
You clear your throat, suddenly hyperaware of how short your sundress is and the fact that you’re only wearing a string bikini top underneath it.
“Oh! My mom sent me—I live next door. And, uh, these are for Haru,” you thrust the plate toward him. “Are you his brother?”
A slow smirk curls at the corner of his mouth, and you feel your face heat up instantly. His voice is deep and rough when he answers, “His father.”
Your brain short-circuits. You imagined the father to be some tired middle-aged dude with a beer belly and thinning hair, not a man who looks like he could pick you up with one hand and pin you against the nearest wall without breaking a sweat.
He takes the plate from your hand, his fingers brushing yours. “Thanks. Kid’s still sleeping, so…” His voice trails off, but he doesn’t move to shut the door.
He just stands there, watching you with those unsettling red eyes. Then he tilts his head a little after noticing how your mouth twitches like you still have something to say. The silence stretches heavy until you blurt out the first dumb thing that comes to mind.
“You look, uh—really young for a dad.”
The smirk returns, slower this time, as if he’s savoring your awkwardness.
“Old enough, actually,” he says, his voice dripping with something that feels like a challenge.
His gaze drags down your body, lingering on your bare legs before flicking back up. You swallow hard, fingers twitching at your sides like you don’t know what to do with them now that the plate is gone.
“O-Okay, well, enjoy the fruit!” you stammer, gesturing vaguely at the plate in his hands before taking a clumsy step back.
You spin on your heel so fast you nearly trip over your own feet. The weight of his stare burns on the back of your head the whole way across the lawn. Back inside your house, you slam the door a little harder than necessary, immediately pressing your back against it. Your heart is hammering against your ribs like it’s trying to escape. You press the heels of your hands against your cheeks—hot to the touch—and groan.
Your mother’s voice floats from the kitchen. “Did they like the watermelons?”
“Yeah,” you mutter, peeling yourself off the door. “Loved it.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon sunbathing while pretending not to replay that encounter in your head, but it’s useless. You’re sprawled belly-down on your towel, propped up on your elbows with a book splayed open in front of you. The same paragraph has blurred in and out of focus for the past twenty minutes, your brain too busy replaying the way his calloused fingers felt against yours.
Sukuna—the name your mother had offhandedly mentioned earlier—is so fucking hot. He and his son have been next door for three months, and you’ve been home for a while now, yet somehow you’d managed to miss him.
With a hot single dad neighbor, looks like your summer is far from being over.
The next afternoon, you’re halfway through reapplying sunscreen when your mom calls from inside the house. You groan before walking back inside. You catch your mother with her phone pressed to her ear.
“Sweetheart, Sukuna just called and he’s got an emergency at work and he needs someone to watch Haru for a few hours. Can you?”
“Why don’t you and Dad do it?”
“Because we are going out to grab something.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine.”
Ten minutes later, you’re standing at the neighbor’s door again, this time in denim cutoff shorts and a tank top. Sukuna answers before you can even knock, already shrugging on a jacket while Haru—tiny, messy-haired, and clutching a stuffed dinosaur—peeks out from behind his legs.
“He’s fed. If he gets hungry, jus’ feed him anything that he asks for,” Sukuna says, handing you his house key. His eyes slowly rake over you and your fingers tighten around the key. “You sure you can handle him?”
You tilt your chin up. “I babysat all through high school.”
Sukuna huffs a laugh and then he’s gone, the rumble of his motorcycle engine fading down the street.
You look down to Haru, who is looking at you with the most doll-eye looking set of red eyes you’ve ever seen. He has pink hair just like Sukuna, except ruffled and messy.
He tugs your hand immediately. “Wanna see my room?”
It turns out babysitting him is mostly building block towers and pretending to be eaten by his dinosaur toys. Haru’s a sweet kid, chatty and bright, and by the time Sukuna’s bike pulls back into the driveway, you’re sprawled on the living room surrounded by toys.
The front door swings open and Sukuna steps inside. His gaze lands on you first, on the sliver of skin showing from when your tank top rode up, before flicking to Haru.
“Dada!”
“Hey, little guy,” he mumbles, tossing his keys onto the counter. He turns to you. “Did he give you trouble?”
You laugh, gently prying Haru’s fingers from your hair.
“Haru? Oh, no—nope. He’s great.”
Sukuna hums, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the couch. His fingers hook on the neckline of his black t-shirt, peeling it off in one smooth motion. The fabric lifts, revealing taut muscle and ink-dark lines carved into his sunkissed skin.
Two segmented curve marks frame his chest and two bold line cuts vertically across his abdomen. His biceps flex as he stretches, the twin tattoos there flexing with them, and the black circles on his shoulders—dots centered like targets—draw your gaze upward. His body is unfairly sculpted for a man his age, all hard planes and coiled strength.
His jeans hang dangerously low on his hips as he disappears down the hallway, the sharp V-line abs cutting a path through your thoughts. You watch the flex of his lower back until he turns a corner and vanishes from your sight.
Haru tugs at the hem of your top, completely oblivious to your internal crisis, but you barely register it—too busy swallowing around the sudden dryness in your throat.
Sukuna returns in a fresh white tank top that clings to him like a second skin, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the thick lines on his biceps or the way his chest strains against the material.
Haru tugs harder, whining about showing you his favorite toy, but your eyes are glued to Sukuna as he strides back into the room. His tank top rides up when he bends to scoop Haru into his arms.
“Thanks for watching him,” Sukuna says. “I think he likes you.”
You shrug, trying to play it cool. “He’s easy to like, too.”
Sukuna’s gaze lingers on you a second too long.
“You should stay for dinner.”
The words roll off his tongue like an afterthought. Haru wriggles in his arms, whining about mac and cheese, and Sukuna adjusts his grip without breaking eye contact with you.
You should say no. You should go home, change out of these shorts that suddenly feel too tight, and pretend like the sight of Sukuna’s bare torso didn’t just sear itself into the back of your eyelids.
“Sure. If it’s no trouble.”
Haru cheers, wiggling out of his father’s grip to sprint toward the kitchen. You follow him, hyperaware of Sukuna’s presence behind you—the heat of him.
The kitchen is warmer than the rest of the house, filled with the faint hum of the fridge and the clatter of pots being dragged across the stove.
You help Haru get onto one of the bar chairs. “My Dada makes creamy mac and cheese!” He informs you very seriously, as if it’s classified information.
Sukuna snorts. “Don’t expose my secret like that.”
You lean against the kitchen island, arms folding loosely beneath your chest as you watch him move around the kitchen. He doesn’t rush but instead, moves with lazy efficiency.
The white tank top stretches across his back when he reaches up to grab a box from the cabinet. The fabric lifts slightly, revealing the strip of tan skin above his jeans waistband. Your eyes snag there before you can stop them.
“You always stare that obviously?” he asks without turning around.
Your stomach drops.
“I’m not staring.”
He glances over his shoulder, then raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”
Heat crawls up your neck. You push off the kitchen island, sitting on the empty bar stool beside Haru instead.
“So, how old are you again?” Sukuna asks while stirring the noodles. The steam from the pot curls around his forearms.
You glance up from where you’re helping Haru scribble on his drawing book.
“Twenty-two.”
Sukuna hums low. “College kid, then?”
“Yep. I’m just home for summer break.”
Haru nudges at you, completely uninterested in the adult small talk between you and Sukuna. “Draw me a dragon, please!”
You oblige, sketching a crude creature with too many teeth while Sukuna finishes cooking. The scent of butter and cheese fills the kitchen, thick and delicious. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Sukuna watching you—his gaze heavy and lingering on the way your fingers move over the paper. When you glance up, he doesn’t look away.
Dinner is then served. Haru is practically vibrating in his seat as Sukuna slides a steaming bowl of mac and cheese in front of him. The kid digs in immediately, barely waiting for it to cool. You take smaller bites, extremely aware of the way Sukuna leans against the island instead of sitting, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you both eat.
“Good?” he asks, though his eyes are locked on your mouth when you nod.
“Mhm…” You lick a stray fleck of cheese from your bottom lip. You see his jaw tighten. “Really good.”
As you eat, Haru chatters between bites about dragons and dinosaurs, blissfully unaware of the thickening tension between you and his father.
When the dishes are cleared—Sukuna insists on washing—Haru tugs at your hands again.
“Can we please watch a movie?”
You glance at Sukuna who only shrugs.
“Your call, kiddo,” he says while drying his hands on a towel.
Now, you’re wedged between Haru and Sukuna on the couch, some animated movie playing on the TV. Haru’s already half-asleep against your side. You shift carefully, trying not to wake him, and your thigh brushes against Sukuna’s. The contact sends a jolt up your spine—his leg is warm beneath the fabric of his jeans. He doesn’t move away.
The credits roll by the time Haru’s fully asleep. His soft snores puffing against your arm. You try to lift him, but Sukuna’s already reaching over you. His arm brushes your chest as he scoops the boy up effortlessly.
“I got him,” he murmurs. He’s so close you can smell the faint musk of his cologne mixed with something smokier.
You watch him carry Haru down the hall, his back flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt.
When he returns, the living room feels suddenly smaller. He doesn’t sit back down—just stands there, staring at you with that unreadable red gaze.
“You should head home,” he says, but his voice is rough.
You don’t move. “It’s still early.”
Sukuna exhales deeply, fingers flexing at his sides before he steps closer. His hand lands on the back of the couch, caging you in.
“You’re playin’ with fire, kid.”
You tilt your head up to meet his dead-on gaze.
“I’m not a kid.”
His smirk creeps slow. “No?” His free hand brushes your jaw, his calloused fingers rough on your skin. “Prove it, then.”
You don’t hesitate. Your hand fists in the front of his tank top, yanking him down until his mouth crashes into yours. He groans, the sound vibrating through your chest as his hands grip your hips. His tongue is hot and demanding, and you gasp when his teeth catch your bottom lip.
One of his hands slides up your thigh, fingers digging into bare skin where your denim shorts ride up.
“Fuck,” he mutters against your mouth, “you’ve been drivin’ me crazy since I first saw you.”
You let out a whimper when his thumb teasingly brushes the hem of your shorts.
He exhales sharply, his forehead dropping to yours for a fleeting second before he straightens.
“Go home,” he says, voice strained. “Before I change my mind.”
You’re still breathless when you slip out of the front door, the taste of him lingering on your lips. The night air does little to cool the heat prickling under your skin. You practically sprint across the lawn, your pulse hammering in your ears loud enough that you barely hear the cicadas buzzing in the trees.
The next day, you wake up feeling hot and tangled in your sheets, the memory of Sukuna’s hands on you playing on loop.
You groan, pressing your face into your pillow. “I am so fucked.”
The afternoon sun beats down mercilessly, the kind of heat that makes the smooth pavement shimmer. You peel off your sundress, letting it drop by the edge of the pool, leaving you in your skimpy bikini. The water glitters invitingly, and you dive in without hesitation, the cool shock of it stealing your breath for a second before you resurface to brush your hair up.
You don’t notice the shadow in the second floor window of the house next door.
Sukuna is leaning against the window frame with his arms crossed, intently watching as you glide through the water with lazy strokes. His fingers tap absently against his bicep. The angle is so perfect—the white slats of the fence do nothing to obscure the view of your back arching as you flip onto the lemon-shaped float.
Haru’s voice drifts downstairs, muffled. “Dada! I can’t find Mr. Scales!”
Sukuna doesn’t move. “Check under the couch,” he calls back, his voice low. His eyes stay fixed on you as you sink back into the water.
You’re completely oblivious to the fact that he’s watching you. Always been, actually, since you came home a few weeks ago.
The first time he saw you, it’s not during one of your sunbathing shows. It started when you were lounging on the hammock under the big oak tree in your backyard. There’s a book propped open between your thighs. Your leg is dangling off the edge to push yourself into a slow rocking motion. Your sundress—some flimsy, pale yellow thing—has ridden up past your thighs, revealing the smooth expanse of your skin beneath. His fingers still on the windowsill when you drag your fingertips absently along your thighs, tracing invisible patterns as you read.
Days later, he catches you again—this time in a bikini so small he’s surprised it’s legal. You’re stretched out on a towel with your ass in the air as you flip through a magazine. You wiggle your hips slightly to adjust your position, and he nearly cracks the mug in his hand.
By the time you knock on his door with that plate of watermelon slices, he’s already mapped up every inch of skin you’ve bared to the sun.
You tilt your head back to soak up the sun, water sluicing on your neck down between your breasts. Your fingers trail along the surface of the water, trying to make ripples.
“Dada!” Haru’s tiny fists pound against the bedroom door.
Sukuna exhales sharply before pushing away from the window just as you climb out of the pool. He catches one last glimpse of you wringing out your hair before he yanks the door open.
Haru blinks up at him, his dragon stuffy in his arms. “Found him!”
Sukuna ruffles his hair, forcing his voice to ever sound so steady.
“Good. Wanna help me make lunch?”
You’re halfway through a pint of ice cream when your phone buzzes—your mother’s name flashing on the screen. You scoop another spoonful into your mouth before answering, muffled by the mint chocolate chip.
“Yeah?”
“Sukuna just called,” she says, and you nearly choke. “Haru won’t stop asking about you. Apparently, you made quite the impression.” There’s a pause. “Go over there.”
You splutter, ice cream dripping onto your lap. “What—now? Mom, it’s like, seven PM. Where are you and Dad, anyway?”
The line clicks dead.
You stare at your phone screen with a scoff, then down at your pajama shorts and the melted ice cream.
Fantastic.
Minutes later, you’re standing on Sukuna’s porch again. This time, in tight leggings and a hanging crop top. The door swings open before you can even ring the doorbell.
Sukuna leans against the frame, one eyebrow arched.
“Took you long enough.”
You scoff, pushing past him into the house. “I was busy.”
“Oh, yeah?” His voice drops, rough against your ear as you pass. “Doin’ what?”
The air between you crackles—there’s a stupid, dizzying tension that makes your skin prickle. You ignore him, heading straight for the living room where Haru’s sprawled on the floor with crayons scattered around him.
“Hey, kiddo,” you greet him, dropping onto the carpet just beside him. “What’re we drawing?”
“Dragons eating dinosaurs!” he announces, showing a purple crayon into your hand.
Sukuna watches from the doorway. His gaze burns into the back of your neck, but you refuse to turn around.
Haru leans closer to you and whispers, “Dada says you’re pretty.”
“Really? When did he say that?”
“When you were in the pool earlier.”
Your face heats up. When I was in the pool?
Sukuna clears his throat sharply. “Bedtime, Haru.”
“No!” Haru immediately whines, clinging his arm to yours. “She just got here!”
“Now.” There’s no room for argument in Sukuna’s tone. “Say good night.”
You bite your lip, helping Haru gather his crayons.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
Haru pouts but lets Sukuna scoop him up, tiny arms looping around his neck. As they disappear down the hall, you hear Haru whisper, “Is she gonna be my new mom?”
Sukuna’s answer is too low to catch, but the thought alone makes you feel tense. You busy yourself with picking up stray crayons and markers.
When Sukuna returns exactly ten minutes later, the house is now too quiet. He stops behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him.
“He’s sleeping now.”
You turn slowly, tilting your head up. “Liar. You just put him down.”
Your breath hitches when he steps closer, backing you against the couch. His hands settle on your waist, pressing into bare skin where your crop top rides up.
“You’re such a tease, you know?” he whispers. “You’ve been teasing me all day—swimmin’ in that tiny fucking bikini.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
Sukuna hums, hauling you against him. His mouth crashes into yours, teeth and tongue and hot. You gasp when his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the couch. His hips slot between your legs, the hard press of him drawing a whimper from your throat.
