summary: sukuna isn't pleased when he's forced to go to a new masseuse for his monthly sports massage, but upon meeting you he finds himself hopelessly smitten and desperately seeking more of your touch.
word count: 6.2k
content: 18+ mdni, smut, modern au, pining, yearing, sukuna is originally a bit of a jerk, confident reader, boxer!sukuna, reader is muscular, subby (ish) sukuna, piv, hand jobs, semi-public sex (in a massage room)
a/n: got this one in as an anon request I hope you all enjoy sukuna being NEEDY and stupid
Sukuna had been going to Toji for his sports massages for years.
They’d known each other since college, back when Toji would practice his craft on Sukuna for free on the path to getting his certification. Now Sukuna actually paid the guy to dig his elbow into his back once a month, certain that Toji’s impact had a lot to do with how effective Sukuna had been at avoiding silly injuries throughout his boxing career.
Toji was a rare gem amongst masseuses - strong enough and mean enough to do his job well, unconcerned by how much it might hurt to relieve Sukuna’s body of all the stress he’d put it under week after week.
He was the only person Sukuna trusted to do it effectively, and when he walked into Toji’s gym one day only for the receptionist to tell him that Toji wasn’t available thanks to a family emergency, he was devastated.
Part of him had considered cancelling on the spot, turning around and walking straight out the door, prepared to wait for a different time slot when Toji would be available. But his shoulder had been killing him lately and he could really do with some relief, so against his better judgement he sucked it up and agreed to see the other masseuse that worked at Toji’s gym.
Upon walking into the treatment room, he immediately decided that he’d made a mistake at the sight of you standing before him, all soft and pretty and welcoming in a way that Toji never was. You didn’t look like the type to be willing or even capable of inflicting pain upon anyone - he doubted he’d even be able to feel your tiny hands once they were pressed against his back.
Call him sexist, but he really believed that men were just better suited for that line of work.
Sure, a nice, relaxing massage would be better delivered by a woman, but a sports massage? He doubted you had the strength for what he needed.
“Sukuna, right?” You’d asked, peering up at him with wide eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. Remove your clothes and cover yourself with a towel, I’ll give you a few moments to get settled-”
“No need,” he said sharply. “When’s Toji back?”
You wavered. “We’re not quite sure. His daughter was in some kind of sudden accident, he might not return for a few weeks, he needs to be there for his family in this difficult time…” You trailed off before continuing, taking stock of the resignation on Sukuna’s face. “I can assure you that I’m perfectly capable of attending to your needs. Toji hired me personally and can vouch for my skill.”
Chewing on his lip, Sukuna appraised you once more. You were a pretty thing, even in the ugly green uniform that Toji had picked for his specialists. His thoughts lingered on what you might’ve meant when you said that Toji could vouch for your skill - did you mean that in a clinical manner, or was Toji using you for different means?
Sukuna wouldn’t have been surprised if the latter was the case. You were his type which meant you were probably also Toji’s type, a thought that had a fresh wave of dread washing over him because if Toji had only hired you because you’d been sleeping with him, Sukuna was in for a rough massage.
“Happy? Or are you gonna throw a tantrum?” You asked, a little impatiently, your hands firm on your hips. He was almost impressed by the bite in your voice, but it still didn't particularly convince him you’d be any good at this.
However, the flex of his arm as he moved a little reminded him just how much he needed this massage, so biting back his pride he nodded, speaking through gritted teeth. “Whatever, sure.”
You looked far from impressed, but upheld your professional image regardless. “Great, you get yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
It took Sukuna all of five minutes to realise that he might’ve underestimated you.
He’d laid down on the table as normal, half expecting to spend his half-hour session asleep, figuring he could at least catch up on that if you were no good at what he’d paid you to do. And to start with, you’d been as gentle as he’d expected, your hands running tenderly over the muscles in his back, no doubt impressed by them.
But that was where your kindness stopped.
“You’re carrying a lot of tension up here.” You spoke matter of factly, fingers prodding a knot on the upper left side of his back. “It must be painful to sleep on your side right now.”
Sukuna grunted in affirmation, uninterested in making conversation or doing anything that might make you feel praised, even if you were technically right in your assumption. You didn’t seem deterred, it was almost like you were expecting him to be difficult, and he wondered if Toji had warned you about him in advance.
Walking around the table, you positioned yourself in the optimal place to work at the knot, and Sukuna found himself caught mid eye-roll when your palm dug into his back with much greater force than before, working away at the knot with enough strength that he found his fingers curling.
That was how much of the rest of his session went.
He’d been wrong to assume that you were too weak, because you’d worked at each section of his body with more ferocity than Toji usually would, almost like you were trying to teach him a lesson. Any knot found in his back and legs had been thoroughly beaten back into place, scared off by the skilled nature of your fingers.
When you were done, allowing him to sit up, a towel still wrapped around his midsection, he felt thoroughly frazzled, his red eyes a little hazy. His back felt better than it ever had before, the ghost of your fingers still prominent against his tanned skin. He had to admit that your touch felt nicer on him than Toji’s did.
Not that he should be thinking about that.
“All good?” You asked coolly, as if this was just run of the mill for you. He supposed it probably was. “If there’s something I’ve missed let me know and we can go over it again.”
“Uh- n-no.” He could’ve died of embarrassment at the way he stuttered, emasculated even further by you grinning down at him in amusement. The worst thing was that he couldn’t really decide if he was humiliated or turned on, or maybe both.
There was one particular body part of his that seemed to know the answer to that question, and he really hoped that you wouldn’t notice the slightly raised portion of the towel hugging his hips.
“Great, then you’re all good to go. Since you only come by once a month, Toji should be back by your next appoint-”
“Actually I think I need another appointment next week. My shoulder’s been acting up.” It was almost like an out of body experience, the words leapt from his throat before he could stop them and now you were smirking harder and he hated it and maybe he hated you.
“Oh, it seemed alright-”
“Well it's not.” He snapped, red gaze unwavering. You blinked at him a few times, staring down at him like you were trying to figure him out. It was clear that you’d been fully aware of his animosity towards you when he’d walked in, seemingly both puzzled and amused by his change of heart.
“Okay, sure. I’ve got an opening this time next week?”
“Great, I’ll be there.”
Sukuna didn’t like to admit how much he thought about you throughout that week. He especially didn’t like to admit to the sheer number of times he’d awoken with wet boxers, the dream of your touch still prominent in his mind.
He wasn’t sure what it was about you that had infected his brain so thoroughly. Sure, you were hot, but so were plenty of women, and Sukuna rarely had them rattling about in his head. It probably had more to do with your physical strength and perhaps your resolve, because even when he’d written you off, you’d shown him exactly what you were worth.
That, and the fact he couldn’t seem to get your condescending smirk out of his mind any less than he could stop feeling the ghost of your touch. He wasn’t used to meeting women who would treat him like that, more accustomed to the type that would fawn at his feet, those who were vapid and boring.
And you certainly weren’t that.
In the time between appointments, he’d even seen you across the gym when he’d been lifting weights. He imagined that you were there a lot, now that he could see your muscles, unobscured by those stupid clothes Toji made you wear. It wasn’t surprising that he’d never noticed you before, tending to stay in his own little bubble of focus at the gym, but now that he was aware of you he could barely tear his eyes away.
You were strong, so strong, doing weighted pull-ups with 20kg attached to you like it weighed nothing. And based on the way that his heart sped up at the sight, beating almost into overdrive as you smiled at him upon noticing his stare, he found that shit immensely attractive.
Shit, he really hoped Toji hadn’t been fucking you. That would suck.
Sukuna visited you again, and again you gave him the best massage of his life, driving your elbow into his back with a force that had him seeing stars. His heart fluttered with each simple touch of your hands, mind hazy with need as your fingers worked on his shoulders and he found himself wishing you were working on a different part of him.
That was how things continued for weeks, in which Sukuna spent an ungodly amount of money just to have you touch him again, pretending that he had various issues which he certainly didn’t because you’d thoroughly removed all his knots and tensions during his very first visit. But he wasn’t sure what else he could do, addicted to your touch and unable to find a more effective way to be close to you.
Because he was almost certain that you didn’t really like him.
Whenever he appeared, trying to make small talk or even flirt, you’d brush him off coolly, getting straight to the point, urging him to lay down and silencing him beneath the harsh and strong movements of your hands. He had no better luck at the end of sessions either, for you’d hurry him along claiming that you had another client waiting.
The waiting room was usually empty when Sukuna left so he doubted the legitimacy of your claim, but you’d left him at something of a loss as to how to handle you.
To be honest, he wasn’t accustomed to chasing after women. Usually, he’d sleep with whatever women chose to throw themselves at him, seeking fleeting pleasure in the form of one night stands, never putting much effort into seeking out someone he liked - as long as they were hot he tended to be game.
And then there was you, throwing his whole system and all of his beliefs completely out of check, because sure, he wanted to fuck you, but he also wanted to know you, and it was pissing him off that after several weeks of coming to you unfalteringly, he was no closer to you than he had been in that first session.
What hurt even more was the one afternoon that he came in for his appointment, figuring that he’d finally bite the bullet, swallow his pride, and just ask you out, only to find Toji waiting for him in the treatment room.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” Toji looked a little tired, having spent the last couple of months helping his daughter recover from her accident. Sukuna felt a flicker of annoyance at the sight of him, frustrated that his plans for the afternoon had been ruined.
“Good.” Sukuna said warily. “I didn’t realise you were back.”
He shrugged. “Tsumiki’s mom can look after her for a bit and I was going stir-crazy. Figured I’d come back to work and get back on a normal schedule.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, figured I’d give my cover a bit of a break, I’m sure you were fuckin’ awful to her while I was gone.”
Sukuna hummed, chewing on his lip. “I mean, she was adequate, I guess.”
Toji seemed to suddenly perk up at his words, green eyes narrowing as he peered at Sukuna’s face. Sukuna tried to stay nonchalant, staring back at his friend like there was nothing more to be said on the matter.
“She was adequate?” He asked slowly.
“Sure.”
“Really? I thought you’d be cursing my name for letting some girl take care of you.”
“Well, she was decent, what else is there to say?” Sukuna snapped, wondering how he could ask Toji if he could switch over to being your patient permanently without taking a massive hit to his pride.
Clearly, he hadn’t hidden the emotion in his voice as well as he should’ve, because Toji was tilting his head to the side in question, a slowly growing smirk stretching across his face. “Got something you wanna tell me dude? You said you’d rather die than let someone else handle your massages.”
“Nothing.” He hissed quickly. “It was fine, just fine. I don’t pay you to talk, I got somewhere to be.”
“Okay, okay,” Toji said with a raise of his hands, but the grin didn’t falter and Sukuna hated that.
Toji’s massage sucked.
He didn’t think that anything had actually changed in terms of what Toji did - the issue was that it wasn’t your hands pressing against his back, it wasn't the sound of your gentle breaths cutting through the silence of the room.
It was disappointing, and he was humiliated that he actually felt that way.
He didn’t return for an appointment for a full month after that, going back to his usual schedule now that Toji had returned. He’d seen you in the gym a few times, but you were always working out with friends or sometimes guys and despite all his confidence there was something in him that felt afraid to approach you. He cared too much about the idea of you turning him down, laughing in his face like he had a chance.
So he left you be, and resigned himself to his fate.
When his next appointment rolled around, he’d gone into his usual room, waiting glumly for Toji to arrive, hoping for the entire encounter to be done swiftly. There was no joy in it now, it was nothing beyond a necessity for him to maintain his physical health.
His heart had practically leapt from his throat when you’d walked in through the door instead of Toji, greeting him with the smallest upturn of your lips.
“Hey.”
“Hey!” His words came out an octave higher than usual, and you couldn’t hide the smile it drew from you, sending humiliation coursing through him. That seemed to be a regular response in all matters concerning you, and he tried his best to push the feeling aside. “Toji back off work?”
“No, he’s here. He just gave your appointment to me, said I’m better suited for your needs.”
“Oh.”
Sukuna wanted to crawl in a hole and die, unable to stop imagining how that conversation would’ve gone down. Did Toji have a big grin on his face when he’d told you about the change? Had his tone been particularly suggestive, betraying exactly what Sukuna felt when he was around you?
“I can call him in if you’d prefer him though? He’s not got a patient right now so-”
“No.” Sukuna was quick to interrupt you, “it’s fine.”
“Just fine, huh?” You mused, seemingly to yourself. You didn’t give Sukuna a chance to admit that he was glad for the change, swiftly moving on and telling him to get undressed, sweeping out of the room for a few moments while he got himself settled atop the table, his heart racing at a hundred miles a minute.
He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed your touch until your hands were on him once more, sturdy in their feel but somehow much softer than Toji’s. You’d remained silent as you’d gone through your usual routine, quiet and even breaths falling from your lips, fingers pressing on the knots that had reformed at the base of his neck and in his shoulders. For once he actually needed to see you, having grown tense in your absence over the past few weeks.
“Is the pressure okay?” You’d asked softly, to which he replied with a quiet grunt of affirmation, because of course it was, you always knew exactly what to do to ease his strained body.
He wondered how it would feel to have your steady hands wrapped around his cock, squeezing with just the right intensity to have him unravelling.
“Adequate, would you say?” You asked, with an amused lilt. Sukuna froze up, any tension that you’d eased immediately flooded back into his shoulders at the words he’d spoken to Toji about you during his last session.
That bastard had really sold him out. He was probably in his office laughing about that shit.
“I said you were decent, actually,” he mumbled, figuring that he might as well stand up for himself. The sweet quality of your giggle caught him off guard, eyes widening in shock because he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard you laugh before. You were usually so stoic with him, never offering him anything more than a smug smile.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. Why else would I be here so damn often?”
You hummed, fingers still pressing into the muscles of his upper back. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out, since we both know there’s nothing wrong with your shoulder.”
Falling silent, he felt his cheeks warm under the question. He was usually so in control where women were concerned, usually he was the cat toying with a mouse, but he felt that the roles had been thoroughly switched now. Still, you continued stroking his back, his cock hardening with each careful move of your fingers.
He was convinced he was leaking onto the towel below him when he heard you let out a gentle sigh. “Sometimes, I’m almost convinced that you come here just to see me. But that would be crazy, right? You must’ve spent a small fortune at this point.”
Sukuna didn’t want to think about how much money he’d spent in the last two months, but he couldn't say that he regretted a single penny. Fortunately, he was accustomed to winning his matches and through competition earnings and sponsors he had more than enough to afford it.
Though, that money could certainly be better spent on you rather than half of it lining Toji’s pockets.
“Would you like it if that was the reason?” He felt like a teenager again, trying to feel out a crush before committing to something that might end in rejection.
“I think I’d be confused as to why you didn’t just ask me out.” You giggled again, hands stilling but not pulling away from their position on his back.
Well, now he felt a little stupid.
“I think I’d be flattered though. Maybe I'd even be interested,” you continued.
“Maybe?” He asked, heart fluttering. He was still staring down at the floor through the hole in the table, completely at your mercy, only able to imagine what expression you were wearing as you peered down at him, completely distracted now from the task at hand.
“Mmmm, hypothetically, if that was the reason.”
Sukuna swallowed hard, starting to catch on to the fact that you wanted him to speak the words out loud, to swallow his pride and confess his desires. He hated how you always had the upper hand with him, always in control since the very first time he’d met you. He hated how much he liked it, how much he wanted to do whatever you told him to.
“I want you.” The words came out all matter of fact, spoken more like he was listing groceries rather than confessing. He wanted to brush over it and get to the part where you were his, the moment that you’d climb on top of him and ride him until he couldn’t breathe, your hands pressing at his shoulders while you did so.
But you were something of a sadist, because instead of simply accepting his confession, you said: “more.”
And he didn’t hesitate, throwing himself over the threshold because now he’d admitted to his liking of you, what was the point in maintaining a stoic sense of pride?
He pushed himself up onto his forearms, twisting around to look at you. “I’m here because I can’t stop thinking about you, hell I fuckin’ dream about you. I want you, I want you to touch me more, fuck.”
“Yeah?” Your expression was ecstatic, eyes glimmering with glee. Sukuna suddenly found himself overly aware of how naked he was and how dressed you were, feeling almost shy under this newly found attention.
“Yeah, I mean, look at you.”
“It’s funny, when you first showed up here a few months ago, you didn’t seem to like me much at all.”
His body literally sagged, wishing he could go back and undo all the rudeness from the first time he’d met you. At this point he’d been thoroughly humbled - you’d proven that women could be just as effective at giving sport massages as men, and you’d also stolen his heart in the process. He had really learned his lesson.
“Sorry. I was a jerk.”
“You were. It was cute hearing you stutter after that first session though, really adorable stuff.”
“Stop.” He groaned, his cheeks reddening.
“Pretty sure you were hard too.”
He had been, just like he was in that moment, but he hated the fact that you’d known and had said absolutely nothing for two months. He was torn between wanting to implode beneath the weight of his own cringe, and being the happiest he’d ever felt, because he was pretty sure that through all your teasing this was you accepting his confession.
“I also really liked watching you invent excuses to come back every week. My friends were sure you were gonna ask me out.”
Sukuna shrugged, sitting up properly now and trying to relax. It wasn’t often that he’d been free to peer so openly at your face like he was right now, and it was a tough task to keep himself calm because you were just so lovely and he really wanted to lean forward and kiss you. He wanted you on the table with him - on top of him, beneath him, whatever - he just needed you.
“Look, I didn’t wanna seem like a creep and overstep a professional boundary,” he confessed. “I was scared it would be one of those situations where a guy thinks a stripper loves him.”
Again you laughed. “Aw, that's actually kind of a sweet consideration. Toji told me that you were a jerk through and through, but I guess he’s wrong.”
Sukuna pouted at the idea of Toji telling you anything about him, although his buddy clearly did a somewhat decent job at wingmaning considering he’d orchestrated the current situation.
“I actually thought you’d approach me when I was working out. I was always smiling at you in the gym but you’d never come over.”
God, he really was an idiot.
He wanted to kick himself for not catching on sooner that you were open to his advances. It was something of an embarrassment for someone who usually held such confidence.
“Again, I didn’t want to be one of those gross gym bros trying to bother a girl while she’s working out,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know- I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in me so I didn’t want to risk it.”
“Well I am. Interested in you, I mean.”
He blinked at you a couple of times, red eyes scanning your face almost in disbelief. He wasn’t sure why it came as a surprise to him, since he’d never had much of an issue getting women to like him, but for some reason you’d just seemed so unattainable. You’d always seemed aloof to him in a way that suggested his chances of dating you were about the same as dating a celebrity.
And yet, here you were.
“Oh.”
There was a moment of silence before Sukuna recovered, remembering that he was usually good with women and letting his body spring into action. His hands found your hips, tugging you forward and positioning you between his legs which were dangling over the side of the table. The towel had kept its position around his waist, but left little to the imagination as he held you there between his muscular thighs.
Lips crashing against yours, his arms wrapped firmly around your torso, pulling you closer into his grip and allowing him to deepen the kiss. You tasted faintly of honey and were just as addictive, a desire for more surging through him as he explored your mouth, your tongue dancing with his as though you’d done this a million times before.
Bravely, his hands toyed with the hem of your shirt, lifting it experimentally, thrilled when you aided him in pulling it off over your head, leaving you in your sports bra which he was equally quick to discard. It was nice to have his hands on your skin for a change, running his fingers over the muscles of your back as you lost yourselves in the kiss once more. He wondered if you’d enjoy him massaging you, or if you’d find his untrained attempts rather pathetic.
You didn’t give him much chance to find out, thoroughly distracting him with the slow movement of your hands down the length of his torso, stopping only once you reached the edge of the white towel covering him. He gasped against your mouth once your hand slipped beneath, fingers brushing gently against his pubic hair before finding the shaft of his cock.
“How about you lay back for me?” You murmured, breaking the kiss, eyes blown wide with desire. Sukuna’s cock twitched in your hand at the question, more than happy for you to tell him what to do. He shuffled back on the table, laying down on his back and relaxing as you hopped up on top of him, your knees placed firmly on either side of his thighs.
Your hand was stroking his cock languidly, lashes fluttering enticingly as you stared down at him, clearly enjoying the pleasure gripping his face with each careful touch. Your other hand was stroking his thigh, slowly massaging the muscle where dark bands of ink wrapped around his skin.
“I’ve always liked these.” You hummed, eyes flickering to the tattoos. “I admire them whenever you come in.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm. They’re hot.”
Again, Sukuna was twitching in your hand, caught off guard by the impact the simplest of compliments seemed to have on him so long as they were falling from your lips. A low groan escaped from him as you squeezed his cock a little harder, running your hand along the length of it with the same expert motions you’d use on his back.
Generally, when women had tried jerking him off in the past, it had never felt quite as good as it did to simply get himself off with his own hands - it was impossible for them to understand his body in the way that he did. And yet, under your touch he was writhing desperately, his stomach tensing with each firm stroke, trying to hold it together despite the fact he could already feel himself coming undone.
