gojo loves kissing you to sleep. it’s nothing better than having you wrapped up against him with the scent of vanilla and coconut clinging to your skin after your shower. with your head laying underneath his armpit because you claim that’s where your most comfortable but he notices the sounds of you sniffing him quietly.
his lips would start kissing at your temple. tender and gentle because if he kissed you too roughly you’ll get riled up. then his kisses would trail down your face to your eye lids. the brush of your lashes against his lips tickled, and he’d smile against your eyes. after your eyelids it’s your cheeks, your jaw, the corner of your lips. he can feel you smirking.
always.
because next is your favorite part.
his fingers would take hold of your chin and coax your face closer so he could look into your eyes. glassy, hooded and beautiful. your pupils so round, he could’ve sworn they were shaped like the moon outside the window. “my beautiful, sweet girl.” he’d whisper and then press his lips against yours. soft as he sucked onto your bottom lip, and released it, pressing another kiss just as gentle. his calloused hand came to cradle the back space between your head and your neck. keeping you there against him. your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his snow white hair.
satoru broke away from you finally, breathing in much needed air. your chest against his heaved, a whine leaving your now pouting lips. you leaned up, brushing your nose against his. he knew you wanted more, you always do. so he captured your lips once more. devouring every gasp, and sound you made. satoru kissed you like he needed the very air you breathed. his free hand not cradling your head, trailed down your waist and around your lower back to pull you closer to him. so that now you were flushed together, no space in between you just how he liked it.
he could feel your hands began to loosen their hold on his hair. your pants started to even out, and your kisses grew slower, languid. he knew you were just shying away from succumbing to sleep right then and there. so with one final audible wet muaw, he parted his swollen lips from your own.
and satoru watched as you curled your face into his neck, humming in contentment. his hand cradling your head moved to caress your cheek. willing you away from him and to the beautiful land of dreams where’d you’d reunite with satoru somewhere in a field of flowers.
because no matter what, in every life, in every dream and nightmare, in the middle of a battle with curses, you and satoru knew you’d always be right in his arms. kissing each other to sleep or awake like a ritual of ultimate love.
reincarnated as a man? your husband still adores you. even in this new era, even with your new body, 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 makes it a point to teach you how to pleasure this new self of yours.
“relax,” his gruff voice crooned at the end. your head's limped back on his shoulder. brows twitched, jaw slack. pleasure pricked your spine and along the curve of your dick.
“kuna, fuck,” your whine was met with a calloused thumb pressing firmer on your throbbing tip. he nuzzled between the flesh and stroked on the oozing slit.
“there we go.” another hand was wrapped firm on your shaft, jerking slowly, as if trying to thread away at your sanity bit by bit.
yet another hand cupped your balls. squeezed. the eager mouth on his palm flicked along the curve, slicking you in both saliva and your own precum.
“this is how you pleasure yourself.” heat trailed down your neck with his kisses. he rolled his hips against the curve of your ass and grunted as you spilled all over his palm. that greedy tongue went lapping again.
“although, I don't mind you fumbling around a bit,” a firm squeeze around your cock sent you bucking and whining.
“gives me all the more reason to touch this body that's mine.”
ѕυммαяу： ♡ it's your first sleepover with your boyfriend gσנσ ѕαтσяυ. the nerves you experience keep you on your toes and while you'd expected to sleep with him tonight, what you weren't expecting was just how much he'd been holding back all this time... your boyfriend is a secret perv?!
To say Gojo’s apartment is intimidating would be an understatement. Not just in the sense that it’s large and expensive but also because it’s your first time sleeping over. The first full night… alone… with your boyfriend. You’re nervous, the relationship is on the fresher side, and you’re worried about how tonight will go.
If you had to describe the relationship, you’d say you’re still in that stage of trying to be a better version of yourself for the other. You haven’t even gone past second base together, just another thing you’re nervous about tonight. It’s probably showing, you’re lingering awkwardly at the entrance of his home.
He stops when he realises you have, turning back towards you, “What are you doing?” The overnight bag you’ve brought with you is draped over his left shoulder.
“Sorry,” you smile, “just lost in thought,” slipping your shoes from your feet and walking up to him. You try to take your bag, but he steps back.
“My bag now,” he jokes, walking backwards a bit to make sure you’re following him before spinning and walking off a bit more hastily.
“Hey!” your steps pick up in speed after him, and he breaks into a full run once he hears you on his tail. “Come back here!” Chasing after him now, following him into his room where he’s finally stopped.
As soon as you catch up with him, he drops the bag and raises his hands like you’ve caught him for a crime and he’s surrendering. “I’m innocent.”
His back is facing you still and you can’t help but admire just how large his build is. You approach him carefully. “An innocent man wouldn’t have run.”
“Maybe you’re right.” His head turns to the side and he looks at you, eyes sparkling. “Could you possibly forgive me?”
“I don’t know… you don’t seem awful sorry about stealing from a poor, kind, beautiful, ethereal, sparkling—”
“—Oh! Well, I had no idea I’d slighted someone so important and perfect,” grinning wide at you and slowly turning to face you properly.
You pout like he’s seriously wronged you. “And that’s exactly why I don’t forgive you.”
“What should I do to make it up to you?”
“Hmm…” trying to think of something clever to ask for, a kiss? A little cliché. Dinner? You’re pretty sure you’ll get that either way.
Just as you’re mulling over your options, he’s suddenly in front of you and picking you up. Quickly dropping you onto his bed with him following after you, his arms caging you in against the very comfortable mattress. Gojo’s eyes on yours are intense, like he’s lost himself for a moment. It has a thrill running through you.
Trying your best to not sound as breathless as you feel when asking, “And what were you hoping for this to accomplish?”
No reply, his eyes flicking to your lips is the only warning you get before he kisses you. It’s more desperate than you were expecting or are used to. One of his hands moving to cradle the side of your face as he kisses you to the point you’re a little dazed.
Doing your very best to meet the ferocity of his lips but falling short, it doesn’t matter though because he’s pulling away to speak, “I’m hoping to make it up to you.”
And because of the fog over your brain, it takes you a second to catch onto what he means, “I—”
He kisses you again, thumb pressing into the hinge of your jaw so your mouth opens to him. Taking the opportunity he created to lick against your tongue. Kiss deep and a bit messy, growing more and more filthy with each passing second. Already, you’re unbelievably worked up, pussy hot and throbbing.
Again though, he pulls back. This time he asks through kisses, “Is it working?”
Humming back, “Huh?” Too lost in the moment to function properly, chasing his lips.
Gojo laughs a little, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’ll forgive you… this time,” your eyes are glassy when you look up into his.
He falters for a moment, like he’s thinking about what he should do next. Then he blinks a few times quick and stands up with a last peck to your lips. “Wanna watch a movie?”
You pull yourself up onto your forearms and watch him curiously, his back is to you, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Sure, what you got in mind?”
“In the mood for something scary?”
“Does it have to be scary,” flopping back onto the mattress. You don’t even mind scary movies but the ones he picks are… odd.
“Of course not,” he hums, “we can watch whatever you want to.”
Lifting your arms lazily and huffing, “Help me up.”
He approaches you and lifts you up off the bed by your hands without complaint, “You know what you wanna watch?”
“Nope,” you smile up at him, “we’ll figure it out though.”
The both of you end up on the couch after that, your legs resting in his lap as you enjoy one of your favourite films. You’ve seen it a bunch of times and you will continue to watch it every opportunity you get. When it’d appeared on streaming and he said he’d never watched it before, you jumped at the chance to show it to him.
Every now and again, you’ll look over to see if he’s enjoying it. Feeling uncertain because, while his eyes are on the TV, he’s fiddling in his spot. Leg jumping or readjusting every few moments. It has you sitting up to crawl over him just so you can get to the remote.
“What are you doing?” he laughs breathlessly.
You pause the movie and kneel back beside him, “You’re not paying attention.”
“I am! I’m invested like crazy.”
“Tell me what happened in the scene we just watched?” You challenge.
“Uh…” he looks away from you and thinks for too long before saying, “Okay, so maybe I’m a little distracted but it’s not my fault.”
Frown falling over your features as you ask, “Whose fault is it then?”
“Don’t pout,” hands reaching for you, grabbing your face on either side, “you’re so cute.” Planting a soft kiss to your lips.
“I’m not pouting.” It’s not convincing, since he’s squished your face and forced your lips into a pout.
His big hands pinch your cheeks together a little more, completely amused look on his face. “You definitely are but it’s very cute.”
“I’m not trying to be cute.”
“You don’t have to.”
Another kiss to your pouty mouth, and then another, and another. Continuing his onslaught of kisses until he’s deepening it. Grasping the back of your head and tipping you back so he can have better access.
You manage to pant at him, “You can’t distract me too.”
“You gotta let me try first,” lips tracing the line of your jaw.
“You never answered my question.”
“I thought the answer was obvious,” he laughs, mouthing at your neck now.
Whinging half-heartedly at him, “Satoru, this is my favourite movie.”
“I know but you’re my favourite, ever.”
Your arms reach up to wrap around his neck, holding onto him as he leans you back into the couch cushions. Still kissing your neck, softly nipping at you every now and again. Getting more daring and sucking hickeys into your skin as your breaths come heavier.
Stifling down a small whimper to accuse, “Sweet talker.”
“Of course,” his words vibrate through you, “always for you.”
“Satoru,” huffing because his mouth is hot on your skin and his teeth are grazing over where he’s just sucked and you’re very quickly getting dizzy.
“Yes, sweetie?” he mumbles back, attention still very much on where he’s mouthing against you.
“We were supposed to be watching a movie.” And if your complaint comes out half-hearted, that’s because it is.
“I knowww,” he whines, resting his chin on your sternum and looking up at you through his pretty lashes, “but you distracted me.”
Threading your fingers through his hair absentmindedly and replying, “I didn’t do anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” he leans into your touch, enjoying how your nails scratch lightly against his scalp. “Can’t stop thinking about you.”
He’s sweet and his words make your heart skip but you take the opportunity to—not so subtly—guilt trip him. “And that’s why you can’t focus on my favourite movie?”
“I’m sorryy,” his words drag out as he buries his face against you. And then he must get distracted again because he mumbles, “hmm, you smell really good.”
Excitement shocking you as he drags his nose further up your body, eventually nosing into your neck. His breath tickles against your skin as he inhales your scent and you’re reacting to it more than you thought you would.
Hands pushing lightly at his shoulders, “Satoru, stop sniffing me.”
“But you smell so good,” audibly breathing heavier against you.
You’re flushing under him, growing hotter the longer he rests his weight on you and tickles against your sensitive neck. Gojo decides then, that it’s the perfect time to just lick against you. Tongue trailing over your already delicate skin.
The suddenness of it jolts through you and results in a moan pulling from deep inside your chest. A little sound you’d been holding down so well until he’d unintentionally toyed with you. It has him stilling above you and you’re worried you’ve done something wrong, maybe he didn’t like that you’re getting turned on from him showing affection.
Starting to spiral when he does it again, pulling another noise from you because he’s chosen to also nip against you. Feeling hot from arousal and shame, bumbling out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– I don’t know why—”
“—Woah,” he cuts you off with a small laugh, “Why are you apologising?” Moving back so he can look you in the eyes.
Your hands raise to cover your face, muttering out a reply that’s barely audible.
“You know I couldn’t hear that,” you don’t have to peak a look at him to know he’s smiling, you can hear it.
“I’m embarrassed!” words still coming out muffled behind clasped hands.
“Because you moaned?”
“Shut up—”
“—Woe is me,” he starts, “my pretty girlfriend moaned while I was playing with her.” He wraps his hand around your wrist and pries it away from your face, “It’s so weird that she would do that! I mean, all I was doing was making out with her and then teasing her where she was sensitive. Why would she get turned on from that?”
Brows pinching at him, “So, you were doing it on purpose?”
He’s grinning now, “Did I know how sensitive your neck is?” he pauses, “Sort of. Did I know you were going to be that affected?” Another pause, “A guy can hope.” He kisses your cheek, “I also do just think you smell really good though, you getting horny is a bonus.”
The acknowledgement that he’s aware of your growing arousal only makes this harder for you. He’s always been annoyingly observant, especially when it comes to you. “Do you enjoy embarrassing me?”
“A little.” Opening his mouth to bite onto the fat of your cheek, “But that’s just because I really like your reactions.”
“Stop tormenting me, we’re meant to be watching a movie.”
“Sweetie,” his head drops to your collarbone, “I’m way too hard to sit through a movie.”
“What?” You’re a bit surprised, you know you probably shouldn’t be but he’s being a lot more forward than you’re used to and he’s already stopped a heated session once today in favour of a movie.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you stepped foot in my apartment and now you’re all horny under me and moaning over me getting off on smelling you,” his words keep tumbling from him, “there’s no possible way I’m getting through the rest of this movie with you beside me unless I’m touching you the whole time, I barely made it through what we have watched.”
His confessions make you squirm, tummy flipping at the gravity of it all. “What are you gonna do now then?”
“I’m hoping… that my very sweet girlfriend will let me touch her, lots,” leaning up until his lips are on yours and taking your breath away, “because I’m needy for it.”
Not letting him kiss you again as you pretend to be in deep thought, “Hmmm….”
“You’re on a real mean streak today,” he huffs.
“When was I ever mean to you?”
He looks at you for a moment and then, “Don’t be petty by bringing up the past.”
Scoffing at him, “You’re the one who brought it up first!”
“You’re being mean right now by not answering my heartfelt wishes.”
“You’re so hard to keep up with, Satoru.”
Laughing at his silly antics a bit and when he pouts at you because of it, you kiss him again. Lips slotting over his easily as your fingers tug at his hair. It pulls his focus well enough, humming against you as he kisses you back.
He’s impatient this time though, his kisses messy and needy and all the built-up feelings of being forced to sit through a movie without touching you. And then he readjusts so his erection is resting right over your core and you’re gasping. Finally feeling the evidence of his earlier words. How he’s managed to be this hard and still joke around, you have no idea.
The way he kisses you is dizzying. Before Gojo, you had never experienced a kiss that worked you up so carefully. It’s like he knows exactly how to build you up, what exactly about this you enjoy. It feels good, it feels so fucking good. Is this what kissing is supposed to feel like? You’re growing addicted to it, how it feels to be overwhelmed by his lips.
So lost in it that when he pulls back by sucking on your tongue, you moan pitifully. Gojo bristles over top of you, his eyes lighting up. Pecking your mouth again and trying to coax you into kissing him again but you shake your head, mouth shut.
“Come on, pretty,” he almost begs, “open your mouth for me.”
Not replying verbally, “mhm.” He’s only kissed you and you’re moaning and it’s embarrassing.
“but I wanna hear it again.”
He licks your lips and sucks on your lower one, pulling a breath from you that opens your mouth enough to allow him to shove his tongue in. Lewdly licking against you, kissing deep once more just so he can pull back and suck on your tongue the way he did before.
Giving him exactly what he wanted when you whine, eyes glassy as you look up at him. Gojo shudders at the look on your face, his hips digging down into you. The heavy weight of his erection rutting into you that little bit makes your lashes flutter.
Naturally, he does it again, grinding down into you and watching your reactions carefully. His breaths huffed against your own with how he lingers by your mouth. Kissing you every now and again to greedily swallow down a moan of yours. The pair of you devolving into messes the longer he ruts at you like he’s in heat.
Big hand reaching down to grab at your thigh, pulling at you until your legs have opened enough for him to slot his waist in between them. Hard cock now parting your pussy lips through your clothes as he continues to hump you. His aching shaft catching on your clit and making you squirm under him.
His forehead drops to yours, “You’re so pretty like this,” he’s panting but still talking, like it’s so important you know just what he’s thinking. “All horny and shy,” humming at you, “you’re getting over that though, aren’t you? Is dry humping me making you forget how embarrassed you were?”
“Stop talking,” your lips slam onto his, aiming for his silence.
It’s the first time he’s spoken to you like that and it’s doing things to you. Fresh slick dampening your panties the longer his breathless voice spoke to you. He’s always been a bit of a tease but more in an annoying way. Realistically, you should’ve expected him to tease you during your hotter moments together too.
He retorts through kisses, “I like talking.” Moving back so he can speak clearly, “I like talking to you.”
“Well, I don’t like being tormented.”
“Oh… I don’t know if I agree with that, sweetie.” Grinning at you like he knows something you don’t, “You do know you’ve been meeting every one of my thrusts, right?”
And his words have you gaining awareness of your own movements, giving grinds back up into him. Begging for more friction wordlessly, writhing under him and trying to coax him into doing more, touch you more, anything.
You stop though, hips stilling and flat on the couch. It makes Gojo whinge, “Noo, that’s not what I wanted,” his hand moving to your hip and trying to get you to move, his own grinds coming faster, desperate.
The frantic way he’s moving has your lungs stuttering in your chest, choking on a moan. Legs wrapping around his waist and holding on tight, how he’s rutting against your clit making your stomach flip. And as good as it feels, you feel achingly empty at the same time. Hole spasming around nothing as he gets you closer to that delicious edge.
“Satoru– hff– you gotta stop,” head lolling back onto the cushions, pleasantly foggy.
And just as you’re about to cum, he listens and stops moving. Only resting his lower half on you, smiling patiently down at your face. You’re blearily looking back, displeasure apparently written on your features because he says, “You’re the one who asked me to stop.”
“I know that.”
“Wanna tell me why?”
Mumbling back, “Because I was gonna… finish.”
“I was trying to make you cum,” thrusting forward slightly, as a treat.
“In my pants?” You gape.
“Why not? I think it’s hot.”
“Messy.”
He shrugs, “I bet your panties are already a mess anyways.”
And he says it so casually, like it’s not something new for him to talk like that. But it is, it’s new and exciting and you maybe want him to tease you a little more.
His breath by your ear makes you shiver and pulls your attention back to him. Gojo’s words are low and curious, “You gonna let me see?”
“Are you gonna be nice to me?” Lips curving in a coy smile.
“I’m always nice to you, sweetheart.” But the way his eyes dance with mirth tells you he knows he’s bending the truth, tells you he’s not going to be completely nice to you. The hand he has on your waist dips below your pants, asking, “You gonna show me just how messy you’ve gotten?”
You grab his wrist, “Maybe if you ask nicely.”
“Please…” hovering his mouth right over yours, “pretty please let me look at your pussy. I wanna touch you so bad, sweetie. Please.”
Something evil in you is tempted to deny him but the way he’s pleaded has you wanting him more. Accepting his hot kiss before managing out, “Okay, since you begged so sweetly.”
“Mm, thank god.”
Speaking at the exact same time that he’s moving back to tug your pants off completely. It’s head spinning how quickly he gets them off you. Even more so how he kneels back and spreads your legs with his large hands on your inner thighs. Gaze set firmly on your panties, on the damp spot left behind from your arousal.
He’s just staring and it’s almost worse than his teasing grinds. Frustratedly asking, “Having fun?”
“Yeah. Lots of it,” he grins back.