“Fuck,” he grits out, almost biting down your neck. “Wanted this since you first strutted into my house.”
His hands are everywhere—under your top, his fingers now dragging over the swell of your breasts, palms scraping against your nipples until you arch into him with a gasp. You claw at his shirt, desperate to feel skin, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand. The other slides down your stomach until his fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings.
“You gonna be good for me?” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice is so rough-edged. As if he’s barely holding together.
Sukuna exhales sharply when he doesn’t hear your answer. He suddenly lifts you up then hauls you onto his shoulder like a sack of flour. You yelp, hands scrambling against the solid muscle of his back, but he doesn’t falter. He strides through the house, the stairs groaning under his weight as he walks them two at a time.
The bedroom door clicks shut behind you, then he presses the lock. He puts you down on the bed, the mattress swallows you whole. The sheets smell like him, something warm and faintly smoky. You barely have time to catch your breath before Sukuna’s already stripping off his shirt. His hands fumble on his belt next, the buckle clinking as he slide it free.
You prop yourself up on your elbows and he’s on you before you can speak—one knee sinking into the mattress beside your thighs as he fists the hem of your crop top.
“Take ‘em off.”
You scramble to take your clothes off but when it’s your leggings and panties you’re pulling down, Sukuna helps you by yanking it down in one swift motion. He tosses it somewhere on the floor.
His fingers immediately press into the inside of your thighs, spreading you open. “D’you like fucking old men?” His voice is rough, the words curling around your skin like smoke. His thumb brushes your slick folds. “Or is it just single dads that get you wet?”
You gasp when he presses two fingers inside without warning. “Fuck-”
“Answer me.” His fingers curl, dragging against your walls in a way that makes your toes curl.
You choke out a laugh. “You’re not that old.”
Sukuna grins. “Nah. I’m old enough.” His fingers pull out only to slide back in, deeper this time, his thumb rolls on your clit with every thrust. “Old enough to know exactly how to ruin you.”
You whine while arching into his touch, but he slows teasingly until you’re panting and writhing beneath him.
“You like single dads to fuck you so bad?” His other hand grips your jaw to force you to look at him. “Like the idea of me bending you over while my kid’s asleep downstairs, huh?”
The thought sends a bolt of heat to your stomach. You nod frantically and Sukuna laughs darkly.
“Thought so.”
His fingers vanish, replaced by the thick head of his cock dragging through the lips of your pussy. The rub of him is agonizing—just the tip and his length with the barest hint of pressure. He’s big, thick, and veiny, you can feel it throbbing. You whine, hips bucking up to chase the sensation but Sukuna only pins you down with a hand on your hips.
“Patience, princess,” he whispers. He circles your clit with the tip of his cock. “You wanna come already? That fast?”
You bite your lip so hard that you taste copper. “Stop teasing, please.”
He laughs low and low, the sound almost vibrating through your chest. His fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you wider as he drags himself through your folds again. The friction burns in the best way but it’s not enough—never enough.
“You gotta beg for it.”
You reach out for his cock but he swats your hand away.
“Nah-ah. Use your words.” His teeth graze your ear. “Tell me what you want.”
You groan in frustration as your arousal twists in your gut. “Fuck me. Please—just put it in.”
He hums as if considering but he doesn’t move. Instead, he presses the tip against your entrance, letting you feel the stretch for a fraction of a second before pulling back once more.
“I know you can ask better than that,” he taunts. “C’mon, princess. You gotta show me how bad you want it.”
You arch off the bed with another frustrated noise, your fingers scrabbling at his shoulders in irritation from all his teasing.
“I swear to god, if you don’t-”
His hand wraps around your throat. “Or what?”
The hint of challenge in his tone only presses the heat in your abdomen more. You gulp against his palm.
“Please,” you whisper. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”
Sukuna’s grip tightens just slightly. “Good girl.”
Finally, he pushes inside, the stretch burning in the best way. You haven’t had sex for a long time now so you can’t help but wince when he enters you. You gasp as he bottoms out in one smooth thrust. He doesn’t immediately move, he lets you adjust to his fullness.
“Shit,” he grits out. “You’re so tight.”
You roll your hips experimentally and Sukuna’s breath hitches. His tightening grip on your throat tells you everything you need to know.
“Move,” you demand.
Sukuna growls, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, your nails raking down his back.
“That’s it,” he groans against your ear. “Take it like a good girl.”
His thrusts are deep and punishing. Each one dragging and ramming against that sweet spot inside you until you’re seeing stars. His hand leaves your throat to grip your thigh, yanking it higher to fuck into you at a new angle.
“You close?” His voice is rough and strained.
You nod frantically, feeling your orgasm coil tight in your stomach. You look down and the sight nearly sends you over the edge. Sukuna’s cock is glistening with your slick. The obscene push and pull of his hips is making your pussy clench around him. The sound is filthy, wet squelch filling the room with every snap of his hips.
His hot mouth finds your hardened nipples and sucks on them. Tongue swirling and teeth grazing just enough to make you arch from the sensation. You tug on his hair as the sharp sting mingles with the delicious stretch of him inside you. He envelops your whole tit in his mouth and bites down.
“Oh… m’god..! Oh my god!” you whimper, your voice cracking as his thrusts become deeper and rougher.
Your fingers twist in the sheets, now knuckles white from the strain of holding on. Sukuna’s grip on your thighs tighten.
“Yeah?” he rasps, his breath hot against your neck. “That’s it, baby—let go.”
He puts a hand on your lower stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock pressing up inside your pussy. The pressure is dizzying that every thrust now comes with the added sensation of his palm pressing down.
You choke out a cry. Your back keeps arching off the bed as pleasure rips through you. “W-Wait! S’too much!”
Sukuna smirks when he looks at your pretty little face while you’re now practically a babbling mess beneath him. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. The headboard knocks against the wall with his every thrust that would’ve been mortifying if you could form a single coherent thought. But all you can do is gasp and moan while you struggle to hold onto something other than his sweaty arms and shoulders as he fucks you through oblivion.
“Come on, baby,” he grits out. “Squeeeezin’ me so goddamn tight!”
Sukuna leans in, his mouth crashing on yours in a messy and hungry kiss. You whimper into his mouth while looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His chest presses flush against yours until there’s no space left between you. The kiss turns filthy as he tongue licks the insides of your mouth as if mapping every inch.
He breaks the kiss with a chuckle. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?”
Without any warning, he suddenly pulls out and flips you on your stomach, the sudden change in position making you yelp. His weight settles over you while he pins you down to the mattress.
“Up,” he commands before giving your ass a sharp slap that echoed in the room.
You scramble to push yourself on your knees. And when you do, Sukuna doesn’t even give you time to adjust. His large hands spread you open, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your ass. His cock slides in straight away. You bite down on your lip to stifle a moan but he only tells you to be louder.
“I’m so close! I’m so- o-oh my fucking god! M’so close, Daddy!”
The words barely leave your mouth before Sukuna’s hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back. His breath is ragged against your ear, the slap of skin on skin drowning out the creak of the bedframe.
“D’you want Daddy to knock you up?” he growls in your ear. “Fill your tummy with my babies?”
“Yes! Yesyesyes, please!”
The words tumble out of your mouth, delirious and raw. Sukuna groans deeper, his hips stuttering as he pistons into you harder. You feel like you’re drooling—which you truly are. Sukuna’s ragged breaths, the creaking of the bed, your pitching moans—everything comes close together.
“I’m gonna-” You choke on the words, thighs trembling as the coil inside you snaps.
Sukuna’s grip on your thighs return, his fingers bruising as he fucks you through it while his rhythm begins to stutter when your walls clamp down around his cock.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmurs. “Take it. Take all of it, baby.”
His hips jerk erratically, then he buries himself to the hilt with a groan so deep it vibrates through your spine. Heat floods your insides, his cock pulsing as he spills into you. You moan at the overstimulation but he doesn’t stop—just grinds his hips slowly to work his cum deeper inside your swollen pussy.
When he pulls out, you whine at the sudden emptiness. Sukuna sighs deeply before his fingers spread you open, smearing the oozing cum between your folds.
You flop onto your back, breathless. Your chest heaves as you collapse onto the mattress, limbs tired and trembling. Sukuna looms over you as he shows you his fingers slick with his cum mingled with yours.
“Look at that,” he proudly says with smugness on his face. “All that fucking cream inside you and you’re still dripping.”
You watch as he brings his fingers close to your face. The scent of sex is thick in the air. You dart your tongue out and lick his fingers clean. The taste is both salty and bitter on your tastebuds. You release his fingers with a soft pop.
Sukuna drops beside you with a low groan, the mattress dipping under his weight. He turns his head, red eyes dragging over your wrecked form.
“Fuck,” he rasps as he wipe off the beads of sweat on your forehead. “Look at you.”
You shiver when his fingers trail lower, tracing the bite mark around your areola. His touch is oddly gentle now, a stark contrast to the way he’d just fucked you raw.
"You good?" he asks, his voice rough like gravel.
You nod, throat too dry to speak.
Sukuna hums, rolling onto his side so he can face you fully. His hand settles possessively on your hip, fingers splayed wide.
"Gon’ be feelin' me tomorrow," he murmurs, dragging a fingertip down the inside of your thigh. "Every time you walk, every time you sit-"
"Shut up," you mutter, but your cheeks burn.
Sukuna lets out a deep laugh. His fingers trace idle patterns on your hipbone, calloused skin scraping lightly. The aftershocks of your orgasm still hum under your skin, leaving you almost limp and stupidly pliant beneath his touch.
“You’re real pretty when you’re all fucked out,” he whispers, thumb brushing the dip of your waist.
You roll your eyes and turn around away from him. He pulls you closer to him, curling his body against yours. His slow breathing fans across the back of your neck before he presses a long, soft kiss on your shoulder.
“You know, for an old man, your stamina is fucking crazy.”
Sukuna’s arm tightens around your waist, dragging you even closer to him. He huffs against your shoulder.
You were to marry the King of Curses - everyone seemed terrified as you walked into that carriage, leaving your home forever, a princess of another nation. However, when you meet Sukuna you wonder if there's more, if there could be a love, some call you soft, a little romantic - Sukuna calls you a 'dumb fucking bunny'. Can you handle his cruelty and his concubines, or will the sweet, loving Knight Choso - your royal guard - win your heart instead?
pairings - King! Sukuna x F! reader x Knight! Choso
warnings - angst, mean true form sukuna, sweet Choso, stomach tongue use, kuna has two cocks, munch Choso, cameos by your fave jjk creators, creampie, sleeping around, concubines, use of angel from Cho, bunny from Kuna, breed kink, pregnancy, jealousy, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, bittersweet end- 11.6k WC
this was a comm for my sweet bb who I LOVE - @martianzmars with no notes aside from make it true form Kuna/ choso !! ty to @uhnosav for helping me with ideas and @yenayaps for letting me make her a concubine hehe- ily bbs!!
Being Ryomen Sukuna’s newlywed – the four armed king of curses – was certainly not for the weak.
You were a sweet girl, a little shy, emotional at times some say – so to find out that you’re being given to Sukuna and leaving your own kingdom was nerve wracking to say the very least. You loved being a princess, loved your people, and you have heard horror stories of the man you are to wed.
He is the one who burns down villages as if it’s some past time, such a powerful sorcerer he could kill anyone who dared to even irritate him. Short tempered, some say he is cruel, it was widely known he was a monster to be feared, yet he was in need of the perfect ‘bride’ and that was apparently you.
Everyone back home just looked at you with this sorrowful gaze when you went in that carriage, preparing for your long journey, your best friends were tearful, promising to see you. Your parents tried to make you feel better, to bring up perhaps he is not as terrible as they say, as if it’s some sort of consolation that perhaps he doesn’t eat people, he just kills them.
Oh joy, truly.
You’re a human with no sort of powers, but you’re still from a family of sorcerers, even if you didn’t develop any skills or energy from that, thus your bloodline apparently was all Sukuna needed. He was notorious for having brides just ‘come up missing’ as in they ran the fuck away, you only hope you’ll be lucky enough to get out if you ever try to leave.
Today was the day you were to marry him.
The day you lose the small little freedoms you have.
The wedding was a quick ceremony rather than anything too drawn out, the King apparently did not enjoy many strangers in his home – a massive, sprawling estate where all seem to either fear or desire him. He had at least seven concubines who were washing him up before he was to lay with you tonight, his brand new bride who he hardly grunted a word to.
You had your lady in waiting to prepare you for this in your finest, clad in a pretty thin gown that ties at the waist, your hair soft and flowing, framing your face when you look in the mirror at yourself. Back where you’re from, men may have mistresses but it was more of a secret thing, not flaunted all damn over like him with his harem, you swear he had each of his four hands on one of them all night.
Feeling homesick and nervous, you gasp when he’s let in by his assistant, Urame, they seem rather kind though very quiet and somewhat mysterious. You’re clutching your gown and swallowing when Sukuna eyes you – four of those red eyes, the top two were bigger, brighter ruby, the other to slanted up as if he were smiling, which his lips did curve slightly.
“Ah, here’s my bride,” he steps in holding a dish of sake that he downs in one gulp, looking at your attendant and holding it out, she blinks for a moment before walking over and taking it. “Out.”
“Y-yes your majesty!” She runs off so damn fast your hair gets whooshed by the wind from her movement. You curiously look at Sukuna now, heart hammering in your chest when the door shuts behind him.
It’s just you and a giant, seven foot tall man, wrapped in white and purple robes tied with gold, just sauntering over to you. He’s so heavy your fucking dresser knocks on the wall, each movement of his bare feet on your floor shaking everything in the damn room, like it’s somehow just too small for him.
Or are you just that trembly, that terrified, that you think the damn ground is shaking?
“Hmm…” he walks to you now, hands slipping down a trail between your breasts, smirking at you, long tongue lapping his lips. “The pretty little princess everyone was yapping on and on about, huh? Let’s see you, then.”
King Sukuna unceremoniously tugs the robes off, but when he does see you naked, your breasts gently bouncing from the removal of the fabric, the curve of your hips, he’s paused, pink lips parted. Gaze traveling across your curves ever so slowly, stopping at your waist, then dipping lower, to the apex of your thighs, which were pressed tightly together.
“Ah, a frightened little brat, tsk,” he clears his throat, trying to not let his voice break. Sukuna loves women, and he loves beautiful women – but it’s never happened that he had nothing to say, his throat gone dry, as you stand there nervously, he ignores whatever the fuck effect you have and smirks at you instead. “Aww, are you gonna talk, bunny?”
“Bunny?” You ask finally, he chuckles.
“So you can speak,” he slips your robe down your shoulders, pressing you against your vanity, so fucking tall he overtakes you completely, the entire room is just a blur when he’s close. “Do you know what to do tonight?”
“Um… we are to make babies…” He chuckles again, two of his hands gripping tightly at your waist as the others almost gently brush your hair back. “Consumate the marriage.”
“Yeah all that shit, but do you think you can really take me?” He’s grinning now, two hands gripping your ass and squishing it. “Lookin’ like a scared little bunny right now, hah. I doubt you could.”
“I can,” you don’t like challenges, not at all, you untie his robes then. “I know what we will do tonight. It’s good of you to leave your women for a few.”
Sukuna raises a brow at you – a slutty eyebrow. “Your country doesn’t have them, right?” You shake your head, swallowing with an audible little gulp you hope he can’t hear.
“Concubines? No, the do not…” He’s too close, running a long tongue across his lower lip, studying your body with a tilt of his head and a lazy, languid look.
“We need many, many heirs, to succeed me. Are you really already jealous of them?”