It was clear that you knew what to do - switching up the pressure and the nature of your movements, testing to see what had him shivering with the greatest intensity. Occasionally, your thumb would swipe the tip, spreading pre-cum down his shaft, all while you kept eye contact with him, your legs squeezing hard against his thighs.
“Is the pressure good?” You asked in a low tone, a teasing smile on your pretty face, speaking to him like this was just another normal appointment, like your hand was wrapped around his bicep rather than his cock.
“You know it is.” He managed to huff out, his face scarlet, only spurring you on further.
“Aw, good.” Your hand picked up speed and moments later he was cumming all over your hand, his seed dripping down your fingers, making a mess beneath the towel he was still covered with. You’d released him, and as you pulled your hand away he’d expected you to wipe it clean on the towel; instead, you raised your fingers to your lips and licked them clean of his cum without a second thought.
He was already hard again.
Fortunately, you seemed to be one step ahead of him.
Unravelling the towel hanging off his hips, you freed his cock from its confines. He watched you carefully, noting the way your eyes gazed upon it, the way your throat bobbed with a gulp at the sight. That, at the very least, restored his ego to some extent - for once he didn’t feel like he was totally on the backfoot with you.
“Impressed?” He asked, puffing out his chest with pride.
“Yeah, actually,” you responded easily. “Very impressed.”
Once again, he felt shy beneath your easy confidence, still not quite used to how easily you would say what was on your mind. There were no games, no manipulation, no pretending that you cared about something less than you really did.
He appreciated it.
“There’s only five minutes left of our session, and Toji needs the room after.” You said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Do you think that’s enough time?”
It certainly wasn’t enough time for what Sukuna wanted from you. He wanted to spend hours worshipping every part of your body, wanted to eat you out until you were crying, wanted to show you what it was like for him to be in charge. More than anything, he wanted to be buried inside of you until you were both numb and overstimulated, wanted you clinging to him in the throes of exhaustion and pleasure.
But none of that seemed fit to do in your treatment room, so it would have to wait for another time.
“I think I can be quick,” he said honestly, only to be met with a smug grin.
“Oh, I bet you can.”
“Shut up,” he mumbled, “it’s not my fault you’ve got me all riled up.”
That earned him another soft laugh, and he found that he was entirely smitten with the sound.
“Oh, how flattering of you,” you purred.
“What can I say? I’m charming.”
You didn’t respond to that, offering him nothing more than an almost shy smile as you discarded the rest of your clothes, a blush lining your cheeks for once as he took in your naked beauty. You were as gorgeous as he expected, and he found his hands trailing down your sides before coming to rest on your hips, wishing he could kiss every inch of you.
But you had speed on your mind, and leaving Sukuna in his position laying back on the table, you hovered yourself over his cock, taking it once more in your hand and rubbing it through your folds a few times before lining yourself up and sitting down on it with a quiet little gasp.
Sukuna groaned in sheer pleasure at the tightness of your walls wrapped around him, his fingers digging hard into the skin of your hips as he helped ease you down his length until he was buried to the hilt within you. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” he groaned.
“No, I think you’re just big.” You bit back at him with some effort, your hands braced on his chest while you struggled to adjust, thighs trembling ever so slightly.
“Maybe.” He tried to hide how much your comment had swelled his ego.
After giving yourself a few moments to breathe, you started to move, raising yourself up and bringing yourself down again on his cock, sweet groans and whines pouring from you as you found a rhythm, doing all the work yourself while Sukuna supported your hips. He was gazing up at you like a man who’d just witnessed an angel, red eyes shiny with affection at the sight of you on top of him, breasts bouncing with each movement.
He couldn’t remember the last time it had felt so good to be inside someone.
Probably never.
Eager to be closer to you, he propped himself up on his forearms, encouraging you to steady yourself on his shoulders. You leant forward, hands firm against his skin, your breasts pressing up against his chest, forcing you to move from long movements of your hips to simply grinding yourself against him.
A yelp left you once Sukuna decided that he wanted to help, thrusting his hips upwards and taking you along for the ride. He picked up a brutal pace, aware that the two of you were on a time limit, chuckling at the way your fingers scrambled for purchase against his skin, finding safety in the familiarity of the shoulders you’d been massaging for weeks.
“Feel good?” He rasped against your ear, aware that your movements had largely stilled, letting him take charge in filling you so thoroughly.
“S-so good,” you stuttered, and Sukuna felt a sick sense of pleasure at hearing you falter in such a way. He’d been humiliated enough for a little while and figured it was time for the tables to turn, at least for a little while.
He was certain that if things were going to work out between the two of you, he’d find many moments in which you were in control.
But right now? This wasn’t one of them.
You’d had your fun, and he was going to have his.
Just as he’d wanted, you came before he did. You did your best to muffle your cry of his name by burning your face into his shoulder, but he was sure that you’d still be heard if there were any prying ears on the other side of the door. He couldn’t really care less about such a thing - Toji had heard him having sex plenty of times throughout college.
He’d kept up his movements, fucking you through the orgasm until you were whining pathetically against his shoulder, begging him to slow down. He did no such thing until he had reached his own peak, spilling into you with a deep groan, only registering moments later that he probably should’ve pulled out first.
It wasn’t like him to forget a condom, never having fucked a girl bareback before.
But you were something different. The moment you’d offered your affection to him his mind had gone haywire, completely forgetting important details like that in favour of having you completely to himself.
He’d buy you the morning after pill as an apology.
Cradling you against him for a few moments, he wished you could stay like that for a while longer. Your weight atop his sweaty body felt lovely, and he desperately wanted to continue stroking your hair, losing himself in the intoxicating scent of you that seemed to drive him crazy.
But reality came knocking in the form of a fist against the door of the treatment room. “All done? I do have a patient in ten minutes so I need to set up.” Toji called out. You leapt from your position on top of Sukuna swiftly as if suddenly remembering yourself, glancing at the door nervously.
Sukuna wondered how much Toji had heard, wondering if the man was standing outside grinning like a Cheshire cat, ready to quiz Sukuna all about it the moment he exited.
It was likely, since Toji had always been a nosy bastard.
Too bad Sukuna wouldn’t be telling him anything about you. You were sacred to him, and it would stay that way - he wasn’t about to share anything with Toji.
“Yeah, just a few minutes!” You called back to Toji, your voice wavering a little. It was cute, how frazzled you seemed to be - he wanted to see more of that.
Letting out a heavy breath, you looked at Sukuna, who was slowly sitting up. His red eyes were darting about your face, trying to read your expression, hoping to god that this wasn’t some spur of the moment, one time thing. He wanted to take you home, wanted you in his arms.
If he had to go back to lying about aches and pains just to see you at a scheduled appointment, he was pretty sure he’d lose his mind.
“Do you wanna come to my place later?” You spoke before he could, giving him an almost bashful smile.
“Yeah. Yeah I’d like that,” he responded, shoulders relaxing.
He was pretty sure that your words alone had released a knot in his back.
That was just how good a masseuse you were.
a/n: need him so bad my GOD
ANYWAY hope you enjoyed this little one shot while I work on the next chapter of crazy in love! thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are appreciated as always <3
Levi knows he’s the strongest soldier in the Survey Corps. He can flyer faster, hit harder, and ride further than anyone else.
“An otherworldly fighting stamina,” Erwin called it.
But when he makes love to you, it’s a different story altogether.
Because you feel so good. Your body is so warm and your pussy is so tight. Each thrust he takes elicits the most wonderful moans from your lips. He wants to close his eyes and get lost in the feeling, but he’d miss the erotic sight of watching you underneath him - blissed out, body covered in marks that he gave you, smiling as you ask for more, more…
Shit
He wills everything within him to not come yet. It’s too soon, he wants to keep feeling you like this, to ravage you until you’re breathless, begging for reprieve.
But goddammit, he loves you so much and you’re just so fucking beautiful…so….so…
“Levi…”
You whimper his name and his hips falter their steady pace.
Not yet…not yet….
But he can’t help it. His climax comes strong and hard before he collapses on top of you.
Sure, the bedroom isn’t a battlefield, and his stamina might be lacking now. But Levi isn’t a quitter.
And he’ll fuck you all night until he gives you everything that you want.
Tsukishima Kei likes you—and he is so not cool about it.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Many would describe Tsukishima Kei as the cool-headed, provoking, calm, analytical, and overall nonchalant guy.
However, that is not the case for you.
To you, Tsukishima Kei is rather meek, awkward even. As if the guy loses half of his height when he’s around you.
He is rather clueless on how to approach the whole “casual friendship” stage with you, so instead, he just follows you around, like a dog, occasionally throwing mildly insulting remarks (because he fears that telling you “you look pretty” every single second might come off as creepy—as if a 6-footer trailing your footsteps all the time doesn’t look weird enough.)
Nervous!Tsukishima Kei who was so desperate to have a conversation with you that he pretended to be dumb in math, just so you could come near his face and hear your pretty voice explain equations he’s already far mastered—but of course he wouldn’t admit that aloud to anyone.
Giddy!Tsukishima Kei who wore a cheeky smile on his face for one week, all because you followed him on instagram.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who even smiled at Hinata and Kageyama, obviously scaring the shit out of them.
Bully!Tsukishima Kei who couldn’t stop laughing at how funny your cute little hands desperately reached for the piano keys when you were performing an activity in front of your music teacher.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who you always catch stealing glances at you, even when he used to sit across the room from you.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who mirrors the funny facial expressions that you show to him every time you catch him staring. Whether it’d be a scrunch of your nose, or a raise of your eyebrow, he’d instantly copy you and do it to you back.
Shameless Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who doesn’t stop staring even when you already stare back at him. He just simply cocks his head a bit to the side, with a rise of eyebrow. But deep inside, his heartbeat raced faster than he could handle.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who left a gift on your table on valentines day. They were your favourite pastries, wrapped in your favourite colour, put together with a big, neatly tied bow.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who had to learn and practice tying that bow for a whole day.
Lame-o!Tsukishima Kei who was such a tease that he signed his present in cursive kanji, in hopes that you’d have a hard time reading it and not figuring out that it came from him.
Nervous!Tsukishima Kei who reacted to your thank you message with a “👍” emoji, and ever since then, Karasuno—especially Yams and Hinata, have NOT stopped teasing him about that.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who, for once, didn’t mind being called lame by Yamaguchi and his teammates, if it meant being in love with you. But of course he’d work on being less lame and actually keeping a normal conversation, and reacting normal emojis—and maybe even making himself known to you.
Lover boy!Tsukishima Kei who promises to himself that he’d give you his valentines gift personally next year.
late-night call between dad!toji and baby megumi 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ
husband!toji x reader, some hurt to comfort, fluff | wc 1.7k
“…hey.” you murmur, your voice quiet as you flash a small smile at your husband on your phone screen.
he’s roughed up — you can tell that much from what you can see of him. the angle which he holds his phone at is inconvenient, but part of his head is in frame, seemingly propped up against the pillow of some dingy hotel bed, one of his arms resting behind his head.
your heart aches a little at how worn down he looks. it’s an unfamiliar feeling, to see your typically-strong husband looking so weathered under the lamplight, hair messy and under-eyes dark. it’s so unusual, to see his confident demeanour eroded into something much more fragile. nonetheless, there’s something sincere in his eyes, something so familiar, so distinguishably toji.
your eyes rest on his pixelated face. “how have you been?”
he sighs. “yeah…been okay. how are you? has the kid been behaving?” you snort weakly at that. for your son to ever act up was practically unheard of to both of you. he was always uncharacteristically quiet, his actions and behaviour much milder than that of any three year old child you’d ever seen.
“come on toji, i think we both know the answer to that.”
“yeah yeah. silly question i guess. but…just wanted to check.”
your heart twists a little at that, a dull ache hitting you at his words. they’re more vulnerable than you’re used to hearing from toji, and you don’t fail to miss the way his mouth twitches, as though he’s not quite sure whether to elaborate. he doesn’t have to, though. you already understand, and you can hear the regret tainting his tone.
it isn’t like it’s his fault that he hasn’t been so present in megumi’s life. what with working to provide for your little family, it makes sense that he sees the boy much less than he’d have liked. nonetheless, you can sense your husband’s insecurity easily, and it makes your chest ache.
this level of rawness between you both — unfiltered, total openness — is definitely new, but you’re undeniably glad that he’s somewhat more readable for once. seeing toji’s true feelings is a kind of luxury that you don’t normally get when speaking to him thanks to high walls he seems to have built around himself, after all.
you watch his eyes lower from the camera, his brows furrowed a little as he tries to settle with the uncomfortable feeling lingering between you both.
you hesitate. “hey…i can put megumi on the phone if you want…?”
“yeah, that’d be nice. thanks.”
you head to the living room, where megumi is currently doodling. his puffy cheeks are pushed out in careful concentration and his lip is jutted out. his hair is freshly damp from his pre-bedtime bath, and you can’t help it think that he looks eerily similar to his father. his usually thick spikes are pushes down into a mess of straight inky strands, save for the the odd few spikes that still seem to stubbornly stick out.
you crouch and rest your hands against the coffee table, speaking softly in the hopes of drawing his attention towards your words.
“hey gumi, wanna say hi to papa?” you speak tentatively, gently poking his chubby arm with your finger, but he doesn’t look up. he’s too focused on colouring in the poorly-drawn frogs on the page, sticking his tongue out and furrowing his brows further as he tries and fails to stay within the lines.
you sigh, throwing toji a quick, apologetic look over the phone before trying again.
“megs? look!” he finally looks up, blinking slowly at you, clearly unsure what you could possibly want from him. you decide to gently ease the phone into his hand, letting him take hold of it.
he peers down through long lashes at the screen, expressionless as he watches the cluster of pixels that seems to be his father shift slightly. toji sits up a little, dark green eyes a touch brighter at the sight of his son.
“hey little man. what’re you up to?”
your son doesn’t reply, uninterested in speaking as always, and simply stares at the screen in silence, lip poking out further. at the angle that megumi’s grasping the phone, you’re sure toji can see all three of the toddler’s chins as well as the mess of crayon colours staining his oversized pjs.
the bright light of the phone bounces off the boy’s face in uneven blue flickers, rays of light catching on his dark strands of hair. after a few minutes of waiting for further action from toji, your son seems to deem the (lack of a) conversation pointless, placing the phone back onto the table beside him and picking his crayon back up.
oh.
toji’s expression falls immediately, but he tries to play it off, turning his face to the side and scratching his neck awkwardly at the dismissal.
“…the kid doesn’t like me much, huh?” he jokes, but it’s evident even over the poor call quality how the joke falls completely flat, a humourless laugh escaping his lips as though to make up for it. he attempts his usual teasing grin, but it just looks…weak. somehow, he looks even more tired than he had just a few minutes ago, despite being all roughed up from all the busy days of being away from home.
you sigh and lift the phone from the table before heading to the kitchen doorway, choosing to leave megumi to colour in peace. you speak softly into your phone, trying to adopt a gentle tone: the way you speak is careful, tender, as though you’re speaking to your three year old rather than your 6’2” husband — and toji hates it. you can tell as much by the way he winces the second you speak.
“toji…it’s nothing, that’s just how he is, you know.”
“nah, don’t be like that. it’s fine.” the short laugh he forces out sounds robotic, void of any real sincerity, and you know that’s your cue to drop the topic.
nonetheless, the look of dejection simmering beneath your husband’s usually confident, lazy features breaks your heart. you’re about to speak again, hoping to salvage the situation a little, when you feel a small tug on your sleeve.
“oh! megs, what’s up?” you frown, a little alarmed at the suddenness with which he’d appeared at your side. to see megumi ask for anything is rare, and you can’t help but fear the worst — maybe he’s unwell? or has he hurt himself?
before you can spiral any further, however, the three year old reaches out a hand, expression unreadable. he’s practically on his tiptoes now, one hand holding onto your leg for support as he tries to signal for the phone silently.
“my phone?” he nods, tugging at your sweats more urgently, brows furrowed and expression determined.
puzzled, you pass the phone to him. he takes it, glancing quickly down at the screen, as though to check whether toji’s still on call. upon confirming that he is still on the line, megumi nods assuredly to himself before shuffling his way back to the living room, taking toji with him.
you follow behind, watching the chubby toddler lower himself back onto the floor and place the phone down on the coffee table, leaving toji by his side as he scribbles more frogs and a couple of bunnies onto the sheet. every few seconds he peers over the phone screen, checking to make sure toji hasn’t left. and each time, upon seeing his dad’s face peering back at him, his surprisingly stoic features soften a fraction in relief, only for the child to then return to wearing serious look as he goes back to colouring.
you notice the pattern on the third repeat, with megumi struggling to peer over the phone properly from where he’s sat down. watching him struggle to properly angle himself to see toji’s face once more, you decide to help him, carefully moving to his side and propping the phone up against a plant pot. he seems pleased at that.
by now, it’s obvious to you that toji has clearly cheered up, his usual grin back, but there’s an undeniable softness in his eyes as he watches megumi doodle quietly.
a kind of comfortable silence settles of the room, only occasionally interrupted by toji prompting megumi to show him the latest development in his drawing: first a few dogs, then an elephant and then a pair of wobbly stick men. the shorter one has noticeably spikier hair, sticking up at angles on the stick figure’s head, and you can’t help but grin at the accuracy.
at some point megumi begins to yawn. he seems to have deemed his drawing done, and so he lifts himself off the floor before sleepily laying down on the couch with the phone still propped under his arm. under his other arm are his two dog plushies, retrieved from where they had lay amongst the pile of cushions at the far end of the couch. you begin to gather the toys at the far end of the living room, having noted the toddler’s exhaustion and the clear signs that it’s his bedtime already.
toji scoffs under his breath at the captivating view of megumi’s sleeve, which is now perfectly in the way of the camera. he can’t see a thing, though he recognises the tell-tale sound of the boy’s breathing easing into gentle snores. it’s oddly soothing to him, really: the feeling of being needed by his son despite being miles away.
you finally finish tidying the toys, planning on picking your son up to take him to bed, but not without hearing toji speak softly into the phone. there’s a slight lilt to his voice, as though he’s fighting back a smile, and his usually-gruff tone has been softened into something almost borderline boyish. it’s so gentle, so uncharacteristically tender, that you almost miss it:
“night, megumi. sweet dreams.”
author’s notes: i love dad!toji and baby megumi sm they’re so precious to me
taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @akiangelcanon4sure @b-bitter @shy-guy927 + join!
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Tying up loose ends with your ex boyfriend Toji ends up in a threesome with your new boyfriend Choso?!
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: threesome activity :: some toji x choso action :: older toji :: sub cho :: dominant reader & toji :: oral m. rec :: p in v :: dp :: both in the v :: at the same damn time :: c-pied :: kissing ::
ಇ.author's note: i have a few more drabbles with this paring - so yes more to cum in the future!
The apartment door barely clicked shut before the air thickened, heavy with the kind of tension that made your pulse stutter and your thighs press together on instinct.
Toji Fushiguro stood in your living room like he still owned the place, broad shoulders filling out that worn black shirt, scarred lips curled in that same cocky smirk you’d tried so hard to forget.
Months since you’d walked out on him, and yet here he was, invited in under the flimsiest excuse after he’d spotted you and Choso at that dimly lit bar earlier tonight. Now Choso lingered just behind you, quiet as always, dark eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of wariness and something softer, something that still made your stomach flip.
Toji didn’t waste time. His large hand caught your wrist, tugging you forward until your chest bumped his. “Missed this pretty little body,” he rumbled, voice low and mean, the way it always got when he wanted something. His other palm slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking your shirt up without asking. Choso stepped closer too, hesitant at first, but when you didn’t pull away his hands joined in, gentler but just as eager, peeling the fabric over your head until cool air kissed your bare skin.
Clothes came off in a messy rush. Toji ripped your bra down your arms with a grunt, tossing it aside like it offended him, while Choso’s fingers worked your jeans open, pushing them down your legs along with your panties in one careful tug. You were naked between them in seconds, skin prickling under their stares.
Toji’s gaze dragged over you slow and possessive, grumpy old bastard that he was, muttering, “Still lookin’ like you were made for me, huh?” Choso said nothing, just pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his long hair brushing your cheek as his hands roamed your waist.
They walked you backward through the hallway, Toji’s bulk guiding the way with that dominant swagger he never lost, one arm hooked around your middle while Choso followed close on your other side.
The bedroom door swung open and they pushed you inside, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress before you even realized. Toji shoved you down onto the edge of the bed, standing tall over you, already palming the thick bulge straining his pants. “On your knees, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about that mouth wrapin’ around me all night.”
You sank down obediently, the carpet soft under your knees, and tilted your head up at him with a sweet little smile that made his green eyes narrow. “Choso,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. “Come here, baby.”
Toji’s brows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck? You ain’t callin’ him over to suck my cock or watch like some this is some goddamn show. This ain’t—”
“Shut up, Toji,” you cut in, voice calm but firm, the same tone you used when he used to push too far back when he was yours. He actually paused, jaw ticking, that scowl deepening, but he didn’t stop you.