But he catches onto your impatience and strokes a finger between your folds, biting into his lip so he doesn’t whine at just how slick you’ve made the pathetic scrap of clothing. Already so drenched and he’s only been playing with you a little bit, no judgement from him though, it’s got him hot and stiff.
Using the pad of his finger to circle your clit cruelly, not enough pressure to give you what you want. Or it wouldn’t be, but you were so close not that long ago and the direct focus on your sensitive nerves makes your back arch and lips part.
Gojo coos at you, “Look how sensitive you are,” a tiny bit more pressure just to get a bigger reaction, “look at that.”
“Do something about it,” hips bucking upwards.
He sighs happily, “And what do you want me to do?”
“Anything– Satoru, please, just—” frowning when he withdraws his touch and pushes you down by your hip so you can’t writhe against him.
“—Anything?” He can feel how his heart is leaping behind his ribcage. “You’re gonna let me do anything I want to you?”
“If it means you’ll touch me more.” Lashes sticking together from how your eyes have gotten wetter. “Anything.”
“You won’t regret it, sweetheart.”
And then he grabs either side of your panties—fingers wrapping around the waistband—just to tug them upwards forcefully. The material moulding to your pussy obscenely, and with your wetness and the pale colour, they’re almost rendered completely see-through. There’s nothing left to the imagination, and it’s got your skin warming. Trying not to fidget too much as a result, since you did say he could do anything to you and he’s not done much of anything yet.
Gojo can’t help himself, fingers tickling against you. His touch so much more overwhelming now that everything is pressed tight to your delicate skin. Nearly able to trick yourself into thinking he’s directly touching you, his warmth enticing you. The urge to raise your hips and grind into him taking over, only to be snuffed out. His other hand firmly planted on your hip and holding you down.
“I was right,” he rumbles, “you’re all wet and these panties are ruined.”
“They might’ve been fine if you hadn’t– hnn—”
Cut off by him poking at your entrance, material stopping him from doing anything but the taunting to your needy hole makes you weak.
He encourages you—or he mocks you—your fuzzy brain can’t quite tell right now. “‘If I hadn’t’ what, pretty?” Before you speak though, he’s clear, “Say it properly.”
“If you hadn’t– hff– hadn’t pulled my underwear into my– my pussy, they’d be salvageable.”
And when you squeaked out, ‘my pussy’ Gojo’s breath stuttered almost to a complete halt. He can feel the way precum dribbles from the tip of his cock. He wants to hear you say dirtier things; wants to make you say dirtier things.
Gathering himself enough to retort, “I don’t agree.”
The sound of him shuffling down the couch reaches your ears but you barely register what it is he’s doing. Not until he’s between your spread legs and his warm breath is hitting your soaked cunt. On reflex, you close your legs, but it only traps his head between your thighs.
“Jokes on you, sweetheart, I’m into this.”
He nuzzles himself deeper between your legs until his nose is grazing your panties, and then he pushes into you even further, you can hear how he inhales against you. Soft moan leaving him as he does, and you can feel it vibrate through you. You’d wiggle away so he’s not nose deep in your pussy but he’s gripping the outside of your thighs tight to keep them sturdy either side his head.
“Don’t move,” his voice almost cracks with his desperation. Still shamelessly sniffing you, gaining a perverse joy from it.
Familiar words leaving you, “Stop sniffing me, Satoru.”
“But you smell so good,” he reminds. “Good enough to eat.”
Opening his mouth to let his tongue hang, pressing it to your cunt through the thin cotton. Insistently licking at your clit through the material before trailing down to your entrance and doing his best to penetrate without luck. Somehow nosing closer to you in the process, lapping at you crudely.
Your hand is slapping over your mouth as you gasp, stifling down all your needy sounds. Gojo’s too busy devouring you through your panties to complain, getting dizzy himself with how aroused he is. Hips digging into the cushions below him, grinding against them for that little bit of relief.
Messily mouthing at your core, happily suffocating himself between your thighs. Flicking his tongue against your sensitive nerves, the friction from your underwear making your hips fight against him.
He’s ruining you; you’re panting and curling your toes. Previous denied orgasm leaving you so weak to the pleasure. The hand you don’t have on your mouth slides down to hold onto Gojo’s hair, needing to ground yourself with something. Feverous in how he pursues your high, moaning when you accidentally tug at his hair.
The continuous repetition of his movements has you finally cumming for him, fresh slick gushing from you as your hole spasms around nothing. Feeling the ache of emptiness, especially in this moment. Moans too loud to hide behind the hand clasped over your lower face. The release is sweet and welcome but could be so much better if he filled you, if he took your panties off.
And while you’re distracted and floating in the bliss of your high, Gojo sucks the material clinging lewdly to your cunt into his mouth. Savouring the taste of your cum on his tongue as he licks and sucks at the now sopping wet mess that is your cotton panties. If they weren’t ruined before, they certainly are now. Enjoying himself immensely, delighting in the flavour that is you.
As soon as he speaks, your underwear drops from his mouth and he almost regrets having to say anything. “I’m taking these off now, sweetie.”
Your head feels heavy as you look him in the eye, “Please.”
His heart skips a couple beats, “You’re so cute,” then he tears your panties off. Ripping them at the sides to get them off as quickly as possible. Making eye contact with you as he gives one last deep inhale directly to the material itself.
Whinging, “Stop playing with them,” trying to lean up to snatch them away from him but he moves them out of reach.
“Ah,” he tuts at you, “these are mine now,” tucking them into his back pocket. Sneering at him has the opposite effect, it has him getting close to you just to say, “Careful, sweetie, I can only get so horny.”
There’s one word floating in your head regarding him right now—pervert—your boyfriend is a degenerate pervert, and you had no idea. The hazy look of lust overwhelming his features completely. You find yourself wondering just what else he’s into that he’s keeping from you.
“Satoru,” you call to him, gaining his attention on you wholly, “Have you always been a pervert?”
“Maybe,” he replies cryptically with an easy smile, not even bothering to deny it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging at you, “I didn’t really take any notice until after I met you.” His hands slide under your shirt, slowly pulling it upwards.
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or not,” you laugh.
“I think… you should be lifting your arms so I can take your top off.”
Still a little docile from your recent orgasm and easily listening to him, arms raised over your head so he can undress you the rest of the way. At your bare chest on display, he’s shamelessly staring. A split second later, he’s groping. Kneading your tits between his hands as he rolls your nipples between his index fingers and thumbs.
You hiss at his pinching, “Easy.”
“Mmm, sensitive all over, aren’t you?”
Dropping himself so his head is between your breasts, kissing at your sternum, leaving behind love bites as he nestles himself there. Turning his head to the side so he can kiss your boob, apparently warming you up for his next move. His mouth opening wide to envelop your nipple, sucking and nipping at you, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.
His clothed dick rutting against your bare cunt makes you keen into him, huffing a whine as you wrap your legs around his waist. Feeling sickeningly needy as you grind up against his erection.
Gojo’s huffing out his own small sounds, kissing his way up your body until he can take your lips in his. Making out with you hotly for a moment before departing in such a cruel way, licking over your lips as he goes.
Nipping your lower lip as he informs, “I’m gonna open you up on my fingers now.”
“Good,” boldly stating, “I feel empty.”
He could swear he hears the sound of his own heart breaking, “I know, pretty,” he pouts at you, “I’ll fix it.”
Deft fingers glide down your body, not stopping until they slip through your glistening folds. Gojo chokes on a groan and drops his head, your pussy so creamy he’s overwhelmed. Single finger welcomed easily by your greedy hole, sucking him in and clinging to him desperately. He crooks it upwards just to watch you moan and shudder.
The wet clicking sounds of his digit moving inside your snug cunt makes him restless. Suddenly announcing, “I need to watch this.”
Getting himself back into his previous position, his body no longer over top of yours making you feel somehow more exposed. “No, don’t look.”
“Sweetie…” he laughs breathlessly, “I plan on putting my dick in you, don’t get shy over me watching you take my fingers.”
A bit incoherent in your reply, “Perv– you’re probably– hng– probably gonna like it too much.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely gonna get off to it.”
You’ve not persuaded him to not watch how his fingers fill you. Lecherous grin on his face as he slides another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open on them. His digits leave your hole all shiny and slick from arousal, dripping down into his palm.
“Fuck– you’re so fucking wet.” His other hand holds your left thigh, keeping you spread open for him. Not that you could close your legs anyways, not with him in-between them. He continues, “Baby, you’re killing me here. I’m definitely getting off to this by the way, I’m so goddamn hard my dick hurts.”
Half-heartedly chastising, “Shut up– hng– stop being such a– ah!– perv.”
“But I’m your perv,” he pouts like he’s offended when you both know he’s really not.
Gojo’s mouth is watering as he watches his fingers slip in and out of you repeatedly, lulled into a hypnotic sort of trance. Finding himself further between your legs and stuffing his tongue in alongside his scissoring fingers before he knows it. The addition has you squeaking, moaning loud as he laps at you in time with his digits.
The slurping is obscene and driving you both wild, maybe him more so you. You’re writhing and trying to stifle down your moans. Hand back in his hair like earlier and trying to contain his movements but utterly failing. Gojo is ravenous, turned on and losing his mind. Eyes rolling in his head as you whine all embarrassed and shy like.
“Stop, it’s embarrassing– oh my god—” lashes fluttering and your stomach flipping as his nose digs against your clit.
If his mouth was free, he’d reply ‘I know,’ because he does know and it’s just another thing to turn him on so much that he’s dizzy. But his mouth isn’t free and he’s almost completely certain you’re about to cum again. Moving the hand from your thigh to your lower tummy, pressing down to add delicious pressure that makes your squirming heighten.
“Wait– hng– wait, it feels different– I’ve never– hah– Satoru.” You’re trying to warn him that it feels weird, unfamiliar. You’ve never felt such intense and white hot pleasure before and it’s got you worrying.
On the other hand, Gojo doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. Only speeding up his movements, his usually bright eyes a few shades darker and focused on your face as he continues fucking you with both his fingers and tongue. Spurred on by your pitiful whines, crooking his fingers to hit the sweetest deep spot each time.
Just as you’re about to raise your concerns again, you’re cumming, hard. Orgasm ripping through you and making your head feel like you’re floating. Whole body wracked in shudders as your pussy feels fucking insane. Throbbing hot and dripping around Gojo’s fingers and tongue, making an even bigger mess than before.
Gojo pulls his digits from you first and then sloppily tongue kisses your cunt, if you were to ask, he’d claim he was cleaning up but he’s only making a bigger mess. He’s desperately grinding down into the couch, worse than before. He’s got it so bad right now, his cock pulsing hot in his pants, begging to be touched.
Lazily, you raise your head to look down your body and you’re hit with an overwhelming amount of embarrassment. Gojo’s couch a complete mess, and all ruined with your orgasm, slick leaking into the cushions.
“Oh my god… Satoru, I’m so sorry.”
He’s still busy with tonguing your hole, humming back noncommittally, “Hmm?”
“Stop– hff– stop for a second,” pushing his forehead.
“Sweetie, it’s fine,” he assures, but he looks worse than before. Panting heavily and eyes practically swallowed by his pupils.
“But—”
“—No,” diverting his gaze back to your pussy, “you squirted and it was hot, don’t apologise to me for that.” Glancing back up to you, “Let’s make a bigger mess, yeah?”
“I’ve never…”
“You’ve never squirted before?” grin overtaking his features, “that just for me, huh? Just for your perv boyfriend?”
He’s too happy about his pervert title.
You sulk, “Your couch.”
“I’ll just buy a new one and then you can christen that one by squirting on it too.”
“I hate you,” you grumble, not finding his joke as funny as he does.
“No, you don’t,” he says, “in fact, I think you might like me a whole lot,” and then smiling evilly because he thought of something perverse to say, “your pussy sure does.”
Like a diversion, he’s immediately stripping himself of his shirt, torso stretching out as he pulls it off. Giving you a good view of his toned body that you hazily appreciate in your blissed out state. Forgetting to act annoyed at his comment because of it, something he notices and smirks to himself about.
Stepping off the couch for just a moment, long enough to remove his pants and boxers. Coming back to you with his dick free of its prior restraints and achingly hard. Tip flushed a pretty pink colour and dripping obscene amounts of pre, it beads from the head and drips down onto the couch; as well as traveling down his shaft.
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
Shooting back at him, “Like you’re one to talk.”
“Don’t be petty,” his eyes sparkle. You glare at him and he has the gall to bite his lip and moan at it. “Enough foreplay.”
On his knees between your legs, resting one hand on your inner thigh while the other guides his length to your cunt, gliding it through your slit. Tapping the head against your clit three times and making you jolt about it. Then trailing down to your entrance and slowly stretching you open.
Gojo’s sight is trained on where he’s splitting you open, his breathing stuttered and heart going a million miles a second. His tip is so sensitive and you’re drooling silky, soft and wet on him, he’s light-headed about it. Feeding you more of his cock so slowly that you’re whining at him, but he can’t go any faster. Not only does he want to savour it, but he will cum if he moves too fast.
He’s taking so long and all you want is to feel him hit your womb, feeling antsy now that you’re finally getting filled. Looking at him through the tear drops resting on your eyelashes, taken completely off guard by the sight of him.
“Are you okay, Satoru?” Hand reaching for his face only to be grabbed and taken in his.
Deep blush dusting his cheeks and down to his chest, “I’m– hnn– I’m fucking fantastic, why?”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Hmm?” he tilts his head, confused. And then he feels it, his nose dripping blood onto his mouth, he smiles wide at it.
The sight of him grinning while blood mixes with and stains his teeth shouldn’t be as hot as you find it to be, but it is. Pulsing around him at the image, turned on by his borderline feral depravity. His tongue licks over his front teeth, lazily cleaning the blood.
Rolling his head back to look down his nose at you, “Don’t worry about it, baby.”
“But– hah—”
Shutting you up with a quick, sharp thrust forward. “Oh fuck– hff– I’m fine, sweetheart, you just feel so good.”
You can feel the veins of his dick throbbing inside you, pulsing against your walls. It’s devastating, the thick stretch of him already making you feel faint and the added feel of his own need rendering you useless. Already so full on his cock, wiggling against him a bit. It only makes him grab hold of your hips, hissing through his teeth.
Looking at him and asking, “Is it all in?”
His breathless reply, “is it all—” smiling softly at you, “yeah, basically.”
“Liar,” you pout.
“Yeah,” his smile turning a little devious as he sinks deeper still.
He’s focusing so hard as he keeps moving his hips forward, feeling high strung and on edge. You’re so inviting, loving on him so sweetly. Truly believing he’s like… five seconds away from cumming prematurely. Mustering up every ounce of self-control he has to hold himself back. The urge to thrust with reckless abandon whispering to him like a devil on his shoulder.
When he does finally sit as deep as he can possibly get, pelvis flush to you, he sighs out a whimper. Shudders going down his spine because it’s unbelievable, finally getting you like this is unreal to him. He’s been wanting this for too long, you, all messy and slightly delirious while split open on his cock.
You’re reaching for him, clinging to his hands gripping your hips. He grabs one of your hands and unfurls it with his own, interlocking fingers with you, “You’re being so cute, sweetie.”
“Don’t talk,” you moan back. Focusing hard on adjusting to him, trying to remain calm.
He sulks at you, asking, “Why not?” But when you flutter around him again at the sound of his voice, he knows exactly why not.
Choosing to lower himself down, the hand holding onto yours raising it above your head as he goes, not letting go. Lowering until he’s flush to you, firm body pressed to you completely. Tucking his head by your ear and blowing on it just to tease you that bit more. You whine at it and struggle against him, but when you realise you’re not getting anywhere, you stop.
Glaring at him, “You’re heavy.”
“You like it.” Grinding against you, his tip kissing your womb.
His voice right by your ear is killing you. “Kiss me?”
“Using my distraction technique?” he moves his mouth closer to yours, “copycat.”
And even though he knows you’re baiting him into shutting up for a bit, it works. His kiss imploring and deep, happily swept up in the impromptu distraction. Able to feel how it turns you on more, walls clingy and twitchy on his dick. It has him putting more into the kiss, tongue filling your mouth and playing with yours. Nipping at your bottom lip and licking over it before locking lips with you again.
The metallic taste of his blood is on your tongue, but it doesn’t change the fact that every time he kisses you like this you forget every other kiss you’ve ever experienced. Moaning into his mouth at it and then whimpering because his dick jerked inside you. Taking the opportunity, you wrap your legs around his waist. He slips impossibly deeper because of it.
Gojo sputters a little, lips disconnecting from yours. Choosing instead to rest his forehead against yours as he pants. Eyes glassy and lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep still. You’re confused on why he’s doing that though, since you’re very quickly becoming impatient.
“Are you gonna move?”
“Gimmie a sec,” he sighs.
Your lips purse at him, “Satoru.”
“Baby, if I move now, this is gonna be over real quick.”
So, you stay still too, silently hoping he gets over this soon. Fingers digging into his shoulders because the ache of him sitting so deep inside of you and not doing anything about it has you questioning how on earth, he’s managing to torture you like this.
Not even fully convinced he’s not doing it on purpose, from what you’ve learned so far, it’s a possibility. This thought has you taking it upon yourself to torture him back, rutting your hips upwards into him. Grinding against his pelvis and moaning at how his tip knocks the deepest parts of you.
The action makes Gojo groan, hand speeding to grab your hip tight and stop your movements. The hand holding yours squeezes once in warning before he’s using his heavy weight to pin down your lower half. The look in his eyes telling you that you’ve successfully enticed a reaction you wanted from him.
“You want it that bad?”
“You’ve been making me wait too long.”
“I’m the one who’s been waiting,” he counters. Slowly pulling out of your sopping wet cunt, teeth digging into his lower lip at the feel. “Been waiting to get you in my house, keep you to myself.”
Your back arches at the drag of his cock, jerking because it feels so good. Finally getting what you’ve been waiting for, the ache inside you soothing with his movement. You’re anticipating his next move, the quick plunge of his descent back into your begging cunt.
He coos at you, “Look at that.” Grip on your hip moving to slide under your lower back, keeping you arched up. “So eager…”
Not even realising you’d been holding your breath until he’s easing himself back in, your lungs releasing the air alongside a soft moan. The hand he has still holding yours is what keeps you grounded, head starting to drift off to the clouds.
Gojo whines as he hits balls deep again, your walls so accommodating to him, like you were made for him. The first proper glide in and out and he’s melting into a puddle, the floodgates opening as he gives up on self-control. Beginning to repeatedly thrust his hips, shallow quick movements because he doesn’t want to pull away from how close he is to you.
You’re struggling to consistently take in breaths, overwhelmed by the onslaught of pleasure. Positively creaming around him as he pummels deep, knocking against your womb each time he re-enters. Full range of movements restrained by his hands on you, forced to stay still and be subjected to euphoria that makes you want to run.
“Fuck!– this feels insane,” his mouth drops and small whimpers stutter from him. “You– hng– you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this.” It’s like he’s lost control of his mouth, revealing things to you he’s been holding back. “Basically– hff– been hard since you got here– oh fuck– that turn you on a little? Knowing your poor boyfriend has been aching since he pinned you down and kissed you until you were a little dumb.”