“No!” You gasp when his robes part, and his huge body is revealed. “I’m n-not and… oh…”
Sukuna laughs at your expression, the way your cheeks and ears heat up with embarrassment, looking away for a moment before he practically demands your attention, cocks just swinging.
Sukuna runs his hands down his slutty ass waist, before two rest right there on his ribcage, dark chuckle vibrating through him so much you almost physically feel it. “Have you never seen a man?”
“No, they can’t be… this massive on average and… there’s two!?”
He throws his head back in cruel laughter as your eyes travel down the expanse of his toned, muscular stomach, covered with black tattoos, Sukuna tilts his head as you study them, two of his hands slipping the rest of his robes off. Nestled just below his navel – with a slutty trail of hot pink hair – was a second mouth, complete with its own long tongue that flicks out to taste your tummy.
“Ah! What are you doing?” You glare so pretty he leaks more messy pre down his mean red tips, tongue drooling across your skin, you tremble at the sensation of him.
“You taste sweet,” he grins now. “Maybe I’ll eat my bride, huh?”
“Do you… really…” You can’t think about it, if your husband actually fucking eats his enemies. You shove that back out of your mind and look at the wide mouth that’s drooling saliva, the tongue now flicking the air. Below that were not one, but two thick, heavy cocks hanging there stacked on each other.
Two!?
You don’t even think you could take one they’re so huge, both already hard and thickening underneath your gaze, flushed a deep, blush pink at the tip, where they jutted out from coarse pink pubic hair. You can’t possibly do things with two – you’ve barely heard what sex is, and what you did study mentioned nothing about this!
“Do I what?”
“I… if you…” He’s dying over how shy you are to say it, how you’re stammering all cute and nervous, fiddling with your fingers nervously in front of yourself.
“Answer, brat.”
“Eat people?”
He seems to find you really amusing, biting down on his lip while his stomach tongue decides to lap up the slick of the sweat sheening your skin, humming softly. “Do I eat people, you’re asking that?””
“I w-wanna know,” you take a breath then, trying to gather enough courage to continue on.
“I sure do,” you try not to gasp, to act so afraid, but it’s hard not to, when he admits it outright – those sharp teeth in a grin. “Not so brave now, are we, bunny?"
You take a step back, your eyes catch the nestle of pink hair over his huge, veiny cocks – you can swear this man is just getting harder looking down at you. Sukuna takes one of your little hands in his, it practically swallows your own, taking that hand and putting it on one of his cocks, it barely wraps it at all.
“Scared?”
“N-no,” yes you are – that thing… or things are going to destroy your cunt. “I’m uh… a virgin though.”
“Of course you are,” they always made sure all of Sukuna’s women were – even the concubines, when he actually enjoyed a slutty woman. But, he ended up making them all slutty anyway. “Stroke one, if your hand can fit.”
It barely can circle one massive cock, your fingers don’t even meet, stroking up and down slowly, eyes locking up to him now. “Like this?”
“Mhm, fuck,” you swirl your thumb around his tip, two of his hands grip your tits, squishing them. “Look at these tits, I can’t wait to see them full of milk, bearing all my heirs.”
“Milk? Oh! Y-yes,” something about that makes your tummy clench, when he suddenly lifts you up, and your hands cling to his body. Two hands under your ass, two on your waist. “Wait, m’not ready!”
“You think I could even get one of my cocks inside right now?” He rolls his four red eyes and carries you to your bed, unceremoniously plopping you down on it. His blunt black nails dig into your skin as his face lowers.
Will he kiss you?
You wonder it for a moment before you feel a filthy wet lap against your clit, making you jolt – two huge hands pinning your wrists above your head, one roughly kneading your breast, and the fourth sliding down your side to grip your thigh, forcing your legs apart, his tongue slipping into your unused hole, earning it just quivering around the huge wet muscle.
“Oh m-my… you’re… ah!” Your head falls back, he laughs all breathy, hand kneading the softness of your breast, palms rough against your skin.
"Look at me when I touch you," he commands, his voice gruff, vibrating his chest as his heavy weight hovers over you. You’re left utterly at his mercy. “Your cunt is too tiny, too pathetic, she can’t take me.”
“She can, ngh!” You’re already split open when Sukuna's thick tongue travels inside your messy hole, curving up just so in your walls. You're gasping out for a breath, wrists still pinned so you can't move. “Ouch! Hey!”
“Hmm,” he tastes it then – your innocence on his tongue, moaning as the copper hits. Sukuna does love blood, pulling back with it dripping crimson. “Took care of that, didn't we?”
“I um…” This monster just took your virginity with his stomach tongue. It takes you a moment to register that, the prick of pain fading when his lips wrap your nipple, eliciting a ragged little moan.
Sukuna swirls his pink tongue around your puffy nipple until it's glossy with his saliva, looking up under those sooty lashes and sucking harder, capturing it in his hot mouth. Your body trembles as he sucks, tongue still fucking in and out of your hole, making sure she can take at least one of his cocks. One of his hands is kneading the other breast, fingers brushing your nipple.
“Dumb bunny has pretty tits,” you scoff but it's cut off by a moan. Broken and desperate when Sukuna's tongue starts sloshing in and out of you. “Oh, and a messy little cunt.”
“Messy what now – Ngh!”
He pulls back to suck your other tit in his mouth, sucking hard then, the hand on your thigh releases its grip, one of those twenty thick fingers pressing against your slick, swollen entrance, where the remnants of your innocence has been licked clean. He circles it once, twice, teasing you and chuckling at your arching hips.
“You’re that slutty already, from the first lick? More of a slut than my concubines,” you try to glare, but then he sinks one knuckle-deep, such a different pressure than the pink tongue on his stomach, you’re trembling as he crooks it up and down, the hint of his nails making you panic. “I won’t hurt your pretty lil’ cunt, relax brat.”
“W-won’t be able to take you,” you gasp out desperately, shaking violently when his finger drags through your squelching wet cunt, sliding another and smirking cruelly, his cocks leaking – the upper one drooling white pearly pre down on the bottom.
“Can’t even talk, hah – that’s good,” Sukuna’s never felt something this tight, you’re clamping right down, the faint trickles of blood still flowing down his fingers, his tongue lapping at your little clit. “Hah, you fuckin’ love this.
“Just… do it,” he snorts now, pressing up higher and higher until you’re about to shatter, spasming right around his messy digits, the callouses dragging against your inner walls. “M’gonna…”
“Not yet brat,” he yanks them out, smirking at the twitching, slutty little hole that winks at him, two fingers shoved in your mouth, chuckling at you. “Suck them clean, be a good bunny.”
“Mmph,” you can’t help but obey, almost choking with how deep those fingers go, feeling him position one of his huge cocks at your entrance, the pink tips darting through the mess, up and down, over and over. Your eyes roll back when he presses a tip in, and then pulls back, nudging the other. “You’ll n-never fit…”
“Sure I will,” Sukuna shoves your thighs up high, pressing them against your breasts with two rough hands, as the others continue to toy with your nipples, pinching them between his thumbs and fingers, chuckling as he feels your slick. “Oh there you go, keep making that mess f’me.”
You’re so close from earlier that everytime his cockheads brush your clit you twitch, helpless underneath the man that weighs at least three hundred pounds of pure fucking muscle. He’s so big everywhere it’s overwhelming, the way his four eyes study you intently, the sounds of his tongue darting and slobbering all over your stomach, as if he just wants to coat you in spit.
He drags his stomach tongue down the center of your ribcage, flicking your clit again, when one of his cocks starts pressing in. He moans, gripping you so tight you can hardly breathe, shoving your thighs until you’re helpless and folded in half, laughing as he shoves his tip back inside.
“Can you take me brat, or should we call it a night?” He taunts, raising a dumb slutty brow, mouth tongue dripping spit on your body.
He’s asking if you want to fuck.
He may not seem like it, but you feel it for a moment, that maybe this insane, cannibal murderer at least asks before taking what is ‘rightfully his’. You could say no and let him run off to his concubines, but your body does want it, hole pulsing around nothing, just beggin’ for more, even though you’ve never felt a stretch like that fat tip inside your walls, you crave more.
“I can,” your words are soft and sweet like you are, Sukuna should be annoyed by that fact, he likes his women a little mean, and you’re a sweet little thing. But he just finds his cocks are leaking more, throbbing more, he looks at your lips for a moment too long.
Sukuna doesn’t kiss people, but your lips are swollen from where your teeth have bit down hard, little indentations he runs his thumb over, feeling the give of your needy hole as he sinks in. You’re stretching to fit him, soaking wet to the point he’s able to shove half in one go, just that alone is almost bottoming out, the other cock gliding against your stomach.
Messy trails of white pool along your waist as his cock moves in and out, deeper and deeper and he just fucking watches you with those four eyes, you swear the two bottom ones are black right now. For once he’s not grinning or chuckling, he’s lost in the sight of his cock inside your body, the way it’s disappearing.
“Made to take your King, aren’t you?” He demands, fucking into you harder, deeper, until he bruises your cervix, you’re crying out, your head falling back against the satin pillows. “That’s it, take my cock, bunny can’t fuckin’ help herself.”
He’s evil, terrifying –
His cock feels amazing.
It’s gliding easier as the sheer size and stretch alone has your cunt just quivering, so goddamn tight the King of curses has to pause and suck in a breath, he looks down to where his veiny cock is gliding in and out, your puffy lips moving around it. He groans out, slamming deep so his curved tip presses in your cervix, his other cock twitching and needy.
Sukuna takes your hand and eases your thighs down just enough that you thumb the pre on his upper cock. “That’s it, learning so fast – f-fuckin’ made to be bred by your king.”
You’re too fucked out now to argue or say anything – all you can do is moan when he’s got you closer, fucking your circled fist and your cunt. “Close, close!”
“Hah, already know that? Did you touch yourself before tonight, slutty bunny?” You just weakly nod, and Sukuna moans at that thought. “You’re not allowed to again unless I am here, unless I tell you.”
Sukuna slams into you harder, your vision darkens and there is a haze, you barely suck in a desperate breath when he presses and rolls his hips, your thighs trembling on either side of his hips. You feel the power as he moves over you, cock pummeling you, hips snapping and making the squelch and smacking echo in his chambers.
“That’s it, soak my cock like a little whore,” you’re so not, but something about what he says fucks you up. “Next I’ll take your ass – I’ll be the first for all your holes. Make you suck your own release off my cock.”
“Y-you’re… I… insane I…” Sukuna laughs and starts rhythmically pumping his cock with mean smacks off his hips, muscles bunching and moving underneath his tattooed skin. “F-fuck…”
“Cum then,” he huffs, heavy balls slapping against the ass he’s threatening to fuck, coated with your slick. “Lemme feel it, hah – that’s it…”
The pressure is unbearable in your tummy, making you cum harder than you ever have fingering yourself. You’re screaming out and your hands fall, no longer stroking and leaving his cock to glide on your skin. He uses his hand tongues to lick your nipples while his cock inside you twitches, feeling your desperate, milking spasms from the orgasm ruining you.
“Ah!” You’re drooling, eyes rolled back as he ruins you, your first time and you’re gushing, squirting as his other cock causes friction between your folds. “Too much, too much!”
“You can take it,” he smacks your clit with his other cock, spit from his tongue making it glide easier, pausing and sucking in a breath. “Are you ready for me to fill you, bride? Put all my heirs in your messy, slutty hole? Hah are you squirting just thinking about it?”
“Am I… nghh!” You cum again, but this time Sukuna cums with you, and fuck he cums a lot.
He groans and leans low, still not kissing you even though the psycho has his hand mouths on your tits, his stomach mouth licking the very air around you, his teeth bite your neck so hard it draws blood. You desperately cry out, head falling back, weakly whining at the sensations rushing through you, cunt still spasming as you feel his release, his other cock spurting ropes on your waist.
“Take all of my seed, that’s it,” he’s mumbling now, a warm, thick gush of white pouring inside your gummy walls. You’re so weak you can’t move, he chases his release and feels his own cum leaking from your abused hole, dripping down onto the ruby satin sheets beneath you. “You took so much.”
“Mngh,” you’re barely able to form syllables now, Sukuna leans back and pulls his dripping wet cock out, watching your pussy push his milky seed out of it, his stomach tongue licking your body up, tasting his own release and groaning.
“Just look at all that mess,” his voice is raspy, soft laugh mixed with a little whine, seeing the sight of you. Sukuna reaches down, swiping a long, thick finger through the slick mixture of his cum and your juices, before bringing it to your lips. “Clean it up, bunny.”
“Clean it…” He shoves his digits in your mouth, your lips wrap them, bobbing up and down as he smirks, pulling back and biting the other side of your neck, drawing just a bit of blood, blossoming crimson against your skin.
“Mmm, take it like you’re meant for it, that’s good,” he laughs softly, pulling off you and standing, covered in your arousal and his sweat. “I’ll have babies inside you soon, body was made to take them.”
“You’re crazy,” you barely whisper, eyes lidded.
“Already fucked out?” He laughs again, gathering his robes, you blink rapidly now.
“Not fucked out… um just sleepy mmm…”
“I sleep alone,” you frown a bit, he throws his robes on, tying them and eyeing the mess he made of you, you’re littered in bite marks, bruises, hickies, white still trickling from your cunt into your inner thighs. “Aww, did you think we’d cuddle? How precious.”
Your heart hurts then, a deep ache fills you, leaning up on your elbows, so sore you wince, feeling split open. “You’re meant to lay with your wife, not your concubines.”
“I don’t sleep with them either,” he smirks now, leaning over you, barring you with those four arms as you sink into the bed. “Don’t get ideas in your pretty little head about me, your village is safe, your parents will live, as long as you serve me, and give me my heirs.”
“That’s it?” You mumble, hurt as you look at his lips. “Just heirs?”
Did you think too much into the sex? Because it felt good?
“What else is this?” He asks, tilting your head. “Think I’ll make love? I took it easy because you can’t take cock yet, just wait until you’re ready.”
Sukuna grips your chin and smirks, you yank back now. “You’re as cruel as they say you are.”
“Hah, you don’t fuckin’ know how cruel I can be, brat,” he lets you go, looking back over his shoulder. “Hold your legs up, it’ll keep that cum inside.”
*****
Sukuna is cruel, you realize it in the weeks of being his bride, when you have to see him with his harem of women, they’re all over him aside from one, who smiles at you, she’s very friendly and doesn’t touch on him. In fact you’ve seen her throw shit at his head, scream at him, you quite likee her – Concubine Sienna.
She has come to you and assured you they do nothing, it’s not what a concubine should do – but Sienna was a little different.
“Why the fuck are you here?” She demands when Sukuna comes and plops down in her bed. “Get out.”
“I’m your fucking King!??!” She scoffs, brushing her hair and eyeing the mirror. “I require a massage.”
“That’s all you’ll get,” she grimaces in irritation, straddling his hips and pressing onto his back. “Why are you here, you dumb fucking king?”
“I should behead you, I would if your hands weren’t so good,” Sukuna moans as she works the knots out. “You’re all my concubines, what’s changed?”
“Everything, you’re married, and I love her, so you won’t even get a hand job from me,” Sukuna sighs, rolling all four eyes while Sienna massages his back. “Don’t you like her?”
“I… she’s…” For once Sukuna is flustered, but he shoves it down.
He can’t think this way.
“She’s?”
“I enjoy her pathetic, cry baby personality I suppose, and her cunt,” Sienna rolls her eyes, hopping off. “What sort of half ass fucking massage was that!?
“Go back to your wife. Now.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, I’m the-”
“King of curses,” she flicks her gaze to him. “Go see your wife.”