Choso knelt beside you without hesitation, cheeks faintly pink under the dim lamp light, his dark eyes flicking up to yours for approval. You turned to him first, cupping his face and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding lazy and wet while your hand drifted down to palm Toji’s cock through his unzipped pants.
You freed him, thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip, stroking him firm and steady as you made sure Toji watched every second of the kiss— the way Choso melted into it, soft little hum vibrating against your lips.
When you finally broke the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both for a moment, you smiled at Choso and murmured, “Be a good boy for me. Suck him.”
Toji barked a laugh, rough and disbelieving. “Fuck no. You serious? He ain’t—”
You shot him a look. “I said shut up and let him.”
Choso was shy about it at first, hesitating as he leaned in, but the second his pretty mouth wrapped around the head of Toji’s cock, the older man’s hips jerked and a low, shocked groan tore from his throat. “Oh my fuck…” Toji’s hand came down to tangle in Choso’s long hair, not guiding yet, just holding on as that warm, wet heat enveloped him.
Choso’s mouth was perfect— soft lips stretching around the girth, tongue swirling, lazy circles over the swollen head, lapping at the precum like he was savouring it. He took more, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed slowly, one hand braced on Toji’s thick thigh while the other came up to gently roll and tug at his heavy balls.
You watched with a satisfied little smile, still kneeling right there beside him, your hand resting on Choso’s back in quiet praise. “That’s it, good boy,” you cooed softly, voice dripping honey. “Just like that. Use your tongue more on the head, baby— he likes that.”
Toji’s head fell back for a second, a guttural curse spilling out as Choso obeyed instantly, licking broad stripes up the underside before sucking the tip back into that slick heat, eyes fluttering half-closed like he was lost in it. The contrast hit Toji hard— the way Choso moved so obediently, no backtalk, no attitude, just pure eager submission. He looked almost like a well-trained pet, kneeling there pretty and focused, long hair spilling over his shoulders while he worked Toji’s cock deeper into his throat with wet, obscene sounds.
“Fuck, ma,” Toji grunted, voice rougher now, hips twitching as he stared down at the scene. His free hand reached out to grip your chin, tilting your face up so he could see your smile. “You got him well trained like a dog. This the kinda shit you’re into now? Lettin’ your new boytoy slobber all over your ex’s dick just ‘cause you say so?”
You leaned into his touch, still smiling, eyes sparkling with that quiet triumph. “Yeah,” you said simply, voice soft and warm as you stroked Choso’s hair. “Choso listens. He’s good for me. Never argued or made everything a fight… unlike someone.”
Toji’s laugh came out breathless, a mix of annoyance and reluctant heat, his cock twitching hard between Choso’s lips as the younger man hollowed his cheeks again, taking him even deeper with a soft, muffled moan.
Choso’s tongue pressed flat against the vein running underneath, swirling and teasing, while his fingers continued their gentle massage on Toji’s balls, coaxing more precum to leak onto his tongue.
Toji’s grip tightened in Choso’s dark hair, but he didn’t force the pace— couldn’t, not when it felt this fucking good, that shy obedience wrapping around him tighter than any attitude ever had.
You stayed right there, naked and kneeling between them, one hand on Choso’s thigh for balance and the other occasionally reaching up to trace Toji’s abs, feeling the way his muscles jumped under your touch.
The bedroom filled with the wet sounds of Choso’s mouth, Toji’s low grunts, and your quiet praises whispered like secrets. “Good boy, Choso… swallow around him, just like that. See how much he likes it when you’re sweet for him?”
Choso hummed in response, the vibration making Toji hiss through his teeth, green eyes narrowing down at you with that familiar mean edge softened by raw pleasure. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much, brat,” he muttered, but there was no real bite left in it— not when his cock was buried in that perfect, warm mouth and you were watching him unravel with that knowing little smile.
Toji’s hips twitched again, thicker veins pulsing against Choso’s tongue as the younger man kept working him slow and deep, cheeks hollowed, lashes fluttering like he was lost in the taste.
That wet heat dragged along every inch, tongue pressing flat and swirling lazy circles around the swollen head before sliding back down until the tip nudged the back of Choso’s throat.
Choso didn’t gag, didn’t pull away— just swallowed around him with a soft, obedient little sound that had Toji’s abs tightening, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The older man’s hand stayed tangled in all that dark hair, fingers flexing like he wanted to fist it tight and fuck into that pretty mouth until tears spilled down Choso’s cheeks, but he held back, jaw clenched, breathing rough through his nose. Cocky bastard that he was, even he could feel how perfectly Choso was sucking him off, all shy devotion and slick warmth that made his balls draw up tighter with every pass.
You stayed kneeling right beside them, naked skin flushed warm, smiling that soft, satisfied smile while your hand rested on Choso’s thigh, thumb stroking gentle circles of praise. The sight of Toji trying so hard to keep control, hips barely rocking forward instead of slamming deep, sent a sweet thrill curling low in your belly.
Choso’s mouth made the filthiest sounds— wet slurps and quiet gulps, saliva already dripping down his chin and coating Toji’s heavy length in shiny streaks.
Toji’s gaze finally snapped to you, green eyes dark and hungry, his free hand shot out fast, fingers threading rough through your hair and yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look up at him.
The pull stung just enough to make you gasp, lips parting on a soft breath. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he growled, voice gravel-rough and mean. “You’re smilin’ like you won somethin’. Wet those pretty lips for me.”
He pulled out of Choso’s mouth with a wet pop, the thick head glistening, strings of saliva and precum webbing between Choso’s swollen lips and Toji’s cock like glistening threads that stretched and broke as he moved. Choso stayed kneeling there, breathing hard, lips shiny and parted, a faint blush high on his cheeks as he looked at you both with those dark, obedient eyes.
You swallowed once, throat bobbing, and Toji’s smirk sharpened, cock twitching in the cool air. “Come on, you little brat,” he said, low and taunting, tugging your hair again to tilt your face exactly where he wanted it. “Put that evil little mouth to work. Been watchin’ you direct your pet like a fuckin’ conductor— now show me what that smart mouth can really do.”
Your smile never faded, only curved wider as you leaned in, tongue darting out to trace the messy trail of spit and precum still clinging to him. Choso watched quietly from beside you, one hand resting lightly on your knee like he was waiting for whatever you’d tell him next. Toji’s grip in your hair stayed firm, guiding you closer until your lips brushed the slick head, the salty taste blooming across your tongue as you opened for him.
The bedroom air felt thicker now, heavy with the scent of skin and want, the three of you tangled in that messy heat where Toji’s dominance clashed against Choso’s sweet obedience and your quiet control. You took him in slow at first, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling just like you’d told Choso to do, while Toji’s low groan filled the room and his fingers tightened in your hair, hips finally giving one shallow thrust forward.
A low sound slipped from your throat as Toji pulled free and slapped his thick, spit-slick cock against your parted lips, the heavy weight of it landing wet and deliberate, smearing more of that messy mix of precum and Choso’s saliva across your mouth.
He did it again, harder this time, the wet smack echoing soft in the quiet bedroom while his scarred lips pulled into that mean, cocky grin. “That’s it, open wider, brat. Gonna fuck this throat pretty tonight— been thinkin’ about shuttin’ you up like this for months.”
He despised you, or at least that’s what the rough grip in your hair said, the way his fingers twisted tighter like he wanted to punish you for walking out, for replacing him with someone so sweetly obedient. But underneath scowl and the low growl in his chest, Toji knew you could take it. You always had. His hips rolled forward slow at first, feeding you inch after thick inch until the head nudged the back of your throat and your eyes watered just a little.
You swallowed around him anyway, lips stretched wide, tongue pressing flat along the underside as he started to thrust deeper, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that made your throat bulge faintly with every push.
Choso stayed knelt right beside you the whole time, dark eyes wide and fixed on the way your mouth worked Toji’s cock, the wet gluck-gluck sounds filling the room as spit dribbled down your chin and onto your bare tits. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched with that shy heat blooming across his cheeks, his own cock hard and untouched between his thighs.
Toji noticed. Of course he did. Without missing a single thrust into your throat, he reached down with his free hand and caught Choso under the chin, tilting that pretty face up towards him. “C’mere, pet,” he rumbled, voice rough but almost amused. “Give me a kiss while your girl chokes on me.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up around his cock, but Toji yanked your head forward again, burying himself deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis and your words dissolved into a muffled gag. “Shut up and keep suckin’,” he snapped down at you, green eyes flashing with that familiar mean edge. “And watch. Eyes open, sweetheart. Don’t you dare look away.”
Choso hesitated for half a second, shy as always, but when Toji’s thumb brushed his bottom lip he leaned in obediently. Toji grabbed him harder then, fingers sliding into that long dark hair as he crushed their mouths together in a deep, filthy kiss. It wasn’t soft.
It was all tongue and teeth and dominance, Toji’s jaw working as he licked into Choso’s mouth like he owned it, swallowing the soft, surprised whimper that spilled from the younger man. Choso melted almost instantly, shoulders slumping, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back with that quiet eagerness he always gave you— hands coming up to rest lightly on Toji’s broad chest, body leaning closer like he couldn’t help it.
You watched every second of it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the relentless pace Toji set in your throat, but the sight burned hotter than anything.
Choso’s lashes trembling against his cheeks, a faint moan vibrating between their locked lips as Toji kissed him harder, tongue stroking deep and possessive while his hips kept snapping forward into your mouth.
Spit trailed from the corner of Choso’s lips, his cheeks flushed darker, and when Toji finally pulled back just enough for them to breathe, a thin string of saliva still connected them for a moment before breaking.
Toji’s laugh came out low and breathless, thumb swiping over Choso’s swollen bottom lip as he looked down at you. “Fuck, look at him. So damn well-trained. One kiss and he’s already drippin’ for it.” His cock twitched hard against your tongue, the praise mixed with taunt making your stomach twist in the best way.
You kept sucking through it all, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around every thick thrust while your eyes stayed locked on the way Choso stayed pliant and open, lips parted and shiny, waiting for whatever came next.
Toji’s green eyes flicked between the two of you, that mean smirk deepening as he kept his hips rolling slow and deep into your throat. “She has you so fuckin’ obedient, huh?” he rumbled, voice thick with gravel and heat. “Bet you never fucked her throat like this. She’s a little brat, don’t let her fool ya. Acts all sweet and in control, but look at her— mouth stuffed full and still smilin’ around my cock.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up, but Toji didn’t let you. He fucked forward harder instead, burying himself to the hilt until your nose pressed flush against his pelvis and your throat convulsed around him. “See?” he growled, holding you there, eyes narrowing with dark satisfaction. “She doesn’t even fuckin’ gag anymore. Loves this shit. Been cravin’ it since she left my sorry ass, I bet.”
The stretch burned so good, spit dripping down your chin in messy rivulets as you breathed hard through your nose, tears clinging to your lashes. Toji kept you pinned like that for a long moment, savouring the tight heat, before he finally pulled out with a wet, obscene pop.
Thick strings of saliva and precum connected your swollen lips to his glistening cock before they broke, and you gasped for air, chest heaving, throat raw and tingling.
Toji stepped back, cock heavy and slick between his thighs, and dropped onto the bed with a grunt, sprawling out on his back like he owned the damn mattress. His muscles flexing under scarred skin as he stroked himself once, slow and lazy, green eyes locked on you with that cocky, command. “Get your ass up here, sweetheart. You're gonna take all of this cock. Now.”
You were still catching your breath, lips shiny and parted, but you moved anyway, crawling up the bed on shaky knees. Choso was right there, gentle hands sliding under your arms to help you up, supporting your weight with that quiet care he always gave you. His touch was soft against your flushed skin, thumb brushing your side like a silent promise as he guided you over Toji’s lap.
As you crawled forward, knees bracketing Toji’s thick thighs, hovering just above his heavy, leaking cock, Toji’s gaze shifted to Choso. “Come on, don’t just stand there like a lost puppy,” he said, voice low and rough, one hand reaching out to pat the bed beside him. “You don’t mind fuckin’ her pussy right? While she’s sittin’ on me, fuckin’ get over here.”
Choso’s cheeks flushed darker, shy with hesitation flickering across his face for half a second, but he obeyed like always, climbing onto the bed without a word. You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled close, one hand resting on your lower back, warm and steady. Toji’s palms gripped your hips hard, fingers digging in with that possessive meanness as he yanked you down just enough for the blunt head of his cock to nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing, waiting.
Toji didn’t wait long. With a low grunt he bucked his hips up, thick cock pressing into your cunt in one slow, relentless push. The stretch was brutal and perfect, that fat length splitting you open until your walls fluttered tight around every veined inch. You sank all the way down until your ass met his pelvis, a broken moan spilling from your raw throat as he bottomed out deep inside you.
Toji’s scarred hands stayed locked on your hips, holding you there, grinding you down harder so you felt every thick inch pulsing against your sensitive walls.
“Fuck, still so goddamn tight,” he muttered, voice rough and mean, green eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you. “Missed this greedy little pussy. Swallowing me like it never forgot who it belongs to.”
You rocked your hips experimentally, a soft gasp escaping as the head of his cock nudged that spot inside you that made your toes curl. Choso stayed right behind you, quiet and watchful, his warm palm sliding up your spine in gentle strokes while his other hand rested lightly on your hip. His dark eyes were fixed on where you and Toji were joined, lips still swollen from that shared kiss earlier, a faint flush creeping down his neck.
Toji noticed the way Choso hovered, all shy obedience and quiet heat. His smirk sharpened, one hand leaving your hip to reach over and tug Choso closer by the back of his neck. “Don’t just sit there starin’, pet. Get in her. You heard me earlier— you’re fuckin’ her pussy too.”
Choso’s breath hitched, shy as always, but he moved without argument, shifting until he was kneeling behind you on the bed. His long hair brushed your bare back as he leaned in, chest pressing warm against you, cock hard and leaking as it nestled against the curve of your ass.
Toji kept you pinned down on his thick length, hips giving lazy little rolls that made you whimper, while Choso’s hands settled on your waist, gentle and careful like he was afraid to break you.
You felt Choso’s fingers first, tentative as they slid between your spread thighs, brushing where Toji’s cock was already stretching you wide.
He traced the slick stretch of your cunt with soft fingertips, collecting the mess of your arousal before wrapping his hand around his own cock, guiding the head to nudge right beside Toji’s.
The pressure was overwhelming— two thick cocks pressing against your entrance at once, Choso’s shy hesitation making him pause until you reached back and squeezed his thigh in encouragement.
Toji laughed under his breath, that low, cocky sound. “That’s it. Push in slow, kid. She can take it. Little brat’s already drippin’ down my balls thinkin’ about both of us stretchin’ her.”
Choso obeyed, pressing forward with a soft, shaky exhale. The blunt head of his cock slipped in alongside Toji’s, the burn intense and delicious as your walls stretched even wider to take them both. Inch by inch he sank deeper, his cock sliding against Toji’s inside your tight heat, the friction making both men groan low and heavy.
You cried out, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body trembling between them as they filled you completely— Toji’s girthy thickness and Choso’s warm length buried deep together.
Toji’s hands gripped your hips harder, holding you still while he gave one experimental thrust up, making both cocks shift inside you and drag against every sensitive spot.
Choso stayed mostly still at first, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathed hot against your skin, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.
“Fuck… so tight,” Toji grunted, voice strained with pleasure, hips rolling up again in a deeper thrust that made you see stars. “Look at her, takin’ us both like she was made for it. You feel that, pet? How she’s squeezin’ around us?”
Choso nodded against your neck, a soft whimper escaping him as he started to move too— slow, careful rolls of his hips that matched Toji’s rhythm, their cocks sliding together inside your slick cunt.
The wet, filthy sounds of skin against skin and the slick drag of two thick lengths stretching you open filled the bedroom, your moans mixing with their low grunts as they fucked you together.
Toji’s large, rough hands slid up from your hips, palms rough and calloused as they cupped your tits, squeezing the soft flesh with that familiar possessive grip. He pinched your nipples between his thick fingers, rolling them until they pebbled hard under his touch, a mean little smirk tugging at his scarred lips when you arched into it with a broken cry. “These pretty tits always did look best when they’re bouncin’ for me,” he growled, voice low and pleased, green eyes dark with heat as he lifted his head from the pillow just enough to latch his mouth onto one swollen nipple.
He sucked hard, tongue swirling hot and wet around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt between them. The wet pull of his mouth sent sparks straight down to where both cocks were buried deep inside your stretched pussy, your walls fluttering tight around the overwhelming fullness.
Choso kept fucking you from behind with those gentle, obedient thrusts, his cock sliding slick alongside Toji’s, every slow drag pressing them both against that perfect spot inside you that made your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
Toji switched to your other tit, sucking it into the heat of his mouth with a low, satisfied hum, his free hand still kneading the first one, thumb flicking over the spit-slick nipple he’d just released. He loved having you like this— caught between them, body trembling and moaning, that quiet control of yours fraying at the edges while two fat cocks stretched your pretty little cunt wide open.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder, driving his thick length deeper with every thrust, the lewd squelch of your arousal coating both of them growing louder as he fucked up into you with that cocky, relentless rhythm.
“Look at you,” Toji muttered against your skin, lips brushing your nipple as he spoke, voice muffled and rough. “Takin’ two cocks like a good girl. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy, squeezin’ us both so tight. Bet you missed this, huh? Missed gettin’ split open by somethin’ real after playin’ house with your obedient puppy.”
You moaned louder, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body rocking between their thrusts as the pleasure built heavy and overwhelming.
Choso’s arms stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you steady while he fucked into you with that same shy care, his breath hot and ragged against your neck, soft whimpers spilling from him every time your walls clenched around their joined lengths.
Toji kept sucking on your tits, alternating between them with wet, obscene sounds, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue, his free hand sliding down to rub rough circles over your swollen clit.
The stretch was so much— both fat cocks dragging together inside your slick heat, Toji’s dominance pinning you from below and Choso supporting you from behind, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.
Toji pulled off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with spit, and grinned up at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s it, moan for us, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you love bein’ stuffed full. Choso’s bein’ so good for you, fuckin’ this pussy nice and deep just like I told him to. But me? I’m gonna make sure you feel every inch tomorrow.”
He thrust up harder, grinding his cock against Choso’s inside you, the friction making stars burst behind your eyes as your moans turned into desperate little cries.
Choso pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, murmuring your name quietly, his hips never stopping their steady rhythm while Toji’s rough hands and hungry mouth worked your tits until they ached with pleasure.
You were lost between them, body trembling and slick with sweat, pussy clenching tight around the two thick lengths stretching you so perfectly, the heat building slow and relentless as Toji teased you with every filthy word and every deep, claiming thrust.
Toji loved every second of it— the way you fell apart so beautifully, the way Choso stayed so sweet even while buried deep inside the same cunt, the way your quiet little smile had turned into open-mouthed moans that filled the room.
He kept sucking and biting at your tits, fingers rolling your nipples, hips snapping up to meet Choso’s thrusts until the three of you moved in one messy, heated rhythm, the night stretching long and filthy with the sounds of skin slapping, wet squelches, and your broken cries echoing between the walls.
A broken little sound tore from your throat as both thick cocks dragged together inside your stretched pussy, the relentless push and pull making your walls flutter and clench around the overwhelming fullness.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder from below, driving his fat length deeper with every thrust while Choso kept that steady rhythm from behind, their cocks sliding slick and hot against each other in the tight heat of your cunt. The wet, filthy squelch filled the room, your arousal dripping down their shafts and coating their balls as they fucked you open so good.
Toji’s mouth was still latched onto your tit, sucking hard enough to leave marks before he pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen as he grinned up at you with that mean, cocky smirk.
His rough hand slid up to cup your jaw, forcing your head down so you had no choice but to meet his dark green eyes while he kept pounding up into you. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he growled, voice low and gravel-rough, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Admit it. Tell me what you are. A little brat who wants these cocks stretchin’ your greedy cunt. Say it.”
You tried to bite back the words, a soft whimper escaping instead as another deep thrust from both of them made your eyes roll back, but Toji wasn’t having it. He pinched your nipple hard, twisting just enough to make you cry out, his other hand gripping your hip tighter to hold you down on their joined lengths. “Don’t play shy now. You’re drippin’ all over us, pussy clenchin’ like it’s beggin’ for more. Tell me you want our cocks. Tell me you want our cum fillin’ this sloppy little hole.”
Choso stayed quiet behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his breath hot and shaky against your neck as he fucked into you with those gentle rolls of his hips, letting Toji take the lead like always. His cock throbbed alongside Toji’s, the friction delicious and overwhelming, every slow drag pressing right against that spot that made sparks shoot up your spine. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, shy and sweet, but didn’t stop moving, loving even in the middle of all this heat.
The stretch was so good it hurt, both fat cocks splitting your cunt wide open, dragging against every sensitive inch until you felt impossibly full, impossibly owned. Your tits bounced with every thrust, still slick from Toji’s mouth, nipples aching from his teeth and fingers. Toji’s hand slid down between your bodies, rough fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, mean circles that had your thighs shaking uncontrollably.