Your head droops back, his dick hitting the perfect spot. “Oh– right there, ‘Toru– hng—”
He ignores you, carrying on with his babbling instead. “That’s a lie, I was already a little hard just from having you in my home.” And even though he’s not replied to your cries of pleasure, he’s focusing his attention on that same spot that had you whining to him.
There’s not a chance for you to get your thoughts together well enough to reply to him. Gojo doesn’t seem bothered by that though, still caught up on confessing to you.
“Remember when you wore that skirt last week?” It’s phrased like a question, but it isn’t one. “I kept getting low just to see what kind of panties you were wearing,” he moans at the memory, “blue looks good on you.”
If you weren’t so wrapped up and consumed by the orgasm building inside you, you’d find some way to chastise him. Though you’re not entirely sure you even mind, the memories of him blushing a little from that day flooding back to you at this revelation. The idea of him trying to peek under your skirt while you were out on a date together amusing to you. He was sneaky because you didn’t have any idea he’d done that. Now you’re wondering just what else he’s been hiding.
Still prattling on, “Everything looks good on you– hff– drives me insane.” His eyes fall to your chest, jiggling with every thrust, “Your tits always look good too.” Lowering his head to rest between them, teeth scraping at your sternum, “Smell so good– fuck– hng– why do you—” Cutting himself off with a moan, your cunt shivering around him causing his hips to stammer.
Gojo can’t take it anymore, raising off you to rest back on his knees properly. Untangling his hand from yours and soothing it down your body, stopping on his way to grope you. Fingers pinching your nipple and grinning deliriously at your response. That hand continues to slide down your side until he can grip your hip tight, other one removing itself from you back to grab the other.
With his newfound hold, he’s dragging your lower half up with him. Back arched even more now, the new positioning hitching your breath. He hums appreciatively while greedily eyeing your stuffed pussy.
“How– hng—” your lungs squeeze with the effort of talking while on the precipice of finishing, “how long you been– hah– holding back, Satoru?”
He smiles innocently at you, head tilting with his question. “How long we been dating for now?”
There doesn’t seem to be an expectation of a reply though, his cock pulling almost all the way out of you before he’s bucking back inside. Rendering you completely dumb in the process; head lolling back and mewls tumbling freely. The way you’re spread obscenely open, and split even further open on him, it’s intense and good and intense.
The pace he’s set is world shattering; you’re on the fast track for being cock drunk. Eyes rolling as you’re forced to listen to the wet, sloppy sounds of him bullying your cervix. Cunt desperately clinging to him, leaking sweet and slick on him.
As you get closer and closer, Gojo realises and starts begging you. “Please squirt again, baby.” Rearranging himself so one hand can press into your lower stomach, “Please– oh god– please soak me in it,” his voice cracks, “please, for me? Ruin my couch some more.”
“I can’t– hng–” shaking your head at him, “I don’t– ah!– Satoru!”
“You can, I know you can,” tone whingy and broken, “you can because you’re such a good girl for me,” smiling lazily to himself because he knows that got to you, can feel it.
The hand he has on your tummy slides downwards a bit more, basically pressing into your pelvis. It has you tightening around him, the pressure making you shake as bliss fills your veins. His thumb heightens it, moving down to put pressure directly on your clit. Not circling or stimulating in any other way than to make you that bit more sensitive.
Gojo’s gaze flits from your stuffed pussy to your face, his heart wavering in his chest. “You’re so pretty, sweetie.”
His innocent compliment while fucking you so depraved has you unravelling, pulsing hot and sugary sweet on him. Cumming so hard you’re barely able to hear anything but the blood pumping in your own ears.
Almost missing how Gojo whimpers pathetically, stumbling out, “There you go!– hng– that’s my girl– fuck—”
He can’t take how you’re sucking him in so divinely, cunt squeezing him like a vice as you squirt for the second time. Truly making a mess of him, yourself, the couch. It’s exactly what he wanted, and it has him immediately cumming too. Painting your walls the creamy white of his spend.
“You did such a good job,” he fusses.
Grinding himself into you to ride out both your highs, keeping you tight to his pelvis so he’s balls deep. You’re all sensitive and jittery under him, jolting through your aftershocks. Dazed and lost in the bliss to the point you’re not able to vocalise anything. Stuck dreamily looking up at him and appreciating the way he’s made you feel. Insides all warm and pleasant as you hug around him.
He sings you soft praise, “So perfect for me, baby.” Tugging one of your hands to his mouth and kissing it, “All pretty and sweet on me when you cum.”
You can’t reply with words, well you could but it’s not worth the effort right now. Simply humming back at him as an acknowledgment of his words.
Eventually, Gojo does move, slowly pulling out of you. His sights carefully trained on how his cum slips from your hole onto the cushions below. He’s lowering you back down onto the couch just so he can use his thumbs to part your folds and hold you obscenely open. Primal and possessive feelings flooding him as he keeps watching you leak his seed.
“Stop staring at me,” you mutter, still managing to be shy.
“Fine.” He replies too easily.
And you should’ve known that his easy caving was going to come with a caveat. That being, his fingers collecting the cum that’s leaked from you and pushing it back into your hole. He’s moaning as he feels how your pussy is bloated full of his cum, all creamy and soft.
It’s got him all dizzy, getting down between your legs without a second thought. His tongue licking up his spend, similar to how his digits were moving. Filling your cunt with his tongue over and over, using his mouth to clean you up.
You mewl and push at his head, bordering on overstimulation. He relents at your touch, climbing up your body and landing his lips on yours in an open-mouthed kiss. Sharing the cum he’d just licked up with you, you’re swallowing it down as he keeps his mouth heavily pressed to yours. The bitter taste outweighed by the natural sweetness that accompanies him.
Shuddering over it all, wrapping your arms around his neck and sucking on his tongue. Enjoying the intimacy of a kiss after sex, desiring him as close to you as possible. Wanting to fall into him even further, happy to comply to whatever he wants. Too drunk on all the orgasms he’s given you to be anything but obedient.
Gojo parts from you with a sigh, “I’m hard again.”
You can hardly believe it. “What?”
“You’re just so adorable and you’re all sweet after cumming and I really wanna fuck you while my cum is still inside you.”
He’s such a pervert and the more he talks the more obvious it becomes, “Okay.”
“Fuck– you’re so perfect,” he has to hold himself back from telling you he loves you. It’s really not the time or place to say it for the first time but he wants to tell you so bad.
Everything’s spinning and this time it’s not from your orgasm. Gojo’s grabbed you and flipped you onto your stomach. Pulling your ass cheeks apart so he can guide himself to your weeping hole. Easily sheathing himself back inside your tight heat. He chokes on whimpers as he bottoms out, leaning himself down and using his hands either side your head to keep himself sturdy.
Grinding into you deep and slow, the prone bone position leaving you dumb and shaky. His strokes are unhurried and profound and followed through with force that makes you feel like you might end up squirting for him… again.
“Your pussy is so weak for me, sweetheart—” He can’t finish his sentence, moan pulling from him. Determined to continue though, spitting out, “Already– hng– already feel you getting close.”
Gojo can’t believe how silky soft your walls are, his cum only adding to how insane you feel. The way you wrap around him so snugly and quiver enticingly has got him hypnotised. The sloshing of his own spend fucking back into your womb makes him grin, happy with himself.
“Every time we– hff– we made out and you grinded your warm pussy down onto me without realising had me nearly cumming in my pants.” Apparently, he’s back to sharing more lewd confessions.
Pulling a hand away from the couch so he can tickle it down your spine, pleased with how you throb around him at it. Your reactions intoxicating to him, every little thing you do keeps him on his toes and makes him hard.
“You’ve been– hah– so painfully oblivious to how badly I’ve needed you,” he muses. “I’ve been thinking about you like this the whole time and you had no idea. Sometimes you’d smile at me and I’d get hard.”
“Then you– hng– you should’ve made a move,” words coming out muffled, “been waiting for you to.”
He laughs, “I was trying to be a gentleman.” Hips slamming a little harsher as emphasis.
Apparently, he wasn’t trying that hard considering he just admitted to trying to peek under your skirt on your last date. “Uh huh.”
You’re coming undone quicker than you thought you would, sensitive and worked up. All his talking making you even more needy. The sound of his voice cracking every now and again with a moan doing things to you.
“If you wanna cum, do it.” You can practically hear the grin he’s wearing. “Don’t hold back on me, sweetie.”
“You’re so insufferable,” you whine. “But it feels so good,” lips pursing and vision blurring with your tears.
“I know it does,” he soothes, hand stroking up and down your back, “feels good for me too.”
Repeatedly hitting the gooey spot that has you seeing stars, slack jawed and mewling as he has you cumming for a third time. Not even having to check to know that he’s somehow managed to have you squirting for a third time. A fact that will have you almost crying from embarrassment later but feels so damn good right now that all you can do is float blissfully on your high.
“This is like a dream come true,” he mumbles, words blending together because he’s about to lose it. “Such a little squirter for me, it’s really hot of you.”
Fucking into you a few more times, grinding down to punctuate each thrust before he’s dumping another load inside your cunt. Gojo hadn’t realised he started to tear up until he’s glancing down and his vision is all blurry. Overwhelmed by how good it feels to fuck you that he’s started crying over it. He feels pathetic and annoyed because he’s trying to look at how his cum is drooling around his dick from your overstuffed cunt and can’t because he’s crying like an idiot.
He lowers himself all the way down until he’s resting his front to your back, slightly holding himself up with his forearm so as to not crush you but desperately craving proximity to you. He’s as close as he’ll ever get, literally balls deep inside you and still he wants to be closer.
Pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, overcome with his affection for you. “You didn’t pass out on me did you, sweetheart?”
You’re slow to reply, “Mm, you’re heavy.”
He scoffs, “I’m not that heavy.”
“Yes, you are,” he’s all well-built muscle and you’re all soft and gooey after having so many orgasms.
“I don’t wanna pull out yet though.” His voice coming out pitchy as he whinges. Heart breaking in his chest at the idea of pulling out so soon, you’re still so warm and twitchy. It’s far too inviting to give up so soon.
“I need a shower.”
Able to feel how his chest vibrates with a hum, “Good idea.” Gojo’s thoughts are immediately thinking about how he’ll get to see his semen drip from your pussy down your inner thighs. Now wanting to get you upright sooner rather than later. “I’ll join you.”
“You’re gonna have to,” glancing back at him, “I don’t think I can stand on my own.”
“I’ll take such good care of you,” he promises.
You gasp at how his dick twitches inside you, “Are you seriously getting hard again?”
“Ignore it.” He nuzzles into the side of your neck, chuckling.
He’s insufferable and a pervert and he’s your boyfriend who you’re falling in love with.
α.η. thank you for reading !!! i'm sorry it took me so long to finish but i am, unfortunately, easily distracted :3 i hope you all liked this ! i had a hard time making him perverted enough .. or at least more perverted than i usually write him ☠️ i held back a little because i don't know how freaky we were feeling ......
anyways, thank you again ! i hope you all have fabulous days / nights <3
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
♯ looks like everyone else is running a little late for dinner.. oh well! guess that leaves you alone with toge inumaki. surely nothing could go wrong, right? twt link
the living room was quiet, save for the occasional chime of notifications from their phones.
you were sprawled out comfortably, lying on your stomach with your hips resting right across inumaki’s lap. it was a familiar, cozy position, and you were completely absorbed in your screen, scrolling through a group chat with the others who were supposed to arrive for dinner any minute.
inumaki, however, wasn't nearly as focused on his phone. he held the device in one hand, but his gaze kept drifting downward. and to what you may ask?
well, from his vantage point, the hem of your skirt had ridden up, leaving the soft curve of your ass exposed and tantalizingly close. he swallowed hard, his throat tight behind the high collar of his uniform. he shifted slightly, the friction of your body against his thighs sending a jolt of heat straight to his dick.
just as you started to shift, preparing to roll over and ask him if he thought the others were running late, you felt it.
a warm, broad palm slid beneath the fabric of your skirt, pressing firmly against the center of your panties. you froze, your breath hitching in your throat.
"toge?" you gasped, your voice laced with surprise.
he didn't answer with words, (duh, inumaki’s a cursed speech user), instead, he let out a low, affirmative hum, his fingers beginning to rub slow, deliberate circles over your clit through the thin lace. the sensation was electric, catching you completely off guard. you tried to push yourself up, but inumaki’s other hand came down firmly on the small of your back, pinning you down against his lap.
his eyes flicked toward the front door in a swift, practiced motion, checking that the door was still closed and no one lingered in the hallway. once he was certain you both were alone, a newfound urgency crept into every movement. he wasted no time in reaching under the waistband of your panties, hooking his fingers into the fabric and sliding them down and away, leaving you completely exposed to the cool air of the room and the heat of his touch.
"oh god— really? right here?" you breathed, your face flushing a deep crimson. "toge, someone could walk in."
inumaki just responded with a soft, playful huff, his eyes shimmering with a mix of mischief and desire.
"okaka,” he gave a small, indifferent shrug, lips barely twitching.
he used his hand to spread your thighs wider, opening you up completely, and you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by the vulnerable position you were right now. though, he didn't waste another second, splaying his entire hand and pressing his palm flat against your soaking wet cunt. he groaned a little by how wet you already were and began to rub you with all four fingers, sliding them in a broad, sweeping motion across your clit and your sensitive folds, circling it with a pressure that made your toes curl.
"mmmh.. right there.. good boy," you sighed, arching your back and pressing your heat deeper into his palm. "toge, that feels.. so good.."
he hummed again, a vibration you could feel against your hip, and then he pushed. one finger slid inside you, followed immediately by a second. he didn't stop at the entrance, no, he drove them deep, burying both fingers all the way to his knuckles in one fluid motion.
"oh my god! shit!" you cried out, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping your lips. the sudden fullness was overwhelming, hitting that soft spot inside of you with a precision that made your vision blur. "toge— mmmh! couldn’t you have warned me?!"
a barely perceptible stiffness settled into inumaki’s frame. you didn't notice, not with how fleeting it was, but the noise had shattered the lounge's silence, far louder than it had any right to be. his violet eyes flicked towards the door as he imagined their friends walking in on this scene. well, he couldn't tell you to be quiet in his normal voice without risking a catastrophic command, but he had no choice. he didn’t want to get taunted by his friends for this. not again.
he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered a single, focused command.
"be quiet."
the power of the cursed speech hit you like a physical weight. suddenly, your vocal cords felt locked, the loud moans dying in your throat. you tried to gasp, to tell him how good it felt, but all that came out were soft, pathetic whimpers and shallow breaths.
inumaki seemed satisfied with the silence and began to pump his fingers in and out of you, the rhythm fast and relentless. he hooked his fingers upward, scraping against the sensitive walls of your cunt, mimicking the motion of a dick. his dick. well, he wished it was.
"mmmph— ttt— haaa!—" you whimpered, squirming in his lap. your hands clenched the couch cushions so tightly your knuckles turned stark white, your nails threatening to pierce the fabric, as you chased the orgasm he was building inside you.
he let out a small sound, a soft 'salmon', as he felt your internal muscles clenching tightly around his fingers. knowing you were close, he increased the pace, his thumb grinding harshly against your clit while his fingers continued to hammer deep into your core.
you were shaking now, your entire body vibrating with the effort of trying to scream through the curse. you could only let out high-pitched, muffled whines, your hips bucking wildly against him as you finally peaked, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his hand in a crushing, wet release.
inumaki, however, didn't stop until you had completely gone limp, your breath coming in ragged gasps. he slowly withdrew his fingers with a wet pop and reached for the tissue box at the center of the coffee table, cleaning you up with a tenderness that contrasted the aggression of the last few minutes.
as the initial waves of your orgasm subsided, you remained draped across his lap, your body still humming with residual electricity. the silence of the room felt heavy, charged with the scent of your arousal and the lingering weight of his command.
“bonito flakes.”
"hmmm?" you hummed, your eyelids falling shut with a slow flutter, your mind still wrapped in a lingering haze.
“suck my dick.”
this was lowk short asf plz don’t slime me out 😭😭😭😭 also why are there little to no fics of this freak!!! and i PROMISE ill get back to my bff megumi fics just let ya boy write a bit of angst first…..
my sexy taglist: @lucidsseraphim, @masterandmargerita, @asom2xim, @claerysa, @lillylovestoji92, @p3talswayingindesun, @maroeteez
⌗ 𝓼atoru gojo coos you over the edge ! (˶˃𐃷˂˶) based off this (not a p!link), unprotected p in v, whipped!gojo, praise, pet names (baby/babygirl, sweetheart, angel)
the sounds in the once quiet room are obscene— breathy moans, loud squelching with each precise thrust of gojo's hips, and the bed frame thunking against the wall.
he's so deep inside you, you feel him in your throat. all you can do is claw at his broad back desperately, leaving angry red marks in your wake. "toru– ohfuck--!" you're struggling to catch your breath, "s'too much!" his pace is unrelenting, so the least he can do is talk you through it.
"m'sorry, babygirl, i know" his breath fans over your skin as he coos at you so sweetly, a direct opposite to the way he's fucking into you. "s'big, huh?" he's practically cradling you, holding you so close to his chest that you feel his heart beating a frantic rhythm against yours.
he pulls your face from hiding in the crook of his neck all to press gentle, reverent kisses over your flushed skin. "my precious girl," he praises, "doin' so good for me, my perfect baby" he moans softly when he feels your pussy flutter around him at his sweet words.
"there you go, you like that?" his voice isn't teasing in the slightest, all genuine loving words, all reserved for you.
that familiar heat is growing low in your belly, his cock hitting your g-spot only intensifying the pressure. "m'close– g'na make me cum--" you manage to breathe out some resemblance of a sentence, through his overwhelming affection and each word coming out as a moan, talking proves to be a bit difficult.
"yeah?" his voice is low and smooth, "y'can't help it, i know sweetheart," he rubs your arm tenderly, "gonna help you, okay? can i do that baby?" you can tell just how enamored he is by you, speaking to you and loving on you like you're the only person in the world, gazing at you like you hung the stars just for him.
you nod dumbly, not caring to ask what he means with how fucked-out you are, brain a pile of mush. before you can compute, he snakes his hand down between the two of you and finds your puffy folds, spreading them. you gasp, hands squeezing at his biceps. "s'okay" he reassures you, thumb finding your sensitive clit and rubbing tight circles on the bud.
it's enough to make you cry out in pleasure, enough to make you gush around his cock. gojo groans at the feeling, watching your expression in pure awe. "i know, baby" his pace never falters, so close to the edge himself. "there you go, let it all out–" his balls tighten up as he hits his peak, still holding you close, wanting there to be no space between the two of you. he fucks into you a few last times while spilling his warm release deep inside of you, a heady feeling.
he nearly pants, not bothering to pull out when he flops down beside you and pulls you to lay on his chest. you're worn out, and thoroughly satisfied. "did so good, sweet girl" he's smiling, cooing at you and scratching your back soothingly. you simply hum in response, words failing you.
he lets out a chuckle, "my sleepy angel..." his cheesy words could make you laugh if you weren't so spent, so you settle on curling into the comfort of him further, letting him pamper you with his voice.
as you both doze off, you swear you can hear him whisper a little "love you", and you know he means it. because you're all his, and he's all yours.
frat!kuna is a reward based learner (shy tutor!reader)
this was not how you normally held tutoring sessions: legs tangled in the sheets, sweat slick between your bodies, and not a single piece of clothing on. yeah, this had to be a first.
sukuna’s face was covered in your slick, and by the looks of it, he wanted even more. he buried his face between your thighs for the nth time, and you tugged at his hair in protest.