Sukuna does not listen – he really should have, but instead he lives like he always has, he lets his concubines – aside from the bratty Sienna – bathe him, kiss on him, service their King. He can’t stop his mind from drifting off to you however, every time he’s got you in his chambers he’s finding more ways to push cum inside of your hole.
Sukuna’s teasing your ass with spit and fingers stretching it, cock ruining your cunt with every movement of his hips. You’re always a squirting, gushing little mess, he won’t admit how much he loves it. He has never eaten you out with the mouth on his face, never kissed you, but his stomach tongue just loves lapping up your cunt, and your ass.
Sukuna cums inside of you any time, determined to have his wife carry his heirs – but you start to feel it.
Alone.
You’re alone.
Standing up and leaving every fucking night, dragging you to the meetings in that throne room, where you have to watch him plot his fucking massacres. He has you ride his cock right on his enormous throne, two hands on your ass, two on your hips, just lifting and using you.
“Just a fuck toy, hah aren't you? Wanna be my favorite,” he bounces you up and down, the mess of his multiple loads from both cocks dripping and sticking to your robes. “Love when I use you.”
You're not allowed to share an opinion on anything, for being the ‘Queen' you have no power, no say. Sukuna only calls you in his chambers to fuck you, then makes sure Urame takes you back to your own. He has never hurt you but emotionally it starts to take its toll - not one kiss even at your wedding, always sleeping alone.
“Are you all right, my lady?” Your sweet guard Sir Choso Kamo asks one day after you rush out of the baths crying.
Sukuna had all of the women in there – aside from Concubine Sienna – naked in the baths as he lounged. He had the audacity to grin at you, inviting you over with a crook of his fingers.
“Come join us, wife, let the concubines teach you how to suck cock.”
You'd rushed away after cussing him out and him laughing– no you couldn't just suck him, those damn cocks were huge. The concubines were all giggling too, and you hated them. Hated Sukuna.
“I'm fine Sir Kamo,” you whispered, he had frowned and leaned to swipe a tear, giving you both pause. “Sir?”
“I'm so sorry,” he jerked his hand back like it was on fire, rushing away.
“My lady,” Urame came to speak to you, and frowned a bit as they saw your expression. “Your friends will be visiting this week.”
“Oh thank goodness,” this was what you needed, to see them, though you couldn't help but look at Sir Choso's retreating frame curiously.
His touch felt so…
Gentle.
*****
“You cannot do this!” it's been three weeks married to your monster of a husband when you finally speak up. He's so cruel he intends to destroy a village because they made a statue of him he deems ugly.
“Yes I fucking can,” you stomp right up to him, head falling back to look at the giant man with angry red eyes. “I'll do anything I want.”
“I am your wife!”
“You’re my wife all right,” Sukuna grips your chin tightly, chuckling as he studies you, four red eyes narrowed. “That means you listen, obey me, bear my children.”
“That’s all it means to you!?” Two of his huge hands clamp on your face, holding you immobile, a third hooks into the silk of your robes, tugging your hips flush against his own. You could feel the lines of those two hard cocks, as if he’s excited by your argument, even through the layers of your robe.
“Do I need to fuck you dumb so you can’t talk?” You scoff now, shaking your head at him, shoving until he lets you go. “Go wait in my chambers, I’ll deal with you then.”
“No! I’m tired of this,” you blink back tears and Sukuna pauses, before scowling at you. “You can’t just kill a village because you’re cranky!”
“YES I can! I’m the fucking KING what part are you missing!?” You shove past him and stomp off. “Where are you going, brat?”
“None of your business! Where do you go all the fucking time?” You turn and scowl at him. “You think I’m not friends with some of your concubines?”
Sukuna frowns then – if he’s honest, he’s hardly been able to enjoy them since you got here, and his favorite concubine won’t do anything but talk shit to him lately. Yet he sure wasn’t gonna tell you that, you already had an irritating effect on him that he truly couldn’t stand.
“So what if you are? You’re my wife, it doesn’t matter-”
“It does matter! Maybe I’ll go get concubines.”
“You can’t!?”
You rush off, he grabs your arm with one of his huge hand, tugging you against his hard body, wrapping two arms so you’re pinned to him. “Leave me alone.”
“I’ll make you feel good, since you’re a needy, dumb little bunny,” his huge hand presses against your tummy, the warmth spreading through the silken layers of your robes, making you falter for just a moment. Body betraying you by responding. “Get your mind off this nonsense, thinking you can tell me what to do.”
“I thought you’d learned to care for me,” he pauses, your breaths come faster, tears slipping from your eyes freely, sniffling as the emotions hit. “You do not.”
“You think I care for anyone?” His voice is cruel, his laugh is even worse – were you truly so lost in pleasure you thought Sukuna was a caring person? It’s horrible what he makes you feel, what he puts you through in that moment. “I’ve let you run this fucking palace without any rules, maybe it’s time I lock your ass up, huh?”
“Fuck you,” a hand grips your chin meanly, you scowl right at him.
“Bunny has a mouth on her, huh?”
“You don’t even know me, you don’t even try, all you do is kill people then fuck your harem, I’m done.”
“You don’t get to leave.”
“I know, I’ll stay, but I’ll do what you do,” you yank free, turning and swiping your own tears. “Fuck people, that’s all you do – fuck people and throw tantrums like a little bitch!”
“Like a what!?!?” Sukuna looms so tall – all seven feet of him scowling down, walking until you bump right into the wall, four arms barring you. “You have no sense of fucking self-preservation, do you?”
“Gonna kill me? Go ahead,” you take a huge hand and put it to your throat, squeezing his long fingers around your delicate neck. “Snap it if you want, you can get a new bride, right? One who is fine with you slaughtering people? No, you can go do what you always do, but don’t expect me to sit idly by.”
“So you want to fuck people?" his laugh is harsh, jaw so tense you see veins pressing out along it, you get the tiniest sense of fear then, Sukuna is a powerful sorcerer, seven foot tall and a murderer, and you’re talking shit.
But you swallow and then raise your chin. “What are you gonna do? Try and stop me? We have one sided loyalty.”
“Fine then, I’ll let you,” you blink then.
“What?”
Sukuna grins, this insane grin that bares all his teeth, leaning low so he overshadows everything around you. "Mmm, sure, then I'll fuck you in front of my entire court, let them all know what a slutty wife I have when she squirts all over both my cocks.”
“You will not,” you laugh then, a meaner sound then you’re used to. “You’re so full of shit ‘my king’.”
“Am I? I'll show every single person in this palace who you belong to, make you cum right in front of your little lover,” your body reacts even as your mind is whirling, screaming at you to stop rebelling, but how can you? “Should I kill anyone who fucking touches you?”
“You’re so stupid!”
“Stupid, you foolish little mortal,” he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, tickling you and making you tremble. "Think I won’t? Put so many babies inside you, you’ll be too full of me to do anything.”
“You have me for now,” Sukuna glares. “Until I find away to never see you again. And you can have your concubines and your violence.”
“Oh bunny, I will go out tonight and burn that village you love so much to the ground,” your eyes fill with tears. “Should bring you with me.”
“I hate you,” your whisper hits him, Sukuna has never felt whatever this is, he’s used to being hated, he relishes in it, but to hear it from your mouth fucks him up. “Let me go.”
You rush away, leaving Sukuna alone, clenching his fists, that night you don’t come to his chambers, and you avoid him. Even when he bangs on your door. When Urame says he wishes for your presence, you lock yourself away for days until your friends arrive.
You will not let him treat you this way.
*****
“Ah, she exists,” he sits there bored on his throne days later with a half naked concubine on each thigh, one painting his fucking nails and the other cleaning his goddamn sandals. “What do I owe this pleasure?”
“I am simply asking for time to spend with my close friends,” you hate him but you do need his permission. You feel Sir Kamo tense behind you, taking in the sight of Sukuna and all the other women. “If you would be so kind as to give me a couple of days with them.”
“Hmm, should I allow it?” You scowl, Sukuna crooks two long fingers, beckoning you. “Come, bunny, service me and I'll consider it.”
“Service you!?” He grins, even his dumb stomach mouth grins, peeking beneath his open robes. “I'll do no such thing.”
“Simply kneel and kiss my ring, it's simple wife,” you swallow nervously. “Unless you'd like me to burn down your home town for insubordination?”
“I hate you,” the concubines gasp, whispering. “I hate all of you.”
“Your majesty!” They're whispering, aghast by your attitude, but Sukuna just laughs instead, tilting his head.
“Kiss my ring or my cock, you decide bunny,” he eyes you as you walk, so beautiful in your robes his throat goes dry. If he wasn't Sukuna he'd mention just how pretty you are today. But he was the king, and such things were not meant for him to spill. “Which cock do you choose?”
“Neither,” your answer amuses him, you snatch up one of his huge hands and kiss his ruby ring, raising a brow. “Satisified – ah!”
Sukuna has already used one to drag you against him, right between his thighs, you shove back and glare, the hints of fresh nail polish filling your senses. “Mmm, don’t you miss my cocks inside you?”
“I don’t,” your answer has him glaring, teeth bared, hand enclosing so tightly on your waist you can’t breathe. “Don’t you just put your cocks inside all of them?”
“So what if I do?” You gasp now, hurt written across your features, making him fucking furious that you have that effect. “You won’t come near me, will you? I need heirs, and my wife is failing her fucking duty, maybe I should have her beheaded?”
“You’d… I…” Your tears well up in your eyes and he falters for just a moment, face softening as your tears fall, you don’t want to cry, but you’re terrified in that moment, that he would do that.
He is a monster, even if his cock and fingers felt good, it didn’t change the fact of just who Ryomen Sukuna was.
“Then get them with child, see if I care,” you swipe at your tears once more, taking several shaky breaths. “May I see my friends before you execute me, then?”
“I wasn’t… I…” Your lip trembles so violently you bite it, gripping your gowns tightly in your hands. “Go fucking see them. What do I care.”
“What would you care for,” you answer softly, turning then and rushing out, Sir Kamo follows you at a bit of a distance, before murmuring your name. “What is it Sir Kamo?”
“I just,” he swallows when he’s this close to you, hating seeing you like that so much he can hardly breathe, as if every bit of him wanted to go tell the goddamn king to fuck off and leave you alone. “I…”
“Do not feel sorry for me,” you whisper, shaking your head now. “I do not need your pity.”
“I do not pity you I just…” He sighs now, shutting his eyes. “Your friends will be here soon, I’ll make sure accommodations are ready.”
“Thank you Sir…” He rushes off, leaving your mind whirling with the terrible words Sukuna had spilled at you.
*****
“I can’t stand him,” you grumble, your best friends are sitting in the elegant seats of the sitting room, sipping tea from ceramic purple cups – you’re pretty sure they have it spiked with something as much as they’ve been giggling, but they get serious then, frowning at you. “I know, I should not say such things about my king.”
“Well,” Princess Savannah sighs, holding her tea cup out for her guard Toji to raise a brow at. “More, please.”
“M’not your-”
She glares at him, and he scoffs. “Yes you are, sworn to protect me!”
“Tch,” this teacup in Toji’s huge hand was comical, Savannah giggles and winks over at him shamelessly, while Christina's guard – the tall white haired Satoru Gojo – runs his hands over her shoulders in a massage. “Next you’ll be wanting me simping over you like him.”
“I’d love a massage actually,” you laugh at the two of them – shameless Princesses from nearby kingdoms you’ve missed. Satoru’s leaned forward and whispering something into her ear.
“Toru I’ll do that later,” he pouts and she giggles.
“Do what later?” You ask, earning Christina's shameless lick along her lips.
“Toru is needy.”
“It’s your fault for spoiling me,” Toji scoffs again.
“So he’s just getting sucked on the regular? This brat makes me do so much shit for her!”
“I do not!?”
“Okay,” you sigh, seeing your guard Choso is bright red now, Satoru’s nipping on Christina's neck, Savannah and Toji are arguing, and he looks mortified. “Sir Kamo, please ignore them!”
“He’s cute,” Savannah says with a giggle, beckoning him with a crook of her finger, Toji smacks her hand and glares. “What, he is?”
“Very cute,” Satoru gasps at Princess Christina's admission, he’s on his knees and still taller than the damn chair next to her, she giggles. “Sorry Toru but he is.”
“You’re a slutty princess,” Christina gets too excited at that, as Choso comes over, a hand on the back of your chair, you look apologetically at him – studying his violet eyes carefully, his handsome face.
“Sorry about them,” you murmur softly, he’s bright red, clearing his throat. “They get this way.”
“Why not have fun yourself?” Savannah brings up, crossing her legs and tugging her gown down, you gasp.
“I’m married?”
“He gets a harem,” Princess Christina agrees. “Why shouldn’t you get your own?”
“You’d have a harem!?” Satoru’s angry again, standing and crossing his arms, she darts up.
“No!”
“Liar, you live to hurt me,” she’s going on when Savannah looks at you both curiously, sipping more of her tea.
“She’s right, who says we just take it? Why can’t you have fun?”
“All this in front of Sir Kamo who took an oath are you two quite serious?” You down your tea and Choso refills it, brushing his fingers against yours, the sensation shocking you, your eyes meeting with each other.
“A moment,” you murmur softly, standing and taking Choso’s hand, your friends are just arguing with their guards as you tug Choso over toward a corner, the opposite side of the room. “Please do not say anything, they’re quite mad, truly.”
He’s quiet always, you’ve barely heard him talk, but he brushes your hair back gently, little tendrils that have escaped your updo, making you swallow nervously. “If you were mine, there would never be anyone else for me.”
Your heart hammers in your chest at the admission – yes, Sukuna fucks you, and yes you come during it, but has he ever made you feel this way?
“Sir Kamo…” You blush furiously now, ears hot from how flustered he makes you, clearing his throat and looking away.
“I should not take such liberties,” you look back at your friends then, so happy even as they’re arguing with their lovers.
Are you happy?
When all you’re to do as a wife is ‘make babies’ for your king?
Seeing Sukuna today with his concubines bathing him had done a number on your psyche, so much so you lean forward a bit, hand touching his own, he presses a little kiss on the back of it. “I would surely get murdered if I said all that I think.”
“Sir…” You’re blushing now, he sighs, swallowing just a bit. “What do you think of exactly?”
“I cannot say such things to you, my lady,” you get so warm then, under his steady gaze, heart fluttering. You want to be loyal to Sukuna, but he shows no such loyalty or care to you, and you feel yourself slipping away. “They’re not fit to pronounce here.”
“Oh, that scandalous?” You’re teasing, but Choso can’t control his thoughts then – looking into your pretty eyes.
If only you knew how long he’s yearned for you, untouchable, sweet little princess that he’s always watched from afar, but now he can inhale your scent, he can feel you. Eyeing the room a bit, he finally lowers his voice, lips just a breath away from yours.
“I’ve never kissed,” you admit suddenly, blushing. “That’s a random admission, is it not?”
“That’s all right, I was not going to kiss you right here,” a thumb brushes over your lower lip ever so gently. “I do not want you to be hurt, can you be careful and come meet me tonight? I should like to take you riding, I know you love horses. I’ve seen you with them.”
“You know that?” You’re a flustered mess as he nods.
“You love them, especially the chestnut one that just arrived, and I am very apt at riding them, if you’d like to join me. Yet as I said, we must…”
“He told me I can do as I please apparently,” you mumble, sighing. “I’d be more worried for you.”
Choso smiles softly. “I will be just fine. Meet me at midnight, at the stables, let me at least make you smile.”
******
It was quite an effort to sneak you out of the palace at night, but Christina and Savannah were quite sneaky themselves, they – along with their rather huge guards – easily sneak you away. Savannah has a cloak over you, Christina is making sure the coast is clear, your heart is hammering in your chest at the thoughts of it.