“Say it,” Toji demanded again, voice dropping lower, hips slamming up harder so the head of his cock bullied that perfect spot inside you while Choso’s length rubbed right alongside it. “You’re my little brat— our little brat. You want these cocks stretchin’ you good. You want us to fill your pussy with cum until it’s leakin’ out for days. Admit it, brat. Loud and clear.”
Your moans turned into desperate little cries, body trembling between them as the pleasure built hotter and heavier, walls squeezing tight around both thick shafts. Toji’s smirk widened, that cockiness flashing in his eyes as he felt you clench harder, knowing he was winning. Choso whimpered softly against your skin, his thrusts growing a little deeper, a little faster, following every cue you’d ever given him because he always listened, always gave you exactly what you needed.
You finally broke, voice wrecked and breathy as the words spilled out between moans. “I’m… I’m a-a brat… I want your cocks… both of you stretching my cunt so good… I want your cum… please…”
Toji laughed low and rough, satisfaction dripping from every syllable as he thrust up harder, grinding their cocks together inside your fluttering pussy. “That’s my girl. Keep sayin’ it while we fuck you full. Gonna fill this greedy hole until you’re drippin’ with both of us.”
The bedroom echoed with the wet slap of skin, your broken admissions, and the low grunts from both men as they kept fucking you together— Toji and Choso turning your body into a trembling, moaning mess caught right between them, the stretch so perfect and filthy that all you could do was take it and beg for more.
Together they fucked you deeper and harder, hips snapping in a messy, unrelenting rhythm that had both thick cocks driving into your stretched cunt at once. Toji thrusting up slamming his fat length as deep as it would go while Choso followed from behind with those steady rolls that somehow made everything feel even fuller, your arousal coating their shafts and dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you as they stretched your pussy so wide it ached in the best way.
You could feel the bulge in your tummy every time they bottomed out together, the outline of their cocks pressing visibly against your lower belly, shifting and dragging with every thrust. Toji’s rough hand slid down to press against that spot, palm flat and heavy as he growled against your tit, “Fuck, feel that? That’s us, sweetheart. Both cocks bulgin’ out your pretty tummy like you were made to take this.”
The pressure built fast and overwhelming, your walls fluttering tighter and tighter around them until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you clenched down violently around both cocks, milking them with rhythmic, desperate pulses.
Your whole body shook between them, thighs trembling, back arching as wave after wave rolled through you, pussy gushing slick and hot around their joined lengths while the bulge in your tummy twitched and tightened with every spasm.
Choso whimpered softly against your neck, his hips stuttering as your clenching cunt squeezed him so perfectly. “Ah—fuck… you’re squeezin’ so tight,” he breathed, voice shy and wrecked, and then he was cumming too, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep inside you in pulsing spurts. He kept thrusting through it, slow and careful even as he filled you, his cock throbbing alongside Toji’s while he painted your walls white, the added heat and slickness making the stretch feel even messier, even better.
Toji groaned low and rough at the feeling, his scarred hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight as he fucked up into the slick, cum-filled heat of your pussy. “That’s it, milk us, you little brat,” he grunted, green eyes dark with raw pleasure as he watched your face contort in bliss. “Clenchin’ so good around both of us— fuck, take it all.”
He didn’t last much longer after that. With a deep, guttural growl he slammed up one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed hard and started to cum, thick, heavy spurts of cum flooding your already full cunt right alongside Choso’s. The warmth spread deep inside you, both loads mixing together in messy, overflowing pulses that leaked out around their cocks with every shallow grind of their hips, dripping down your thighs and soaking their balls.
They stayed buried inside you even as they came down, chests heaving, bodies pressed tight around yours in a sweaty, trembling tangle. Toji’s hand stayed pressed to the bulge in your tummy, feeling the way it softened just a little with every twitch of your walls, while Choso nuzzled softly into the crook of your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your damp skin and murmuring quiet praises against you.
The bedroom air hung heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, the three of you locked together in that filthy, heated aftermath— your pussy still clenching weakly around their spent cocks, cum slowly leaking out in warm rivulets, Toji’s mean little smirk still playing on his lips even as his breathing evened out, and Choso’s gentle hold never loosening because he always stayed right where you wanted him.
They stayed buried deep for a long, lazy moment, cocks still twitching inside your fluttering cunt as the last weak spurts of cum leaked from them both. Then, slowly, Toji gave a low grunt and started to pull out first, his thick length dragging against Choso’s as he eased free with a wet, obscene sound.
Choso followed right after, gentler, his cock sliding out inch by inch until both heavy shafts slipped from your stretched hole completely. A thick rush of their mixed cum immediately dripped out of you, warm and pearly white, sliding down your thighs in slow, messy rivulets and pooling on the sheets beneath your trembling body.
You collapsed forward onto Toji’s broad chest with a soft, exhausted sigh, cheek pressing against the hard muscle slick with sweat. His skin was warm, scarred, rising and falling with heavy breaths as one of his large arms wrapped around your back, holding you there like he still had every right to. Choso stayed close behind you, his gentle hands smoothing over your hips and lower back, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder blade while his long hair tickled your skin.
Toji’s free hand slid down between your legs without warning, two thick fingers pushing back into your ruined pussy. The stretch was easy now, your walls loose and slick from taking both of them, and he scooped up the warm mixture of their cum that was still leaking out. With a lazy, filthy motion he fingered it all back inside you, slow and deliberate, pushing every drop deeper while his palm pressed firm against your swollen clit. The wet squelch of his fingers working their combined loads back into your cunt filled the quiet room, obscene and intimate all at once.
“Look at that,” Toji muttered, voice low and rough, smirk tugging at his scarred lips as he watched his fingers disappear inside you again and again. “Such a messy girl. Can’t even keep our cum inside this greedy pussy without help. Need to push it all back in where it belongs… bet you love feelin’ us drippin’ out of you, don’t you?”
You whimpered softly against his chest, hips twitching weakly as his thick fingers curled and stroked, making sure every thick rope of their release stayed buried deep. Choso’s hand joined Toji’s for a moment, tentative fingers brushing alongside as he helped press the cum back inside you, his touch so much gentler but just as eager to keep you full. The feeling of both their hands between your legs, fingers sliding through the slick mess they’d made, had fresh heat curling low in your belly even though your body felt spent and boneless.
Toji kept fingering their cum back into you, lazily, occasionally pulling his fingers out just enough to watch more of it drip before pushing it right back in with a low chuckle. “There we go… nice and full again. Gonna keep you leakin’ our loads all night, sweetheart. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Both of us markin’ up this tight little cunt.”
Choso stayed pressed against your back, arms wrapped around your waist now, murmuring quiet, sweet words against your skin while Toji’s fingers continued their slow, filthy work. You lay there between them, cheek on Toji’s warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as the cum slowly settled deep inside you, warm and heavy, a constant reminder of how thoroughly they’d claimed you tonight.
The bedroom felt heavy and quiet now, bodies tangled and slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Toji’s fingers eventually slowed but didn’t leave you completely, still lazily stroking through the mess as if he couldn’t quite stop touching what was his again, even for a little while.
Choso’s gentle hold never loosened, his breath warm against your neck, and you smiled softly against Toji’s skin, that quiet little smile that said you were exactly where you wanted to be— caught between your mean ex and your sweet boy, full of both of them, leaking and claimed and perfectly satisfied.
broke baby daddy!toji who always shows up at your door at 2 a.m. smelling like cheap whiskey and cigarette smoke, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, asking if he can crash on your couch “just for tonight” even though he said the same thing last week.
broke baby daddy!toji who forgets megumi’s birthday half the time and shows up three days late with a half-melted ice cream cake and a cheap toy from the dollar store, then acts like he’s the world’s best dad when the kid lights up anyway.
broke baby daddy!toji who spends his last $40 on scratch-off tickets and lottery tickets instead of buying groceries, then shows up at your place hungry and expects you to feed him while complaining that “the system is rigged.”
broke baby daddy!toji who fucks you like he’s trying to forget how broke he is—pinning you down on your cheap mattress, thick cock stretching you open while he growls “this pussy’s the only good thing i got left” and pumps you full until it’s leaking down your thighs.
broke baby daddy!toji who calls you “mama” in that low, gravelly voice when he’s balls-deep inside you, one scarred hand pressing on your lower belly like he’s imagining knocking you up again even though you both know he can barely afford the kid he already has.
broke baby daddy!toji who disappears for weeks on “jobs” and comes back with bruised knuckles and blood on his shirt, then expects you to patch him up and let him fuck the stress out of you on the living room floor while megumi is asleep in the next room.
broke baby daddy!toji who’s lowkey a shitty father—forgets to pick megumi up from daycare, shows up late to parent-teacher conferences smelling like booze, and once told the kid “life’s a scam, kid, don’t get your hopes up” when megumi asked why they couldn’t afford the cool sneakers all the other boys had.
broke baby daddy!toji who gets jealous as fuck when he sees you talking to guys with stable jobs and nice cars, then drags you into the bathroom later and fucks you hard against the sink while muttering “you don’t need some suit-wearing asshole. you got me. i may be broke but this dick still makes you scream.”
broke baby daddy!toji who secretly loves when you take care of him—when you bring him food after a long job or let him crash on your couch—but shows his gratitude by eating you out for hours on the kitchen counter until you’re shaking and crying his name, cum dripping down his chin.
broke baby daddy!toji who calls you when he’s drunk or high and gets all emotional, slurring “miss you and the brat… don’t know why you still put up with my broke ass,” then shows up an hour later and fucks you slow and deep on the couch while whispering half-assed apologies against your skin.
broke baby daddy!toji who’s terrible with money but weirdly good at fixing things around your apartment—leaky faucets, broken locks, the shitty heater that always dies in winter—because at least he can still feel useful in some way.
broke baby daddy!toji who, on the rare nights he actually has a little cash, spends it all on takeout and cheap beer for the three of you, then falls asleep on your couch with megumi curled up on his chest, looking almost peaceful for once.
broke baby daddy!toji who still calls you “his girl” even though you’re not together anymore, and fucks you like he’s trying to remind you why you let him knock you up in the first place.
broke baby daddy!toji who knows he’s a shitty father and a shitty partner, but keeps coming back anyway because you and megumi are the only two things in his life that feel like home.
❤︎ first time doing headcanons! and no—rich baby daddy!toji doesn’t exist.
it's easy to fall in love - and perhaps even easier to fall out of it when you discover the penpal who captured your heart might not be the man whose signature is on his letters
synopsis: a poor princess. a playboy emperor. and a devoted duke at his aide. heavy is the head that wears the crown - and heavier is the hand that wears the ring binding them together. what happens when you're up for the role of a bride? or the future empress?
pairing: emperor!gojo x princess!reader, duke!Geto x princess!reader
content: mdni, angst and smut and fluff, royal fantasy sort of au (any sort of historical accuracy is thrown out the window here lol), she falls first, he falls harder, gojo is a spoiled brat at first lol, gojo getting brutally humbled, Geto trying to steal reader from him, falling in love, heavy pining/yearning, hurt/comfort, accidental voyeurism, oral (f! receiving), kidnapping, mentions of murder/injury/torture, handcuffs, character growth, possessive geto, political schemes, unprotected piv sex, light breeding kink, fingering, loss of virginity, multiple povs and positions, creampie, backshots, marriage, making out, extremely protective gojo, proposals, confessions
Satoru Gojo was born lucky.
Beautiful and blessed. The sole heir to an empire that spawned over centuries, more wishes and wealth than any man could dream afforded to him before he could even walk.
Anything he wanted was his.
And if he didn't want it?
"I don't like her," Gojo complained, glaring through the stained glass at his afternoon play date, a potential bride - although at age twelve, he was still at least a decade away from dealing with something as dreadful as marriage.
"Please be nice," His attendant reminded him, fixing the collars on his shirt and huffing as she hurried to fix a stray strand of hair. "She's a princess too, you know."
"She's strange," He muttered under his breath, watching you sit politely at the table, hands folded in your lap, only occasionally smoothing out the skirt of your dress.
It was too big on you, probably passed down from a sister or some other family member. Frayed at the helm, like it'd been worn quite a few times before.
Some princess you were.
You'd been clinging to the shadows his whole life, attending bi-annual balls with your family just to cling to the background like a piece of art no one bothered to look at. He wouldn't have noticed, really, but your attention was annoyingly always on him.
He promised to be on his best behavior before they shooed him out to greet you, rolling his bright blue eyes the second they turned around and sticking a bug in your tea ten minutes into your so-called date just to see you squeak.
You pushed off the table trying to stand up, but it just made your cup spill in your lap instead - bug included.
It was almost cute to watch you panic, brows pushed together in a frustrated pout as you desperately tried to clean yourself, maids and attendants rushing out to see the commotion and their young master responsible for it.
But somehow, you were the only one who got scolded for it. Watching you get the blame made him feel bad, a harsh stab of guilt pricking at him, but he was quick to push it down.
Just the perks of being a prince, he supposed.
You were the unlucky one here.
Gojo always got his way - so why should he marry you?
He didn't even have to complain this time - whatever distant family member that brought you to the palace caught some grave illness, and you returned with them to whatever impoverished kingdom you came from.
Occasionally, he'd receive letters from you over the next handful (or two) of years, time passing while they went unopened, shoved off on his aide while he busied himself with politics and parties. Going from a prince to an emperor while you were gone after his father passed. Geto halfheartedly scolded him for not replying to you, insisted he should maintain a positive relationship even if he wasn't going to marry you, but what was the point of listening when he was supposed to be the man everyone listened to?
You didn't attend the balls anymore, but your letters grew more frequent, at least two a month left in the stack on his desk before Geto snatched the pile to reply for him.
"Why is she sending so many?" Gojo groaned, picking up one and squinting at the neat script on the front of the envelope, the ornate wax seal carefully stamped on. He reclined back in his office chair, legs sprawled out as he traced over the ink splotches on the ivory.
"Hm?" Geto murmured, too distracted with whatever form he was filling out to look up. Despite being his aide, he was a Duke too, technically in the line for the throne and with people of his own to manage and business to attend to.
"Our favorite princess," He dryly replied. You'd become something of a joke, more with himself than to Geto. A constant that was never even there, a shadow that followed him despite the years and distance that separated you. A running gag of a girl who couldn't take a hint.
He caught a whiff of a surprisingly intoxicating perfume, blinking a few times before realizing it must be from your letter. Geto noticed what he was holding a second too late, but Gojo was already cutting the envelope open and pulling the papers out.
"Wait-"
"It's addressed to me, isn't it?" Gojo teased, standing up and walking over to the sun-lit window to read it.
And the first line in its pretty cursive and swirling letters had him laughing already.
"My dearest Satoru?" He repeated incredulously, glancing back over his shoulder at his very much guilty friend.
"Look," Geto started, dark eyes narrowed as he let out a sigh.
"Is she under the impression I'm the one writing to her?" Honestly, before this moment? He'd never considered what Geto did with any of yours letters after he received them. Perhaps just polite replies?
Nothing that would make you comfortable enough to call him that.
"Yes," Geto curtly answered, his face still stoic, unreadable as Gojo gaped at him.
"Suguru, seriously-" He scoffed, returning to reading the letter once more as he shook his head.
He wasn't sure really what he thought he'd find in it.
Something to laugh at? A few short paragraphs somehow still stammering about something random.
Not your sincere words, asking him questions and inquiring about his health and the last set of reforms he rolled out, as if you were genuinely interested in all of it. Casually writing about something that happened back near your own capitol, dropping names he didn't know and discussing the possibility of adapting similar laws there too.
"She's rather sweet," Geto murmured, standing up and brushing off his uniform as he walked over to snatch the letter back.
Gojo wasn't done reading though.
He scampered away, holding up the letter and squinting at the last paragraph, skimming over it just to freeze. "She's coming here?"
"She is an Empress candidate," Geto bluntly reminded him, his lips pushed together in a tight frown before he tugged the letter free from Gojo's hand.
A handful of women would be showing up this week for him to officially meet, despite knowing half of them for most of his life anyway. People were starting to get impatient with the way he was dragging his feet to the alter, rumors swirling and complaints piling that he hadn't picked a bride. Even internally, the staff was starting to get annoyed picking up the slack from the duties an Empress would typically take care of.
It made sense you'd be included. A princess from an ally kingdom, no matter how impoverished, was still a princess. Trained and molded for the role of a ruler from birth.
How could he pick a bride when no one held his attention? Was it just meant to be a boring business decision for everyone else's benefit but his?
"What? Am I supposed to pretend I'm the one who's been writing to her this whole time?" Gojo groaned, trying to imagine how that would even go.
Perhaps it would be like when you were kids, back when the last time he'd seen you was a fucking decade ago, and you were too shy to stutter out more than a few syllables.
Or maybe you'd changed so much that he wouldn't even recognize you.
"I will inform her myself that it was me," Geto grunted, smoothing out the letter and returning to his desk.
"No, just," Gojo paused, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just let me read over her letters and I'll take care of it."
"I would prefer-"
"It's fine, I can handle it," Gojo insisted.
If he was going to let you down gently, wasn't the least he could do was learn a little about you first?
✧
He still hadn't meant to stay up all night reading the letters Geto had saved.
Sweet couldn't cover it.
You were a mystery book he thought he'd solved just to get proven wrong page after page.
The shy wisp of a worm that would so rarely return has stare had morphed into a bright butterfly, speaking so comfortably in perfume-soaked letters, flower petals you dried added between the pages.
Your prose would go from soft to snarky, telling stories of your home, shaping tales of holidays and the hard months in-between of managing your family's estate and fulfilling the duties expected of you on a tight budget. Barely speaking of yourself, but painting him a picture of the world that surrounded you in pretty stokes, always devoting a page to asking about him, bringing up the details Geto must've given you.
It wasn't polite. It was intimate.
Real and raw in an odd sort of way, more than casual concern or anything close, carrying a weight he was unaccustomed to when you finished a letter off with the wish he'd be in your dreams that night.
And strangest of all?
Gojo found he didn't dislike it. Not one bit.
Rather, a faint flame of regret had been born, small and quiet in the pit of his stomach as he poured over your pretty cursive and wondered if perhaps he should've been the one responding all this time.
It might've been his face your first fallen for, these words were for Geto.
Would you still have replied so often it had been him?
Shared your adoration so ardently? Or would you have gotten sick of his humor? His bluntness and overbearing tendency to kill the joke before he'd finished telling it?
He spent the rest of the week reading them again and again once he retired back to his room, like some strange bedtime story.
He'd fallen asleep with the last one still in hand, the corner crumpled under his grip when he woke the next morning to the harsh sun.
Yawning as he rolled out, the palace in somewhat of a frenzy for today's guests, a commotion he could hear even from upstairs. And honestly?
His heart had worked itself in a frenzy too.
Would you be arriving today too?
What would you say when you saw him? Would you throw your arms around his neck or kiss his cheek?
So what if Geto happened to be the one who wrote you back?
Gojo felt like he knew you too. Knew the names of your family members and what the weather was like back home. Had memorized enough lines, etched the swirls and sweeps of your penmanship into his brain, the way you signed his name and how you dotted and crossed your letters. Studied up on your kingdom in his spare time, shame creeping in that he'd never bothered to before.
He padded across the room barefoot, stretching his long limbs and snagging a silk robe from off his armchair, tying it loosely around his waist before walking out to the balcony.
Carriages were pulled up in front of the open gates, luggage being unloaded onto the maintained path.
And as luck would have it, you were there.
He wasn't sure how he knew, or what even caught his eye, a familiar flash of your hair color, a glimpse of your face, but he knew. And fuck, you were gorgeous.
Pretty in a way he never paid attention to before.
An idiotic idea took shape in the back of his brain.
Who wouldn't be honored to have the Emperor personally come out to greet them?
ᡴꪫ
The palace was precisely how you remembered it.
Sprawling and sun-bathed, all the colors warmer, brighter than the rest of the world. Deep green grass and blossoming flowers lining the paths, vines climbing up the sides of the walls.
"Can you please send my bags ahead to my room? I'd like to look around the garden first," You smiled at the attendant, trying hard not to pick at the nails you'd spent so long painting last night at the inn you'd spent the night at. Bathing and exfoliating, waking up far too early to prepare for today. The first time you'd see your Satoru again.
The attendant curtly nodded, carrying your bags and hurrying up the path, and you wondered what else you might find here.
You weren't delusional enough to think Satoru would actually choose you when there were other more capable options. Women with more wealth and finer families, prettier too.
But he was your friend at least, wasn't he?
And sometimes, some people fell in love with their friends, right?
You walked down the weaving side paths, heading for a fountain you used to toss coins in as a child, wishing for the man you might marry now.
The stone sculpture sitting atop it was weathered, cracked and worn by rain and age, but the water was still a crystalline blue, coins littering the bottom and the sun bounced off the surface. You sat by the edge, fingers skimming over it and sending ripples across.
You didn't have any coins on you today.
What would you have wished for this time?
"Oh? It's bad luck to steal those, you know," A playful voice called out, starting you as your head snapped to the sound of it.
Satoru Gojo in the flesh. And uh, a robe.
Nothing else.