“no! you need to answer another question first!” you said sternly. or at least, you tried to. you felt the gentle kitten licks he was leaving on your cunt and you folded at his touch. within seconds, you forgot what you were scolding him about, and he forced your thighs apart once more. he mumbled something against your skin, before kissing your thigh.
“hit me.” he said with a smirk. he was doing this on purpose. ignoring your urges to get back on track, only entertaining them when he had you like this—melting like putty in his hands, completely out of it and with only him on your mind.
“t-the probably of the…” your mind went blank on the problem as he pressed a kiss to your pussy before diving in again. you cried his name out as he lapped at your wet folds, thighs trembling as another orgasm threatened to crash over you. he bullied your poor cunt with his tongue, grunting and groaning as if he was in your place. just as you were about to reach the edge, he pulled away and laid on his stomach before you.
“sorry you know me, i tend to get distracted easily… you were saying?” sukuna took in your current state: pupils blown wide, chest heaving, and a look of hurt and confusion crossing your cute face. he immediately felt guilty and apologized.
“i’m sorry, that was fucked up of me. do you want me to keep going?” his eyes searched yours frantically, like he was panicking.
you averted your eyes. you were torn. you needed to actually make use of this session so it wouldn’t be all for nothing…but the way he went down on you felt heavenly. he was scarily good at it, making you feel so good, reaching places you didn’t even know existed, all with just his tongue.
“no pressure, we can go back to studying too. i’m fine with whatever.” he reassured you.
maybe it was the denial of orgasm. maybe you just weren’t in the best position to be responsible right now. whatever it was, you leaned forward and pulled him closer with smile.
“one more. just one ‘kuna.” you cupped his cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. he grinned and raised an eyebrow at you.
“you wanna ask me a question first, don’t you…” he asked reluctantly, leaning into your touch. you giggled and nodded.
“mhm!” he was catching on quite fast. at this rate, he could be the tutor next…
he groaned, but the smile never left face. “alright, ask me it.”
“is weight qualitative or quantitative data?”
“obviously it’s quantitative,” it was his turn to narrow his eyes at you, “did you seriously ask me an easy one on purpose?”
“err… maybe?” you replied all innocently, already spreading your legs wider for him.
“that’s cheating.” he scoffed, but inched forward anyway.
gojo has big fucking hands man.... and he loves using them to grope you, watching his hands dig into your skin. grinning to himself when he realises you get off on just how big they are in comparison to you.
first having the realisation when you compare hands with him, textbook flirting that he probably wouldn't even catch if you hadn't been a little too interested in it. in awe over just how long and thick his fingers are.
it only escalates from there, those hands grabbing at your thighs, tits. then before you know it, he's knuckle deep inside your gooey cunt and cooing at you teasingly, "still like my fingers, sweetie?" canines showing in his satisfied smile at how your walls twitch, "yeah, you love them, don't you?"
caressing all your weakest spots repeatedly, able to reach deeper than you ever could. and his heart is hammering in his chest because you're leaking into his palm and down his wrist so saccharine sweet. pussy drooling for his fingers, loving everything he's doing to you.
gojo uses his free hand to shove two of his digits past your lips, you take them all too willingly. tongue licking between the fingers as you suck on them. a moan rumbles through gojo at it, more aware of his dick now than he had been before.
"you're so cute like this," he praises, "you gonna cum on my fingers?" placing his thumb under your chin while his fingers are still in your mouth, and leveraging that hold to nod your head yes in response.
You and Caleb are accidentally hurled two years into the future, straight into his apartment. Trapped in a closet, you’re forced to watch your future selves fuck like they’ve been starving for each other.
The art that inspired this fic: https://x.com/i/status/2077008975359525093
The heat at Grandma's house during peak summer was its own particular brand of suffering. It wasn't the same as the sharp dry heat of the city, this was heavy and wet and it made the air taste like cut grass and warm concrete. By ten in the morning you'd already sweated through your first shirt. By noon you'd given up on doing anything productive.
Which was how you and Caleb ended up in the kitchen at two in the afternoon, arguing about stupid stuff, because there was nothing else to do.
"We're out of green onions," he announced with his head inside the fridge. "And ginger. Grandma said we have to buy soy sauce and it has to be the right brand."
"Which brand?"
He turned around with an expression that said he had absolutely no idea.
"Great," you said. "Really helpful."
"She showed me once. It has a red label. Or maybe yellow." He pulled out a tote bag from the cabinet and dropped it on the counter in your direction. "We'll figure it out when we're there."
"The market is a fifteen minute walk in this heat."
"Then we should leave now."
"Caleb—"
He was already heading for the door. "Come on."
You grabbed the bag and your sunglasses and followed him out into the heat, which hit you like a wall the second you stepped off the porch.
The neighborhood was quiet on summer afternoons, everyone wanted to be inside with their fans on. You walked beside Caleb through streets you'd both known since childhood, past the park, past the corner ice cream store with the faded awning, past Mrs. Yuen's house with the wind chimes that had been making the same sound for fifteen years.
He was telling you about an incident with a new recruit that had happened at a training exercise last month and you were laughing.
"Did he get hurt?" you managed.
"Bruised his ego more than anything." Caleb pushed your sunglasses up. "Poor guy spent the rest of the session pretending it hadn't happened."
The market was cool and smelled like the same brand of air freshener they'd been using since you were ten. You grabbed a basket and split off toward the vegetables while Caleb wandered in the direction of the snack aisle, which —you'd learned over years of shared grocery runs— meant you were going to spend the next several minutes complaining about his choices.
You found the green onions. Found the ginger. Turned the corner into the snack aisle and found Caleb standing in front of the chips with two bags in his hands, deliberating.
"We don't need chips," you said.
"Yes we do."
"We have food at home."
"Chips are not food, chips are a separate category." He held them both up. "Salt and vinegar or barbecue."
"Neither. We're here for dinner ingredients."
"And chips." He put the barbecue in the basket.
You took it out. He put it back in.
"Caleb."
"It's for the walk home. You'll want some on the walk home."
"You are so—" You stopped, pointed at his chest. "Fine. One bag. And you're carrying it."
He was already reaching for a second one.
"One bag."
"Salt and vinegar for you, barbecue for me. That's technically one bag each which is—"
"That's two bags."
"One per person."
You let him keep both bags because the alternative was standing in the snack aisle for another five minutes.
The soy sauce took longer. You found the section, found approximately ten different brands, and stood there for a moment in silence.
"Red label or yellow?" you said.
"I said I wasn't sure."
"You said you'd seen it."
"I'd seen it, I didn't memorize it."
"Caleb, if we get the wrong one—"
He picked one up, turned it over, put it back. Picked up another. "This one looks right."
He put it in the basket and you picked up a different one, compared the labels side by side, and put his back and kept yours.
He switched them back the moment you turned away.
------
You were outside, bag on Caleb's shoulder, chips already open when your hunter's watch went off.
The sound cut straight through everything. Your hand was in the chip bag one second and at your holster the next, the muscle memory of it faster than conscious thought. The screen had gone red.
Wanderer detected. Class: High energy anomaly. Proximity: 100 meters.
Caleb stepped in close "Behind the market. Let's go."
You were already moving.
---
The alley ran behind a row of shops, narrow and shadowed, the air warping at the far end and that meant the Wanderer had already been there long enough to disturb local reality. You pulled your gun and kept your back to the wall, moving fast. Caleb came in on the other side, gravity already building at his hands, the air around his knuckles bending in a way that meant he was ready.
The Wanderer was enormous, the geometry of it not quite making sense no matter which angle you looked from. It moved fast for something that size, swinging a limb in your direction before you'd fully cleared the corner.
You fired twice. The shots connected and it shrieked, momentum redirected enough that the hit meant for you shattered a section of wall instead.
"Flank!" Caleb called.
You were already going wide. He pulled gravity in from the left, compressing the Wanderer's movement, slowing it just enough for you to get behind it and put three more shots into the joint where two of its limbs connected. It screamed and lurched sideways.
"Keep it off the street," you yelled over the noise.
"Working on it." He dragged it backward with a gravity pull that made the pavement crack under the force of it, steering it further into the alley.
It was not a clean fight. It kept redirecting, slamming into the walls, filling the alley with debris that you had to dodge while maintaining your sight lines.
Eventually the thing started to slow. Eventually it disappeared.
Then you saw it.
On the ground where the Wanderer had dissolved — a Protocore, small, throwing off an iridescent white that you'd never seen from a Wanderer before.
"That's not standard," Caleb said, coming to stand beside you. He crouched down to look at it without touching it. "I've never seen one this color."
"Me neither." You holstered your gun. "I should take it to HQ."
"Agreed." You crouched beside him, reaching for the core at the same time he did, and your hands closed around it simultaneously.
White light erupted.
It collapsed inward, pulling everything —sound, light, air, the alley— into a point of white noise and wind, and then nothing, a few seconds later there was a floor coming up very fast.
You hit the carpet with a thud that knocked the breath out of you.
Caleb landed beside you, one arm slamming down to catch his weight before he pushed himself up.
"Are you hurt," he said, breathing hard.
You did a fast inventory. "No. You?"
"No." He looked up. Looked around.
You were inside a huge apartment. Carpeted floor and warm light from the windows. A long couch. A coffee table with papers on it. A mug. A jacket draped over the back of a chair.
Someone's apartment.
You stood up slowly. Caleb was already at the bookshelf, and you followed, and then you saw the first photo and everything in your chest felt strange.
It was you. You and Caleb, standing somewhere sunny, laughing at something out of frame. You were wearing a jacket you didn't own. His hair was slightly different, grown out and pushed back.
There were more. The two of you at a restaurant, faces close across a small table. A shot of you asleep on a couch, and Caleb sitting at the other end with a book, but whoever had taken the photo had caught him looking at you and not at the page.
Your throat felt tight.
"This is my apartment," Caleb said quietly, from somewhere to your left.
You turned to look at him. He was looking at the leather jacket on the chair. His leather jacket, the one currently in his wardrobe back at the base. A pilot's manual on the shelf, the same one he'd been working through. A mug from the Farspace Fleet. A framed photo of your grandmother that matched the one at home.
"The photos—" you started.
"I know."
He crossed to the coffee table, picked up the newspaper and scanned the top page. He held it out.
The date at the top was two years from now. Exactly two years.
---
You spent the rest of the afternoon going through the apartment with careful attention, very aware you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be. You were trying to understand what the last two years had produced.
Caleb's future self left notes everywhere. Fridge, desk, bathroom mirror. His handwriting but with a different quality to it, more settled. There were more photos than you'd first noticed — tucked into the edges of the mirror in the hallway, stuck to the inside of a cabinet. A birthday card in your handwriting on the desk, standing open. A second toothbrush in the bathroom.
You both looked at that for a moment.
"I'm not going to say anything about any of this," you said finally, standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed.
"Good call," Caleb said, from the doorway.
"I'm —this is a lot of information."
"It is."
"And I'm not drawing any conclusions."
He went quiet.
The sun went down. The apartment went from warm gold to dark while you sat on the floor of the living room eating crackers you'd found in the cabinet, your backs against the couch, the Protocore sitting on the coffee table throwing faint white light across the ceiling.
"We'll figure out how to get back," Caleb said.
"I know."
"Same energy that brought us here should be able to—"
"Caleb, I know. I'm not panicking."
He looked at you sideways. "You're quieter than your normal quiet."
"I'm just thinking."
He nodded slowly. Ate a cracker. Didn't push it, he knew when to let something sit. Almost two decades of knowing each other and he'd learned exactly where the lines were.
You were about to say something else when you heard it.
Voices outside.
Both of you were on your feet before the door handle moved. Caleb stepped toward the entryway on pure instinct and you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled.
"Don't," you said, low and fast.
"I just want to see—"
"You cannot make contact with yourself. Do you understand what that does to the timeline? Do you understand what happens if you alter something?"
"I wasn't going to —"
"Caleb." You got in front of him, hands on his chest, looking up at him with full seriousness. "We hide. Right now. We have to wait."
He looked at the door. The handle was starting to move.
"Fine," he said before he grabbed the protocore and then your wrist to pull you toward the hallway closet in two long strides, opening it fast and pulling you in after him, easing the door shut.
The closet was full. Coats, bags, a stack of boxes on the floor that immediately became a problem because you had nowhere to step back, which meant you were now pressed against Caleb from your shoulders to your knees.
You could feel every breath he took.
"This is very small," you whispered.
"I know," he said, directly behind your ear.
His arms were on either side of you because there was nowhere else for them. His chin was above your head. You could feel him making adjustments to keep whatever minimal distance physics was willing to offer, and it was working as well as you'd expect. Which was not well.
You were two childhood friends in a closet in an apartment that was apparently his, two years in the future, surrounded by photographic evidence of something neither of you had said out loud yet, and he was doing his very best not to press against you and his very best was losing badly to the laws of spatial reasoning.
The front door opened.
Through the slats of the closet door, the living room light clicked on.
"I told you." Your own voice, but looser, threaded through with laughter that had a very specific quality to it. "I told you we shouldn't have had that last drink."
"Yeah," came the reply. Caleb's voice, except it was rougher and stripped of the easy warmth you knew and replaced with something that made the back of your neck prickle. "You were flirting with the bartender just to watch me lose it."
"Maybe I was." Future you sounded unrepentant about this.
Through the slats you watched two people stumble into the living room and your brain took several seconds to process what your eyes were seeing. She was in a dress, form fitting, gorgeous, currently half unzipped down the back. Future Caleb had shed his jacket somewhere between the door and the living room, his shirt untucked with half the buttons open, chest visible, hair slightly wrecked.
Behind you, Caleb had gone completely rigid. You felt it happen, every muscle in his body locking up at once.
Then future Caleb grabbed future you by the waist and walked her backward into the living room wall.
The impact was loud. What followed was louder, the sound of them kissing, which was not the word for what was happening, kissing implied something with more restraint than this. Future Caleb had his hands in her hair and on her waist and sliding down to bunch the fabric of her dress up her thighs, all at the same time.
You made a sound you hadn't planned on making.
Caleb's hand came over your mouth so fast you didn't even see it coming, his palm pressing firm and warm against your lips, his forearm across your collarbone. His chest was heaving against your back and something else was pressing against the small of your back that you were both absolutely not acknowledging.
You made a muffled sound against his hand anyway.
His arm tightened.
Future Caleb pulled back just far enough to speak "You want to play games tonight?" A pause, heavy with intent. "Let's find out how loud I can make you scream."
He pushed his hand up her skirt.
You'd never made that sound in your life. Or apparently you would. In two years. Against that wall.
"Caleb—wait, wait—the couch—"
That was it. That was enough. Your hand shot out in the dark and found the closet door handle and you grabbed it.
Caleb's hand came off your mouth and closed around your wrist, pulling it back against you, his mouth dropping to your ear.
"Don't you dare," he breathed.
"We have to stop watching this—" you hissed.
"If you open that door they'll see us—"
"Then they see us—"
"And alter the timeline," he said. "Your words. Two minutes ago."
He was right and it was the worst possible moment for him to be right.
"Just—" His voice came out strained "Just don't move."
"Caleb—"
"I'm a guy, and you are literally grinding into me," he snapped softly, though there was no real anger in it. His forehead dropped briefly to the back of your head. "Just..." sigh "give me a second."
Outside the closet Caleb lifted her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her the few steps to the couch and dropped her onto it.
His hands yanked the straps of her dress down, baring her breasts. He pinched a nipple, and she arched with a sharp cry. "You are so fucking wet already. Been thinking about my cock all day? Want me to stretch that pretty pussy out right here?"
"Yes—fuck, Caleb, touch me," she gasped, hips grinding up.
Your breath hitched. Heat flooded between your legs, sudden and embarrassing. Caleb's cock twitched against your ass and you had to bite your lip to stay quiet.
Future Caleb reached down and shoved his pants off. You couldn't look away. He was big, thick, flushed, veins standing out. Ready.
Panic hit you. "Don't look," you whispered frantically. "That's... me. Turn around or do something—"
"Like hell," he said against your ear, teeth grazing the shell. "You're the one staring. You like seeing him like that? Seeing what I— what he wants to do to you?"
"Caleb, shut up," you whimpered, thighs pressing together.
He didn't fuck her right away. He grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the edge of the couch, and spread her wide. Dropped to his knees.
"Caleb—" she started, but it dissolved into a broken moan as he buried his face between her legs.
The sound of his tongue working her was loud and messy, completely shameless. Her head dropped back against the cushions, fingers twisted tight into the fabric, her whole body shaking every time he dragged his tongue over her clit in greedy strokes. He licked broad stripes up her slit before focusing on her clit again, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan.
"Fuck, you taste so good,”Caleb growled against her pussy, voice muffled but clear enough to carry.
"Just like that baby” she moaned, one hand fisting his hair, the other still twisting in the couch cushion.
He pinched her nipple hard with his free hand, rolling it between his fingers as he sucked harder. Her thighs trembled around his head.
Behind you, Caleb let out a broken groan that made your knees go soft. His arm snapped around your waist, holding you steady, fingers digging into your hip the exact same way his future self was gripping her out there.
“Fuck,” you whispered, head falling back against his shoulder before you could stop yourself. Your pussy was throbbing, aching so bad it almost hurt.
“Listen to that. Listen to how wet you get for me.” Caleb shifted his hips, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your jeans, dragging the seam right over your soaked cunt.
On the couch, she was losing it. "I need you inside me. I can’t wait anymore.”
Future Caleb pulled back, mouth shiny, breathing hard. He stroked himself once, twice, then lined up and drove into her in one rough thrust. Her legs wrapped around him as he started fucking her deep and hard, the couch creaking like it might give out any second. His back and ass flexed with every thrust, hips snapping forward. “Gonna come on my cock like a good girl?”
He leaned over her, one hand pinning her thigh higher as he fucked her. “Gonna fill you up. Want you leaking my cum the rest of the night. You love being my dirty little slut, don’t you? Say it.”
“Oh my god,” you choked, voice barely there. Watching yourself get railed like that—by him—was too much. The guy whose arms were currently locked around your waist, the same guy you’d known since you were kids, was pounding into a future version of you like he owned her.
She gasped between moans, nails now digging into his back. “Yes—your slut, Caleb—harder—”
“That’s my girl.” His hips snapped faster “Come on my cock like you did last night."
In the closet, Caleb’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, his cock twitched hard against your ass, hips making tiny, helpless thrusts.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, every filthy word making the ache between your legs worse.