Sukuna did not even see you as a human, you were just an object – one he’s now threatened to behead if he’s not please with you. The lack of love when you yourself thought there was some feelings for him hurt even worse than if there was never a thing at all between you both.
How could he fuck your cunt with both cocks and come inside, spit right inside your open mouth, shove his fingers in – but not kiss you? Not show an ounce of affection, not show any respect? He would not even allow you near any of his meetings now, after your ‘disrespect’ of speaking up to him.
Yet two wrongs did not make a right, you still should try to make this work and not run off and get your own, but you find yourself drawn to Choso and his dark hair, his soft violet eyes that say so much with every look. Just riding a horse was not inherently a terrible thing, even though you seriously consider riding much more, taking him inside you, kissing during it.
It’s insanity, but as you hear the laughter of Sukuna’s concubines in the dining hall, the music playing, the sounds of men literally choking as he flings them into walls and kills them for fun?
You cannot live a life like that.
The moonlight is soft and flickering when you step foot into the stable, one you’ve not had much time to enjoy quite yet, and you see him standing there, running a soft brown brush across one of the horses. He pauses when he sees you, eyes locking on your own, so intense you've never felt this.
Sukuna certainly looks at you like he wants to eat you – yet it's Choso that looks as if he wishes to worship you.
“Your Highness,” he says softly, his voice just a little hoarse, clearing his throat. “You're here.”
“Choso,” your friends leave swiftly, and you’re alone then with him, with your royal guard, who’s wearing just a simple tunic and breeches, showcasing the strong, lithe muscles of his body. You let down your hood, and his lips part, putting down the brush he’d been using and heading toward you.
He closes the distance between you in just a few long strides, his rough hands gently cupping your face, exhaling and leaning low. He’s not as tall as Sukuna but he is extremely tall, well over six foot, his broad shoulders and muscular frame intimidating in their own way. He’s utterly beautiful with the moonligh shining in, reflection amber hues in those dark violet eyes.
“Like a sunset,” you whisper, he smiles softly.
“Hmm? What is like a sunset, pretty girl?”
Pretty…
Sukuna had said – pretty tits, pretty cunt, but not once in all your dressing up has he called you that. The word washes over you, making you tremble in his hold, your hands wrapping his wrists, thumbs dancing along the veins of them, breaths coming in shallow little pants.
“Your eyes,” you murmur then. “They’re like a sunset.”
“You’re too kind, your highness,” you pause him then, leaning on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to the sharp jut of his chin. “Oh fuck…”
“You curse, sir?” You’re giggling, he walks you back just a bit, until your back is pressed on the wooden wall, his hands tightening their loving grip on your face.
“It’s rare,” he admits, Choso does not curse often – yet how can he not, when he sees you here, so vulnerable and lovely. “I wish you were mine.”
“You do not know me,” you admit, emotion catching in your throat, he shakes his head softly.
“I do know you, just from afar,” a sigh escapes those plump lips. “I have observed you for so long, being kind to every servant, the way you hum and dance when you think no one looks, how you love to enjoy the sun on that hill with all the pretty weeds that you call flowers.”
“Sir…” Your throat catches, the feelings of being so close to him had you aching, in ways you never did with Sukuna, this deep ache that went beyond what your cunt needed.
No, this was more.
“I do not know you fully, inside and out,” his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh but I’d love to know, and I have no right to ask it. I swear I will never let you get hurt over me, if it came to it, I would die to protect you.”
“Do not speak of that!” You whisper, his hands fall, just to grip your waist, underneath your cloak right over the soft white gown you wear. “I should not ever let something come to that.”
“I just want you to know,” he admits, lips brushing your temple, his breath ghosting against your skin. “I have fallen since I first saw you, when they assigned me to be your guard. I feel so guilty, these thoughts…”
“You never told me them,” you admit, feeling emboldened then, Choso exhales, a thigh pressing between yours. “I should like to hear, Sir.”
“I have thought of my lips on yours,” your own part, glossy from your tongue, making Choso ache for more. “My lips on every inch of your beautiful body, until you cry my name out – my name and-”
You slam your lips on his.
You can’t help it, not when your entire body reacts to that, not when you’ve never felt so special, so beautiful, and he presses them back, moaning softly into your mouth. The first kiss was hesitant, it was a soft press of lips that tasted sweet, it was his tongue slipping against the seam of your lips and sliding in, stealing your breath away.
The second after he pulled back was deeper, it was more intense, yet it was still everything Sukuna was not, gentle, reverent, he was patient, letting you take the lead. He pulls back for a breath before claiming your lips once more, his tongue sweeping against yours, drinking up your cute little sighs, your body trembles underneath his sure hands, that keep a respectful position.
You wish they wouldn’t, you want his hands on your tits, your ass, your hips as you ride him.
Choso Kamo fills you with need as you melt into him, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, the rough starch of it, dragging him down for more. “Angel…”
“Angel?” You pull back and ask softly, blushing furiously now, he sighs, nodding just a bit.
“You’re an angel to me.”
“I’m not thinking angelic,” you murmur, he laughs softly then, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Mmm, not at all.”
“I want to take my time, I want you to be sure.” You swallow and nod, he wanted to take things slow, something you haven’t done yet – with Sukuna it was this whirlwind. “Let us ride, then when you meet me again you can decide if you want more.”
*****
These kisses that you both snuck became your ritual, the moments after you both rode together, each time he'd find a new, beautiful spot to take you to. You get to see more of the palace than you ever had with Sukuna, serene ponds and pretty hills.
Night after night, you would sneak out to the stables, and for precious moments, you two would just kiss. You’d talk in hushed, hasty whispers, sharing all sorts of little memories of your past, you share secrets and dreams. Every night you'd go back to your bed, longing filling you utterly.
Tonight you touch yourself before you go, Sukuna has ordered you never to, but you're soaking wet remembering those lips on the curve of your neck. His hands holding yours, his forehead resting against yours. It was a fragile, beautiful bubble of a world that belonged only to you both, so perfect and sweet.
Yet you wanted more.
It was clear as you circled your clit with your finger, and moaned out loud, all flushed yet you couldn't cum.
You want Choso.
You want to feel bad about it, but the more distance and cruelty Sukuna exudes, the very worse it becomes. Every raid he goes on, everything he destroys just pushes you further into Choso's arms, sneaking kisses in the halls, frantically grinding against him while he's in his armor.
More and more you crave Choso's touch, and forget your husband, who hardly spares you a look at dinner. He invites his women to the meals, as if he lives to hurt you, as if he wants you jealous, wants you to prove yourself.
You understand this is the way of kings – to have their lovers, yet you know the way of knights, and that's to truly love. Choso has his vows and you hate to disrespect those, but every time you kiss it grows, the need spreading from your core.
“Just fuck him,” Savannah's advice made you giggle. “He wants you.”
“His vows…”
“Then suck him.”
“Christina!”
“What?” They're sipping wine, you roll your eyes at the two of them. “Toru loves it.”
“They're still just kissing, you slut.”
“Me? You're the one who taught me how-”
“All right you two,” you stand and down the wine, interrupting your friends. “Tonight I'm meeting him in his room.”
“Ooooh!”
“Shh.”
They help you get there, it's in another building on the grounds, you slip in and see him, shirtless for the first time, your breath catches in your throat as you stand there, entranced, dropping your cloak. Clad only in scandalous lingerie your friends had chosen, you wait with baited breath, Choso taking you in.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, tilting your chin up, his other hand dancing across the curves of your body. “What did I do to deserve such a sight?”
“Kiss me,” is your answer, and Choso does. He slams his lips fervently on your own, dragging you against his hard body and moaning.
It's not like your other kisses, it's desperate. Needy, hungry, teeth clicking and tongues dancing, stealing your breath as his fingers dart down your tummy. He exhales, pulling back and looking in your eyes, before turning you to face the looking glass in his room.
“So beautiful,” he whispers, wrapping his arm around your front, lips against your neck, touching the wet mess your cunt is. “You're soaked, feel that… for me?”
“Choso,” you’re moaning out his name when you lean back against him, and his long fingers dart underneath the waistband of those lacy panties, finding your clit for the first time, lips brushing against your ear. “Mnh!”
“I haven’t…” He trails off now, sinking a finger in down to the knuckle of your messy hole, making him moan as you quiver around him. “I have not laid with a woman.”
“Never? You're quite good at… ah!” His fingers pump faster in your soaking wet hole, curling and hitting that soft spot. You cling to the dresser as you see him behind you, muscles flexing in his veiny forearms as he works your hole.
“You're so tight, angel,” teeth nip your shoulder, his cock hard against your back now, squelching sounds echoing the more he goes. You're so close you're dizzy, eyes rolling back, just to feel one of his hands on your tit, squishing it in his grip, moans ragged. “Want you to feel so good. Please, please let me see you fall apart.”
The orgasm wrecks you, and Choso gets to see it all in the dark reflection, the candlelight flickering and casting shadows while you quiver ‘round his thick digits. He moans, desperately rutting his cock against your ass, gasping as you squirt down his hand.
“So responsive, so pretty,” he's in wonder now, looking at the mess you've left his fingers, dripping slick. “Look at all of it.”
“Too much I-” Choso slips them into his mouth and sucks, lips wrapping around the coated fingers, moaning. “You're tasting me.”
“You're so sweet, fuck can I taste more? Please?” You give a weak nod, blushing when he turns you and kneels.
Choso kneeling to you.
“Let me serve you my Queen,” he is lost when he sits you on his dresser, spreading your thighs once he slid off those ruined undergarments, face level with your perfect pussy. He moans and spreads those puffy lips with two fingers, watching your slick drip out. “May I?”
“Please,” your soft whisper ruins Choso's brain, his tongue gathers all that slick from your slit, collecting it so it's dripping down on his taste buds. Your hands entangle in his dark hair, hips jolting when his straight nose hits your clit. “Mnh! Choso!”
“Wanna drink you up,” he groans those words against you, the vibrations making your thighs tremble, cunt just drippin’ down on his handsome face. He’s not teasing anymore, he’s lost, pussy drunk from the first few flicks. His long tongue flattens against your slit, lapping up the mess you’ve made. “All f’me.”
“Y-yes, f’you,” your whisper sends him further, thighs shaking as his messy worshipful strokes ruin you, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, dragging you closer with every flick of his tongue. “Mnh! Close, close!”
Your fingers tighten in his dark hair, holding him closer to your heat, your needy cunt spasming around his tongue, hips rocking you against his mouth, chasing the high, the feeling of it. It’s not that Sukuna didn’t pleasure you – he did, but never with the mouth on his face, always his stomach, his hands. There was something so intimate about the worship Choso is so eagerly giving.
He slides a finger back inside your needy cunt, then another, stretching you out so good you gasp, head falling back and smacking the cool glass of the mirror, dual sensation overwhelming. His tongue circles your clit as he studies every movement. Every breath, every reaction of your body, his fingers fucking you and making a mess with every stroke.
“M’gonna…”
“Come,” he orders softly, looking up at you, your hand brushes his hair back gently, breasts rising and falling, tummy tense. “Come for me, angel.”
You shatter for him, and Choso pauses his fingers, pulling them out and sliding his tongue deep instead, collecting all that messy release that’s creaming all over his mouth, his chin, dripping down his throat. He groans hungrily, slurping every bit up, his cock throbbing, sticky and leaking so much pre his trousers are soaked.
“Choso please,” you whisper, needy cunt quivering around his tongue. “I need more of you, please.”
He pulls back just a bit, his dark pink lips and chin glistening with your slick, an embarrassing amount. “Anything you wish, my Queen.”
Choso has you lifted, mouth kissing yours, letting you taste yourself while he brings you too his bed, laying you down on the firm mattress, somehow this little bed feels more special than any one you’ve ever laid on. It smells like him, the senses taking you over, his lips working as you sink into the mattress, heavy body warm, you fumble with the laces of his breeches, eager to touch him.
He swallows nervously, your hands are shaking, you’ve pleasured Sukuna but it was always on his command, this was your choice, eyes catching his own when you free him from those confines, his huge cock is thick and heavy in your hand, hot to the touch. He whimpers when you reach your fingers down to his tip, swirling it, watching his eyes flutter shut.
“Are you sure, we can stop there,” he murmurs, you position him at your entrance, he gasps out at just that, struggling not to bust before he even gets inside you. “Angel…”
“I’m sure,” Choso slides deep inside your needy cunt then, inch by inch and fuck there are many, stretching your needy hole out until his heavy balls slap your ass. “Ah!”
“Oh my f-fuck,” he’s kissing you again, lifting your thigh so he can glide deeper inside you, tip kissing your cute cervix over and over, the coil in your tummy tightening all over again. Your nails press into the taut muscles of his shoulders, leaving little half moons across his skin, making him suck in a breath. “You feel s’perfect, g-god you’re s’tight and f-fuckin’ wet…”
Choso loses it in your pussy, he’s not a knight anymore like this, he’s got your thighs shoved to your chest, apologizing and stuttering. “N-no, please, more…”
“Give you anything,” his strokes get meaner as he feels your body give underneath him, cock wrecking your pretty cunt, his nails pressing into your hips, dragging you down his slick, veiny length. “Wanna feel you come f’me, my queen. Just me.”
You’re close now, nodding and biting down on your lip, the old bed creaking as he rocks his cock inside you, a filthy mess of squelching and smacking, the thwap thwap thwap of his balls so full of seed, ready to breed your perfect little hole. He’s lost in it, how you grip him, how you milk his cock, but he also can’t stop thinking about how pretty you are.
How pretty you’ll be full of him, his child inside your womb, he’s mad surely, he’s got a death wish to want this, but it was over the moment you walked into the stable. Choso knows it then, you’re all there is for him, when he folds you in that mating press and he fucks you dumb, kissing you messier, needier, whimpering.
“Gonna f-fill you up, g-god please tell me you want… do you wanna… oh, come again, please, m’so sensitive… ah…” He’s mumbling, but you’re just babbling, his black hair tickling your clit when he pushes in. “That’s it, doin’ such a good job. Good girl, my good girl, comin’ like this…”
His words are slurred and on ringing ears when you shatter, cumming harder than you have before, dizzy and dazed when you feel him thicken, but he pauses, holding back. “Inside.”
Choso groans at that one little word, busting hot white ropes in your sticky, gummy walls, coating them with so much, as you take his first time, and he gives it so freely. He kisses your lips, drinking every noise, his head spinning, fucked up off you – your scent, how you feel, how you taste, your sounds… how you look underneath him.
“Beautiful,” he whispers reverently, pumping cum slowly in your cunt, you’re whining out, making him pause. “Are you… are you alright? Did I hurt you, baby?”
A soft little laugh escapes your lips, at how sweet he is then, his eyes glittering. You shake your head as he lowers your thighs and cups your face, you press a kiss into his palm, nuzzling it and sighing contentedly. “No, Choso. You didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”
“Perfect, are you sure? I never-”
“Perfect,” you drag him down for another kiss. “I loved it.”
You stay longer than you should, he begs you to sleep in his arms but you know you can’t do that just yet.
Not just yet.
*****
“Where the fuck were you?” Sukuna’s in your chambers the next morning, you blink sleep out of your eyes and wince.
“What?”
“Last night, I came and you weren’t fucking here,” he strides up and hovers over you, when he sees it, marks on your neck. “The fuck is all this!?”
“You told me ‘fuck if you want’ yeah?” Sukuna laughs then, a cruel laugh, before his hand grips your throat, turning your chin to face him.
“You fucked someone like a whore-”
Smack.