You blinked, blushing at the sight of his broad chest on display, his robe tied low enough you could fucking count his muscles, his hair mused and messed up like he just rolled out of bed, blue eyes still hazy with sleep.
"I wasn't planning on it," You wryly muttered, averting your gaze back to the fountain to stop yourself from staring, suddenly embarrassed. Still, there was a slight sense of familiarity, the way he smiled so easily at you, his knee brushing against your leg when he strolled closer.
"You're not excited to see me, princess?" He teased, plopping down next to you on the edge.
"It has been a while, hasn't it?" You tilted your head to the side, studying his face, the barely-there dimple by his smirk, the thick lashes framing his eyes. They looked ever more beautiful than you remembered, the sky and the reflection from the water reflecting back in them.
"I should apologize for my truly terrible behavior back then," He chuckled, not entirely sorry at all, but confident enough you'd forgive him for it anyway.
He'd never been hated in his life.
Even at his worst, you couldn't crush the feelings that'd sprouted in your heart when you were younger and only bloomed with each letter he'd sent.
"Apologize then," You dared, something about his presence bringing out a boldness in you.
He leaned in a little closer, and you couldn't help the way your eyes flickered down to the soft pink of his lips as they formed the words. "I'm very sorry."
"Okay," You shrugged, feigning far more nonchalance than you felt.
"Do you forgive me?" He pouted, sticking a flower he must've plucked on the way here in your face.
"Did I say that?" You rolled your eyes, grabbing the flower and carefully examining the petals of the bright orange lily. "I suppose you must not know much about flowers."
"They're pretty," He hummed. "Like you."
"This one symbolizes passion," You murmured, picking a petal off and setting it afloat on the water. "Or hatred."
It was bad luck back home.
He laughed, leaning in closer while you picked off another petal, playing a crude game of he-loves-me-not in your own head while he watched.
You were on not when you heard someone approaching.
"Your Imperial Majesty," A cold voice called out, and you both turned to see a shrewd blond man pushing a thin pair of glasses up his nose.
"Nanamin, have you met-" Satoru grinned, slinging a muscled arm over your shoulder.
"You were supposed to meet Mei Mei half an hour ago," The blond man interrupted with a scoff, glaring pointedly at your host.
A flicker of jealousy shot through you, pierced your heart at the reminder you were just one of several women he was meant to entertain in the coming weeks.
"She'll live," Satoru dismissed with his hand, yawning as he shifted, spreading out his long legs like he was content to stay all day.
"Please don't make preferential treatment a problem on the first day," Nanami muttered, exasperated. "Even if the princess was was penpals with your friend."
"Satoru?" You glanced over at him, confusion probably scrawled over your face. But he was just wincing, well-aware of whatever he meant.
"It's not," He hesitated, jaw pulled tight. "I mean-"
The horrifying realization set in, all the hope draining from your body.
"Were you not the one writing to me?" You bluntly asked.
"Well, no, but-" Gojo admitted, and you suddenly felt ill. The breakfast you'd barely been able to get down threatening to make a reappearance, but a hot lump formed in your throat, and you couldn't swallow it. Choking on the idiotic dreams you'd had of him actually coming to like you at all. "I, I read your letters and-"
"I apologize if my letters were an inconvenience on your time," You politely said, switching on your manners before you shouted obscenities at him.
"I read them," He insisted again, as if that made it much better.
"You have a meeting to go to. Don't let me keep you," You coldly replied, holding your head high and tossing the rest of the flower in the fountain. You should find your room anyway, collapse into a real bed to cry in.
"Can we talk for a few moments? I don't want to end-"
"Your Imperial Majesty," You curtly cut him off, brushing off your skirt to stand. "I have no interest in your pity."
"Could you give me a chance?" He stood up after you, but you refused to give him so much as a second glance.
Your letters didn't deserve a reply. Why should he get any answers now?
✧
"What am I supposed to do?" Gojo groaned, head in his hands.
"Leave her alone?" Geto casually suggested, flipping through a newspaper and reclining back in an oversized armchair.
"She refuses to even speak to me at meals, ignores all the gifts I send her, I mean, what girl doesn't like flowers?"
"What do you want me to do?" Geto grunted.
"I dunno," Gojo shrugged, rubbing his eyes. He'd barely been sleeping, rereading your letters and struggling to understand why he was so stuck on whether or not you liked him.
It shouldn't matter.
It shouldn't bother him that you wanted nothing to do with him. It should make his life easier, really, one less person for him to pick from, one less person to disappoint.
Although he didn't really want to pick at all, desperate for another excuse to postpone the whole marriage charade.
"You'll be expected to dance with her at the banquet tomorrow night," Geto dryly muttered, probably just annoyed he'd also have to be in attendance too.
Gojo had been dragging him around everywhere he went, using him as a shield to keep the more forward women somewhat at bay. Most of them could be sorted in two groups. The ones that wanted what was under his clothes. And the ones that wanted what was on his head.
Mei Mei was the worst offender, making crude and cruel jokes disgusting by a glittering smile, always trying to threaten her way into the seat next to him, aiming for his throne next.
Money hungry and greedy in a way that gold still didn't fully suffice. She wanted everything.
Gojo would rather die than slip a ring on her finger, despite her influence on the other court ladies, despite her already substantial wealth and ties to some of the more powerful lords and merchants.
What power was theirs compared to his?
You stayed clear of the rest of the candidates, but Gojo kept dragging you back in to every event planned, your clipped voice and cold exterior only making him try harder to squeeze himself between the cracks in your armor.
Making a fool of himself by convincing the chefs to prepare cuisine from your kingdom just for you to politely decline and shut your bedroom door in his face. Consulting the gardener to get fresh cuttings for a bouquet of all the flowers you'd ever sent him, even rare strains from the conservatory, but you'd only grabbed the bundle before shutting the door on him again. Asking if you'd care to accompany him to tea when you bumped into each other in the hall just for you to decline.
He could probably count the number of real conversations you had on both hands, when you were stuck sitting next to him and he asked question after question, desperate for something he couldn't even name. Forgiveness? Your favor?
You were the most frustrating woman he'd ever met and he couldn't shake the feeling he wanted you to frustrate him for the rest of his life.
Every sharp sentence and pointed glare just dragged him deeper under your spell, pushing his head underwater just by rolling your eyes and scoffing his way, drowning in his own despair and desire.
"You think she'll let me?" Gojo murmured, sitting back down at his desk and pulling a clean sheet of paper from a drawer, snagging a pen.
"Probably not," Geto dismissed, grabbing a book from the shelf and heading for the door, only glancing back once before he pulled it open. "I wouldn't get your hopes up."
Gojo would just have to try anyway.
ᡴꪫ
You hated Satoru Gojo almost as much as you used to love him.
He was nothing like the letters. Not suave or smooth, no words layered with hidden meanings for you to unravel and savor. He didn't say all the right words or know what would soothe your hurt. In fact, everything he said was wrong.
Abrasive, blunt, cheeky, you could probably assign an adjective for every letter of the alphabet to him and still not run out of words. Even worse?
He was cute - in the most annoying way.
His persistence in persuing pestering you had started to grow on you, more like a mold than a flower. But still, you'd found yourself searching for him in the corner of every room, waiting for him to show up and slide into the seat next to you.
Asking an absurd amount of questions, always pinning his focus precisely on you like there'd be a quiz on your answers.
Every time you'd get close to having fun, you'd remember what you'd forgotten.
He could've asked you any of it in a letter.
So yeah, you loathed those pretty blue eyes that haunted your dreams, glittering and gleaming with freedom you'd never have. You could feel them on you even now, skimming over you with silent appraisal. Judging if you were up to his standards.
You hadn't been before, had you?
He had never bothered to put a pen to paper to personally write you back until now, a single sheet slipped under your door while you were getting ready for this insufferable banquet.
Save me a dance? - S
Was that the most he could muster?
You were such a fucking idiot for thinking someone like him would ever fall for someone like you.
"Mind if I join you?" A honeyed voice snapped your attention away from this evening's third glass of wine.
"Why not?" You shrugged your shoulders, glancing over to find the dark-haired man Gojo was usually with.
Was there something in the water here?
He was nearly as handsome as Gojo, just in a different way, his features sharper, more sweeping, his intense stare warm to disguise how calculating it really was, pretty lips curled up in a deceptively kind smile.
Still, your recognized him from the long hair alone. He was a Duke, a knight too if you recalled correctly, but really, it was his association with Gojo that had you so wary.
"I'm Suguru Geto," He introduced himself anyway, his eyes flickering down to your hand as he waited for you to offer it to him.
"I'm aware," You forced a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room for some other empty corner to slink off too. Gojo was watching both of you, probably displeased that his friend was infringing on his favorite joke? Pastime?
You weren't positive what box Gojo had put you in.
But then Geto grabbed your hand anyway, gracefully bending down to kiss the back of it. Sturdy fingers pressing into your palm and soft lips on your skin as your cheeks flushed with heat.
"Is it alright if I confess I know you too?" You froze, still staring down at the gorgeous man holding your hand and grazing his lips over your skin, the rest of the room forgotten.
"You do?" You breathed, too unsure to even move.
"I was the one replying to your letters," He admitted, and the flicker in his eyes held a fire you'd never seen directed at you.
"Oh?" Your voice pitched a little too high, sounding more like a squeak than seductive.
He chuckled, standing up straight but not letting go of your hand. He stepped closer, and you noticed how tall he was, probably the same height as Gojo, hovering over you all broad and strong, his frame well-built from years of training.
His stare was too intense to meet, your eyes flickering away just to notice a white-hot glare directed your way. Or, well, his way.
Gojo's stare was glued to the two of you, obviously jealous and jaded in a way you hadn't conceived he might be capable of. A thrill ran up your spine, sucking in a shallow inhale as Geto's other hand found your waist.
"Would you care for a dance?"
✧
Gojo was seething in silence.
He knew he was staring, he knew other people were probably staring at him. But he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from you.
You looked almost ethereal, makeup and hair carefully styled by the maids he'd sent over, subtle and soft and glowing. You were wearing a gown he'd custom ordered last minute, a pretty shade of silver that was supposed to match the medals and pins adorning his own outfit. Meant to be a pair.
And yet, there you were, being swept off your feet by Geto, his hands on your waist and yours crossed around his neck. Grinning at something he was saying, having fun.
Jealousy tasted worse than he ever imagined.
Acidic and sour, unable to focus on the conversation surrounding him, too absorbed in the way your face lit up when you laughed.
He was approaching before the song even ended, pawning his drink off to a passing waiter, the crowd naturally parting for him until he approached you and your dance partner.
"I trust you're having fun?" Gojo greeted, putting on his best smile to hide the fact he was fuming inside. Geto's hand lingered on your back, just a little too low to be proper and polite.
"If I say yes, will you return to your harem?" Your smile was barbed with thorns, hurt and humiliation still burning under its surface.
"I'm a one-woman man," He protested with a pout. And sure, he had a bit of an, um, unsavory reputation for being a flirt, but he was technically still a virgin.
Having sex when just a single slip-up could carry repercussions for the rest of his reign was a bit of a turn-off.
"Oh, I'm sure you're much too busy to entertain women when you have someone else handling your matters for you," You coolly replied.
"Would you allow me to apologize to you properly then? Over a dance?" He asked, trying to ignore the way Geto stiffened, his fingers digging a little harder into your side. "Just one and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."
"Fine," You relented, glancing up at Geto with a look he wished you'd give him instead. "Perhaps we can finish this conversation afterwards?"
"Of course, Your Highness," Geto murmured, clearly teasing judging by the way your lips curled up in a smile at the cheek tone he used your title.
Taking his place by your side, Gojo pulled you close, a hand on the your back as you reluctantly slipped your much smaller hander in his, wishing you weren't wearing gloves so he could feel the warmth of your palm.
You matched his steps, your focus always just past him, refusing to meet his eyes as he lead you through the dance.
"Sincerely, I am sorry, I should've just replied to your letters myself," He murmured, hoping you could hear it in his voice that he meant it. "I don't have an excuse."
"I shouldn't have expected you to write me back, I suppose," You sighed, swallowing hard.
"No, it's my fault," Gojo admitted. Sure, Geto usually read through his letters and decided what to pass on to him anyway, but still, he'd seen your name, had made the decision himself to let Geto take care of it.
"Am I supposed to beg to be your bride now that you've graced me with an apology?" You wryly said, and the way your lips curled up in the faintest smirk when you mocked him made his heart stall in his chest.
How was he supposed to say he was starting to consider begging you to be his bride?
"I wouldn't be entirely opposed," He tried to joke back just for you to stomp on his foot. It was worth the pain to see you smile.
"Oops," You shrugged, and he just squeezed your hand, pulling you in closer by your back before dipping you down low.
And fuck, he wished he could capture the enthralling expression on your face forever.
The way your lips parted in a surprised gasp, your eyes going wide and lashes fluttering while he held you. It felt like someone had knocked all the air out of his chest, unable to catch his breath when you looked at him like that.
"Mind if I cut in?" Mei Mei purred, grabbing his arm before Gojo had even brought you back up to your feet.
"Be my guest," You murmured, a little dazed as your gaze flickered from him to her. Resigned.
"Wait a moment," Gojo started, spit looking in the back of his mouth.
"Have a good night, Your Imperial Majesty."
"The song's not over yet," He pleaded, a hint of panic seeping in at the last few seconds he'd get to spend in your company this evening. Geto was watching with a drink in hand, an annoying smirk curled up on his lips. A snake waiting to strike.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
✧
Would it be so bad for him to behead a bitch?
She just wouldn't stop talking, and that was coming from him.
"I really must return," Gojo interrupted her story, glancing around the deserted part of the garden Mei Mei had dragged him to. The moon was hanging high overhead, stars dusting the sky, thin clouds threatening to cover them up.
It was dull, really.
You were prettier.
Was this what falling in love felt like?
Finding you in the stars and in the flowers, a song that never left his head and made his heart ache, your laugh a melody stuck on loop in his mind.
"Is that so?" Mei Mei hummed, unamused.
He blinked, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. But she didn't leave.
"Has your mind already been made then? On our next Empress?" She slyly asked. Not on his bride, or his wife. Just who would get the title.
"Excuse me?" Gojo still feigned innocence.
"It's obvious who has your favor," Mei Mei simply said, a razored edge to her voice.
"I haven't made my decision," He shrugged, like it wasn't just because he was pretty sure you'd say no if he asked. His time was running out though, only a few days left until he was expected to make an announcement or extend everyone's stay.
"Well, I suggest you reconsider," Mei Mei chided, barely even bothering to disguise her threat. She disappeared down a path, not stomping, but clearly displeased.
Gojo ignored her, folding his arms and watching a cloud drift by lazily above, wispy but just enough to conceal the moon anyway.
Would you still be inside? Or had you slipped back to your room at the first opportunity?
He was planning on keeping his promise to you, but he'd prefer it if you stayed even if he could only stare from afar.
And would it be completely delusional to believe tonight was progress?
He glanced back up at the stars, thanking them silently for sending that headache of a woman away when he heard it.
Your laugh.
His head whipped around, searching before he spotted you. With Geto.
You were leaning back against the railing of a nearby balcony overhead, giggling at something he was saying to you, head tilted to the side as you nodded along.
Gojo wasn't really thinking, brain unfortunately utterly blank as he stepped closer.
"Does your silver tongue typically work on women?" You were teasing Geto.
"I've never tried," Geto purred back. Liar.
"Oh?" You didn't believe him either.
"Is it working on you?" He inquired, and Gojo wanted to shout or scream to stop the seconds from slipping by and your heart slipping away with them when he saw the smile on your face, the subtle way your stare drifted over his friend before you shrugged.
He wasn't sure how it happened, only catching Geto's mouth moving before your own parted, surprised and unsure before you hesitantly nodded. Then Geto was leaning in for a kiss, a calloused hand cupping your face and adjusting it just slightly so he could kiss you how he liked.
You kissed him back.
Gojo knew he should leave.
Pretend he hadn't seen a second of your private exchange.
But just as quickly as his lips were pressed to yours, they were ghosting down your throat, leaving a trail of delicate pecks as Geto's other hand hiked up your dress.
Getting down on his knees and holding your hips steady while he left love bites across your thighs, sharp teeth sinking into your soft flesh.
But Gojo's gaze had already shifted back to your face, the way you leaned your head back as your fingers sifted though his silky strands of black hair, tugging Geto closer when two of his own fingers hooked over the thin band of your pretty lace panties.
He almost wondered if Geto had anticipated an audience, set the stage with you as an unwitting performer, your eyes fluttering closed and a gorgeous gasp escaping when he did, in fact, prove just how effective his tongue could be.
Gojo dismissed the thought, dissolving back into the shadows as he forced himself to follow the nearest cobbled path as far away from this evening's show as possible.
It felt like a declaration of a cold war.
Who was Gojo to turn down a challenge?
✧
Conceiving a new strategy was harder than he thought.
He's stayed up half the night creating plans just to crumple up the paper and toss it in the trash.
You were cold and considerate and could probably break his heart in a million different ways, but he was tempted to just glue it back together for you to break again.
Eventually, he'd requested for Geto to come to his room the next morning, halfway debating dropping hints that he'd seen his risque rendezvous before deciding to just pretend he was oblivious to whatever was brewing between the two of you.
"You called?" Geto murmured.
Gojo fixed his own shirt collar and noted his friend's reflection in the mirror, the long, dark hair tied off his neck in a low ponytail, bangs sticking to his forehead and uniform wrinkled from wear.
"Would you mind arranging breakfast with her?" He heard himself ask, knowing he didn't need to specify who and studying Geto's expression in the mirror, the drop of hostility that disappeared just as quickly as it flashed over his face. "In the conservatory?"
"I'll go by her room and request she join you," He nodded, a sharp jerk of his head. Sweat was still sticking his bangs to his forehead, worn from an early-morning training session Gojo had missed.
Geto left before Gojo could ask for anything else.
Was it jealousy?
Did he just not want Geto to take something he thought was his?
He almost wished it was, almost wished he could pin the blame and point a finger at some shitty side of himself for the growing feelings stirring in his chest.
It was need.
The pathetic kind that festered on his denial, that grew more the harder he fought it.
He'd been handed everything his whole life, and you were the first he was painfully aware he'd never deserve.
He had a chance and fucked it up.
You weren't exactly the most forgiving type.
Wouldn't bend to his will or beg him for affection. And for some bizarre reason, it just made him crave yours all the more.
He had a feeling even if you did show him an ounce of it, if he was actually lucky enough to be showered in your adoration, he'd be still chasing you for more until he was bones, buried somewhere and probably bound to follow you even into the next life.
Gojo found himself double and triple checking the plates and utensils in the conservatory, rearranging the placemats and adjusting muffins on trays to stop himself from anxiously glancing over to the entrance every five seconds.
Did you decline?
Feign an illness or fake an accident just to avoid him more?
When the doors finally opened, it wasn't you. It wasn't even Geto.
A panicked cluster of his staff and a few guards, hurrying over to him with nervous expressions. He spotted Nanami amidst all the chaos, a deep crease between his brows as he bypassed the rest of his companions.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Nanami coldly greeted with a small bow. "There seems to be an issue."
"What kind?" Gojo was grinding his teeth, icy dread seeping into his blood, veins freezing over while he examined the panic in everyone's eyes.
"It seems the princess is not in her room this morning," Nanami bluntly said.
"Or in the palace," One of the guards nervously added.
"I don't understand," He simply said. "Where is she?"
"W-we're not sure, Your Imperial Majesty, we've searched and-"
"Search again," Gojo commanded.
You couldn't be missing. You promised him. Okay, perhaps not promise. But you said you'd see him tomorrow. And it was tomorrow. You were probably curled up in a hidden nook of the library, or perhaps taking an early morning nap in some unused corner of the garden. Fuck, he'd even rather you be sleeping in under Geto's sheets than just gone.
They just weren't searching hard enough, right?
ᡴꪫ
The rest of the world was dark.
You tried to move, but your hands were tied behind your back, ankles ensnared together and after a few panicked seconds, you realized that there must be some kind of blindfold covering your eyes too.
The harder you tried to wiggle out, the tighter the bindings felt, and a fresh wave of terror immobilized you. If you screamed, would someone here and come to save you? Or would it bring whoever kidnapped you back?
Fear for the latter forced you to freeze, only subtly feeling around for anything nearby once you realized you were laying on your side on something soft. You tried to roll over, but you only dropped down to land on the cold wooden floor of what you guessed was a cabin, hitting your cheek hard on the solid ground.
Your memory was hazy. There was the banquet, dancing with Gojo before Geto walked you back to your room and dragged you out to the balcony. His hands on your body and his warm mouth dancing over your skin. But he'd kissed your forehead good night after it was over, suggesting you sleep well before and leaving while the moon was still high. Afterwards, you vaguely recalled getting ready for bed, changing and drinking a cup of tea before last night? Two nights ago?
It wasn't like you had any way to know how much time had passed.
You were a unfortunately starving though, throat parched and lips cracked.
Would anyone bother looking for you?