“Jesus,” Caleb whispered raggedly “We really talk like that?”
You twisted hard, trying to turn around in the cramped space so you wouldn’t have to see it anymore.
“Stop moving,” Caleb gasped, his control fraying fast as your ass rubbed right over the head of his cock.
“I can’t watch this—let me turn—”
Your foot caught on a heavy boot buried in the mess at the bottom of the closet. Balance gone.
“Whoa—” Caleb grabbed for you, but it was too late. Your combined weight slammed into the door.
The cheap magnetic latch popped open with a sad little click.
The squeaking of the couch cut off like someone had yanked the plug on the whole universe.
The silence that followed rang in your ears. You pushed up on your elbows, face so hot you were surprised you hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Caleb was beside you, shirt rucked up, the very obvious, very hard line of his erection pressing against your thigh.
You both slowly turned your heads toward the couch.
A few meters away, future Caleb was frozen mid thrust, hands locked on future you’s hips, his body still buried deep inside her. She had one leg hooked high around his waist, hair a wild mess, chest heaving. Both of them stared at you with identical expressions of what the actual fuck.
They were a sweaty, flushed disaster, very naked and very, very mid fuck.
“What the…” future Caleb started.
Future you blinked slowly. “Is that… us?”
You opened your mouth, brain offering the most useless sentence in history. “We were just looking for soy sauce—”
The white light from the Protocore exploded again. The apartment, the couch, your naked and extremely confused future selves—all of it ripped away in a roar of rushing air.
Thud.
You hit the dirty alley hard enough to knock the wind out of you again.
Caleb groaned beside you, flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in sharp pulls. You could still feel the ghost of his hardness against you, the way his fingers had dug into your hip in the closet. Your own body was still buzzing, thighs slick, pulse pounding between your legs like a second heartbeat.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then Caleb let out a shaky laugh that sounded half hysterical. “Soy sauce. Really?”
You rolled onto your side, wincing at the scrapes on your elbows. “It was the first thing that came to mind, okay? We just watched ourselves— I mean, they— we were—” You gestured vaguely, face burning all over again. “You know.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
He sat up slowly and ran a hand through his hair. The front of his shorts was still a bit tented. He didn’t bother trying to hide it. You weren’t exactly in a position to judge, your nipples were tight against your shirt, and you were pretty sure your face was the color of a ripe tomato.
The protocore gave one last weak shimmer and dissolved into harmless blue dust that scattered across the pavement.
Caleb looked at you. “So… two years from now, huh?”
You swallowed. “Apparently we, uh… figured some things out.”
He huffed another laugh, but it was softer this time. Almost wondering. He reached over and brushed a bit of alley dirt off your cheek with his thumb. The touch lingered.
“We should probably go”
You nodded, but neither of you stood up right away. The air between you felt thicker than the summer humidity, charged with everything you’d just seen and felt in that stupid closet.
Caleb’s gaze dropped to your mouth for a second, then flicked back up. “When we get back to the house…”
“Yeah?” you whispered.
He smiled, small and crooked and a little nervous, the same smile he’d given you a thousand times growing up, except this one felt different.
“I’m not waiting two years,” he said.
Your heart did something complicated in your chest.
You grabbed his hand, pulled him up with you, and the two of you started walking out of the alley like nothing had happened.
But everything had happened.
And as your fingers brushed again while you walked, neither of you pulled away.
I need to know everyone's reactions to having a bush and then shaving your bush PLEAASE.
Xavier has gotten used to the bush. He loves the bush.
That’s like… his baby low key. That man is slipping a hand down the front of your shorts just to play with your pubes to fall asleep alright?
Like he’s petting the kitty for real.
So when you come out of the shower and she’s bald? He’s a bit stunned to say the least. “You shaved?” The towel has dropped to the floor as you rummage around your drawers for some panties to slip on, turning with a grin to show Xavier the fruits of your labor.
“I did! I saw a hack online and I wanted to try it, it’s been a while since she’s been clean shaven down there… feels so soft, wanna touch?”
You’re wiggling your eyebrows at him, completely unaware of his little mini crisis now that his favorite fidget toy is gone. “…soft?”
Okay, well, maybe he can compromise. "Yeah, super soft, I gotta put some lotion on her though... maybe you can help me out with that?" Oh? Yeah maybe this wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Zayne had been quite shy at first about his love for your bush. Something about it just really, really does it for him, okay?
The further you got into your relationship, the more apparent it became. So? You quite shaving, stuck to cleaning up and trimming when it felt necessary. But never really waxed or clean shaved.
That is, until summer hit and you really wanted to wear this one swimsuit and no matter what you did, the hair was just too obvious.
"Zayne, baby? I gotta tell you something." You actually felt a tad guilty as you peek into his office, towel still clinging to your body. "That... sounds guilty. What did you do?" Break something, maybe? Accidentally post an embarrassing photo of him? No, maybe worse.
"You know that bikini?" Oh, oh no. Yeah, way worse. You could see the horror dawning on his face before you could even drop the towel. "Zayne, please, I had to..." But his eyes look like that of a kicked puppy, his work abandoned as he swivels in his chair. "You didn't..."
"I had too." You whine, opening your towel to show your clean shaven, hair free, smooth, bush-less kitty. He nearly falls to his knees.
Rafayel has never really cared either way, honestly. He's quite used to being relatively hairless down there due to being Lemurian.
He doesn't expect you to shave or wax to meet those "standards", he doesn't mind you having a bush in the slightest. He actually is rather fond of nuzzling it after he eats you out.
"Raf..." You breath into the kiss, head tilting back as his lips trail lower towards your jaw. Their end destination currently throbbing between your thighs. "Hurry... I don't wanna wait..."
You're squirming, ungracefully trying to kick off your shorts as you feel his lips curl into a grin against your heated skin. "Fine, fine, cutie. Someone is impatient." Pulling away, Rafayel easily yanks your shorts and underwear off in one go, trying not to do a double take when he's greeted by the sight of your bare, clean shaven pussy.
"What inspired this sudden style change?" You blink up at him, nearly forgetting you had shaved yourself while showering this morning.
"J-just felt like it. Does that really matter?" You spread your legs a little further, a little more of your dignity flying out the window as you pleaded for him to please you just how you loved him to.
"Nah, it doesn't. But she looks cute like this... looks cute all the time though..." You can't dwell on it, not when his head dips down and disappears between your plush thighs.
Sylus prefers your grooming habits to be whatever you're most comfortable with. He loves the bush, loves when you're clean shaven, doesn't matter to him so long as you're comfy.
"I did something today." You grin as you plop down beside him on the couch, a freshly poured glass of red wine swirling in your cup as he nurses a second cup of whiskey. "Something exciting, it seems?"
You try and swallow your grin but are unsuccessful, holding the crimson gaze that is peeking at you over wire rimmed glasses.
Sitting on your knees, you take a small sip of the liquid before leaning closer to your lover. "I shave my kitty today."
It had been months since you had gone fully bald. Trimming was one thing, keeping her neat and clean was another. But totally bare, Sylus couldn't recall the last time he had seen it. "oh?'
"Wanna see?"
"Of course I want to see."
Setting your wine glass on the coffee table, you push up on your knees and yank down the front of your shorts. Shamelessly flashing Sylus with a far too innocent grin on your face. "Nice work, kitten. Not a single nick or sign of irritation. I'm impressed."
Caleb has always been fond of the bush, he especially loves when it gets a little wild and grown out. Sticking through your undies, peeking out the sides. You very rarely let it get that long though.
"Hey colonel." You're relaxing on your shared bed when he shuffles into the room, eyes easily looking over your frame and doing a double take.
"You...shaved her?"
You sit up slightly, peering down your body with a raised eyebrow before looking up at Caleb again. "You're sick and twisted, how the hell did you know I shaved my cooch just by looking at me?" But it's the way your panties are sitting on your hips, the way there is no hair peeking.
"Just... know you. That's beside the point. What made you shave?"
The colonel hat hits the dresser, then the gloves, all the while his eyes are locked on you with intent. "Just... got bored? I don't know I haven't done it in a long while. Do you not like it?"
The look that flashes across his face makes you feel stupid for even second guessing. "I was just curious, pips." His feet fall heavy as he walks towards you, immediately falling to his knees when he hits the edge of the bed. "Should I show you how much I like it?"
Valko is a wolf, naturally he's used to people having body hair. He finds it mildly odd when they don't. But like, your preference, you know?
So, he makes you aware of that right from the start of your relationship. Letting you know that you don't have to shave for him, that you don't have to be hairless for him. He loves some body hair, he loves the bush.
"Woah... did I miss something?" You've gotten comfortable with changing in front of him, not thinking twice as you strip from your uniform to hop in the shower. "Huh?"
"You uh... you shaved it off..." peering down, you realize his amber eyes are locked on the freshly shaved front of your pubic bone.
"Oh, yeah. I don't know I just felt like trying it out, it's been a while since I've done it. Do you not like it?" Valko's jaw actually drops at the question. Him? Not like your pussy? What?
"I'd be a moron if I didn't like it, but you know I love you with hair, right?" He really wanted to make sure this wasn't an insecurity thing. At that realization, you can't help but grin, stepping forward to place a chaste peck on his lips. Finding it oddly touching and adorable.
"I do know that... but do you wanna feel how soft she is now?"
Pairing: Prince/Firelord!Geto x Belly Dancer!Reader x Prince Zuko
Synopsis: You are hired as the live entertainment for the Fire Nation's annual celebration as a belly dancer, groomed to dance for the elite and wealthy. You entertain with your body for a living and you're happy to do so, finding purpose and enjoyment in your dancing. Unbeknowst to you, two certain Firelord brothers have found enjoyment in your dancing as well and they are prepared to show you one hot night within the privacy of a bedroom.
Warnings: 18+; No Curse/Avatar AU; Brother!Geto x Brother!Zuko; Incest (but not really cuz they not f*cking each other lol); Threesome; Seduction; Body Worship; Curvy!Reader; Belly Dancing; Stripping; Dom!Geto x sub!Reader x Switch!Zuko; Dual Pussy Eating; Sharing Is Caring; Dual Blowjob; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Spit Play; Doggystyle; Mating Press; Breeding; Raw Creampies; Mild Power Play; Reader Cums 3x; Aftercare
Word Count: 9.1k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: This is my first installment for @madamechrissy's crossover collab!! Y'all please go give her ALL the love, grace & praise because she deserves it!! This woman is just as amazing just as a person as she is a writer & I'm honored that she puts up with my horny ideas lmaoo enjoy!!! <3 -Jazz
Credits: Zuko x Geto fanart found on Pinterest! If you know the artist, PLEASE tag me so I can properly credit them! Divider by @cursed-carmine!
You stand at the threshold of the master bedroom belonging to the Firelord, Prince Zuko, the polished mahogany doors staring back at you.
Dozens of Fire Nation guards, tasked with protecting the royals, stand outside against the wall, two on either side of you. They were the ones who guided you here, telling you that the Firelords requested to see you tonight.
You have every assumption as to why. It isn't a rarity or unaccustomed to you for royal members to request for you after hiring you for a party. You are a dancer, after all...with some other "skills" on the side that you use to your advantage.
While you know how to play the game among the royal court and have no problem refusing to spend the night with any royals after performing for them at one of their grand parties, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to be alone with the Firelords for the night.
You have been around them for some time now. As the royal belly dancer, groomed to dance for the elite and the wealthy, you were bound to make the acquaintance of the Fire Nation Family at some point...including the Firelord brothers. Both calm, poised, mysterious, and devilishly handsome.
They have been on your radar for a long time, filling your endless nights with hot fantasies of the two of them. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes together. Entangled limbs, your fingertips caressing their muscles, their tongues licking stripes across your skin.
You long to tear down that wall of mystery and restraint that the brothers have meticulously built around themselves. Especially that Zuko. He is quiet and stoic, only speaking when required, preferring to talk with his actions instead. Geto Suguru is more open, striking either fear or intrigue into anyone with his charming smile and cunningness.
And now here you are, standing right outside of the brother's doors prepared to greet them. The twirling in your stomach is not of fear but of anticipation, wondering where the night will bring you. You bring up your fist and lightly knock, polite but firm. "Enter," a deep, silky voice commands. Geto's voice.
The voice that has commanded attacks on enemies and brought you to orgasm so many times. Swallowing hard, you twist the doorknob and enter the master bedroom. It is a large, wide space with stone walls and windows overlooking the courtyard and Fire Nation, the summer breeze and afternoon sun pouring into the room.
On one side sits a large king-sized bed topped with pillows of all sizes and arrays of gold and red. The same as the carpets and curtains softly swaying in the summer evening. Geto Suguru, the oldest brother, sits in the middle of the room on the carpeted floor surrounded by a slew of expensive pillows and blankets.
He sits at a knee-level table surrounded with delicacies of all kinds, granite teacups with a brewing teapot, and a bottle of fireflower juice spiked with cinnamon, one of the most expensive bottles of alcohol in all the land. Geto is draped in a fine red robe adorned in intricate gold stitching at the flaps and black pants, his feet bare and black locks cascading down his muscular back.
He turns to look when you enter, his violet eyes piercing a hole into you. The butterflies in your tummy swarm, making your heart pound furiously in your chest.
“You required my services, Your Highness?” you ask, trying to keep your voice level and steady. Alas, it shakes a bit, coming out breathless at the sight of the handsome man. He gives you a small smile that is like a smack in the face. “Yes, little dancer. Come; have a seat. You may not be so formal with me. Call me Suguru."
You blink, unsure of how to reply. It is rare that a royal wants someone who is not within the court to be formal. His smile deepens, humored. “You look at me as if I’m tricking you. I can assure you that my father is nowhere within these four walls.” He then turns to the left side of the room where the light doesn't reach. “Isn’t that right, brother?”
You turn your head and that is when you see Zuko sitting there on a lounging sofa, wearing a black robe to blend in with the darkness. You can just see that his hair is also out, cascading in black waves down his back, and he is sipping some tea. You jump, placing a hand on your beating heart. “Oh! Prince Zuko, forgive me. I did not know you were here.”
Zuko doesn't reply; he only stares, somehow staring right through you. Both of his eyes render you speechless—the wounded one included. Many do not regard Zuko the same way they do Geto due to his burn scar, but you have always thought the disfigurement was quite sexy.
Geto chuckles, pouring himself some fireflower juice. “Don’t mind him. Zuko can be an enigma when he wants to be…which is all the time.” He smirks when his brother gives him a sharp glare from across the room. “Quiet, Geto. Don’t make me request your removal from this room.”
Geto smirks at you, unbothered by his brother's heated threat. “That’s code for “don’t make me murder you”,” he chuckles. “Nice, isn’t he?” He gives you a wink, jutting his chin at you. "To what may we call you? Though we know your name, we want you to feel comfortable."
Comfortable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Many men always say this when you're within the confines of their bedroom, only wanting you relaxed so they may take advantage. "Y/N," you reply, giving the brothers a respectful bow as you shut the door behind you. It shuts with a click, making your stomach flip.
Zuko nods over at the table where his brother sits. “You may sit. Plenty of room.” Geto hums in agreement, a flame flickering from his fingertip as he lights himself a pipe filled with tobacco leaves. The smoke wafts through the air as you slowly walk across the room, feeling their eyes on you.
Though you are covered by a shawl draped over your shoulders, it is mesh, which means your midrif top showing off your stomach and long skirt that doesn't do much to hide your curves. Both red and decorated in gold stitching, dripping in gold beads that clink whenever you twist, turn, or move your hips and stomach when you dance.
You don't feel uncomfortable the way you used to whenever men ogled at your moves. If anything, you feel powerful. But now, under the brothers' hot gazes as you sit at the table, you feel exposed. Your layers peeled back like a fruit.
Geto motions down at the array of finger food before you: cheeses, dates, crusted breads, fruits covered in chocolate. “Would you care for a bite? Perhaps a drink? I have tea, water, wine…perhaps something stronger?” He eyes the bottle of fireflower juice sitting next to him.
You choose wine to loosen yourself up, grateful for the crisp taste as it slides down your throat once Geto pours you a goblet. “Thank you for your invitation, My Lords.
Geto shrugs like it's nothing, smoke billowing attractively from between his pink lips. The bottom lip is piercing with a small ring, unfortunately drawing your attention to his mouth. “Of course. You needed it after that performance you put on, I’m sure.” You act shy and modest, staring down at your wine. “Oh, it’s nothing. For me, that was a simple dance. I have done plenty more complex and strenuous.”
You were hired tonight to perform for the Fire Nation's Royal Family and their close party, dancing among the sounds of the drums and guitars as fire eaters surrounded you, swallowing swords emblazoned with flames. The flames were hot, but you were hotter. You danced like the heat didn't bother you, sweat sliding over your damp skin and curves as you winded and swirled your hips.
As you danced, surrounded by all of the royals, your eyes caught the brothers' gazes through the flicker of the flames, orange and red flickering across their handsome faces. Their unyielding gazes spurred you on, making your hips move faster and your body slither like a snake. You are famous among the royals for your dance moves and you were guaranteed to make them remember you.
Starting with the Firelord brothers. “Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that," Geto chuckles. "It’s important to care for your body. Especially if you are dancing for royalty.” He winks across the room at Zuko. “And since my brother adores your dancing so.”
“Shut up, Geto,” he growls. “I do not!” You turn towards the younger brother, a pit in your stomach at his words. “You don’t?” you ask, cocking your head at him. Zuko realizes his mistake and quick tries to backtrack, his cheeks hot with a flush. “N-No, I meant…I didn’t mean—“
Geto tosses his head back and laughs, the sound oh-so attractive and pulling a smile out of you. “A catch, isn’t he? He can lead the Fire Nation Army into attack on the frontlines, but he can’t even form a sentence in front of a pretty woman.”
Zuko snarls, teeth bared, gleaming in the twilight. “You’re testing me, brother. I’m about this close to throwing a fire ball at your head.” Geto mockingly gasps, putting a dramatic hand to his broad chest. “And scare the lady? How else will you find yourself a mate?”
You quickly try to stamp out the fire quickly growing between the brothers. “I am used to violence, I assure you both. And this is quite tame for me.” You turn to Zuko with an inviting smile, knowing that he is the shyer, quieter one. “Will you join us, Your Highness?”
Zuko looks surprised at the offer, his brows raising slightly. He shoots a look at Geto who nods, smirking quietly at his younger brother. “Just as long as my brother knows to keep his words wise and his brain intact," he grumbles. Geto chuckles as Zuko rises, barefoot and quiet as he strides over to join you at the table.
He sits with Geto on his knees across from you, pouring himself some more tea. Geto passes Zuko the pipe to which the young prince gags at, putting it aside on the table. “Come; let us toast." Geto raises his glass of fireflower juice high, his eyes shining. "To a night of wonders and surprises.”
“Cheers," you giggle, clinking your goblet with the brothers before taking a sip of your crisp wine. The sliver of afternoon sun has vanished now and the moon has taken the sun's place, leaving the room shining in a white glow. “Did you enjoy tonight’s festivities, Y/N?” Geto asks, his voice soft as silk. It makes you shudder in pleasure. “As much as I could. It’s hard to do much when you’re being ordered to be on your feet for most of the night.”