You smack the shit out of him, palm stinging, breasts rising and falling underneath your nightgown, he scoffs and lets you go, your smack drew blood and split his lip. “Impressive for a dumb bunny.”
“You are the whore.”
“Me!?”
“Yes you, fucking a harem of women, don’t kiss me, don’t sleep with me – do you even know a thing about me!?”
“I don’t need to, you’re my fucking wife!”
“I don’t want to be,” you stand then, breaths so fast you feel dizzy, nails digging into your palms with your clenched fists. “I want to be in love.”
“Love!? Hah, dumb mortals and their dumb fucking ideas.”
“I thought I could love you,” he pauses, his lips parting for a moment, watching tears stream down your cheeks. “I thought you could love me, but there was nothing, was there?”
He says nothing, teeth clenched, veins rising in his jaw underneath his skin. “You don’t love me.”
“I thought there was something,” your heart breaks then. “You never even kissed me, Sukuna.”
“Want a dumb fuckin’ kiss? Fine!” He drags you close and slams his lips on yours, and that’s when he loses it, that’s when he drags you against his hard chest, towering over you. Two hands cupping your face, two on your waist, holding you close against him, his mouth working yours.
You gasp and his tongue slides in, long and swirling in your mouth, moaning into it, walking you until your back bumps your nightstand. He pulls back and his huge chest is moving up and down under his white robes, a trail of saliva left between you both. You swallow nervously, eyes locked on his four red ones, waiting for him to say something, anything.
“Kissed you, needy, dumb wife,” you exhale, eyes shutting. “Will you shut up now, and give me my heirs? I heard you had your monthlies so you’re not with child. I expect you to be in my chambers tonight.”
“I see,” you wipe his kiss on the back of your hand. “Will you tell all your women to leave?”
“Will I what? Tch, just show up, brat,” he stomps off and you hug yourself, crying your eyes out, running to grab a paper and a quill.
You must leave.
*****
My King Sukuna,
He reads the note you left on your bed when he goes to fetch you, while you’re darting away with Choso, Christina, Savannah, Toji and Satoru – all six of you quietly escaping Sukuna’s estates. You’re in a carriage with just Choso as your friends ride in the other one, your hand shaking in Choso’s hold, eyes darting behind you as if he’ll follow.
I think there is more to you than people think, and I don’t truly think you’re as cruel as you seem, however I am as you say – a cry baby – a sweet girl who is sensitive, too sensitive some say. Yet, I’m okay with that, with being who I am, and your cruelty cuts me too deep, your lack of care hits me too hard.
Sukuna curses angrily.
Choso is kissing your lips, sighing against them. “My angel are you ready for this? To be mine, just mine?”
“I am,” you answer, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We will have to go far away though, and I won’t be a Princess or a Queen.”
“You’re my Queen,” he whispers, kissing you softly, the carriage rocks you even closer against him. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”
I found someone who loves me, someone who doesn’t want others, who only wants me, and I love him. I’m in love, and I wish to be happy – I tried, I did Sukuna, to see if there was anything. Yet to you I’m merely property, something to control, I wish for more, I dream for more, and I’ve found it. If you ever cared even a bit, you’ll let me go and replace me as easily as you said it was.
Farewell my King.
“Fuck this,” Sukuna destroys all the furniture, everything breaking into splinters of wood, his servants come to check and see it destroyed, ruined, in pieces. “Where the fuck is she?!!?”
He rushes and questions everyone, Sienna just raises a brow when he enters her chambers. “What did you expect? You treated her like shit, of course she left when she could.”
Sukuna scoffs, tears welling in his eyes that he’s never felt, and she softens for a moment. “I’ll fucking get her back, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Yet you’re not found, not when Sukuna hunts you down, not when he sends search parties, no you’re far, far away, living where Sir Choso Kamo came from, it’s no palace it’s a little cabin, far away. But you and him love it, it’s become your little home together, one he’ll have to expand soon.
He kisses your tummy before he fucks you tonight, you’re round with his child, a few stretch marks glimmering, you gasp out as he blows on them. “Choso no, I’m so embarrassed!”
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing up until he gets to your breasts, full of milk, his lips wrapping a sensitive nipple and sucking. “Mmm, I can’t wait to see them full of milk, to suck them, drink them.”
“Sir you’re scandalous,” he chuckles, blushing all cute, as you brush his hair back, slightly damp from the bath he had earlier. “I love you, Choso.”
“I love you, my queen.” He kisses you softly.
Some say Sukuna is still looking for you, but you can’t say that you pay heed to such rumors from abroad, you’re too happy underneath your knight.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋮ Sukuna's an angel. Or at least, that's what he used to be before he was cast out for his disobedience. He's dragging himself— torn and bloody through whatever godforsaken forest he had crashed in. Everything looks bleak for Sukuna until he spots your little cabin on the muddy riverbank. Perhaps you, the clumsy witch residing within its wooden walls, can grant him salvation.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⋮ wc : 7.7k, a little self-indulgent whoops, angst (idk Sukuna gets kicked out of heaven), idk how coherent this plot is either pretend it happens in a span of months, religious themes, slight fluff, eventual smut, true form sukuna x fem!reader, descriptions of injuries, blood, two cocks (only one is used), oral (fem recieving), fingering, piv sex, slightly ooc
𝐚𝐧 ⋮ here is my own addition to my colour theory event. It took a while to get out and I'm still getting used to writing long oneshots. But I hope you like it, thanks for reading :)
(also idk who made that third image, I've tried looking everywhere but found nothing. If anyone knows, please lmk!!)
Angels were made not to feel arrogance, fury, pain — all those emotions that made us human.
Sukuna knew that was a lie the second he was cast out, the heavens above tearing his white wings straight from his back and leaving two gaping wounds in the process. The sky split as he fell, shaking the core of Earth itself with a blinding light surging through the gap left behind. It was the sort of light that burned through the fallen angel, all the way down to his very bones and set him alight from the inside.
Divinity unravelled into sin.
Sukuna's back throbbed in agony, a pained howl ripping through his throat as he continued to fall.
And fall.
And fall.
Wind lashed against his defiled body. The experts called this spectacle another shooting star, a meteor streaking its way through the night sky. Onlookers gasped in awe as he disappeared into the black horizon. They couldn't be further from the truth.
Sukuna kept falling — all the way until the taste of betrayal in his mouth turned into mud and dirt. He had crash landed into a forest in the death of night, a shell of what he once was. A crater had bloomed where he had landed, the forest ricocheting like shrapnel over him — yet Sukuna refused to succumb to the pain.
An unbridled rage gripped him as he lay there, twitching as the blood ran down his back.
How dare they?
He was made out of light, fire, and yet the heavens stripped him of his glory — all because he refused to submit to a lesser being made of clay. Sukuna's arrogance had resulted in him getting cast out, and to that he spat on the ground. What he had left was defiance as he pushed himself up, muscles rippling as his chest rose and fell shakily. His breath was ragged as his four red eyes scanned the dark surroundings.
Beneath him, the soil soaked in the red of his blood, the precious liquid having dripped out of his wounds where his wings should've been and down the curve of his spine. Dying alone here wasn't an option for Sukuna, however. He wasn't about to give the heavens a reason to rejoice. He wasn't about to prove their judgement of him as final.
That was why he grunted low, forcing himself to move despite the way his back screamed in protest. The effort was truly ugly — all the grace he had in his former body having evaporated out of him the second he was ousted.
Two of Sukuna's four palms skidded momentarily against the mud before he mustered up the energy to stand tall. He swayed once, then twice.
Sukuna did not fall.
Spite won over anything else, allowing the forest to part before him as he moved through it. The branches thwacked against Sukuna, until they gradually thinned and the stubborn roots began to lose their grip on the earth below. Moonlight washed over his body, baptising his nudity that he was so painfully aware of. He wasn't ashamed, not at all. Sukuna was irritated at this indignity bestowed upon him.
He pushed on, feeling the ground slope beneath his bare feet until the air grew clearer around him. It felt cooler, damp, and the odd sound of running water met Sukuna's ear. It was clear that the source came from a river now that he was face to face with it.
Water.
A pang of thirst hit him — something that he had never felt before his exile. Sukuna's body moved towards the source of life without thinking, until he had sank onto his knees and gulped until the liquid threatened to bubble back up. Only then did he rise once more, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.
When he scanned the area once more, nothing in particular stood out. But then Sukuna's eyes widened, trying to make out the shape in the darkness that resembled something akin to shelter squatting by the riverbed. A faint glow bled through what must've been the windowpanes. Above sat a chimney from which light smoke curled out in thin tendrils that dissolved into nothingness.
It wasn't anything grand by any means, but it was enough. It felt alive, something Sukuna wasn't accustomed to yet. He stared after it for longer than he meant to, his scarred skin tense and prickling with something he couldn't name.
Each step grew heavier than the last as Sukuna set his target on the hut. He was still bleeding, still clinging onto survival — shaking violently as defiance mixed with exhaustion. Yet he dragged himself on, all the way until his knees finally gave out from exhaustion.
The night went on, swallowing the pitiful fallen angel's body. His nails dug into the dirt, and just for one hopeful second, Sukuna thinks he could pull himself back up like he has done before.
But he couldn't.
His eyes shut, and consciousness flickered away. The very last thing Sukuna was aware of was a feminine hum followed by a sharp gasp, a figure looming in front of him as he passed out.
For the first time since Sukuna fell, he didn't rise — not for a while.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Why I outta— ah. You're awake, it seems."
Was he?
Sukuna's head swam, nausea hitting him as consciousness came floating back in small fragments. He found himself unable to breathe, body shooting upwards as a terrible cough wracked his lungs. The scent invading his body was herbal, bitter and left him gasping for air as you watched — clearly unimpressed.
"You can stop that, y'know," you muttered, cracking open a window and letting daylight in. "My precious herbs aren't that bad."
When the worst of the dry heaving had subsided, Sukuna grimaced, looking down to see his upper body bandaged and lower half covered with a blanket of some sorts. He then raised his head, taking in the wooden beams of what was presumably your hut. Oddities were strewn around everywhere in the small space, cluttering your living area with metal trinkets and hanging ropes of garlic amongst other things.
And then he registers something soft underneath his hulking body — a narrow bed that was almost folding in half because of his weight. Honestly, it was a miracle to you that it was still intact.
Above all else, one realisation had hit Sukuna — you had touched him.
His gaze snapped at you as you stood a few steps away by a cluttered table packed to the brim with various bottles.
"Woah, what's with the look?"
Sukuna's jaw tightened, and then he tried speaking. He cleared his throat, testing out the words on his tongue.
"I assume that you were the one to have . . . moved me."
You swallowed, choosing not to lie. There was no need to — you two were the only ones there for miles around. "That I did."
"That is rather bold of you to touch something that was once of pure divinity," Sukuna pointed out, shifting so that he was seated upright. The searing pain in his back had gone, replaced by a deep but manageable ache that seemed to resonate inside of him.
"Whatever you were, that doesn't matter now," you pointed out, unaware of his circumstances. "You landed on my property, all bloody and battered and you probably should take it easy for a while."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed at you as he attempted to stand. Immediately, a hiss left his throat.
"Don't move like that, you'll tear something." Your voice was firm as you stepped closer without thinking. Above his shoulder, your hand hovered in uncertainty — had you upset the man?
Sukuna sat back down begrudgingly, slightly stung at the dismissal of his status. The bed creaked once more in protest, and you swore you heard wood splintering somewhere. The sound made you grimace, yet your voice took on a more gentle tone. Something was clearly wrong with whoever this man is, and something in you said that he was capable of far more than he let on.
"Well . . . you can stay here as long as you like. Just be careful, please. I made this furniture myself and it took quite a while."
That got a different sort of reaction out of Sukuna. His mouth twitched — barely.
"You house a fallen angel," he mused, looking up at you, "and your flimsy chairs are your main concern?"
Your eyes widened, the pieces of the puzzle slowly connecting together in your mind. Fallen angel? Well, that would have explained the two large gashes on his back. "Is that what you really are, Mr . . . ?"
"Sukuna, and yes. That I am."
You mumbled out your own name, suddenly falling quiet as you took in this new revelation. Sukuna cocked his head, studying you curiously. "Your silence intrigues me. Tell me — should you not be scared, little one?"
"Of what?"
"Of what I am."
You thought for a second. It wasn't like you were completely unafraid of what Sukuna was — finding him in such a vulnerable state was more than a sure sign that danger lurked not too far away. But if you thought deeper . . .
"I'm well acquainted with things that are out of the ordinary," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "A fallen angel is bound to be another addition to that."
"And what makes you so special?"
"I didn't say I was special," you blurted, trying to preserve your image. "I'm just a witch— or, well, a practising one."
Sukuna hummed low, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"That explains the wards you have hung around this hut."
He wasn't wrong — for the sake of your safety, you had cast a ward many moons ago to keep out any negative energy away from you. Sukuna wasn't at all surprised that he had bypassed that. You had let him in willingly, after all. Whether that was a good choice on your end, well, time would have to tell.
"I didn't know you could see them."
"I can see many things the human eye cannot," he replied simply.
And then your mouth ran faster than your mind could, a sceptical look shooting Sukuna's way. "Doesn't seem that way to me, considering the fact that you crashed face first into the ground."
Silence.
You grimaced — it appeared that your horribly timed attempt at a joke didn't land well. No pun intended.
But unexpectedly, a rush of air left Sukuna's nose. It was short and sharp, more out of disbelief than anything else. It even startled him, making him adjust the mildly amused look on his face into one of irritation.
"Your mouth runs carelessly, little one," he said.
"Seems as though I'm not the only careless one around here." You were really testing the waters now.
Sukuna stared at you, so you stared back.
Really stared.
You thought he would retaliate, but he didn't. An awkward cough from you filled the silence. Then, some shuffling as you moved in place.
"Anyway," you said, "I've tended to your back as you can see.
"I can indeed," Sukuna said flatly. "I'm not quite fond of the . . . smell."
Figures.
A sigh left you as he watched you wander off, the sound of clinking meeting his pierced ears. When you came back, bottles of various liquids occupied the space in your hands — ranging from the deepest yellows to creamy whites. "These are just some home remedies I used after washing your back. I'll need to apply these again when I change your bandages."
"And when will you be doing that?"
"Now. Because as you can see, you're bleeding through the old—"
"Absolutely not."
A pause.
"Absolutely yes," you argued. "You may be of higher power but that doesn't mean you're invincible to infection, especially now that you're on my turf."
Sukuna simmered in his seat, refusing to look your way.
"I suppose you'd like to reopen all your wounds then?"
. . .
That got him to turn, just enough for you to carefully roll the bloodied bandages off his torso. You could ignore the four arms for now as you set the bottles of ointment to the side, face to face with the large gashes running down Sukuna's shoulder blades. The skin had split, making you wince as you tried not to focus too much on the injuries in front of you.
As you worked, your mind raced yet again — what atrocities had he committed to be deserving of such treatment?"
A grunt dragged you out of your thoughts. The ointment was slippery between your fingers and Sukuna's wounds stung terribly so as you applied it onto his skin. "If you could handle that fall, you can handle this, Sukuna."
"That does not mean I want to," he bit back as curtly as he could. It was all too much for the fallen angel, having wound up in some witches hut and being tended to like a stray dog. But what could he do except take it? That was why Sukuna stayed in his seat, body tense as he chose to restrain himself.
"There we go, nice and calm," you squinted, drying your hands clean and fetching a fresh roll of gauze to wrap around Sukuna.
"I am choosing patience," Sukuna gritted out, lifting up his arms one by one as you manoeuvred around him. You nodded, making sure he was securely patched up whilst the river outside continued to splash against the bank. The world around you both continued to move, and the heavens above remained a silent witness to what was going on with their fallen angel.