Satoru was probably busy picking his future bride, a position you'd been a fool to think you could ever fill. You barely knew Suguru, despite the letters and the longing you'd felt in his stare. Not nearly enough to come to your rescue and risk himself.
If it was about a ransom, your family wouldn't pay it.
Winter would be there soon, and feeding the mouths of many were more important than the life of one. You weren't an exception.
You didn't know how long you laid there, listening out for the slightest sounds and trying to make judgments of where you could be and why they'd even bother taking you.
"Should we feed her?" A guy grumbled, his voice muffled and hardly audible, separated by at least a wall.
"No," A woman's huff, haughty and irritated.
"But what if-"
"He's going to make the announcement tonight. He can't delay it any longer," She condescendingly scolded, and the voice clicked. One of the other candidates. Mei Mei. Just another misfortune in your life with Gojo to blame at the helm. "We'll let her go afterwards."
"A-alright," The guy probably responsible for guarding you grunted.
"Just dump her somewhere she'll be found after midnight," Mei Mei instructed, and then there was the sound of heels clicking, a neigh of a horse in the distance, a carriage probably waiting to return her to the palace.
They wouldn't bother investigating if you were recovered safely after all. No point wasting resources on a poor princess who'd be leaving without a ring soon.
Just so Mei Mei could claim her new crown.
A burning stake of indignation stabbed through you. She'd gone through the trouble of kidnapping you for what? As if Gojo would've ever actually chosen you.
All you'd shared was a handful of awkward conversations and a slow dance.
You couldn't decide what you thought of this current hin. His easy smiles and burning eyes. The way he wore everything he felt on his face when he was around you, like he was just as conflicted as you.
Who was he really? A spoiled man who thought a sorry could did everything? Or was there sincerely in those pink lips?
You supposed it didn't matter.
He wouldn't come for you.
✧
"I'm not announcing shit," Gojo growled, ripping up the fourth letter slid under the crack in his door in the past thirty minutes from impatient advisors and worried maids about whether or not they needed to set up the ceremony hall.
"It's unfortunate, but-"
"Unfortunate?" He scoffed, interrupting Geto mid-sentence. "She's clearly been kidnapped."
"And she'll be returned," Geto calmly explained. "It has to be someone associated with one of the other candidates. Mei Mei would be my guess."
"So let's arrest her," Gojo whined, boots squeaking as he paced the floor.
It'd been three days.
Three long days of looking everywhere, organizing searches and setting up shifts to find you. Rumors had started to spread that perhaps you'd run away, hiding somewhere and pretending to be a peasant just so you didn't have to marry him.
Gojo refused to believe that. Not when there was the slightest sliver of a possibility you needed his help somewhere.
"What if she decides to get rid of the evidence then?" Geto argued, attempting to be the voice of reason while Gojo's panic ran free.
Would Mei Mei get rid of you?
She was clearly fucking crazy enough to kidnap you.
"What do you suggest then?" Gojo grunted, struggling to reign himself in, to keep himself collected enough to have the same objectivity.
"Proceed with the announcement as planned," Geto murmured. "They'll probably leave her for us to find at some village or town close to wherever they're hiding her at. Just pretend you don't know anything and we can arrest Mei Mei for her part in it once we have proof."
Gojo guessed it made sense if Geto's suspicions about their motives were correct. It would give him a reason to re-do this whole fucked up charade of choosing a wife. Give him a second chance to prove he was going to pick you. To convince you he cared.
He still felt absolutely useless now though.
What good was power if he couldn't use it to keep even just one person safe?
"What if they don't?" His strong shell was cracking, broken bits and jagged edges revealed with every frustrated word.
"I'll keep looking for her anyway," Geto reassured.
It didn't make him feel better.
It was stupid and selfish, but Gojo wanted to be your hero for once, play the knight who swept in at the last minute to save you from someone evil. Show that he could love you too - if you just let him.
"Go look," Gojo muttered, running his fingers through his hair and swallowing hard, the regret growing roots in his guts already.
He might not be the man of your dreams today.
But he was a better one than yesterday. Learning to be the kind of guy who'd let someone else take the spotlight if it meant you'd be safe.
To know you're okay.
And maybe?
He still had a chance to be yours someday.
ᡴꪫ
You never actually expected to be rescued.
Or, at least, you hoped that's what the commotion was outside. Swords clanging and the gross sound of squelching through the door before it swung open with a creak, banging into the wall as the floorboards groaned.
You flinched and something sharp grazed against your skin. But then you felt warmth, a large hand grabbing your arm before you heard him.
"Stay still for me," Geto murmured, holding you in place while he cut off all your bindings. You tried not to move, relief flooding through you once all your limbs were once again free, and he tugged the blindfold off.
It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light, blinking as he helped you to your feet just for them to collapse from underneath you. He hurried to remove his cloak, covering up your torn and tattered nightdress with it with a quiet chuckle, picking you up and cradling you against his warm body once he sheathed his blood-stained sword.
"Sorry it took so long," He hm-ed, his voice honey in your eyes, soothing over your injuries and soaking into your skin.
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing would come out, your throat too sore to form words. He pulled out a leather waterskin with his free hand, unscrewing the top and bringing it to your lips.
You only managed a few short sips, just enough to dull the ache before he brought it back down to his belt.
There were other voices, men you couldn't see, talking amongst themselves, fellow knights you guessed. Your heart felt a little strange at the thought Gojo had actually sent more than one person to search for you - that he hadn't just given up.
Or was it all Geto's doing?
"We have to head back now," He murmured, brushing your hair away from your face with a soft sigh. "We're running a little late."
Late for what, exactly?
"No," You managed, shaking your head and clinging to his shirt harder. What would await you there next? Being dragged to the altar? Or forced to watch Gojo announce he belonged to someone else?
"No?" Geto echoed, amusement reflecting in his dark eyes.
"Can't we go somewhere else?" You croaked, voice cracking every couple words. "Your estate?"
Would that be considered a scandal? One of the Empress candidates ditching Gojo for a Duke instead?
You wanted to believe that maybe that wouldn't be so bad. You'd be safe. Secure.
He wouldn't make your stomach flip or your heart ache. Wouldn't weigh on your soul the way Gojo did, wouldn't claw his way into each waking thought no matter how many times you scratched him out.
A quiet love that grew over time. One you could live with.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Geto slyly said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I'll take care of you."
✧
"I'm glad you came to your senses."
Gojo was just glad he'd be able to throw Mei Mei in a cell and toss the key down a drain in two hours.
But first?
He just had to make it through this fake announcement, plastering on a polite smile and put on a show in front of his people to promise he'd found their next Empress.
Even if standing next to someone who made him sick.
Mei Mei kept edging closer, leaning down to probably murmur another mocking assessment of the situation before the wide double doors swung open to the ceremony hall, whispering and gasps erupting from the crowd as everyone turned around.
Seeing you in Geto's arms with another woman clinging to his was a kind of cruelty Gojo had never known.
The way your cheek was pressed against Geto's chest, fingers holding onto his shirt like he was your savior made Gojo's breath hitch in his throat. He was halfway down the first steps when his fake bride-to-be grabbed his sleeve to stop him.
Your wrists were raw, you lips parched, a bruise on your cheek making it apparent to anyone with eyes you hadn't just run away. A cloak draped over you like you were in something indecent under it, hopefully just a nightgown instead of something worse.
"Are you ok-"
"Don't come closer," Geto called out, and there was the soft clink of someone reading for their sword. It wasn't him, but the guards by his side.
"What?" Gojo almost laughed, blinking hard like he was waiting to get the joke.
He was flanked before Geto even got to the punchline.
"You're under arrest for treason," He coldly answered, and Gojo was too stunned to put up a fight when they put him in heavy iron cuffs.
How the fuck could he commit treason?
He was the emperor, the sun and the stars and the sky. He supposed he'd failed to consider it meant little if he didn't have support, if the pillars upholding him crumbled and cracked.
The sky had fallen. His luck has run dry.
"For the murder of your father, the previous Emperor, as well as-" Geto listed names like a death sentence, family members he'd never spared a second thought for when they passed, all accidents or early illnesses he hadn't even considered suspicious.
His most trusted advisor, his closest friend, was fucking framing him.
Had he been set up from to start?
Chained up like some animal while Geto delivered the charges stony-faced with you clutching his clothes and watching the scene unfold. Mei Mei was being cuffed too behind him, read off her own offenses for orchestrating your kidnapping. Or had that been apart of Geto's plan too?
This wasn't a mistake or misunderstanding.
This was a coup.
Judging by the hurt in your eyes, the pretty part of your lips as you stared at him in disbelief, you were just as confused and clueless as him.
He'd forgotten happy endings were typically reserved for children reading fairytales.
He wasn't prince charming. Wasn't the guy who got the girl.
Was it even destiny or was Gojo was just damned to be the villain in your story.
ᡴꪫ
Something was wrong.
A certain heaviness in the air, the strained looks cast your way every time Suguru took you somewhere new, a bakery to buy you fresh pastries or the seamstress designing your wedding gown. Somber and grim, like they knew a secret you didn't.
Gojo had ruled with strength, sincerity.
People were just scared of Suguru.
You supposed your rushed marriage was a sign in itself, the diamond on your finger a collar of a different size. Getting married in a month was fast even by royal standards.
But Suguru insisted. It was important to seal the union between your family's kingdom and the already oversized empire he'd stolen from under Gojo's nose.
Stolen wasn't the correct word, you guessed.
But that's what it felt like, didn't it?
Blindsided and burned by his most trusted ally and dragged to the dungeon to wait for a trial that kept getting delayed.
The accusations were hard to accept.
The idea that the same guy who showed up to your door with big bouquets and offered to share his dessert with you during meals, asking approximately a hundred times if everything was to your taste, desperate for the smallest bit of approval could also be a stone-cold murderer? Serial killer if what Suguru was saying was true?
You couldn't picture him poisoning his own father.
Setting up hunting accidents or pushing someone off a high ledge.
But what else were you supposed to believe when Suguru had suggested marriage just two days after they locked Gojo up? Swearing it was for the stability and safety of both of your people. Promising that he'd loved you long before he met you. That somewhere in between all those letters he'd been longing for you all this time.
But the weeks had only brought growing unease about the entire situation, walking into hushed conversations and asking questions just to get shut up with firm kisses and a hand up your dress.
So you kept your suspicions to yourself.
Let him show you off and concealed your thoughts in your letters back home to a family whose only replies concerned how your future would benefit theirs.
"You're distracted," Suguru commented, peppering kisses across your collarbone while you stared at the window of what you supposed was previously Gojo's office.
"Just a little strange, I guess, everything moving so quickly," You absentmindedly replied, gasping when his canines scraped suddenly against the thin skin over your tendons.
"It'll settle down soon," He reassured, the hand on your back pulling you closer, readjusting your position on his lap.
You just weren't sure if you'd like what you'd find after the dust settled.
Someone knocked.
Quick and quiet, waiting for Suguru to call back out before coming in. You recognized the man, Nanami, the same one from the first day you arrived, but the most you'd seen him since was nose-deep in paperwork, always someplace to be and something to do.
"My apologies for interrupting," He stoically delivered the words, deliberately avoiding addressing Suguru since his title had yet to be changed.
The coronation wasn't scheduled until after your marriage.
"It's fine," Suguru murmured, dismissively waving his other hand while the other discreetly slipped lower down to your thigh.
"Do you have the documentation and ledgers for the trial?" Nanami asked, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses off on his clean and tidy shirt, pushing them back up his nose with a bored expression.
"Sure," Suguru muttered, pulling out a drawer to grab a short stack of papers, all bearing the same name.
Satoru Gojo.
"Evidence of him purchasing the herbs he used on his father," Suguru tsk-ed, sliding them across the desk to Nanami.
Your stomach churned. There was just one small problem.
The signature was one you recognized well. You spent years memorizing it after all.
So you could say for certain it didn't match the only note the real Satoru Gojo had ever left you.
ᡴꪫ
The dungeon was cold, the stone floor freezing as you hurried to pad over as silently as you could to the cell at the end. You guessed you only had about five minutes before the guards would return from the change in rotation.
Iron-wrought bars stretched from the floor to the ceiling, only a small window allowing a sliver of moonlight in, a cruel reminder of the outside he couldn't reach.
This was an awful idea.
One you might even be risking your life for.
But wasn't Gojo's on the line already?
"Am I lucky enough to get a good night kiss, angel? Or is it goodbye?" Gojo wryly teased once he saw you through the dark, his sense of humor unfortunately still in tact. It was bitter, the sound of a man that'd been betrayed.
"Quiet," You hissed, glancing over your shoulder down the corridor. "I'm not supposed to be here."
Suguru might be looking for you already.
You'd excused yourself from dinner early, feigning a headache and pretending to sleep through the three different maids periodically peeking in to check on you before you guessed he believed you really did feel ill. But who knows if he'd still send another? Suguru was the only person more paranoid than you.
It was getting increasingly more difficult to act normal around him. What if you were apart of some plan or next on his list?
He clearly had no problems deceiving you.
Honestly, the longer you thought about it, the more you found wrong with him. How he'd taken over Gojo's life so seamlessly. How convenient it was for him to find you right on time to make his grand entrance. How rumors had started spreading that he'd taken Mei Mei's tongue just so she couldn't even confirm if he had any part in the scheme.
"Yeah?" Gojo chuckled, softer now, pushing off the grimy ground to stand, his hands still cuffed and a heavy collar around his throat chained to the wall. Not even afforded the smallest freedom here. They knew he wasn't going to escape. It was about humiliating him. Shrinking him down to some humble size. He managed to take a few steps closer, stopping just short of the bars between you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company then?"
"Are they feeding you?" You whispered.
"Occasionally."
You tugged out the loaf hidden inside your cloak, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you hesitantly stuck your hand through the slats, stretching your arm so the tip was grazing against his lips. You had to sneak into the kitchen to steal it, a few candies you'd been saving also tucked into your pocket.
"You must be hungry then," You mumbled, refusing to meet his eye as he took the first few nibbles.
"Why'd you come?" He grunted through hungry bites, and you could feel the way those brilliant eyes sized you up, refusing to dull even after who knows how long without food.
They were treating him like a feral mutt, something that'd snap his jaws around your throat if released. But he looked more like a puppy like this, tilting his head the side and eating out of your hand. If only his collar was lined with gems instead of made from heavy metal.
"You didn't do any of it, did you?" You asked, even if just forming the words felt like a betrayal to Suguru.
"My only crime was trusting my, ah, your friend," He corrected himself with a huff, like his attitude could hide how much he was hurting. Bruises littered his face, his fancy outfit filthy. "Or is he your fiancé now?"
You didn't answer, but his eyes flickered down the the engagement ring perched on your finger.
He made a noise, half a grunt and half a laugh.
"Of course."
"I don't think I have much choice in the matter," You excused. You hadn't wanted to believe that at first, but the past couple days had you considering how much of your control was just a carefully crafted illusion.
What would Suguru have done if you said no to him? If you insisted on going back home?
You swallowed hard, meeting Gojo's sharp stare, squinting at you with more sadness than suspicion.
"You should leave," He finally said, as if he was telling you to take the last life jacket on a sinking ship. Trying to convince you to save yourself.
"I have a duty," You murmured, unsure of what it even meant anymore. Raised to rule correctly, to be just and fair in all matters. To put everyone else before yourself.
It wasn't a risk of Suguru retaliating if he discovered your deception - it would be a reality. For all you knew, you could be locked up right next to Gojo just for being here.
But for some stupid reason, you just couldn't let this go.
Couldn't stay silent while Suguru condemned him to death or a miserable life locked in a cage.
"You don't. Not to me," Gojo frowned, ignoring the rest of the bread. Freeing you from the burden of his fate. "So go. Get as far away from him as possible."
You wished you could.
"I'm going to get you out of here," You promised, hating yourself for giving him hope you were hardly confident in. You tucked the bread back under your arm, snagging one of the sweet candies from your pocket and unwrapping the shiny gold paper.
"I won't hold you to that," He chuckled, his voice raspy.
The man you thought he was didn't exist anymore. Maybe never had.
Even here, he was hellbent on making you second guess and get stuck on every word that left his lips.
So you pressed the candy to them instead and they partied for you naturally, letting you place the drop on his tongue. His lips were probably soft before, now cracked as they grazed over your fingertips.
Funny how it felt like a kiss.
Funnier how you were thinking about it still sneaking back into bed an hour later, carefully hanging your coat back up and hiding the last of the bread to discard later.
You had to come up with an excuse to scribble on a note to Suguru the next morning, claiming to need a few final addresses for wedding invitations to approach the one man you suspected could assist you.
He certainly hadn't expected you, the only evidence you had hidden in your dress when you stepped into his office.
"I need your help."
✧
Your promise lingered in his brain like the taste of candy on his tongue.
Really, you owed him nothing. No kindness. No assistance.
You were risking everything. Your kingdom, your chance at being Empress, even your own life just to help him.
The fact you didn't expect anything from him made it worse.
No debt you wanted him to owe or reward to be received.
Was that what the duty you spoke of was? To do the right thing at the cost of yourself? Why were you so willing to pay it?
Waiting in the dark and the grime with no distractions. His only company the guard dropping by once in the morning to release his cuffs and offer his lone meal for the day and the second one in the evenings coming back to bind his hands again.
They never removed the collar.
All the old wounds of people passing ripped open again. The harsh truth of being left and only that had scarred over his heart split open and needing new stitches.
He understood why Geto did it. For the power. The control. Having the world at his whim and word.
Gojo just didn't understand how he could do it to him.
Geto had helped him plan the funerals, easing the burden and bringing him food when he forgot to eat, promising to handle the paperwork and take some of the pressure off of him. Knowing damn well what really happened.
Now he was mourning all the lives lost - including his own.
The pale light from the window cut into the stone to mark the passage of time, but it only reminded him of his miserable conditions more.
The barren cot and blank walls, the toilet in the corner for him to use. Nothing to compare to his lavish bedroom just a few floors away.
Was Geto using the suite now? Taking you to his bed, your plush thighs pushed to your chest and your dress discarded on the thick rug or wooden floor somewhere? Hair splayed out across the silk sheets as your head tilted back on his pillows, letting out some lewd moan?
God, he'd rather just get executed now if that was the case.
Days passed without your return, occupied only by the thought of your face, the way you smiled at him, just that once, the crinkle by your eyes when you laughed after you stepped on his toes.
Another morning had come.
Today's guard was particularly smug, a crude grin on his scarred face when he barked orders at him to turn around so he could remove his cuffs.
Except, the second the heavy weight fell away, his left ring finger was grabbed, and in two short seconds crushed, a sick snap echoing in the small chamber. A gutteral sound escaped Gojo, strangled and pained.
"Big day," The guard mocked, letting go and walking away without another word.
For a second, he wondered if this was it. If they had bypassed a trial entirely and he'd been sentenced to his death without a second thought. But then he looked down at his hand, clutching his broken finger as he bitterly realized what the brute was hinting at.
He didn't want to believe it.
But the movement over his head, the busy bodies and voices filtering through the ceiling from the floor only reinforced the idea.
A royal wedding.
Geto was going to marry you.
Take his place in every way possible.
Tighten your leash too, pin your fate to his to prevent you from coming to Gojo's rescue.
The hope he'd been holding onto had faded, only left with the heartache of knowing he was stuck. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go.
Trapped in a stone tomb.
He wasn't sure how long he stood. Lead limbed and broken in more places he could count. But the ache in his heart was all you.
Trying to imagine what how you felt. If you were wearing a white dress. How a tiara would look sitting pretty nestled on top of your hair. Or maybe a custom crown made to match the one he used to wear.
If he was granted a final wish, he hoped it'd be your forgiveness, or maybe that goodbye kiss.
Footsteps approached, and he wondered if the guard had come back to break another finger. And honestly, he was thinking about just letting him if it meant his mind would be torn away from thinking about you.
But the man in front of him removed his polished silver helmet to reveal the last person he expected.
Who would've guessed Nanami would be his knight in shining armor?
"Shut up," The blond preemptively scoffed before Gojo could get a joke out, key in hand as he hurried to unlock the heavy door, careful to push it open slowly so it wouldn't creak.
"Where is she?" Gojo hoarsely asked, throat sore and aching from the limited water he'd been living on lately.
"Getting married," Nanami muttered, brows drawn together in a deep scowl as he flipped through his keys for the right one to unlock the collar around Gojo's throat, the skin rough and raw when he finally yanked it off.
"Over my dead body," Gojo gritted his teeth, as Nanami removed his armor as quickly as possible, passing him pieces for him to quickly get dressed in. A clever disguise to get out of here unnoticed.
"Geto would certainly prefer that," Nanami sarcastically sighed as Gojo tugged on the silver helmet at the end.
"What's the plan?" Gojo asked, out-of-breath already, his body not used to the exertion.
"Remind the people who their real emperor is," His former secretary tsk-ed, as if it should be obvious to him. "I'll handle the proof."