The older brother chuckles, taking another puff of his pipe as Zuko silently sips his tea. “Well, here you will not have that. I’m sure your feet must be sore.” You think you see both brothers' eyes flicker down to your soft feet and French-tipped toes, manicured and pretty, but you pass it off as a trick of the moonlight.
“No, you misunderstand. I do not hark on sore feet. It comes with my work and I would not give up being a dancer for anything.” You mean the words to the bottom of your heart, but Geto chuckles, thinking it is a joke. “For the money, I’m sure.” You smile, humoring him. “The pay is just the tip of the iceberg for me. I only wish to entertain others with my body. To dance is my—“
“Passion,” Zuko finishes, surprising you and Geto with his voice. “That’s rare.” Geto agrees, his gaze softening. “Mm. Quite rare. Very admirable. And quite sweet of you.”
You shiver at the brothers' praise, feeling a flood of endorphins that you've never felt from any compliment before. For a few minutes, you sip your wine in silence, letting the alcohol take over. “How did I make you feel?” you boldly ask. “When I danced?” The brothers look surprised at the random question at first, but Geto answers nonetheless. “Enchanted. Like you were putting me under a spell that I didn’t want to escape."
His violet eyes capture you between the wisps of smoke billowing from his lush lips. You force yourself to focus on his face instead. "You flatter me, sir," you giggle. Then you turn to Zuko who is silent, unmoving. "What about you, Your Highness? Did I please you as much as your brother with my moves?"
You didn't mean for it to sound so suggestive, and Zuko catches on, his cheeks growing red. "Does it matter that much to you?" he asks, not unkindly but just confused.
You nod, keeping your kind, welcoming smile. "Of course! If I'm hired to dance for the Fire Nation's princes and their court, it's my duty to entertain and please." Again: very suggestive. Perhaps you're throwing down the hammer a little too hard, but the brothers' quiet seduction and mingling scents of floral (Zuko) and cloves (Geto) is driving you to the brink of insanity.
"Oh, he was entertained," Geto smirkingly replies, sliding a suggestive look at Zuko. "And very pleased. Weren't you, brother?" Zuko elbows his brother in the side, earning a choked chuckle in response. But realizing you're waiting for an answer, he gulps and regains composure. "You were...very nice," he mildly replies into his tea cup. "I have seen belly dancing before, but not the way you do it. Where did you learn?"
You smile and explain to him about your home and culture. You tell them that you learned from your grandmother who taught your mother and older sister. You tell them that belly dancing is considered an important dance within your culture, using your body to make art. The two listen intently, making you feel shy despite dancing for a living.
"You flatter me too, Your Highness," you chuckle, staring through your lashes at Zuko. "Your kindness is a gift and to dance for you is an honor." Zuko blushes hot red at your sweetness, averting his gaze. "The pleasure is all ours," Geto replies with a twinkle in his eye. "Though we are leaving one thing out as to why you're here."
You sip more wine, letting the buzzing, warm feeling grow. "Oh? What is that?" Geto gives Zuko a knowing look, but the younger brother ignores him, instead pouring more tea. Your heart pounds and the heat you felt growing intensifies, making the room feel tense.
"Forgive us for coming off as nothing more than dogs, but I'm afraid we loved your dancing so much that we preferred to have it in private." Geto pauses, puffing on his pipe, sizing you up with his eyes.
You ignore the way your body sizzles at his confession. You were hoping you were here for that reason...among others. "You want me to dance for you?" you ask. "Right here?"
Geto sits back against the pillows, exposing a sliver of his abs to you. "If you wish. Though we commanded your presence, we want you to be comfortable here with us. That body is too perfect to be forced to do anything it doesn't wish to."
His words are made of saccharine and silk, making you buzz like you just drank a whole bottle of wine. Though Zuko doesn't say anything, his look, so intimate and personal, tells you everything. They truly mean what they say. If they wanted more from you, they would've taken it by now, you realize.
So you smile, letting your walls fall completely down. "Of course. I am at your service, Your Highnesses," you purr. "You have made me very comfortable without needing to, so who am I to refuse your command? However, I do not have any music."
"Geto can play guitar," Zuko replies. He snaps at his older brother, impatient. "Play something. Now." Geto only smiles, humored by his brother's flip switch in attitude. "Oooo, someone's desperate to see some more moves. Did you think the Firelord would be so demanding?"
"Yes, I did," you giggle as Geto rises to his feet, going to fetch his guitar. "But I am sure you both are to a degree. I would think the Firelords would be if you get your way all the time."
Geto returns with a small guitar and sits cross-legged at the table, placing it in his lap. "Oh, little dancer, we get our way all the time. And you will get yours if you continue to move the way you do." His seductive words cause a trail of heat to snake down to between your thighs, but you ignore it. Not yet.
"How will you have me, My Lords?" you purr, unable to keep the sex out of your voice. Geto elbows Zuko, letting him talk. The young prince's eyes bore into yours, intense and fiery. "Stand right there," he softly commands, nodding at the window. "In the moonlight."
You rise to your feet and slink over to the window, standing in the sliver of moonlight serving as your spotlight. Then the music begins, Geto's fingers stroking and strumming the guitar strings the way you picture him doing to your body. The music is soft with a bit of Indian scales added to it. "Dance for us, love," he encourages. "However you wish."
And so you dance. Under the silvery moon and the hot gazes of the princes, you wind your hips, flip your hair, and move your stomach so impressively like it's made of water. You twist, grind, and sway, letting the music control you. When the guitar strums get bolder and faster, you move with them, your movements more intense but still controlled.
The watchful eyes of your princes encourage you, pushing your aching muscles and winding hips to move faster until completion. You reach the same peak you would with an orgasm, feeling a tightness in your core that bursts until you're coating in explosive pleasure that makes you gasp. You hit a pose, raising your arms high as you face the princes, coating from head to toe in sweat.
Geto stops playing and applauds you while Zuko sits still as a statue, gobsmacked. "Beautiful," he murmurs. You smile at the praise, bowing. "Did that please you, My Lords?" you ask, out of breath and pumped full of arousal. You can feel your slick travel down between your thighs and you clamp them shut in an effort to hide the scent of your slick.
The aura in the room has shifted, leaving a tense feeling in the air that the brothers feel too. You can tell from how rigid they both sit as if trying to seem normal but miserably failing. Geto is the only one who comes clean, moving the guitar from his lap to reveal his bulge under his robe. "Yes, lovely...a little too much. I am sure you can see it."
His eyes slide over to Zuko and sure enough, the younger prince is sporting a hard cock under his slacks as well. "Oh," you sigh, your eyes glued to their bulges. "Your Highnesses..." You stare, unashamed and so unproper. And not caring one bite.
"F-Forgive me," Zuko stammers, covering his hard-on with a pillow as he madly blushes. "You can leave if you don't like this. I'm not usually like this." He looks ashamed and shy, averting his eyes from yours.
But you shake your head, mouth practically watering. "It's alright. You're just making me blush." And quite wet. You can't remember the last time your pussy has felt this tingly and open, waiting for some attention. Geto raises a brow at you, catching onto your game. "Oh? And why is that?" he asks, his voice much deeper than usual.
Zuko turns to you, his attention once again pulled back to you. You stare at both, unable to hide your want anymore. "Perhaps you're not the only one who's been enchanted," you whisper. "Maybe I'm feeling this fire too."
Silently, the two brothers share a look and finally, they rise to their feet. Zuko drops the pillow, revealing his bulge again, and is the first to make his way over to you. You feel wobbly and unsteady as he strides towards you, all muscle and discipline under his silk robe, standing a whole head taller than you.
But when he finally nears you, you are neither intimidated or frightened. If anything, you are oh-so aroused and attracted to his height and strength. He places his fists at his sides, his muscles tense, jaw working. "I want to touch you," he hoarsely confesses. "I want to...kiss you. Will you let me?"
He dares to finally touch you, placing his hand in yours. You swallow hard as his long fingers lace through yours, just as Geto comes up behind you. It is sudden and silent, making for a great sneak attack. All you feel is his dick pressing into your backside, hard and hot, making your brain muddy. You turn to Zuko with an answer on your tongue, your pussy throbbing impatiently. "I—Oh!" you gasp before your face is being forced to turn to the side and Geto's lips are on yours, his fingers on your cheek.
Prince Geto kisses like a dream. A wet dream, that is. His lips are soft and spiked from the fireflower juice, but they are also wet and supple, his tongue sliding across yours. You kiss him back, your lips moving together in a heated dance, soft moans traveling between you. Zuko watches, enraged. "Hey, asshole! You said we were sharing her, remember?"
Geto chuckles against your lips, pulling away with a hooded look your way. "Sorry, brother, but you were too slow. I couldn't wait to have these lips any longer." His thumb gently massages your bottom lip, nearly sending you through the ceiling."That kiss was meant for your brother, Your Highness," you giggle. "Although that was quite a kiss."
Geto smiles pridefully, his hands finding your hips. "What can I say? I aim to please, little one." He leans in to steal another, but Zuko beats him to it, turning your chin to face him. "I kiss way better," he mutters before he sweeps your lips up in a kiss. He is no longer the shy, stoic man you met earlier; now, the man in his place is bold and unabashed as he kisses you down, making you melt beneath his lips.
Geto watches his brother kiss you as he sandwiches you between himself and Zuko, hard muscle pressed against soft curves. "Mmm, you feel so fucking good," he groans, his hands caressing your curves. "For so long, we've watched you. Craved you. Just wanted to keep you to myself."
Zuko eyes him from over your head as he pulls away from kissing you, your taste on his lips. "Don't get ahead of yourself, brother. You're in MY room." You smile at their little rivalry, placing a hand on both of their broad chests. "You may keep me," you giggle. "We have tonight, don't we?" Geto looks surprised at your agreement, thoughtfully stroking your sides. "Is that because you want us to? Or because you want to please us? Be honest, little dancer."
His big hand cups your chin as he kisses you once more, the scent of tobacco wafting off of him in intoxicating waves. Zuko peppers your neck in kisses, overstimulating you in the best way possible to the point where you're gasping and panting for air when his older brother pulls away. "I want it too," you confess.
How can you not? Every kiss, touch, and word from the brothers are like the strongest hits of a drug. You crave more of them, selfishly. You want to be the one who says that you danced and had a night of endless sex with the Firelord brothers, pleasing them with your body in every way possible.
Zuko smiles against your neck and Geto gives you a devastatingly pretty grin, overjoyed at your confession. He takes your hands and presses his lips to your knuckles, making your stomach flip. "Then lay down and let us explore you. Pleasing you will please us."
And you believe him. Plus, the idea of the Firelord brothers being two givers and pleasers is something you definitely want to explore more of. Two handsome princes who would like to please YOU, a homely dancer girl, because it gets them off? You'd be an idiot to refuse this!
Zuko anchors your attention back to him with his soft lips and nimble fingers caressing your body, running up and down your stomach. "Will you let us touch you?" he murmurs, a plea in his tone. You grasp one of his hands, clamping it tightly against your body, not wanting him to let go. "Yes," you whisper. "Please touch me."
You twist around to kiss the younger prince, his surprised moans swallowed by your wine-spiked tongue. Geto chuckles, taking a handful of your ass in his big, calloused hands. "Such sweet begging. And such a sweet body too." Together, the brothers share your body, their hands indulging in your curves the way you have only dreamed of. You usually swallow back cringes whenever a man touches you, but them? It's nothing but shivers and sensations that make you want to melt. "Oh," you sigh, unable to utter anything but mere words.
As Zuko busies himself kissing your neck and breasts (without taking off your top, of course, because he's a gentleman), Geto manages to slip some of your skirt down to expose your hip dips and the curve of your spine. "A-Ah," you moan, your hips bucking into Zuko as Geto kisses down your stomach, his fingers playing with your hips and gliding down your sides to your thighs.
He stares up at you and the way your back curves as your head tilts back, your hair cascading down like a sweet-smelling river. "You like that, pretty?" he teases. "You want me to go lower?" His hand slides under your skirt and you gasp when you feel his thick fingers caress you between your thighs, right over your damp panties. Arousal explodes like a firework inside of you and you can no longer bear the foreplay anymore.
"Yes, please," you whisper. Your voice is soft and breathless; needy. Just what the royal brothers want. Together, they kneel and pull up your skirt, exposing your thong and bare thighs underneath. They groan at the sight of your asscheeks looking so plump wedged between the tight thong. "Oh, fuck," Zuko softly moans, just above a shudder.
"Goddamn!" Geto gasps, staring mesmerized at the slick dripping down your thighs. "Look at how wet she is, brother. All for me." His tongue juts out to lick your inner thigh, giving you a taste of the cool metal of his tongue piercing. Zuko's eyes cut over to his brother, sharp and irritated. "You mean all for us. Don't play with me right now, Suguru."
Geto smirks, gently suckling on your thigh just to hear you moan. "My bad, brother. It's just so much fun teasing you. We will share this sweet pussy of hers and make her cum her brains out." He stares up at you, eyes twinkling. "That sound good to you, little one?"
So inviting. So considerate. So in tune with your body and your pleasure. Nothing has ever sounded better. So you lay down among the soft, luxurious pillows and allow the brothers to split your thighs open beneath your skirt, groaning at the sight of your lace thong so soaked through the fabric to the point where you are dripping wet.
Geto dares to pull the tiny article of fabric down your legs, exposing your pussy, puffy with arousal and glistening with your nectar. Some of it coats your inner thighs and the slit of your asshole, making you bite your lip as the summer breeze hits your sensitive pussy lips. "Ooo, look at her, brother," Geto murmurs, mesmerized by your slick. "So much here for us to share. We must indulge and—"
"I go first," Zuko cuts in before diving face first into your pussy. You gasp, your hand instantly grasping his long black locks as his soft lips mash with yours between your soft thighs, toned from years of dancing. "Oh!" you gasp, eyes bugging at the pleasure. "M-My Lord, that's s-so good! Oh, fuck yes!"
Zuko is quite a wonder at eating pussy. He does it as if he loves it, moaning as his tongue sends lightning strikes across your clit. Geto watches on, knelt beside his brother with a disapproving frown. "So much for sharing," he mutters. "Don't I get a little taste?"
Zuko looks irked by the mere thought of sharing you, but still, he scoots over an inch to allow some space for Geto. "Fine, but just stay out of my way." Then he goes right back to slipping his tongue between your sticky, wet pussy lips, drawing moans from deep in your chest out of you.
Geto smirks, peppering your right inner thigh in wet kisses, his fingers pressing into the muscle as he spreads it away from your pussy. "You're just worried that I'll make her cum before you do. Don't you know pierced tongues do it better?"
Moments later, you are writhing, bucking, and twisting like you're experiencing an exorcism on the princes' pillows and in their hands clamped tight on your thighs and under your ass as their tongues slash and skate hungrily along your pussy. Their tongues slash along your slit, alternating between your dripping hole and your clit buzzing with pleasure and all kinds of sensations.
When Zuko slides his tongue inside of you, Geto sucks your clit, moaning as he does so. They totally devour you whole, the lewd sounds of their fat, wet tongues swirling between your thighs. Their faces are pressed flush against each other, cheek to cheek, as they give you two tongues to lose your mind over...and you do. "Oh, fuck!" you cry out, gripping the pillows beneath you. "God, My Lords, yes! More please! Don't stop!"
Geto pulls away from your clit to smile, his violet eyes drinking in the way you massage your tits and tweak your nipples over your top. "You hear that, brother? She loves my mouth on that pretty clit."
Zuko growls as he pulls his tongue out of your pussy, the muscle sticking with your juices. "You sure that isn't because my tongue is deep inside of her?" So the brothers turn to you, expecting the truth."Tell me, little one: do you like my tongue or my brother's?" Geto asks in his silky voice as he rips your top down, exposing both of your precious, full tits to them.
"Both," you moan, surprised you can even speak. "Both of you are making me feel so good!" The brothers smile, satisfied with your answer. "Mmm, nice answer, baby," Geto hums. "Perhaps you'd like this tongue a bit lower?"
And then his fat, pierced, royal tongue is sliding down between your asscheeks, licking and sucking greedily at the tiny hole. Zuko begins to suck and lick on your clit now, humming as he takes the tiny rosebud into his mouth and does wonders to it, his mouth made of magic.
"Oh, my God!" you groan, your fingers lacing through their long, silky locks. Your back arches off of the floor, your body totally at their mercy. The vibrations of Geto's chuckle in your ass make you shudder, every sensation like a tidal wave of pleasure. "Mmm, naughty girl. Getting wetter from my tongue in your pretty little hole," he murmurs.
So he can feel it. You noticed a brief few minutes ago after Geto started eating your ass that your pussy has gotten significantly wetter, and not just because of Zuko's eager tongue. You are gushing like a waterfall, sending your honey dripping into the mouths of the younger prince. "Fuck, I think she's close!" Zuko groans, feeling your pussy tightening around his tongue now.
If he didn't feel that, you're sure he would've suspected by how loud you've gotten. Your moans and whimpers can't be contained anymore, bouncing off of his bedroom walls. "You're gonna cum for me now, sweetness?" Geto huskily asks, using his two fingers to gently rub at your asshole, making you damn near cream on yourself.
Zuko snarls into your pussy, anger radiating through his muscles flexing underneath his robe. "No, she's gonna cum for me," he growls. "Stop distracting her."
"I'm gonna cum for you both!" you desperately moan, grasping at their silky locks of hair, pushing them deeper into your holes, as far as they can possibly go. "Please, please make me cum, my Lords! Don't stop!" Zuko mumbles nonsense into your pussy while Geto laughs, speaking through wicked flicks of his tongue against your ass. "Never, little one. Just cum for us. Let go. We've got you now."
And like a puppet on a string, pulled by the princes' wicked and convincing tongue strokes, you let out a loud whine as you cum all over their faces. You soak their smoothly-shaven cheeks and chins as you cream, flooding their mouths with your nectar straight from the source of your sweet-like-sugar pussy. They share groans of satisfaction and need as they slurp up your essence, making you cry out and whine as your pussy throbs and tingles with every agonizing stroke of their tongues.
When you finally come down from your high, a smile stretches across your face, matching the one sliding along the princes' lips. "Mmm-hmm," Zuko hums as he pecks your tummy, making you twitch. His fingers glide along your sweat-soaked skin, slightly warmed by his fire abilities. "Mmm, good girl," Geto praises you, giving your ass a squeeze. "How was that?"
You are more than happy to let him know: "Like heaven. Thank you, My Lords." You sit up from your fort of pillows, want racing through your veins as you gaze at the handsome men before you. "Now I must please you both as well."
The princes must feel the fire radiating from your molten gaze because they don't hesitate giving you what you want. They each stand, racing each other to see who can do it the fastest. "Let's get her on the bed," Zuko requests. "I don't want her on the floor doing this."