Sukuna — the being who had sworn not to kneel to anyone, remained in his seat on top of the creaking bed beneath your wandering hands.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Sukuna was making better progress than you had initially expected. Time trudged on, creeping in through the small things — like the light beams across your wooden floorboards shifting across your rooms. The river outside, too. It ebbed and flowed with each pass of the moon.
His bandages needed changing less often, slowly but surely. With the passing of time and somewhere between medicinal care to boiling weeds, living with Sukuna felt like less of a pressing matter and more of a routine.
A much welcome one, too.
It was far from a miracle the way Sukuna healed, but he was able to ignore the faint burn of the muscles of his back as he followed you around your hut. The skin had closed unevenly, causing it to scar and raise. That was a better outcome than infection, at least.
Soon enough, Sukuna picked up on your habits. Being cooped up with you made that easy, but not once did Sukuna intend for that to happen. He noticed that you woke up at precisely 5 a.m without fail, shuffling in and out of the bedroom you had so kindly given him as you went about your day.
You also had the tendency to speak to inanimate objects, banging pots and pans out of frustration when your spell casting didn't go right. Sometimes, you'd even practise in front of him — the former angel sitting there unimpressed as you tried potion-making.
His mouth would twitch without fail, every damn time when a plume of smoke would erupt in your face.
There were things about Sukuna you noticed as well. First of all, he hated wearing shirts. It took a lot of bribery on your end for him to let you fashion up a pair of loose pants for him to wear so that you didn't accidentally see them again. By them, you meant his twin pair of cocks. The imagery made you shudder, and it was one you would like to forget.
To compromise, he wore the baggy pants in exchange for being allowed to walk around topless. It was more 'freeing' for his four arms, which you supposed made sense. He sported quite a few tattoos he would rather not have explained, but at least they were nice to look at.
You also noticed how he liked to push your limits — doing nothing when you tripped over thin air or snagged your clothes against a stray hook in your usual fashion. He'd sit there, face passive and wondering how it was possible for you to be this unintentionally clumsy.
Oh, and he'd also push his body beyond the limits of what was acceptable, sending you into a panic whenever he feigned a grimace on his face.
"Don't push it, Ryomen," you warned, brows knitted as Sukuna tried walking the length of your hut without having to use your walls for support. He managed, but that didn't mean you couldn't see the sway in his step.
He scoffed, turning his head to look at you. "I am merely standing, little witch."
"You look like you're about to bolt out of my front door," you shot back, waving your favourite wooden stick at the man. "Sit."
Sukuna sat down without even realising, and when the realisation did hit — it was already too late.
You scurried off to make food, feeling a pang of hunger hit you, and Sukuna was also the perfect test subject for new recipes. He stayed rooted to the spot, bristling as a pang of annoyance hit him. He stayed quiet, staring into the wall and pretending not to notice how obedient he was around you.
Sometimes, silence was something you learned Sukuna needed. He'd have his off days, where his shoulders would hunch and the searing pain in his back would bring back spiteful memories of what had got him cast out of heaven. You would listen to Sukuna shift around until you found him in the morning sleeping upright.
His gaze would drift off, latch onto nothing as something ugly and scornful swirled beneath the red.
You never pried, no matter how much you wanted to.
Sukuna knew you wanted to as well, but you knew your limits. Those dark periods would pass, much like the rain over your hut, and everything was okay again — momentarily, but it was enough.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Sukuna was making better progress than you had initially expected. Time trudged on, creeping in through the small things — like the light beams across your wooden floorboards shifting across your rooms. The river outside, too. It ebbed and flowed with each pass of the moon.
His bandages needed changing less often, slowly but surely. With the passing of time and somewhere between medicinal care to boiling weeds, living with Sukuna felt like less of a pressing matter and more of a routine.
A much welcome one, too.
It was far from a miracle the way Sukuna healed, but he was able to ignore the faint burn of the muscles of his back as he followed you around your hut. The skin had closed unevenly, causing it to scar and raise. That was a better outcome than infection, at least.
Soon enough, Sukuna picked up on your habits. Being cooped up with you made that easy, but not once did Sukuna intend for that to happen. He noticed that you woke up at precisely 5 a.m without fail, shuffling in and out of the bedroom you had so kindly given him as you went about your day.
You also had the tendency to speak to inanimate objects, banging pots and pans out of frustration when your spell casting didn't go right. Sometimes, you'd even practise in front of him — the former angel sitting there unimpressed as you tried potion-making.
His mouth would twitch without fail, every damn time when a plume of smoke would erupt in your face.
There were things about Sukuna you noticed as well. First of all, he hated wearing shirts. It took a lot of bribery on your end for him to let you fashion up a pair of loose pants for him to wear so that you didn't accidentally see them again. By them, you meant his twin pair of cocks. The imagery made you shudder, and it was one you would like to forget.
To compromise, he wore the baggy pants in exchange for being allowed to walk around topless. It was more 'freeing' for his four arms, which you supposed made sense. He sported quite a few tattoos he would rather not have explained, but at least they were nice to look at.
You also noticed how he liked to push your limits — doing nothing when you tripped over thin air or snagged your clothes against a stray hook in your usual fashion. He'd sit there, face passive and wondering how it was possible for you to be this unintentionally clumsy.
Oh, and he'd also push his body beyond the limits of what was acceptable, sending you into a panic whenever he feigned a grimace on his face.
"Don't push it, Ryomen," you warned, brows knitted as Sukuna tried walking the length of your hut without having to use your walls for support. He managed, but that didn't mean you couldn't see the sway in his step.
He scoffed, turning his head to look at you. "I am merely standing, little witch."
"You look like you're about to bolt out of my front door," you shot back, waving your favourite wooden stick at the man. "Sit."
Sukuna sat down without even realising, and when the realisation did hit — it was already too late.
You scurried off to make food, feeling a pang of hunger hit you, and Sukuna was also the perfect test subject for new recipes. He stayed rooted to the spot, bristling as a pang of annoyance hit him. He stayed quiet, staring into the wall and pretending not to notice how obedient he was around you.
Sometimes, silence was something you learned Sukuna needed. He'd have his off days, where his shoulders would hunch and the searing pain in his back would bring back spiteful memories of what had got him cast out of heaven. You would listen to Sukuna shift around until you found him in the morning sleeping upright.
His gaze would drift off, latch onto nothing as something ugly and scornful swirled beneath the red.
You never pried, no matter how much you wanted to.
Sukuna knew you wanted to as well, but you knew your limits. Those dark periods would pass, much like the rain over your hut, and everything was okay again — momentarily, but it was enough.
"I just fixed that, Ryo," you complained, the nickname slipping out from between your lips like second nature. Perhaps it had been a couple of weeks since you had first begun to nurse Sukuna back to health. There had been no talks of sending him off elsewhere now that his condition had improved rapidly. Quite frankly, you didn't want him to go anywhere either. You told yourself he was quite good with the handiwork.
Except for now, that is.
A rake stood between you both, the wooden handle having splintered after Sukuna had taken it from your grasp. He had intended to rake up the leaves, but his grip was far too powerful. He patted the splinters off of his hand, staring down at the useless tool.
". . . I can fix it.
You let out a snort, shaking your head incredulously. "Not even my magic can turn that heap of firewood back into what it once was."
"Allow me to."
Sukuna's words made you cock a brow. "Do you really want to? I don't see any point—"
"This was my doing, so I will fix it," he said simply, as if he was telling you about his day. There wasn't any sort of challenge in his tone, which you could appreciate. It was simply just a matter of fact statement from Sukuna, to which you hesitated for only a second and nodded.
"Go ahead, then. But I'm putting you on time out if you break anything again."
Fair enough.
Sukuna was only gone momentarily as he returned with a branch. Without skipping a beat, he carefully fashioned a makeshift handle with his black nails and handed it to you before you could even process what he had done. You blinked then shifted out of neutral, wrenching the old splintered handle out of the rake and replacing it.
Lo and behold, it was completely functional.
"Well, would you look at that," you chuckled in disbelief, inspecting the rake from all angles. Sukuna reached out, intending to take the rake from you so that he could try out raking again — but then he stopped.
"Show me."
You gawked up at Sukuna, evidently startled.
"What do you mean 'show me'?"
"How you wish for me to rake your garden," he lifted up all four of his eyes off of the ground to meet yours, clarifying what he meant. "I do not wish to make the same mistake as before."
A smile broke out on your face then before you pursed your lips, not wanting to annoy the man. You demonstrated, opening your fist then closing it gently around the rake handle. Sukuna watched attentively before you handed the tool back to him. Your fingers brushed against his — and he went very, very still.
"Ah, ah. Gently. You don't need to flex your hand so hard."
Your fingers carefully adjusted his, until you could no longer see the wood threatening to bend under his grip again. Somewhere under your conscious, you noticed how Sukuna's breathing had deepened, but you were more focused on the way he mimicked your prior movements with utmost care.
The rake held in his grip.
"There you go! I told you not everything needs brute force."
Sukuna regarded the rake with thinly-veiled interest and turned his nose up. "Control, little witch," he murmured softly, "is incredibly difficult."
"Yes, but you're learning. Within time, you'll be able to handle anything with utmost care."
An odd look passed over Sukuna's face at that. He seemed almost pleased at your praise. That was why he went back to raking in silence as you supervised. His biceps flexed and relaxed with each almost reverent pull of his arms over the leaves. Something akin to affection settled in your chest, to which you swept away much like Sukuna was doing with the leaves.
When he had finished, he carefully propped the rake against the wall of your hut and turned in your direction.
"Is this acceptable?"
You nodded, quite pleased with how it had all turned out. "Of course. You did a great job, Ryo."
At the nickname, something in Sukuna stirred. He felt as if he had a purpose once more, and the feeling was addicting. A thoughtful yet dark look passed over his eyes before he turned his head away and nodded. "Then I will remember for next time," he said quietly.
He really did — having been caught by you several times testing out his grip on various items in your home. And each time without fail, your pulse picked up at the sight.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Church bells.
The sound was wrong in Sukuna's head.
It started off quiet at first — just a simple, distant toll that echoed all the way until the sound weaved its way through the forest. It hit your hut, making your head perk up one lazy morning whilst Sukuna picked berries off a nearby shrub. You frowned, trying to put a finger on what could possibly be going on.
"You hear that, right?"
Of course he did. How could he not?
The second ring of the bell resonated back into Sukuna, the sound too sharp as it pressed against his skull and branded him in a way that made his vision spark out at the edges. Before he knew it, Sukuna was shaking — his body having reacted before his mind could.
The air around him grew hot, until sweat beaded at his temple and rolled off in slick streams.
The third toll of the bell would prove to be Sukuna's unravelling, the ground under his feet cracking with a dry, splintering sound. His muscles spasmed painfully — causing a low snarl to claw its way out of his throat before he could swallow it back.
"Sukuna—?"
You were visibly startled at what was going on, looking at the increasingly hateful look on the former angel's face. The bell tolled once more, striking through flesh and bone and reigniting old pain on the scars on his back.
As if heaven itself was reminding him of his cursed status once more.
Your face paled, reminded of the wards that were around your hut. The air seemed to hold its breath, reacting to the unholy presence Sukuna was bleeding out onto your land.
"Sukuna," you called out firmer this time. Despite your common sense screaming at you not to approach him, you did. "What is that? What— are you okay?"
Before you could blink, he turned to face you. For the duration of a heartbeat, you could see something feral in Sukuna's eyes — something that was ancient and powerful and most likely forged from the depths of hell itself.
"Do not dare come close to me."
You flinched — wondering what on earth had come over you.
And then the bells rang again, the realisation hitting you like a bucket of cold water. In between your wards and what was most likely wedding bells, Sukuna fought the innate urge to kneel — pummelled by the weight of reminder of exile once more.
Sukuna didn't look at you when he spoke once more, his words landing heavily between you. He didn't speak out of anger this time — but out of finality.
"I should not have stayed this long around you. The heavens have noticed, and you are not safe with me."
You opened your mouth to speak, blood rushing to your head as you tried making sense of Sukuna's sudden collapse. Then, he cut you off.
"I should not have stayed this long," he repeated, getting off of his knees with his shoulders squared. You stared after him, in utter disbelief as he walked towards the forest and let it swallow him whole. And whilst the bell kept ringing in the distance, a sickening feeling bubbled up in your gut — making you follow shortly after.
Perhaps your inability to think rationally was the sole reason why you were able to follow Sukuna. He had made incredible progress, light almost invisible the deeper you went. But the claw marks on the bark of the trees served as your guide as the bell chimed once more. The sound may have been muffled now, but it was no less potent — dragging out noises so visceral from Sukuna's chest.
"Sukuna?" You called out, frustrated grunts leaving you as you nearly tripped over a tangle of branches.
Not once did Sukuna stop.
He was in your line of sight now, which had to count as something. It was a marvel that he was still moving, all the way up until he reached a crater in the ground.
Sukuna then staggered in his step. You almost slipped in mud, yet pushed on.
The man dropped onto one knee, exhaling sharply and wincing like it hurt for him to do so. Sukuna's nails tore through the dirt, like it'd anchor him — but to no avail.
This happened all whilst the bells echoed over and over, but this time? Sukuna openly let his body shake as you came closer yet again.
"Do not—," he croaked, cursing your stubbornness. "I am warning you again. Do not come any closer if you value your life."
You did slow, yes. But did you stop?
No.
"You can't even stand, Ryo," you stammered, trying your hardest to keep your voice steady. As always, Sukuna shook his head, attempting to hide his evident weakness.
"And since when has that ever been your concern?"
"Since you landed in front of my hut all those moons ago," you vented, throwing your hands up in the air. How ridiculous.
Another toll interrupted you, causing Sukuna to grind his teeth down until something in his jaw cracked. All four arms braced against the forest floor, back bowing almost violently. It hurt to watch.
"You do not understand. You will never understand," Sukuna snarled, teeth digging into his tongue. His anguish was evident, rendering you speechless in its intensity. "This-this darned sound. It kills me."
"So let it. I'll figure out the rest."
Your words, incredibly foolish, got his attention. He looked up, red eyes bloodshot as disbelief crossed the pained lines on his face.
"Stupid witch. You are nothing short of reckless."
"I know, but I'd rather you let me try something instead of trying to deal with it all alone."
Ring.
Whatever little control Sukuna had left had vanished into nothingness — causing his entire body to give out. You were positive he could hear your heart beating erratically in your chest as you cursed and tried dragging him to a nearby tree. It didn't work — Sukuna's body was nothing short of dead weight.
"Fuck—," you gritted out, choosing the second best option. You propped him up against you, letting him slump against your front — his forehead on your shoulder. A low sound left Sukuna then — broken and agonised.
"Sukuna," you whispered, not exactly expecting a response.
He didn't.
Without hesitation, you gently pressed your warm palms over Sukuna's ears after ridding them of any mud. He stiffened in your hold as you both sat there in the forest, taking in the way the sound of the bell dulled considerably — enough to give him some relief. What once was laboured breathing that rattled him to the core, turned into something uneven yet steady at long last.
"We can just stay here until the bell stops," you murmured, eyes honed in on Sukuna. For a long, heavy minute, he didn't move.
But then more of his weight shifted onto you. You grunted, deciding to just let him be. You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you finally were able to remove your hands?
Sukuna didn't move.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Days passed.
Sukuna was okay again, but there was one thing nagging in his mind. He brought it up one evening as you tapped away at one of the loose floorboards with a hammer.
"You have removed the wards," he mentioned casually.
. . .