Sneaking out was easier than he expected, the guard that was supposed to on-duty passed out drunk when they walked by. Gojo guessed Nanami had somehow slipped sleeping pills in his bottle.
Gojo stole his sword and sheath as he stepped over him.
His finger ached, swelling up under his glove. But he gripped the handle tighter, refusing to switch it to the other hand if not for his own proof of the pain Geto so casually inflicted.
He only sheathed it after Nanami brought up it might blow their cover.
Nanami led him through corridors he hadn't even been in before, back hallways that connected and bypassed the heavily-traveled ones, but the chatter kept growing closer as they approached the ceremony hall.
Were you already in there? Had you walked down the aisle? Was Geto's hand in yours just waiting for you to say your vows? To bind your soul to his?
"Can you walk faster?" Gojo impatiently huffed, jaw clenched.
What if they didn't make it in time?
What if-?
They made it to the an open door, Nanami giving the guard by the side entrance a curt nod as they found a gap just big enough in the knight's scattered formation for them not to stand out.
The priest was going on a long drone about commitment, consideration, the connection between hearts in love. Gojo wasn't sure if Geto even had a heart anymore.
His sharp blue eyes focused on you, drowning in your wedding dress, the corset cinched too tight on purpose to push your chest up, the skirt a ridiculous pouf of fabric below the waist, covered in a shimmery fabric that glittered every time you moved.
Something to distract the crowd from noticing your face, your forced smile painted pink and the eyeliner and mascara smudged around your tear line like you'd been crying.
You were still the most beautiful bride he'd ever seen, his chest straining and heart jumping into his throat to choke up his breathing.
"If anyone objects to this union, speak-"
"I object," Gojo stepped forward without a second thought, his focus solely on you, watching your eyes widen the second they met his.
"Satoru," You breathed his name, shaky and sincere and hopeful.
"How the fuck is he here?" Geto hissed to the closet knight, stepping in front of you to block your body from his sight.
You pulled away from him, trying to rush past him but his arm caught you by your waist, pulling you back into his chest. Gojo was moving forward on instinct, panic surging through him at the sight of Geto putting his hands on you, only hesitating to draw the sword in case he might hurt you. But you hurt Geto first, elbowing him just hard enough to catch him by surprise and slipping away before he could catch you again.
Your heels were giving you trouble, nearly stumbling as you tried to slip between the confused crowd, already whispering between themselves as the slow realization started to set in at who was under the helmet.
Gojo met you halfway, a hand protectively pulling you up, but you were clinging to his armor the second you were close enough.
Whatever happened, you were in this together.
Gojo took off his helmet, tossing it to the ground, a collective gasp breaking out at the disgraced former emperor wedding crashing.
"You murdered my family, framed me, and now what? Trying to marry my lady?" You would probably slap him for that last line later, but it made the impression he wanted in the audience, redirecting all the suspicious stares back to the man left at the alter.
"You're pathetic," Geto cooly dismissed, glancing back to the knights guarding the doors he'd just came in through. "Seize him. Careful with the princess, it looks like the former emperor has used some kind of witchcraft to convince her of his lies."
Feeding into the hysteria of magic and conspiracy with a slimy lie, coming up with whatever excuse he needed to get Gojo back in jail and you back under his thumb.
But Nanami stepped out of the shadows, pulling out a stack of papers and a slip of a note.
The knights approaching hesitated, unsure if they should really follow Geto's command. Nanami was intimidating in a different sort of way - commandeering a certain respect an authority without trying.
"Arrest the Duke. More evidence has surfaced to suggest he's the suspect behind the crimes we're currently investigating," He somberly instructed, gesturing to Geto. "The signatures on the documents he provided were forgeries."
"You know me," Geto called out to you, not really a plea, but like he wanted you to understand. Like he wanted you to think this was for you.
"I don't think so," You swallowed hard, and you were physically shaking next to him.
"He's not what you need," Geto's voice was harder this time, shrugging off the few knights that had dared to approach him.
It happened in just a few seconds.
His former best friend stealing a sword from the closest knight, the silver catching the sunlight streaming in from the grand stained windows, and then coming down swiftly.
Gojo was just faster.
Stepping in front to shield you, drawing the sword and meeting Geto's with a loud clash. The crowd was scattering back, a few surprised shouts and screams echoing in the large hall.
His muscles screamed at the extension, underworked and starved for weeks. But the idea of losing was inconceivable.
Geto had already embarrassed him enough in front of you.
The second swipe of Geto's sword nearly landed, narrowly avoiding getting skewered at the last second, pushing you back enough to land in an annoyed Nanami's arms.
Gojo sucked in a sharp breath, steadying himself and getting ready to strike just for something to smack Geto in the face, a heel clattering to the floor by his feet.
You had thrown your fucking shoe at him.
Gojo seized the opportunity, the single second Geto was still stunned to knock his sword hard enough to send it skittering to the floor out of reach.
The knights hurried to grab him, no handcuffs prepared this time, one taking each arm as they took Nanami's word for it.
Geto didn't say anything.
No big proclamation or sudden profession. Just held his stare, not sorry in the slightest as they lead him down the same path Gojo walked a month before. Down to the recesses of the dungeon.
His only regret was probably not covering his tracks properly.
Thinking you were the type of girl who cared about wearing the crown in the first place.
Gojo wasn't sure which domino fell next.
Tossing his sword. The people surrounding him. The cheers. Crying that they'd never believed the lies as if he hadn't been there when they stayed silent.
But it was still his people. The ones he'd been born to protect and serve until his last breath.
He tried to smile, wave his hand that every swivel of his wrist didn't send sharp pains up to his broken finger, laughed and grinned like he was happy to be back.
But when he turned, he only caught a glimpse of your dress, the glitter of it and your hobble as you hurried into the hall.
It seemed chasing after you had become second nature.
"Wait," He called out, forcing his way between people, rushing to get to you before you could disappear out of sight.
He could've grabbed your hand again, but simply?
Gojo was too excited.
Once you were withing reach, he was grabbing you and pulling you into an almost crushing hug, squeezing your waist and burying his face into your hair.
"Thank you," He murmured, sharp nose nuzzling against your neck without meaning to, mostly just trying to stop himself from sniffling.
He half expected you to shove him off, to scoff and dismiss it as your duty again.
Bur you hugged him back, arms tentatively wrapping around him.
"You smell awful."
ᡴꪫ
His bath, however, smelled like sugar and roses.
You shouldn't know that. Yet, you stayed anyway.
Let Gojo lead you back to his chambers, insisting he needed the company and didn't want anyone else. You just didn't want to admit you didn't want to leave him either.
A maid delivered fresh clothes at his request, laying them out neatly on the bed after promising to be discreet when all three of you knew the rest of the palace would know by the end of the day.
He unlaced your wedding dress for you, a nervous flutter in your stomach at how nimbly he freed you from the too-tight corset. You still shoved him in the bathroom so you could finish stripping, a heap of shimmering fabric left on the floor as you traded it in for an almost as embarrassing gown that looked more like lingerie.
Anxious, you knocked on the door to the bathroom, leaning in to listen to the sound of running water.
"I'm finished, um, Gojo?" You weren't sure what to call him now. He would have to be coronated after getting stripped from his role. Did that make him a prince again?
"I like it when you call me Satoru," He hummed inside.
"Well, Satoru, should I fetch food, or perhaps a doctor for you?" You chewed on the inside of your lap, looking around for something to cover yourself up if you were going to leave the room.
Everything was rich and warm in here, funny little glass animals on shelves and expensive tapestries on the wall. His huge four poster bed carved with intricate woodwork, silk sheets and luxurious blankets spread over it. Well-worn and well-loved.
What would your life be like, you wondered, if it'd always been him from the start?
"Could you come in first? I can't reach the soap," He called out.
You pushed the door open, peeking inside shyly to find him already submerged in the tub, water up to his chest and bubbles concealing everything underneath. He shut off the faucet, another reminder of just how wealthy he was to have one of the few rooms with heated water in the whole estate.
His head was reclined back on the porcelain rim of the tub, white hair freshly washed. His face still had a few flecks of dirt on it, his cheeks and jaw far sharper than they'd been a few weeks ago, and still, he was so handsome it hurt. But it was the raw skin where the collar had rested that caught your attention, the once smooth complexion pink and irritated.
He turned to look over, cracking open a single eye just to freeze and immediately open both when he saw what you were wearing. Another day you probably would've laughed at how hard the lump in his throat bobbed before he tried to pull his charming mask back on.
"Are you just going to stare?" He teased, throwing a frustratingly cute lopsided smirk over at you. "I don't mind, I mean, I'm flattered-"
"Does it hurt?" You blurted out, your hand returning to your own neck as if you could feel it. But that just reminded you of the engagement ring still on your finger, and you hurried to take it off, embarrassment pricking at it as you glanced at the diamonds glittering in your palm.
"I'm fine," Gojo said, soft now, blue eyes narrowed as he watched you with concern. "Are you?"
"Yeah."
Perhaps you were both just liars.
You left the engagement ring on the sink, half hoping it'd fall down the drain before grabbing the soap and the basket of washcloths from the wall. Getting down on your knees next to the bath and looking to him for permission he gave you with a surprised nod.
Damping a washcloth before scrubbing his smooth skin, weeks of grime washing off with a little work. He closed his eyes, letting you gently get him clean again, humming a song you'd never heard before.
He'd lifted his hand up, about to comb through his hair with his fingers when you noticed one crooked and swollen. A choked-up gasp escaped you, surprised at his injury.
"Hey, don't worry," He soothed, wiggling it even though it made him wince. "I'll get the doctor to set it when I get out, okay?"
You let him comfort you. Let him tell you stupid stories so you could remember what it felt like to laugh. Let him hold your hand and squeeze softly to remind you where you were.
It was nice.
This small comfort, this idea of intimacy where you didn't need to speak or ramble to know you were appreciated. The closeness in knowing he'd protect you - and you'd do the same for him.
Maybe he'd write you back when you left this time.
ᡴꪫ
Satoru insisted you stay another month.
You obliged him. You weren't even sure why. What would you have to go back to now anyway?
A family who never bothered to write now that you wouldn't be Empress? Wouldn't have a husband with the kind of power or connections they want?
Maybe you could find a quiet cottage somewhere warm - somewhere you'd just have a piece of land and a serene place to sleep. It sounded a little unfulfilling, a far cry from the dreams you once again deemed out-of-reach.
But you guessed it was better than being unwanted.
The world's most gracious host has given you a frankly absurd amount of gifts anyway, more dresses and jewelry than you could pack or even conceivably wear. If you sold enough, you could certainly scrounge up the funds you'd need for it.
He was too busy to notice, buried under a mountain of paperwork and planning to reinstate himself as emperor, juggling duties he'd previously neglected on top of settling the trail with Suguru. You hadn't seen the sentencing. Hadn't asked.
Only written out your testimony against him, claiming it'd be too much for you to be in the same room as him.
Satoru was quick to put his seal on that document, apparently as anxious as you were about you seeing Suguru again.
His finger was still crooked. Might be forever. You'd accompanied him to his last doctor's appointment where they'd suggested breaking it again to try setting it again. Gojo declined.
His throat had mostly healed, faint scars left that he'd been hiding under high collars or cloaks unless he was with you.
Gojo always stopped his paperwork to search for you at least once or twice a day, hunting you down in the library or gardens or convincing you to have to take a break and have tea with him.
No bugs this time.
He'd sneak into bed with you at night sometimes, too late for any nosy attendants to pay attention, rubbing his tired eyes and murmuring about nightmares before he clambered under the blankets next to you.
It was stupid to allow him in. When he made your heart stutter and stop every time he pulled you into his body in his sleep, stroking your hair softly and making promises under his breath.
You needed to move on.
The bond you had was rooted in something you weren't even sure was romantic. He hadn't tried to kiss you, although there had been a few times you thought he would. Nights where you'd be so close your noses would almost touch, mornings where you'd wake up in his arms.
Sometimes you considered just kissing him to know what it felt like. Just a single second to see what you'd spent so long dreaming about before you shelved it entirely.
But Gojo was preoccupied with his own dreams.
You woke up to an empty bed the morning of his second coronation ceremony, the scent of his soap and shampoo still on your pillow when you rolled over, tracing your fingers over the faint indent his body had left.
A note has been left on your nightstand, accompanied by a pretty white flower cutting of heliotrope, probably just picked because it was the same shade as his hair and swelled sweet. You still smiled, rubbing the corner of your eyes before reading the note.
See you later, S
You saved it. Changed clothes and slipped it into the pocket of your dress, something you were sure you'd have every inkblot memorized of by the time you were four hours away this afternoon.
And who knows?
Maybe you would see him again some day.
✧
His crown was once again perched on its proper place, gold and gems glittering on top of his moon-white hair.
The crowd cheered louder for his second coronation than they had for his first.
But the only face he hoped to find wasn't there. Showered with praises and poems, returned to his rightful status while he mourned the future he was meant to have before.
One where maybe he had the decency to open your first letter and replied his damn self. One where he'd married you and his best friend was the best man instead of stuck in the same cell he'd just spent a month in. Might've spent the rest of his life in if it wasn't for you.
Too busy missing the signs and making mistakes he would be paying for until he was buried.
He was terrified he'd made another one without realizing it.
You hadn't left yet, had you?
He slipped away from the party, not offering explanations or excuses to anyone who attempted to stop him, scratching his neck around the collar of the stupid fur cloak they'd insisted on dressing him in and hurrying through the hall until he found your room.
Gojo paused, holding his breath before twisting the knob, his stomach curling at the realization it was unlocked before he pushed it open.
The bed was neatly made, the balcony curtains drawn to let in the sun, light bathing the room that refused to warm his skin without you there. The note he'd left, the flower he handpicked for you, had both disappeared, taken too.
You were gone. He walked in, touching every surface like he was searching for some sign of you. There wasn't even a note.
He paused, glancing through one of the pretty stained glass windows overlooking the front garden, the cobbled path to the street packed with carriages outside.
And you.
Handing over a suitcase to the driver, glancing past your shoulder and shielding your eyes to look over the palace one last time.
His legs were moving for him, ripping open the balcony door and calling your name.
You didn't hear him.
He didn't bother judging the distance, or even looking down at the drop. It was only the second floor after all.
And then he was jumping over the railing, landing in a bush and losing his cloak in the process, branches and leaves getting stuck to his outfit as he scrambled to get free, his ankle aching as he broke into a jog to catch up to you. It was a miracle his crown hadn't fallen off. Sprinting down the street and shouting to you like he was fucking crazy, and he supposed he really might've lost it when he watched you climbing in to the carriage and the door shut behind you.
The driver saw him first, freezing and squinting at him before gawking the second he realized who this stranger was.
Already starting to bow his head before Gojo was begging him to wait, fumbling through an explanation that he needed to speak to you.
You must have heard something, the door opening back up and your cute face scrunching in confusion when you peeked out.
"Satoru?"
He couldn't let this be the last time you called him that.
Gojo wasn't sure what he was doing, didn't have a single fucking clue, really, but he was down on both knees before you could get another syllable out.
"Don't go," He murmured, a desperate plea shining in his eyes. "I just, I know I'm a mess and I've put you through enough, but fuck, I can't lose you, okay? I love you, and I-I need you, and you're just-"
"I'm what?" You asked, soft and surprisingly sincere when he half-expected you to shut the door on him while he rambled.
"You're too good for me," He confessed, blunt and broken in a way he didn't know if he'd be able to put back together on his own. "If I was a better man, I'd let you leave and never look back, but I'm selfish and stupid and-"
You grabbed him by his collar and tugged him inside the carriage, shutting the door behind him with a slam.
"I'm sor-" He started to apologize again just for you to huff and shut him up with a kiss.
There was nothing soft about it.
It was hard and hungry and heated, your hands on his face and your lips between his, the taste of mint lingering on them as he desperately kissed you back.
He was grabbing your waist, awkwardly maneuvering until you were straddling his lap, soft thighs spread over his sturdy ones, squeezing you every few seconds to make sure you were real and this wasn't some incredibly long dream he'd been having inside his cell still.
"Is this-" He stammered, barely breaking away just to breathe in your skin, the perfume on it and the smell of his soap on your body. "Are you sure?"
"Kiss me again and find out," You murmured, fingers tracing up over his collar one and getting tangled in his hair, careful not to mess up the crowd he'd forgotten he was still wearing.
His mouth found yours again, hungrily sucking on your bottom lip when your hips suddenly rolled down on the growing bulge barely concealed by his pants.
Gojo's fingers felt clumsy when he fumbled for his crown, taking it off just to delicately place it on your head between kisses, grinning at the way you pulled back just to giggle and smile at him.
"Oh?"
"It's yours," He promised. It wasn't much for a proposal, but he needed you to know he meant it. He'd give you the palace on a platter if you wanted it.
"I'll think about it," You teased.
And hey, that wasn't a no.
You tilted your head to the side, and he took that as permission to leave more proof of his affection down your throat, littering the skin with bites and sucks. You moaned, just barely audible at his teeth nipped at you, and his cock practically jumped, throbbing to be touched.
He felt his jaw stiffen, trying to hold himself back, kissing you softer to keep himself together.
"Satoru," You said his name, and it was only when your smile subtly curled up in time with his cock twitched again that he realized you knew what you were doing, knew what effect you had on him.
"Princess," He breathed, struggling not to stutter when you readjusted on his lap, your hips moving just right, the pressure and friction making his already hazy head more lost in you.
"Do you really want me?" You asked, blinking a few times, lashes fluttering and eyes begging him to say yes. Offering him a vulnerable sliver of yourself.
"More than I've ever wanted anything," He answered truthfully.
"Then take me," You shrugged, maybe to make the moment feel smaller, like it was something you could contain.
He kissed you again, starving every second his lips weren't on you.
"Not here," He murmured.
You huffed at him, letting your canines graze a little too harsh against his bottom lip, but he couldn't help but hope you'd bite, leave his lip bruised and swollen so everyone could see your claim on him.
"Where then?"
He had you splayed out in his bed twenty minutes later, carrying you over his shoulder like a piece of game or grand trophy he'd won, ignoring the cheers and congratulations of staff members he passed by and the flustered few who tried to shout at him to return to the after-party. You were giggling the whole way there, keeping the crown on your head with one hand.
Gojo took his time peeling off every layer you were reveling in the softness of your skin and the shape of your body, tracing over the dimples and curves, holding his breath when he finally pulled your panties down your thighs.
"Are you just going to stare?" You mimicked him, but he could see the uncertainty in your own face, nervousness betraying you.
"I've never, um, y'know," He awkwardly began to admit, but he was sure his touch made it obvious, the tender way he skimmed over your breasts instead of immediately groping them.
"Had sex?" You scrunched your face up, like you really never guessed.
"Yeah," He muttered, still fumbling for the buttons on his shirt, pulling it off and discarding it on the floor by your dress. "Have you?"
"No," You shook your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek, a little embarrassed yourself. "I've done, other stuff but um, never this."
"Just tell me if it's too much," He murmured, getting out of bed to stand and properly take his own pants off. The way you watched him made him self-conscious, aware of the scars and his body still too lean for his liking. He'd resumed morning workouts and eating as much as he could to makeup for the days and weeks stuck in a cell, but he'd been in a better shape before.
"You're so attractive it's annoying," You confessed with a soft sigh, your eyes trailing down to the v of his hips, lingering on this pink and aching cock beneath the thick patch of his happy trail.
"You think so?" He hm-ed, not realizing his badly he needed the reassurance.
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. Now come here," You impatiently teased, just as needy as him.
He climbed back in bed, but he laid down next to you, pulling you up on his chest so your back as reclining on him, one hand slipping between your thighs while the other found your breast, toying with the nipple while he dipped two fingers inside your entrance.
Slick and soaked just for him.
"W-what are you-" Your voice broke, shattered like glass as you suddenly gasped when he pushed past that first tight ring of resistance, your walls clenching around his fingers.
"That feel good?" He hummed in your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it when you shivered under his touch, twitching when he rolled his thumb over your nipple.
"Mm, mhm," You nodded, craning your neck up to make eye contact with him, your stare glossy, full of something he hoped was love rather than just lust or longing.
Pumping his fingers faster, crooking them in deeper just to watch the way your lips parted with pleas of his name, studying the shape of your mouth when it formed the syllables.
His cock was painfully hard, throbbing with every moan, desperate for some release stuck between your back and his abs, barely able to keep his hips from bucking up.
He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to last more than two seconds when he was actually inside you.
So he tried to focus on your pleasure, stretching you open with a third finger, barely able to slot it in, watching the tears prick at your lashes.
"P-please, S'toru, need you," You whined, shuddering and moaning when his thumb ghosted over your clit.
He had you flat on the mattress in two seconds.
Back arching off the bed, his hands on your hip to hold you up while he pressed the tip of his leaking cock to your entrance. You gasped, silently nodding at him to put it in.
"Fuck, my pretty lady needs me?" He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched as he used every last drop of self-control in his body to ease his way in, watching inch by inch of his thick cock disappear into your warmth, veins pulsing as you sucked him in.
He felt like he might pass out.