You grin when he offers you a hand to help you stand. "How sweet of you, My Lord," you hum, taking his hand in yours, but even as you stand, your legs feel like jelly. Luckily, you have a certain young prince to help you. Surprising both himself, Geto, and you, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you over to his bed. "Oh!" you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Geto watches sourly, following behind. "Show-off," he scoffs. Zuko gives him a wink, pleased with himself. "Don't look so upset, brother. I'm just playing your own game is all...and winning."
Your giggles continue as Zuko swiftly walks over to the bed and gently places you down on the satin sheets, soft to the touch. The two princes stand at the foot of the bed, looking over your curves like you're a dessert plate. "So what are you waiting for, brother?" Geto asks, slyly smirking at Zuko. "Get udnressed and drop your pants...unless you're too afraid to get shown up by me."
As you laze about on the sheets, biting your lip in anticipation, you watch the Firelords disrobe for you. Your eyes are drawn to their fingers as they untie their robes while their eyes are locked soley on your beautiful face and body. Your arousal practically explodes and spills over when they expose their toned bodies to you, every part of them carved with muscle, their lower stomaches adorned in patches of fine black hair.
When their pants are finally off, you come face to face with what you've dreaming about for ages. Their dicks are just as beautiful as you pictured them being—different in size and shape, one thicker than the other, the other curving upward, but both throbbing, rock hard, and ready for you.
Geto raises a teasing brow down at you and your dreamy expression. "Well? You wanted to suck some royal dicks, right? Here you are now, little dancer." He wraps a hand around himself, gently pumping from base to tip. "Take them, little one, but you must do your very best for us, okay?"
Zuko flushes as you sit up in front of them, flashing him your naked tits, much to his dick's enjoyment. "Of course, Your Highness," you purr. "I would give you nothing less." You begin slow, using some body oil on the bedside table next to you to pour onto their hard dicks and into your palms, making both slick and shiny.
Then it's strictly about pleasing the two princes. Stroking, pumping, and sucking. Your pussy gushes at each deep moan, gasp, and swear that escapes the princes' lips as you alternate between sucking and stroking them. Geto throws his long hair back and moans in ecstasy as you pump him with your mouth, your lush, wet lips sliding up and down his shaft.
"Ah, fuck," he sighs, his handsome face contorted in pleasure. "God, that's fucking good." His big hand tangles in your hair, holding you firm, while Zuko watches in awe as your dainty hand strokes his dick in tandem. "Her hand feels good t-too," he stammers. You pull away from Geto's cock, strands of spit connecting his cockhead to your bottom lip.
"It feels good, my Prince?" you purr, staring at Zuko through your lashes. "Would you like my mouth as well?" Zuko can't even speak; he can only jerkingly nod as his cock twitches in your palm. You smile and wrap your mouth around him next, sliding him deep into your throat and against your tongue. Zuko's eyes widen at the new sensations, his mouth agape as your tight, wet throat closes around him and slides up and down his shaft.
"Oh, fuck!" he moans, clenching his fists at his sides as you bob up and down his dick, moaning in enjoyment. Geto watches on through hooded eyes, fucking your hand slick with oil.
You continue to work Zuko's dick in your throat, hollowing your cheeks and staring into his eyes. When you need to breathe, you slide him out of your throat only to suck and lick on his tip, earning a desperate hiss through his teeth. "Y-You...oh, fuck, how do you do that with your tongue?"
"This?" you ask before you push the brothers' cocks together and lick both of their tips at the same time, earning wanton groans in response. You continue to alternate between them, giving them as much tender, love, and care as possible, causing your own spit to pool down your chin and soak your tits.
But Geto soon takes initiative, your mouth too much for him, and grips your hair as he pushes himself deep down your throat. You gag in surprise, but you don't dare push him away, letting him use your throat for his pleasure. "Deeper," he grunts. "Come on now, love, don't give up. Take that fucking dick."
His moans are aphrodiasics to you as he fucks your mouth, his balls gently slapping against your chin. Black strands of hair hang in his handsome face, his composure lost as he thrusts deeper and deeper, filling your throat up with his cock. Zuko practically melts at the lewd sight, his cock growing bigger and thicker as he watches your mouth stretch around his brother's dick.
Geto notices and smiles, pulling out with a groan to tap his dick against your tongue. "You wanna try, brother?" he pants. "Just fuck her throat nice and deep. Make her take it." After some coaching, Zuko swallows hard and slides himself inside of your mouth.
Obediently, you take his slow, deep thrusts as he gets used to your throat closing around him, causing more spit to drip down your chin, making you look like a professional cock slut. The moans that Zuko lets out are choked and wanton, traveling straight to your soaked pussy. You can't help but play with yourself as Zuko fucks your throat, using it as he would a fleshlight.
Geto notices your fingers working between your thighs and smiles, raising his brows. "Oooo, someone's being quite naughty," he chuckles. "I suspect you need to be treated kindly down here again, sweetness?" Slowly, he switches places and climbs onto the bed behind you, placing his big hands on your hips. You feel his cock nudge your pussy lips apart, allowing your wetness to drench his tip.
"You want this dick now, darling? Can you take me and my brother at the same time?" Zuko groans as he slips out of your throat, allowing you to speak, which you eventually do once your moaning over Geto's cock rubbing against your pussy stops. "Yes!" you gasp. "Please fuck me, Suguru! I need y—"
You can't finish because he's already sliding in, filling you to the brim with dick. Your mouth falls agape as you're stretched open on his thick dick, expanding on every sensation you've ever felt. "S-Sorry, love, but your begging was just too damn cute," the older prince stammers, biting his lush bottom lip as you squeeze him tight. "Y-you—oh, fuck—feel so fucking good."
Zuko watches you bounce against his brother's dick buried deep inside of you, your tits swaying enticingly back and forth. "Don't tire her out. I still need to fuck her too." Geto chuckles, moving his fingers down to rub your clit in time with his breathtaking thrusts. "Sure...if she doesn't cum too hard. I'm known for doing that to women."
An irritated growl escapes Zuko as he slides his cock in your mouth again, keeping his thrusts a bit slower and lighter to not overwhelm you. How sweet of him. "Just fuck her and shut up," he growls. "I'll show you that I can do just as good of a job." Geto raises an interested brow, his smirk wicked and sly. "Oh, can you now? I'll hold you to that, little brother."
And then together, the two fuck you off of their cocks, pushing and pulling you back and forth. It is like some erotic seesaw, the rhythm building the more they fuck your dripping holes. Zuko's resolve drops with every thrust of his dick down your tight throat and ripple of your ass bouncing back against Geto's cock. "That's it," he grunts. "You suck me so well, baby. So fucking good!"
The way you squeal and moan around Zuko's cock makes Geto fuck you a little faster, placing a foot on the bed. It drives him deeper inside of you, to the point where you damn near feel him in your tummy. "Yeah? You like sucking my brother's fat dick while I fuck you with mine?" he pants. "That pussy certainly seems to."
Your pussy concurs, dripping over his fingers as he rubs your clit in time with his thrusts. You feel his eyes roll over your curves, drinking in the way sweat rolls off of your blessed body. "Fuck yes," he hisses. "How is this body so amazing, hm?" He begins to harshly palm your ass, indulging in the way your soft asscheeks ripple and bounce in time with his thrusts. Your body tingles at his touch, needing more. "Spank me!" you whimper.
"Seriously?" Zuko asks, surprised by such a request. But Geto is grinning like a kid on Christmas. "Oh, I'm gonna have some fun with you, little one." He then raises his palm and swats your ass repeatedly, the harsh sounds of his hand coming down on your ass exploding against the bedroom walls.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
The assault on your ass combined with Geto's mind-melting thrusts is too much and soon, you feel your second orgasm cresting like a full moon. "M'gonna cum!" you moan around Zuko's cock. "Please harder, My Lord! Fuck me faster!" Geto's groan is fit for a porno, filled with need and desperation. "Of course, cutie. Anything you want."
So he thrusts harder, faster, his balls slapping against your clit. Sparks of pleasure explode through your body as you bounce back against his dick, practically fucking yourself as he pounds into you, taking and giving at the same time. "Such cute begging. Such a sweetheart," he grunts. He leans forward, capturing your tits in both of his big palms. "Gonna make me fucking cum. Make me breed you."
The idea of being bred by one of the princes–or both–turns you on more than you care to admit. You can only moan around Zuko's throbbing dick as Geto fucks your pussy like he owns it, chasing his orgasm. "M'gonna cum!" he groans. "You ready, little one? Ready to take this load?"
"Mmm-hmm!" you moan around Zuko's dick twitching in your throat. You don't get a chance to prepare before a hot rush of cum is flooding your insides, followed by a loud groan from Geto as he empties himself inside of you. You quickly cum as well, shuddering and shaking as your orgasm takes you on a journey through the stars and beyond.
Zuko watches as your eyes roll back with his cock still stuffed in your mouth, your orgasm taking complete control in addition to the hot gush of spunk that Geto gives you. It seems to last forever until Geto's grip on your tits eases and his thrusts grow sloppy until they finally slow.
He sighs as he slooooowly slides out of you, groaning at the gush of cum that manages to escape your pussy. You slide your mouth off of Zuko's cock and collapse between them, totally spent and breathless. Geto smirks at Zuko, cocky and proud of his work. "Told you she'd tap out," he chuckles. Gently, he strokes your ass, leaning down to check on you. "Tuckered out, little dancer? Or can you take more?"
More. Yes. Your body reacts immediately, igniting with need like a wildfire. You slowly sit up on your knees, staring into the worried gaze of Prince Zuko. "Do you wish to continue? We can stop if you—oh, fuck!"
He doesn't get a chance to finish because of your vicious sucking again, swallowing him whole and giving him a few pumps of your throat that make his toes curl. You pull away, lips coated in spit and pre-cum, bating your lashes at him. "Please fuck me, my Lord," you whimper. "I need to make you feel good too."
Zuko stares, blushing and intensely aroused, while Geto smirks at the sight. "You heard the girl. So you gonna show me up or what?" As if a switch flips, Zuko's shy demeanor vanishes, replaced with someone so determined to please you. "I want her on her back," he requests above a growl. "I want her to look at me when I make her cum."
His lewd words sound like a promise to your ears, fierce and impassioned, making your stomach flip with anticipation for what will come next...and hopefully cum next too.
Moments later, you're taken to euphoria again when Zuko is fucking you in missionary, hips slamming against yours as you lay back against Geto's broad chest. He holds your legs open for his brother, watching as Zuko fucks your pussy into his bed. The lewd noises of his dick sloshing and squelching in your wet pussy drifts through the air, mixing with your loud moans and his groans of pleasure.
There is a symphony of sex swimming in the air, uninterrupted or silenced, only growing more intense the deeper and faster Zuko fucks you. "Oh, my God, yes!" you wail against the bedsprings creaking. "That's so good, Zuko, fuck!"
The younger prince smiles, black strands of his hair cascading over his broad shoulders and face glistening in beads of sweat glistening in the moonlight. "Yeah? Better than my brother, right?" Geto glares from behind you, teasing your hard nipples as his brother continues to pound you into the mattress. "Watch it. I could snatch that pussy away from you easily."
Zuko breathlessly chuckles, his cock somehow twitching in your pussy at the prospect of such a challenge. "Doesn't seem like she'd like that," he grunts. "She—oooo, fuck, she's squeezing around me so tight!" He pauses to spit on your pussy, a drop of saliva dripping from his mouth to drench your puffy, sticky pussy lips.
You can only gasp as he slides in again, deeper, making you take every thick inch of him. Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls slack on desperate, loud moans and gasps as he draws himself inside of you, trapping you between himself and his brother. "I want to devour you, little dancer," he groans. "Wanna keep you here and make you mine over and over again."
He leans down to press himself against you, using his arms to hold himself up, encasing you in a prison of muscle that you don't want to escape. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deep into the very loins of your soul as he fucks you deep. "Would you like that?" he whispers.
You only whine in response, unable to formulate proper words. Geto laces a hand around your throat, squeezing. "Answer my brother, pretty girl. You wanna stay here and let my brother fuck you until you cum over and over again?" Zuko goes harder. Faster. Pistoning that dick inside of you and forcing you to answer. "Yes!" you wail. "Both of you! I want both of you, please!"
Geto's chest rumbles as he softly laughs, wrapping those big arms around you to hold you close as Zuko pins your thighs apart to fuck you in semi-mating press. "Then cum for me," Zuko grunts. "Give me all of that honey, baby, please. I need it. Please, please, please."
His begging is a straight drug lacing through your veins, getting closer and closer to yet another intense orgasm. Geto kisses down your neck as he squeezes you tight, anchoring you down before you float off as your orgasm crests. "Give it to him now, darling," he whispers. "Cum for him. Cum for us again."
It doesn't take long—not with the way Zuko is desperately moaning above you as he chases his orgasm head on, his cock sliding against your slick, wet pussy walls until he can't take much more. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he gasps. "I-I can't...stop! Gonna fill you up!"
Plap, plap, plap goes his hips against your thighs as his thrusts grow faster and faster until finally—
"Fuck!" you both gasp in unison as Zuko floods your insides with his cum and you drench him in your cream, finally released from your bottle of self control. Your body would definitely be levitating if it isn't for Geto's beefy arms snaking around you, holding you close and holding you down, forcing you to take his brother's load deep inside of you.
Your eyes roll back and your body twitches as you cum, cum, and cum, drenching Zuko's cock and balls in your honey. He groans as he fills you, his dick twitching inside of you as the last of his spurts of spunk escape him and enter you, breeding you the same as his brother did moments before.
Finally spent, Zuko slowly pulls out of you, collapsing onto his back, his muscular body slick with sweat illuminated by the moonlight. For a while, there is only comfortable silence spiked with the afterglow of sex. "That was amazing," you finally sigh, delirious.
"Mmm-hmm," Geto hums in agreement. "Except..." He grips your chin and squeezes it tight, forcing you to look back at him. His violet eyes are firm yet fiery, making your stomach flip with excitement. "What do you say?" he asks, his tone dripping with authority.
You aren't sure what he means at first, your brain still mushy from your three orgasms. But then you realize it when Zuko snuggles up to your side and kisses your cheek. "Thank you, my princes," you whisper. Geto smiles and pecks your lips, satisfied. "You're very welcome, little one. Now let's get you cleaned up."
You thought tonight couldn't get any better, but that's before Geto carries you off to Zuko's large bathchambers and runs some hot water in a stone pool for you. Zuko adds some kind of liquid that has an herbal scent to the water, turning it a slight teal color and creating bubbles. The brothers get into the steaming water first before offering you their hands. "Careful now," Geto murmurs. "Gently. The water isn't going anywhere."
You take their hands and slowly step into the pool, hissing at the heat at first. But soon, the water soothes your tired muscles and you melt into the bubbles. Zuko pulls you towards him, letting you lean back against his broad chest while you face Geto, your feet on his beating heart. "Good?" Zuko asks.
"Yes," you sigh, content. "I am the envy of all women right now." Geto smiles, gently kissing both of your feet as you relax further into the water. "And we are the envy of all men. You made us feel so good tonight, love."
The praise fuels you the way the herbal-scented water does, making you feel brand new. In this little world with the three of you, surrounded by nothing but the bubbles and water, you feel like nothing and no one matters. Just tonight. Just this moment of bliss.
So you lean against Zuko's chest and hum with contentment, smiling when he tangles his fingers in your wet hair, allowing yourself to fall completely and totally in the little sanctuary your princes have built...even if it's just for tonight.
"The only question is whose dick made you cum more?" Geto asks. "Mine or my brother's?"
SPLASH!
Geto suddenly gets a mouthful of soapy water flung at him by his brother while you giggle profusely. "Get the fuck out, Geto," Zuko growls. "Or I'll drown you."
Synopsis: Scar!jo's wife misses her husband's touch.
Pairing: Scar!jo x wife!reader.
Tags: [MDNI] Slow and intimate SMUT some fluff and angst sprinkled, voyarism, public sex, exhibitionism, breeding, p in v, reader is a horny little shit, praise kink ig, missionary, overstimulation (can people learn the diff between this and overwhelmed..?) cunnilingus.
From Shibuya and Shinjuku's ruins to the Italian coast is a long, dreadful and sorrowful journey you embarked on with your husband.
Freshly scarred and high from the adrenaline after the showdown, Satoru hadn't realised just who he was after defeating Sukuna.
He wasn't just the strongest anymore.
He was a survivor.
The winner.
But he came crashing down from the peak sooner than he expected.
One look in the mirror.
And he wasn't anyone.
Not your husband, and most definitely not Gojo Satoru anymore.
So for months, he hid.
The characteristic charming and confident man you married was nowhere to be seen the last three months. Buried in the rubble that consumes what Tokyo once was.
Satoru is still somewhat a ghost of himself—you watch him as he stays rooted at the shore, tall frame swallowed by his orange oversized sweatshirt to hide the dents in his canvas underneath that follow his skin until his mid thighs.
Just staring at the horizon of azure blue, a mirror of his own eyes.
Though you can't see his face, or read his thoughts from where you lay on the sunbed shaded behind the creamy, semi-see through curtains, you can tell his gaze is void—empty like it's been for some time now.
Or perhaps foggy with his everlasting fear. Paranoia of ever having to relieve what he did. Unfortunately for you, as much as you've tried to be a reassuring and wife, nothing has quite helped your husband with abolishing that mindset just yet—that he's on the battlefield.
You don't dare to say it out loud.
But you miss your husband.
Your Satoru.
So much.
Not how he looks.
Never that.
But the cheerful, loud and lively version of him. It pains you far too much to see him so far away despite being right next to you.
You press your face further into the plush white pillow beneath your cheek and try to find comfort in it—to no avail, you can only fall asleep on your husband's chest but he's refused physical contact ever since he came home.
It breaks your heart every time.
Because you love him either way—scarred or not—maybe now even more than before after he kept his promise of coming back to you.
He doesn't see it that way though. And he avoids you like it's better for you to stay away and not see the outcome of the events carved into him.
Says he's "not worthy for you anymore." or "unattractive." So you won't need to force intimacy onto him because he hates the feeling of your fingers brushing every dip of his skin that wasn't there before and that only serves as a reminder that he was still weak.
You wish he'd understand he's anything but weak.
In the distance he's still watching the waves, you begin to wonder if today, on the third day of your vacation—the one you forcefully dragged him on, far away from Japan so he'd have a change of scenery (a positive one)—he will finally get inside the water.
Tug off his cover-up, dip himself beyond his feet in the blue and lose himself in the ocean.
The answer lingers in the back of your mind like a pest, you're sure he's not ready yet, but there's a sliver of hope in your chest.
Which disappears and gets overtaken by vast disappointment once he turns around and makes his way to you. A few long strikes and he reaches where you're bundled up on the bed, hair messily sprawled out on the sheets, curtains half drawn to sheild you from the sun.
And he would usually cling onto you immediately. Throw a hand over your waist, press himself against your back and curl into you. Cuddle you until you both fell asleep in this nice weather.
Instead, now he takes the other end of the bed. Swinging his feet up after dusting the sand off and leaning against the headboard—quiet as a church mouse.