"Yeah, of course," you said without looking up. The hammer continued to strike the nail, digging it further in place as Sukuna watched intently.
"And you did so knowing of what I'm capable of. What other dangers linger outside of your door."
Sukuna was right — by removing those very wards that had kept you safe for so long, you were inviting all sorts of dangers in. But none of that seemed to matter. Not anymore.
"Well, they hurt you," you shrugged, setting the hammer down once you were done. "I didn't want to keep something like that around."
Sukuna's eyes dropped to your hands, the same ones that took care of him without hesitation, without expecting anything back in return.
"You touched me back then," he continued. "I explicitly told you not to come near me, yet you did anyway."
You gnawed on your lower lip, shaking your head. Did he seriously expect you to just leave him there?
"You were in pain. What else did you want me to do?"
"That is no excuse, little witch," Sukuna pressed on — but there wasn't any ounce of hostility in his voice. "I do not recall you asking for permission to touch me like that."
That got you to stand up and truly look at Sukuna in the eyes. "And if I did ask for permission that day, would you have said no to me?"
He didn't answer, not right away. The river outside seemed to grow louder, overtaking the silence as you waited for a response. And a response he gave, even if it was far from what you had expected him to say.
"No. Not at all."
The words settled over you both, solidifying whatever odd bond was between you.
"Then don't expect an apology from me," you grinned slightly. Sukuna only stared back, a fond look crossing his face. "You won't get one."
"I cannot help but question why you are not afraid."
"I was, actually," you corrected gently. "But that wasn't enough for me to leave you in that state."
"And so you stayed." Sukuna's voice dropped into a quiet murmur. "You covered my ears in that forest when you could have simply left me, and you stayed."
"Of course I did, and I'd do it again. You needed someone back there, Ryo."
Silence.
"And what about now, little witch?"
A dangerously loaded question indeed, but you were not one to shy away from anything that much was clear.
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"I find myself liking your touch more than I should. Why is that?" Sukuna teased one evening. You were sitting with him, legs against his as you stitched up a tear in his pants. You didn't want to answer that — solely because you didn't trust your mouth to say anything rational.
Sukuna let out a whistle of air through his noise out of amusement. "Your silence says more than any words you give me the pleasure of hearing."
"Can you just go back to disliking idle chatter? You talk too much," you huffed, tugging the needle through the fabric and ignoring the heat flooding onto your face.
"Ah, but look who remains seated by my side," Sukuna remarked coyly. He shifted ever so slightly, causing your thigh to rest against his bulky one.
It's just an accident, that's all, you told yourself — but neither of you corrected your direct physical contact. You pulled the thread a tad too strongly, movements faltering because of him. You cursed, adjusting your grip on the needle.
"Careful," Sukuna warned. "You will end up hurting yourself."
"Well, then stop distracting me," you scoffed, shooting a half-hearted glare his way.
"Oh? Am I distracting you?" Sukuna tilted his head to look down at you, all four of his eyes studying you with an intensity that made your stomach twist almost pleasurably. "I am simply sitting still. You are the one shaking, little witch."
"Excuse me? I am not shaking—"
"You most definitely are shaking."
You exhaled shakily, finishing off the last stitch before packing your needle and thread way in the cookie tin you kept them in. "You should stop staring at me like that, then."
"Like how?"
"Like you're a pervert who's about to touch me."
That elicited a throaty chuckle from the former angel next to you, which was the happiest he's ever sounded. "I would not have called it perverse. I thought I was becoming rather acquainted with what you humans call 'intimacy'."
Sukuna's words had your pulse quickening almost drastically. It was difficult to navigate this entire situation with a being as unstable as him, but the thrill was like no other. You dared to glance his way, eyes meeting red.
"Since when did you care about intimacy?"
"Since I met you."
Sukuna leaned back, one arm thrown over the back of your patchwork couch behind you. You willed your mouth to move, finding that it had suddenly run dry. "You sound almost sincere, y'know. I could almost believe that you're not joking."
"When have I ever been one to crack jokes like this around you?"
In your silence, Sukuna pressed on.
"I crave your touch more than I have ever craved the validation of the so-called God that cast me aside like nothing. You quietened the burn in me, little witch, and I find myself reluctant to be anywhere but here."
When you refused to look at him, Sukuna had to take matters into his own hands. He had spent many nights contemplating your dynamic, knowing that you were just what he needed to tether himself to earth. Yes, it was selfish, but Sukuna was also a risk taker — and he'd do anything to prove himself worthy of your affection.
With that, Sukuna removed himself off of his couch and kneeled between your legs. You spluttered, accidentally kicking out of shock. This prompted him to gently grab your foot with a practised softness, two of his four hands kneading at your calf. "You can't possibly be serious—"
"I am. And I intend on showing you my devotion."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"I find myself liking your touch more than I should. Why is that?" Sukuna teased one evening. You were sitting with him, legs against his as you stitched up a tear in his pants. You didn't want to answer that — solely because you didn't trust your mouth to say anything rational.
Sukuna let out a whistle of air through his noise out of amusement. "Your silence says more than any words you give me the pleasure of hearing."
"Can you just go back to disliking idle chatter? You talk too much," you huffed, tugging the needle through the fabric and ignoring the heat flooding onto your face.
"Ah, but look who remains seated by my side," Sukuna remarked coyly. He shifted ever so slightly, causing your thigh to rest against his bulky one.
It's just an accident, that's all, you told yourself — but neither of you corrected your direct physical contact. You pulled the thread a tad too strongly, movements faltering because of him. You cursed, adjusting your grip on the needle.
"Careful," Sukuna warned. "You will end up hurting yourself."
"Well, then stop distracting me," you scoffed, shooting a half-hearted glare his way.
"Oh? Am I distracting you?" Sukuna tilted his head to look down at you, all four of his eyes studying you with an intensity that made your stomach twist almost pleasurably. "I am simply sitting still. You are the one shaking, little witch."
"Excuse me? I am not shaking—"
"You most definitely are shaking."
You exhaled shakily, finishing off the last stitch before packing your needle and thread way in the cookie tin you kept them in. "You should stop staring at me like that, then."
"Like how?"
"Like you're a pervert who's about to touch me."
That elicited a throaty chuckle from the former angel next to you, which was the happiest he's ever sounded. "I would not have called it perverse. I thought I was becoming rather acquainted with what you humans call 'intimacy'."
Sukuna's words had your pulse quickening almost drastically. It was difficult to navigate this entire situation with a being as unstable as him, but the thrill was like no other. You dared to glance his way, eyes meeting red.
"Since when did you care about intimacy?"
"Since I met you."
Sukuna leaned back, one arm thrown over the back of your patchwork couch behind you. You willed your mouth to move, finding that it had suddenly run dry. "You sound almost sincere, y'know. I could almost believe that you're not joking."
"When have I ever been one to crack jokes like this around you?"
In your silence, Sukuna pressed on.
"I crave your touch more than I have ever craved the validation of the so-called God that cast me aside like nothing. You quietened the burn in me, little witch, and I find myself reluctant to be anywhere but here."
When you refused to look at him, Sukuna had to take matters into his own hands. He had spent many nights contemplating your dynamic, knowing that you were just what he needed to tether himself to earth. Yes, it was selfish, but Sukuna was also a risk taker — and he'd do anything to prove himself worthy of your affection.
With that, Sukuna removed himself off of his couch and kneeled between your legs. You spluttered, accidentally kicking out of shock. This prompted him to gently grab your foot with a practised softness, two of his four hands kneading at your calf. "You can't possibly be serious—"
"I am. And I intend on showing you my devotion."
Sukuna stayed true to his word.
Curiosity won over, melting with the innate urge to love you the way he deemed fit. Of course there was a more romantic way to go about it, but having his mouth on your cunt was heavenly — pardon my language.
He stayed on his knees as if he was in worship, hands having settled on your waist after dragging you off the very edge of your couch. The springs groaned, inaudible as Sukuna's mouth latched onto your pussy after spreading your lips open with two thick thumbs. His tongue was nothing short of thorough, exploring each and every fold despite inexperience rendering his movements sloppy.
But that was how you liked it — it was raw, sincere. You cried out, one hand bullying its way into Sukuna's hair and tugging as his lips found your clit. "So eager for me already. I must be doing something right."
And he was — languidly sucking your clit into his mouth and grazing it with his sharp teeth. "Oh, God," you keened out, back arching off the couch. Your whines melted into a sharp squeal when Sukuna slapped the side of your thigh.
"Language."
"My bad— ahhh," you choked out, feeling one thick finger slide deep into your cunt. It appeared that Sukuna's nails had retracted, leaving you to writhe and clench around his digits as they explored your gummy walls.
Sukuna hadn't felt a heat like this before, and quite frankly — he was addicted. He was inexperienced when it came to the subject of sex, but gazing down on humanity for as long as he used to had given him enough of an idea of what to do.
Sukuna stood up, hands now gripping your ass as he folded you in half and plunged his tongue in. He loomed over, drinking each and every drop of moisture your pussy had to give him. Your legs twitched, hooking over his shoulders and around his neck to lock him in place. The fallen angel couldn't breathe — but he had never felt so alive in his cursed existence.
"Th-that's so filthy Ryo . . ."
Your voice cracked at the nickname, eyes lidded at the way he parted from you with a wet pwah. Sukuna had pulled back enough, revealing his wet, tattooed chin and glossy strands of your slick connecting his face to your mound.
"Filthy," he mocked, licking a fat stripe up the expanse of your aching pussy. "I am worshipping you, my dear witch — and not even the heavens above can drag me away from you."
He was serious, too, drawing out shrill cries that sounded more divine than any choir he had ever heard. Sukuna was dead set on drawing one orgasm out of you with his tongue first before even beginning to think about his own stirring of his loins.
And that he did — curling his tongue deep within as your first orgasm washed over you. It was so incredibly hot, the way the sensation seemed to clutch at your womb before spreading throughout the rest of your body. Sukuna's mouth didn't stop, not until you were sobbing out weakly from overstimulation. It was only then he set you back down on the couch, casting his eyes down on the prominent tent both cocks had formed.
You noticed too — mustering up enough energy to sit up and tug at the drawstrings.
"Come here," you rasped. "Please."
Sukuna swallowed, nodding as the feeling of instability cascaded over him for the first time in weeks. But when he lowered himself down once more, forehead against yours as he freed both cocks — he felt anchored to you once more. His lips found yours, slow but steady in its movement, and you kissed back.
The sound of your lips on his, smacking and tugging eagerly filled the room, accompanied by a surprised yet pleased moan at the way you could taste yourself on his tongue. "You're shaking, Ryo."
"I know, I know," Sukuna whispered, drawing your lower lip into his mouth. "You have that effect on me, my dear."
His kisses resumed, all whilst a hand tangled in your hair before settling around your throat like a rosary. Sukuna didn't squeeze — he simply let his hand stay there, feeling the way your pulse felt so alive under his hand. He revelled in the way that he was the one making you feel like this.
When he finally pulled off of you with a final kiss to your temple, Sukuna's weeping tip smooched the entrance of where he so desperately wanted to be inside of. It caught against the rim of your hole, popping in ever so slightly before he backed off. It was too much for the man, his hips beginning to move on their own.
"You want this, right? Please tell me you do," he begged through gritted teeth. You clenched around Sukuna, trying your hardest to suck him back into your warmth.
"If you do not fuck me right now, I swear—"
Again, that was all the confirmation Sukuna needed. He only needed to use one cock, the upper one having been jerked off by one of his free hands.
A brief panic flooded you when he pushed in, pussy convulsing as you tried adjusting to his inhuman size. But you could handle it — Sukuna knew you could as his fourth hand travelled down to grope at a breast. He rolled a taut nipple under his palm while you clawed at his bare forearms, relishing in the mild pain before his fingers found your clit. The relief that flooded him was almost unbearable as your mild discomfort ebbed away into growing pleasure.
That was when Sukuna finally let go.
His name left your mouth half garbled as he bottomed out into you, your pussy stretching in ways it never had before.
"F-fuck, Ryo—"
Sukuna had to still, the two of you panting in near unison as you processed the feeling of his blunt head almost kissing against your cervix. Each plump vein adorning his cock had you fluttering around Sukuna, making him drop down and press his forehead to yours once more. His breathing came out ragged, four eyes having squeezed shut as he processed the feeling of being inside someone for the first time.
"You are so-so warm," he uttered. "You feel so alive."
You didn't have a chance to respond, hips bucking as Sukuna withdrew his hips. The dragging pull out of you felt like an eternity before he fucked back inside — making you feel each aching inch that he reserved for you alone. Sukuna watched the way your pussy clung onto him, etching the way it sucked him back into his memory.
Then, he saw the way your eyes threatened to shut on him, a blissed-out look crossing your face as his thrusts grew in tempo. Sukuna rolled your clit between his fingers, making you gasp sharply and come back to reality.
"Eyes on me," he drawled, hips not stopping for even a second. "I want to be the one you look at when— fuck, I make you fall apart on my cock."
You don't know where he had learned to talk like that, but it wasn't like you minded. After all, Sukuna had noticed you get increasingly more wet, making the glide all that more delicious as he rutted into you. The slick sounds of skin meeting skin filled the hut, obscene in all its glory. It felt primal, and Sukuna had truly never felt better.
At one point, Sukuna had lost himself so deep within the throes of pleasure, and his mouth had started to run. "Tell me, I need to hear it," he asked greedily, desperately. "Would you damn yourself for this? For me?"
A laugh left you, shaky and delirious as you nodded. "Yesyesyes, mmh. D-don't stop please," you gasped out, clutching onto Sukuna like he was your lifeline. "Heaven is right here with me, Ryo—"
That was all it took for Sukuna's entire pace to change. He fucked you like a man possessed, driven by the carnal need to mould your pussy to the shape of his thrusts. His upper cock leaked profusely, smearing the bulge in your belly with pearly white.
Heaven, heaven, absolute. Fucking. Heaven.
You had spoken the truth — it was right there with you both. Sukuna buried his flushed face in the crook of your neck, biting down with as much restraint as he could manage and littering your neck with a scattering of marks. "My salvation."
One hand splayed over your stomach, pressing down as you cried out for the nth time. Orgasms had bled into each other, until your nails had raked down the healed scars on Sukuna's back. It was that sensation alone that elicited a full body shudder from the former angel.
A warmth filled you up from the inside, your vision blacking out as you came alongside Sukuna. He stayed buried deep, having slotted his lips against yours but not moving. You were cocooned within his safe arms, your head cradled in one of his hands. You both twitched against each other, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm and taking in the way Sukuna's cock continued to leak steady roped of cum.
Neither of you moved right away either. Sukuna stayed where he was, half kneeling and half slumped over you.
Then he slid out of you, gently hushing you when you grimaced at the floods of cum that seeped out of your hole and leaked into the couch. Well, it was due time for it to be replaced anyway.
Despite having pulled out, Sukuna didn't stray too far away from you — taking a long moment to catch his breath with you seated firmly on his lap. Aftercare was a concept foreign to him, but he'd figure something out — somehow.
"You're very . . . quiet right now," you mumbled hoarsely, prodding fun at the man.
He did that thing again instead of laughing outright — exhaling through his nostrils in fond amusement. "I am listening to your heartbeat, my dear witch. Do not interrupt me now."
You grabbed one of his hands, placing it atop of your bare chest and letting him feel your pulse properly.
"Like this," you coaxed, looking up at him. The river outside continued to ebb and flow, the water curling against the riverbank the way your fingers did around Sukuna's tattooed wrist. He closed his eyes and hummed, relishing in calm after the storm.
For the very first time since his fall, Sukuna felt no pain in the silence that followed.
He had finally found salvation.
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