Sadness pools in your stomach, an uneasy feeling taking over your every fiber. You try to be strong knowing he has it so hard—but you can't help but feel undesirable at some point.
Swallowing the prickling feeling of wanting to cry, you try to keep your voice leveled—clear of any sentimental emotions—when you attempt small talk with him.
"How's the water, honey?"
He's quiet for a beat before mumbling "I didn't go in."
You hum, a sorry excuse of a smile on your face.
And you can't help it when the tears bubble quickly in you and you accidentally choke out a sob you were meant to push down.
Satoru’s head whips over to your sideways curled up figure on the bed when the sound reaches his ear.
You feel pathetic.
Making small talk with your husband.
Helpless, and feeling incredibly selfish.
For the first time in months, Satoru feels himself live in an emotional fully. Worry spreading through his whole body.
He pushes himself off his side of the bed and circles the bed till he reaches your side and crouches right where your face is hidden in the pillow and from where tiny whimpers are muffled.
"Baby, what's wrong?" You start sobbing at the sound of the nickname. He has no idea just how much it means to you to just hear him talk or look at you.
The tears spill past your waterline like a waterfall with no direction or limit, dampening your cheeks, soon turning your eyes raw from the dryness.
You hiccup into the pillow, muffle sobs that rip straight from your chest while your husband stays crouched next to the bed and rubs your back—unaware of the inner turmoil you actually fight everyday because of him.
Because he’s there.
Yet, he’s not.
And it stings.
“It’s okay, tell me why you’re crying.” His voice soothes in your ear, questioning softly with the underlying care in his words that he always had with you.
That has your heart clenching even more, your chest tightening at how the man you knew only shows up every once a never now.
You feel like a terrible wife for wanting him back.
“I miss you.” You frailly cry out, voice a pitch higher and shaky.
Though you can’t see him, you know he’s probably wearing that face of indescribable confusion. He’s there, so what are you talking about?
“I’m right here, sweetheart..?” He’s unsure as he points out the obvious.
You don’t miss a beat in replying. “No, I miss my husband.”
His mind slowly wraps around the idea he has about what your talking about and something shifts in him.
For the first time since he’s gotten back from the shore, you show your face again. Mascara smudged around the corners, hair messy, cheeks glossy and lips puffy.
“You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t let me touch you. We barely talk. You don’t let me help. We are married for fucks sake, Satoru.”
Your voice breaks as you spill your hearts content out through the tip of your tongue. Months of frustration and loneliness piercing right at the one man you love most in the world.
Satoru falls quiet with a frozen tongue and a paralysed mind. Internally, he feels the gears shift, his mind rewire as he understands you.
And he gets it.
Shit.
Where has he been these last months?
Back at the battlefield while his wife desperately tried to cling onto his consciousness and ground him like the tether she always was to him in his world of curses?
Uneasiness washes over him at the realisation that he can’t erase the past—the last months you’ve spent in solitude with an absent husband at home, constantly nurturing it without reward.
So all he can offer and pray you accept are apologies.
“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry.” His long fingers clasp around your hand against the pillow. Holding tight enough for you to feel your bones being squished against his.
“I’m so sorry.”
But you don’t need his apologies.
He has no need to apologise for. After all, you’re not the only one grieving him. He is too. The life he had, who he was, who the mirror showed him before the slashes.
It’s different though. He doesn’t love who he is now, while you still do.
He’s still your husband. You said “I do.” 4 years ago with the same confidence you’d say it today. Even after all of the hardships and even after all of the forgiving.
“Don’t apologise.” You mutter, shifting on the mattress and sitting upward—moving your weight to sit on your legs—and cup his cheek with your right hand to caress it.
Only now do you realise his eyes are glossy too, guilt swimming in them—regret. The kind that eats at your bones for mistakes you didn’t mean.
Quietly, you confess with the sound of the waves in the background supporting you.
“I’ll always be by your side, Satoru. But you need to let me in. I’m your wife.”
Your eyes follow the way his Adams apple bobs as he swallows your honest words. Their meaning sinking into his marked skin with permission this time.
He nods once—slow and sure—and the knot in your chest loosens. In the blink of an eye, he’s getting off his knees.
The matress dips where he sits down next to you, hand still in hand, his body fully turned to you while your legs—folded beneath you—still are angled straight ahead.
In a slow pace, he draws himself closer to you. The smell of his natural musk that always drove you crazy mixed with the ocean breeze in his milky white hair filling your senses.
His lips brush against you in the comforting way they always did before meeting.
And slowly, he whispers.
“You are so much more than my wife.”
You hum once, curtly.
“You’re my everything.”
And the man you thought you no longer recognised, kissed you like the man you know by heart.
The kiss is impossibly soft. Tender and warm. Electrifying all of your dormant atoms to life, cells buzzing under his touch.
It’s magical. An open door to the world you thought you were shut out of entirely—one with him and your love.
His lips move slowly against yours. Plush skin meeting plush skin in a desperate yet patient reunion.
You didn’t realise you missed it so much till now.
It hurts to part.
Satoru only pulls away for a second to look in your eyes.
Neither of you exchange words before diving back into each other’s essences.
His hands find your waist, your body turns to him completely—back pressing against the headboard as he holds you, your hands fitting on his broad shoulders.
Beneath the tips of your delicate fingers, you feel the dips and uneven surfaces under the thin layer of his sweatshirt.
The kiss deepens once he swipes his tongue under your lip and you grant him that quiet access like you always have under the sun or moon.
You’ve always been Satoru’s.
From the day you saw him on the other side of the train station.
Till now.
And you always will be his.
Your nails slightly dig into his flesh as he explores your mouth, one of his hands now on your chin—tilting your face up—so he can follow the same path he always did.
Tongues fighting, bodies heating up under the daylight, you feel the need to reduce the layers between your thin white cover-up dress and his sweatshirt.
Hesitantly, the pressure on his shoulders caused by your fingers lessens and your hands migrate to the collar of the orange material.
He’s still kissing you as you tug on the zipper.
Then he freezes.
Tongue retreating and lips separating from the heated kiss. Eyes locking together.
You see the fear and hesitation in his baby blues. A silent prayer for you to not see him.
“Satoru, I love you.” You croak out. Voice scratchy and hoarse. The remaining few drops of tears spill from the corners of your eyes.
“I love you so much you have no idea. And I have always loved you and I always will. Even when you change.”
Your husband’s heart shatters.
Loud, like glass breaking against the floor. Unmendable.
But he trusts you.
So he dries your face with the buds of his fingers. Kisses the corner of your damp eye, and pulls the zipper down himself—showing the tainted and raw outcome of his fight.
Pink scars, painfully painted stars in his history.
You see beyond them. See the chiseled body he worked for, the defined v-line that you go crazy for, his rock-hard abs. His determination.
The scars are mere decorations you wish he accepts someday.
“You’re beautiful, honey. Even more now.”
Satoru has doubled in mass since being in the prison realm.
There’s nothing unattractive about him.
Your mind momentarily flashes to the promises of him giving you a family after the fight if he made it.
Every time you think about it, nausea overtakes you.
That dangerous what if that haunted you for nights before the showdown.
What if he didn’t…
No, he’s home.
And that matters so much to you.
That he could come home missing half of his body and you’d still cherish him to death.
Because you know there were others without the gift or the fortune to see their loved ones faces ever again.
Your hands press against the hard surface of his pecks before peeling your back off the headboard and reaching up to kiss him.
You’re caged in between his arms that hold himself up against the headrest. He happily accepts the kiss, lighter than a few seconds ago.
He melts into you again. Your back presses against the cushioned board again as he hovers over you once more.
Hands dipping, your nails feel every dip of his abs. Your legs subconsciously closing as the heat in between them grows.
Satoru bites your bottom lip so he can slip inside your mouth this time, his confidence recovering little by little as he sees the effect he still has on you.
You rein back a whimper that almost escapes once he lowers his lower body onto you. Hard boner pressing against your thinly covered clit—slotting himself perfectly against her.
With the palms of your hands, you push the orange sweatshirt off Satoru and he pulls his hands back quickly to throw it off before latching them on your breasts.
Your mouths dance a ballad you’ve both practiced across different lives.
With no regard for even considering that people might walk by and catch what’s happening through the slightly agape curtains, you slowly plunge your hands inside your husband’s swim trunks.
He hisses against your mouth as your hands wrap around his shaft, sensitive from not being touched or touching himself at all these last months.
Every fiber in you is on fire. His lips leave yours and attach to your neck—peppering your skin with love bites that show you’re his as he works on kneading your tits.
You start pumping his girth at a rhythmic pace, swiping your index finger to collect the small amount of pre-cum oozing out of his tip to stroke him.
Satoru’s face lifts to see you spit on your hand while maintaining eye contact and he feels himself grow harder even when it’s not even possible anymore.
His hand messily pushes down his swim shorts and his cock springs up, hitting him in his lower belly where you immediately grab it and coat it in your spit.
He lets out a deep rumble from his chest that has you twitching around nothing. One large hand pushing your cover up just enough for your bikini-covered breasts to meet the light of day.
A finger hooks under the thin strap underneath them and he sets them free once he tugs the string over your tits.
Your stroking falters when he moves to your nipple, biting as a greeting and then sooting the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You’re dripping—soaking the expensive material of your bathing suit under your cover.
Satoru’s still working on your nipple when his hand pushes up your cover up and moves aside your panties. Long fingers pressing against your warm wetness.
He swears he could cum just for the fact that you’re this wet over him.
A thick, rough digit of his pokes at your entrance before slipping inside. You gasp at the stretch, not having had sex in a long time.
Satoru relishes in the small sound. He pumps the finger once, twice and on the third thrust he unexpectedly adds another finger.
Now, his middle and ring finger stretch you. Wedding ring pressing against your cunt whenever he bottoms his hand out.
His palm rubs against your clit in a way that has you twitching beneath him. Your body jerks at his tongue swirling around your nipple and his palm slapping your bud.
Small moans ring in his ear. With your hands still wrapped around him, he starts thrusting against the mattress, chasing that friction while your mind crashes.
He feels you tense up when your walls start to flutter around his fingers so he pulls them out before you can reach your release.
You feel him lower and latch his mouth onto your pussy before you can process it and whimper for the loss of his digits. Hands letting go of his length as he lowered himself.
Immediately, your hips buck when he flattens his tongue—trying to lap up and consume relish in every taste of his wife’s nectar that she’ll offer him.
You lose all control over the moans and whimpers that leave your mouth—too far gone to even think about others now when your husband eats you up so messily.
Your juices mixed with his saliva soak into the white mattress, staining it, yet the two of you couldn’t care less.
Satoru laps up like a starved man. As he is. His tongue slips past your ring of resistance at times, teasing. Testing to see if you’re ready.
Your nails cling at his back, scratching new redness that he doesn’t mind—not in the way he does with his scars.
His hands are now under your plush ass, angling you upwards and holding you in place as he devours you with the reverence and need he has always had with you.
Your orgasm approaches quickly once he reignites it. Satoru holds the need to smirk against you once he feels your clit twitch and your sweet cunt start to flutter all alone.
He looks up with your bud in between his lips to see the heavenly sight of you propped on your elbows, tits out and glistening, your head thrown back.
His rutting against the bed stops.
You come undone on his tone aggressively. It hits you all at once, shivers overtaking you as your mind falls into pure euphoria.
Satoru doesn’t let a single drop spill.
Not giving you much time to recover, too eager to melt his body with yours, and with you all over his face, your husband climbs over your body again and captures your lips in a kiss.
Tasting yourself on his glistening lips, you shudder and whimper from how sensitive you are once you feel him rub his tip against your entrance.
“ ‘toruuu.” You whine, tears brimming your eyes.
A mock pity pout spawns on his face. His head lolls to the side as he watches your struggled expression—mouth parted, eyes fluttering open and shut when he brushes himself against your overstimulated clit.
“Didn’t you miss me, baby?” He teases.
"I—did-I missed you so much, mmh!" You mewl out in high-pitched stutters. Eyes falling shut and letting the tears spill from your clamped shut eyelids once he bottoms out in one go.
“Oh fuck.” Satoru bites back a low groan that escapes straight from his chest, his thighs pressing against the round and plush skin of your ass.
He wastes no time in pulling back and snapping himself back home. Letting his length disappear inside of you with little to no resistance. “Yeah, baby. Take all of me.”
Electricity sparks every once-dormant nerve in your body back to life.
Your mind momentarily flashes back to the promises he had vowed to keep before the fight. How he’d retire if he won, give you a family and spend the rest of his days cherishing the moments he spends in your arms.
And you snap out of your thoughts once you feel his two hands slide under your thighs, strong forearms locking them against your hamstrings so he can snugly wrap your legs around his textured waist—carved skin firmed up from days in a dark realm where he fought against time and his own mind.
You feel him everywhere. To the veins harshly reminding you how they have a place within your velvety walls ever since he vowed to be the only one who would ever walk the earth to please you—to the heat swirling in your chest out of profound and raw love you have for your husband.
It’s not supposed to be such a bittersweetly beautiful moment as Satoru is keeping your legs folded around him—forcing him to voluntarily slam down and dip his bulging cock back down home, juices welcoming him and kissing his length goodbye when he pulls back—but it’s so painfully good.
The way he’s back within your reach—caging you under his huffing, feral state where you can see the light color of his eyes sparkling as his body is electrified with life for the first time in months—and the way he’s stretching you out so deliciously.
Making you mewl out incomprehensible words that end up being letters melted into each other with no real meaning because your brain can barely form a real thought.
He’s finding the love you have for him in every crevice of you as your tongues mesh together again. Saliva on saliva as he connects his hips to yours without faltering once.
Begrudgingly, he pulls back. Your eyes fall down to his plush baby pink swollen lips that once shined with your release.
His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling—occasionally shaking as a deep groan escapes him when you suck him in so greedily—for a second, you catch his stare falling to your bodies connecting.
Then he snaps back up—face levelling to you where you’re still giving him that fucked out doe-eyed look that he swears will have him falling over the edge sooner than he intends to.
“Baby?” He softly calls out, the four-lettered word spilling out of his mouth with ease that comes out of the habit he has of calling you that loving name.
You barely hear the sound of his voice, mind somewhere over the clouds. His tip is pushing past your cervix soo nicely. Kissing that little spot that makes your muscles start to spasm in uneven waves—your eyesight blur and the tears streak down the sides of your face quick.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru is a lot more pleased with himself than he’d admit right now. Even after the noise, the trauma and the ashes—he still has it in him.
Still has it inside of him to unravel you with the simples touches, to have you with your mouth parted open and your eyes rhythmically rolling back as he plunges inside of you—searching for your release.
It fills his body with a tingling sensation—a lingering hot feeling right where his heart sits at the realisation that you’re his wife in every sense of the word.
That you’re still here and still so loving.
All for him.
“M-mhm?” He hears you barely make out, nails moving from his back and onto his forearms where your nails subconsciously dig into his tainted skin.
A cannined smile pulls on his handsome face, almost resembling one of his characteristic smirks that has you knowing—even in your haze—that something is coming.
“Remember the promise I made you?”
Instantly, you scramble around your mind to try and filter to the thousands of promises you’ve offered each other and that he has yet to break.
There are so many, and you don’t have enough mind to run through them all.
“Which—ngh, ‘toru!” In the middle of your attempt to speak, he shifts, hooking both legs over his shoulders. Drawing his chest down, the strong surface of his chest weighing down on your smooth skin.
“—right there! Oh—“
You’re loud. Too loud for someone on a sunbed in a public place. Satoru probably knows it. Yet he makes no effort in shutting you up—he doesn’t muffle your real moans with a kiss, doesn’t silence your babbles with his hand. He lets them pour out into the open.
He lets the world know you’re his.
And that he’s back.
Either way, you don’t make any effort to stop the shore from knowing your lover is back.
His calloused hands, detailed with resilience and his unmatched strength, go delicate as he tries to wipe the stream of tears on the sides of your face.
“C’mon baby, you know which one.”
Seeing the way you fall quiet—half losing the fight between yourself and climaxing too early as your orgasm holds you by your throat, and half winning over the chaos of your mind—he “aids” you just a bit as his left hand drops and finds your clit with soft circles.
He’s teasing you, worsening the internal struggle he’s putting you through—setting every nerve in your body on fire as he pulls your release by the reins.
“What do you want from me?”
His words find a place in your disoriented head, clicking with his previous question.
A baby.
You wanted a baby with him before the fight.
A family.
Something to remember him by
Every night before that godforsaken day.
You tried.
Clung onto his body with a different—more painful kind of desperation than the one you have right now.
Tried for a baby.
Tried to leave a part of him within you just in case he—
The answer spills out of your mouth before your mind dips to darker places.
“A family.” You breathe out, eyes clamping shut for a second.
He muses, face dipping to press soft kisses to your pulsing temple. “Yeah?”
“Y—yeah!”
Your voice pitches higher at the last second as he presses down on your clit.
“Please—please, ‘toru—don’t leave me. Give me a baby.”
You don’t realise just how your fear is spilling through the cracks as you beg to finish and for him to never be done with you.
And Satoru goes soft.
Pace stuttering, abs tightening—he’s so close, you’re so close too.
With slow strokes, already high off demolishing you the past moments—Satoru rides the last moments of the roller coaster as he reaches his end.
“I’ll give you everything, honey.” He whispers, the bed creaking less beneath the both of you as he takes you to the edge.
And you titter to your orgasm that crashes over you twice as strong the second time once he completes his sentence. “Just take it all.”
He places a soft kiss to your lips as he buries himself inside, ropes and ropes of white milky cum filing your womb—overflowing right out of your walls while he remains inside, twitching and unwilling to leave.
A choked sob is muffled as Satoru’s lips catch it, right hand caressing your cheek.
Everything falls quiet, the smell of sex in the open air quickly settles back into the horizon as the sea overtakes the atmosphere and your ears hear the waves crashing against the sand.
The birds sing a song that relaxes your muscles. Your husband goes limp inside of you before pulling out—no longer having anything left of his to give that’s not love.
He plops down to you, the bed dipping in two sides now—but it quickly goes back to only one spot when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you over his warm body, letting you hear his heartbeat underneath the layers of skin.
Thud thud thud.
The sound goes straight to your veins, travelling through arteries and shifting your own heartbeat till it follows his.
He’s home.
Your Satoru is home.
And you fall asleep in his arms.
Safe, the way you both deserve to be.
Three hours later, Satoru walks over to the rim of the sea, stares off into the distance as the sun kisses his pale skin.
He’s uncovered, letting the salty breeze greet his open and slowly healing scars.
But he’s real.
And you join him when he goes inside the water.
Because this is just the first step out of the trenches.
And you’ll be there with him every stretch of the way.
Please excuse the way this turned out, tumblr has been deleting my completed drafts and not saving anything I write and it has been killing my motivation to write. Nonetheless, thank you to the 800 of u who have been patient w me, satosugu x reader and suguru x reader smut coming soon so lmk if u wanna get tagged~ bye loves. More <3
Not proofread cause im scared it will get deleted.
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