Seeing the way your body connected with his, feeling your hips under his hand, the way you melted into a puddle in his palm, peering up at him the same way he'd pictured in his head so many times.
You made a sound, trying to speak and stuffed too full to get the words out.
And fuck, he was right there with you when he bottomed out, tip pressing into what he guessed was your womb, pleasure burning through him in hot flashes.
"I love you," He groaned, leaning down to kiss you, his cock throbbing when he refused to move, refused to budge, showering your face in kisses while you wrapped your wrists behind his neck and crossed your legs behind his back.
The closeness of all of it was too much.
You felt like his.
"Promise me," You murmured, inhaling hard between heated kisses.
"I promise," He easily repeated, pulling out his cock and pushing back in for the first unsure trust your chest rising and falling like he'd knocked the breath out of you. "Forever."
"Even if the next life?" You lightened up, your teasing once again turning into a whine when he buried himself down to the hilt inside you.
"Every life."
He made sure to fuck you like it.
Demanding thrusts, claiming you inside and out, his cock pumping in-and-out, his grip bruising on your hips and his lips leaving hickies all over your neck. Drawing moan after moan from your mouth, flipping you onto your stomach to keep going, pushing your back into that pretty arch for him and splitting you open on his cock with borderline mean pumps.
"Mine," He muttered, trailing kisses back up your spine to the nape of your neck, brushing the hair away and groaning at how hard you squeezed him, trying to milk him for all he had. "Tryin' to make me cum, princess?"
"M-maybe," You huffed. Your voice was a broken whisper, strained from the strangled noises he kept ripping from you.
The heat in his chest was building, skin damp with and loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead as his muscles burned and tensed.
He slipped a hand underneath your body, finding your clit and rolling it between two fingers, your body shuddering, pressure building in your own stomach at the friction.
"Breathe, baby," He teased, and you tried, your cries muffled into the mattress when you unraveled beneath him, cumming hard right as his own tension snapped, abs briefly pulling taut as he painted your insides white.
Cum leaking down your thighs by the time he pulled out, mesmerized by the way it slowly dripped down onto his silk sheets. His tip was still swollen, resting on your ass and dripping more as he sucked in a sharp breath, tracing over your skin with adoration before pushing his cum back inside you just to hear the filthy squelch.
"Did so good f'me, princess," He praised, not quite able to steady his breathing still as you rolled over to face him, your own chest heaving.
"Just princess?" You hummed, limbs weak and exhausted as you grabbed his hand and tugged him on top of you.
"Would you say yes if I asked you to be my Empress?" He asked, running his thumb over your lip before leaning down to get another taste of you.
"Perhaps," You smiled, soft and sweet and everything he'd been dreaming about for months.
And the idea of it being his, of you smiling at him like that every day, was irresistible and intoxicating and absolutely addicting. Imagining you with him all the time, in his office and on his throne, waddling around with his baby in your belly or cradling an infant in your arms, he wanted all of it.
The good days and the bad, every broken and bent piece of you and all the best ones too.
Truly the luckiest man on earth just to exist in your warmth for however many moments you allowed.
"Hey, baby?" He yawned, leaning down to rest his head against your collarbone while your soft palms slid up his back.
Not ‘cause it isn’t true — it is — but because they think it’s some kind of insult. Like he’s supposed to get pissed and defensive, to deny the accusation and blow up at them for even suggesting it.
On the contrary, he agrees.
You have changed him, and thank fuck for that.
His loser friends give him shit when he orders water instead of beer, laughing that he’s turning hippy or something. But water’s good for him — it won’t give him the bulging belly they all carry around. If that ever happened, he’d bang his head against the wall every day till he dropped the weight. Otherwise, his gorgeous girl wouldn’t nuzzle his defined stomach, wouldn’t pepper kisses along his treasure trail or grind against the ridges till she’s panting and drooling.
That would quite literally be the end of his world.
They exchange mocking looks when he shrugs off young women, muttering loud enough for him to hear that maybe he’s lost all his testosterone, that his dick doesn’t work anymore, that he probably needs pills to get it up. And well, that’s just bullshit — he can go all night with you. In fact, he does. Very often. So much so that he has no appetite for anyone else.
Those bastards think it’s stupid to be a one-woman type of man, that it’s a waste of Fushiguro’s good looks and better physique. But what do those divorced, cheating idiots know?
At least he gets to come home to a warm house, delicious food, and sleep on soft breasts. No one-night stand with some bleached blonde stranger is going to rake blunt nails through his scalp, whisper updates about their day, and coo when all he can muster is a grunt in reply.
Yeah, he has to ask for permission to go on a boys’ trip or hit up the bar on weekends, but that’s only ‘cause he doesn’t know if you’ve got brunch with the girls the next morning or if there’s a farmer’s market you just can’t miss — he really does love supporting local, small businesses. Sweet old Chiyo would be devastated if he wasn’t there to try out her new pickle combo.
And sure, he dresses differently now, smarter and neater than before, but does anyone really miss the stained, unraveling rags he used to just throw on?
Not his fault those cheap assholes don’t recognise that his jumper is cashmere and his jeans are from Levi’s — not stolen off a homeless man. Just like his girl says, you can’t put a price on the value of not contributing to child exploitation and forced labour. Ah, alright, he couldn’t care less about the hypothetical kids in third-world countries, but he does care that you beam when he practices the sandwich method on his own, and when he checks the label and frowns if it says the thing’s made with any hint of polyester.
Why the fuck would he even be dressing to impress his bum friends?
What kinda homo shit is that, he wonders — in a non-derogatory manner, of course. After all, he’s an ally. According to you, anyway.
Bottom line is, the guys can mock him all they want.
summary: after a full day of teasing his feline secretary, valko finally gets her all to himself
wc: 2.7k
content: smut, unprotected sex, scenting, breeding, knotting, does it still count as semi-public if everyone has gone home, employer/employee
an: give him back infold
The rapid clacking of keyboards and dry rustling of papers filled the bullpen, occasionally punctuated by bits of idle chatter. You kept your focus on the thick stack of documents in front of you. Near your desk, the heavy office door swung open.
Your cat ears perked, instantly tracking the distinct, heavy rhythm of his leather shoes as he approached. He came to a halt right at your side, his massive frame towering over your seated figure. The sharp, intoxicating scent of his cologne flooded your senses.
“Good morning, Mr. Chairman,” you said, keeping your voice strictly neutral. If you gave him even a sliver of friendly opening, he had a terrible habit of derailing the entire morning.
“Good morning, Ms. Secretary,” he greeted jovially. Valko leaned one large hand on the polished wood of your desk, his tailored suit shifting with the movement. He looked every bit the impressive wolf hybrid who ran an entire tech company. When you finally looked up, he locked eyes with you. A wicked smirk pulled at his lips, his heavy tail giving a slow swish behind him.
With a slow, deliberate nudge, he pushed a stray pen off the desk’s edge. Before it could drop more than a few inches, your feline reflexes snapped. Your hand blurred through the air, catching the pen mid-fall. You halted its descent perfectly, giving your boss exactly the show he had been looking for.
Your ears flattened sideways as your tail flicked with agitation. You fixed him with a sharp glare, but his blatant amusement was written all over his face.
“Sir, please,” you hissed under your breath, trying not to draw the attention of your coworkers. “I’m trying to concentrate, and I know for a fact you have a meeting later today to prepare for.”
He ignored the protest entirely. Instead, he leaned down closer into your space, his ears pulled backwards, almost flat against his head, like a dog waiting to be given affection. “Excellent reflexes, kitty. Keep up the good work,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.
He straightened up, turning on his heel to saunter back into his private office. He had clearly walked out with the sole purpose of disrupting your day, entirely for his own enjoyment.
By mid-afternoon, your nerves were frayed from a constant awareness of the office door behind you. You needed a breather, and, more importantly, you needed fifty copies of the third-quarter financial portfolio organized and stapled.
You escaped to the copy room, a narrow, windowless shoebox of a space that perpetually smelled of ink and dust. The massive industrial printer took up most of the room, leaving only a narrow corridor between the machine and the supply shelves.
You loaded the master files into the machine, pressed start, and let out a sigh as it began its rhythmic whirring.
The heavy door clicked open behind you. Your ears twitched backward, pinning flat to your hair as that familiar cologne filled the cramped room. You didn't even have to turn to know Valko had followed you. The already-small space suddenly seemed even smaller now that you were sharing it with his bulky figure.
“Need something, Mr. Chairman?” you asked, making it a point not to look at him as you watched the machine spit out copies.
“Just looking for some extra staples,” he answered, his voice entirely too close. Before you could offer to find it for him, he stepped directly into your space. His large hand landed on your waist as he maneuvered himself behind you, his solid chest brushing against your shoulder blades. You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. He leaned over you, reaching one long arm to blindly grope at the top shelf above the printer. The movement pinned you between the warm machine and his even warmer body. Heat radiated off of him, contrasting with the cool metal of his belt buckle pressing into your lower back.
“I can't seem to find it,” Valko murmured right against the extra-sensitive shell of your fluffy ear. His warm breath made your tail give an involuntary, hard twitch. “Are you sure we aren't all out, Ms. Secretary?”
He was completely blocking you in, using the excuse of a tight space to fully engulf you in his scent and to breathe yours in. Your claws instinctively pricked against your palms, desperately wanting to dig into his expensive suit just to ground yourself.
“It’s on the supply shelf, sir,” you choked out, your voice tighter than you intended.
“Ah.” You felt the smirk in his voice. He twisted to look behind him, but still didn't release you, keeping you fully pinned to his broad chest. Keeping you trapped between his body and the machine, he slid his thigh deliberately between yours to keep his balance as he contorted his body to scan the shelves. “So it is,” he confirmed, reaching toward the half-empty box of staple refills. He finally left with the staples you were certain he didn't actually need, his fingers brushing against your hip as he slipped out behind you.
By 3:00 PM, the meeting room was full of executives intently listening to Valko speak about an upcoming project for the company. There was always something so captivating about watching him in his element at the head of the long mahogany table, and you found yourself paying more attention to how good he looked with his glasses and wanting to feel those sharp fangs sink into your skin than taking notes and keeping minutes.
“If you look here,” Valko directed, pulling a laser pointer from his pocket and clicking it on. A bright, ruby-red dot appeared on the screen. He continued speaking, using it to trace along line graphs and emphasize certain figures. He dropped it down when it was no longer needed, but it remained on, the red dot darting around the floor as Valko, to the humans gathered around the table, merely twiddled with it.
Your pupils dilated, expanding until the irises of your eyes were practically swallowed by black. Your cat ears snapped forward, and your gaze locked onto the pesky pinprick of light as it zigzagged over the carpet.
Every single feline instinct screamed at you to pounce. Your right hand twitched, desperate to swat the light from existence. Your tail gave a hard, violent flick. You forced your eyes away from the hypnotic pull of the dot to look at the man having the time of his life toying with you despite being in a professional setting. Not that that little detail had ever stopped him before.
Valko was already looking at you, still explaining costs and financial logistics. With a subtle movement of his thumb, the dot darted just to the side of one of your shoes, and you couldn't stop your foot from attempting to stomp it out, only for it to reappear on your shoe.
You scowled, annoyed that you had fallen victim to your own instincts. From the head of the table, you heard Valko chuckle through his words, his golden eyes flicking over to you, making it very clear that you were the source of his laughter. With a final, mocking twirl of the pointer, he clicked it off, pocketing the device as if nothing had happened, and all you could do was sit in silent, exasperated rage.
The clock finally struck 5:00 PM, the workday coming to a close. The bullpen filled with a chorus of zippers, rustling coats, and goodnights as the employees filed towards the elevators.
You were walking down one of the hallways, returning from the break room after taking a brief water break, when you saw that Valko had exited his office. His tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, exposing the thick column of his neck. The suit jacket had been discarded, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His ears swiveled forward, immediately locking onto the sound of your approaching footsteps.
When you passed each other, he didn’t stop you in your path, but he didn’t let you simply pass by him, either. With a deliberate sweep of his heavy, maroon tail, he brushed the furry appendage against your thigh. The thick fur brushed over your skirt and briefly against the fur of your own tail, sending sparks shooting up your spine.
You gasped, your ears pinning flat against your head as you whirled around. “Valko!”
He continued to walk, barely sparing you a glance over his shoulder, but it was enough to see the wide smile on his face, his sharp fangs showing as he laughed.
You huffed, practically stomping back to your desk. Ordinarily, you’d preen under his attention, but what didn’t he understand about “time and place?”
When Valko returned, seeing you practically pouting at your desk, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to hear his kitty purr for him.
“I need to see you in my office,” he said curtly, expending a tremendous amount of effort to keep his tail from wagging.
You sighed, but followed him into his office. As soon as you were over the threshold and the door shut behind you, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his solid arms around you as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.
“Why won’t you let me do this during the day?” he complained. It was his turn to pout, but it didn’t stop the excited wagging of his tail at having you pressed against him without putting on the charade of a respectful employer-employee relationship.
You rolled your eyes, but melted into his warmth anyway, wrapping your arms snugly around his waist. You didn’t struggle keeping your hands to yourself as much as he did during the workday, but he made his struggle yours with all his teasing. You nuzzled your nose into his chest, and he did the same against the top of your head.
The pair of you stayed that way for a long while, savoring the proximity of the other, tails winding together.
It was sweet, until it wasn’t enough for the canine hybrid. His hands began to wander, groping everywhere he could reach, paying special attention to where your tail was attached to your body. It was highly sensitive, and he knew that, using it to his advantage.
You gripped onto his shirt, claws catching at the material. He tugged at your silk blouse. “Take it off?” he whispered, his voice raspy with want.
— — —
“Valko!” you yowled, the ridges of his cock hitting every crevice inside you. Bent over his desk like this, there was nothing you could do but take every powerful thrust, your claws leaving shallow grooves in the wood of his desk as you scrambled for purchase.
“My pretty kitty,” he babbled. “Won’t let me show everyone you’re mine. Are you embarrassed of me?”
“No- ah!- ‘m not embarrassed,” you denied.
“Prove it, then. I gave you that mark so- hng!- everyone would know you’ve already been claimed. Use it like intended. Don’t- so tight- don't hide it tomorrow.”
You nodded mindlessly. You’d have agreed to anything if it meant he kept fucking into you like he had a score to settle.
Valko let out a low, triumphant chuckle. A fierce warmth spread through him, utterly thrilled that everyone would soon know you were his and he was yours.
He continued pounding into your weeping pussy, his thick tip prodding at your cervix and grunts and whines spilling from his lips. You were a pliant puddle beneath him, unable to focus on anything except his hips rutting into you with a predatory precision.
His hands were on your hips, pulling you back into him as he pummeled your insides. Your tail was curled around his thigh, and he relished the way your body subconsciously sought him out, even when he was already buried hilt deep inside of your pretty pussy. “Doin’ so good. Mmm, squeezing down so hard.” His voice is jagged, nearly a growl.
“S-so deep! Oh!” you cried out. The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls, coupled with the sinful sounds of your lover and the wet squelching between your bodies, had you right on the edge, and he could feel it.
You could feel the swelling bulge at the base of him, knocking into the tight resistance of your already stretched-out hole. Your breathing was coming in shallow pants, and Valko wasn’t much better, his deep grunts morphing into whimpers with every clench of your cunt around his length.
“Gonna take my knot, baby? Gonna let me fill you up?” he rasped, his head swimming just thinking about plugging his seed deep inside you.
You nodded feverishly, a weak “uh-huh” the most you could enunciate through the mind-numbing pleasure.
He thrusted into you deeply, pressing his hips flush against your ass, and his knot popped inside of you with a strangled gasp. The new stretch sent you reeling, every muscle tightening as your poor abused hole clamped around him, shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.
His heavy cock twitched inside you, spilling ropes of hot cum inside of you. He moaned freely, his golden eyes transfixed at the point where your spasming cunt swallowed him to the base, his knot keeping you connected. Valko didn't stop rutting into you, pushing his cum deep inside of you, willing it to take.
Only when he couldn’t take the overstimulation did he collapse on top of your panting figure, careful to brace himself not to hurt you. He peppered the side of your face, your neck, everywhere he could reach with sweet kisses, praising you all the while, telling you how perfect you were for him.
He gathered you in his arms as best he could, pulling you with him to sit on his lap in his desk chair. He smoothed your hair down, paying special attention to where your fuzzy ears attached to your head. You purred in his hold, content to have your mate dote on you while he was still buried deep inside of you.
Valko, never one to be able to resist you, nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Did you mean it? When you said you’d stop covering the mark?”
You pulled back just enough to look into his earnest eyes, wide with anticipation of your answer, a spark of fear in them that you would take it back. You flushed, but nodded shyly.
He laughed loudly and unabashedly, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. The sound of his glee was infectious, your own giggles joining the merriment. He pressed a kiss to your lips, overjoyed. “Can I scent you before work, too?”
You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, but your smile gave Valko all the permission he needed. “On one condition,” you said.
Valko’s eyebrows raised, curious as to what condition you could have.
“You have to promise me the same,” you smirked, leaning in close until your nose brushed his. Your fingers traced the line of his collarbones to the junction of his neck, where a matching bite mark was scarred into his skin. “Maybe then that annoying pomeranian in accounting will get the hint that you're taken.”
Valko’s eyes widened in surprise before a slow, deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. His tail began to thump wildly against the leather of the desk chair. “Are you jealous, sweetheart?"
“I don’t like the way she looks at you and stands too close,” you sniffed, tilting your head up in a way that reminded Valko you were no exception to feline haughtiness.
He laughed again, the sound full of utter adoration, and squeezed your waist. “There’s no reason to be jealous. I’m yours, from the tips of my ears to the soles of my feet. I’ll let you scent me as much as you want. I’ll even make sure she smells you on me if it makes you happy.”
He gave you one more firm, possessive kiss, his ears twitching happily as he finally began to shift beneath you. “Now, c’mon, let’s get dressed. We’re going home, and I’m gonna cook whatever my sweet mate wants for supper.”
Valko had grown up being told that when he'd meet his mate, he'd know. He would stay up so many nights, asking his mom to tell the story of how she met his dad, how she knew that his dad was the one. No matter how many times he'd hear the story, he'd never get tired.
Maybe that was why he believed in love stories. Because how could he not? His parents' was the love story for the ages.
However, seeing how old he was now, he was starting to lose hope.
He had travelled the world, met countless people, and never once had he ever met someone that made him pause. That stole his breath, that made his wolf go wild, that pulled him as if they were meant for him.
Sure, there had been relationships, good fucks- some were genuinely nice women. One relationship had even lasted two years because it was so comfortable. But that was all it was. Comfortable. No one ever captured his heart. No one ever made his soul burn. No one ever made his wolf yearn for them.
Not the way his mother had always told that she did for his father.
So he told himself that love could wait. It would have to wait. He just focused more and more on the company. On his career. On everything other than what he wanted to seek out.
Even now, he was sitting at his desk, overseeing some papers when his assistant knocked.
"Sir?" He popped his head in the office. "We have a bit of a situation downstairs."
"What now, Simon?" Valko sighed and looked up.
"Uh.. there's a woman downstairs. In the lobby. Won't leave until she sees you." Simon explained.
"So? Call security or whatever-" Valko waved him away.
"That's the problem part." Simon swallowed. "She's not doing anything. She's just sitting there. Says that she needs 5 minutes only. Says that she'll wait."
"Wait?" Valko's brows furrowed and Simon nodded. He inhaled deeply and paused. "I'll handle it." Valko said slowly and then took another deep breath.
There were the usual smells. Office cedar, air fresheners, stale coffee, and something new. Different. Sweeter.
Valko closed his laptop and took out his nasal blockers. He usually wore them so his sense of smell wouldn't constantly be assaulting and distracting him. He took another deep breath and suddenly felt his wolf pawing at the back of his throat.
That was new. His wolf never did that. Had never done that.
He walked out of his office and the smell grew stronger. He followed it all the way down to the lobby and there you were. His heart stuttered, his wolf practically tried to claw out of his chest. He had to put his nasal blocker back in so to not lose control and show the whole building his tail.
"I heard you were looking for me." He said smoothly with a smile, offering his hand.
"Mr Ao! Hello!" You smiled brightly and his knees almost buckled. "I'm so sorry for showing up like this but I called and no appointments were available until next month and-"
He wasn't listening. He couldn't. You were shaking his hand and that's all that mattered. All this time he'd spent looking- Somehow you'd come to him. Just shown up out of thin air.
"But anyway- I found a backdoor vulnerability in your new healthcare app-" You pulled away from his hand and he almost reached out to grab you again. You didn't notice that. You were too busy opening your laptop to show him what you'd found. "I have a small cyber security start up." You explained. "And I thought that if I'd emailed you about this, it might look like a scam or something -"
You were still talking but all Valko was doing was looking at you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, the way your mouth moved as you spoke, your hands as they glided over the keys on your laptop. Whereas his wolf was purring because he was just near you. A soft chant churning in his head. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.
"See?" You smiled, showing him your laptop screen. "That could lead to potential data leaks." Valko nodded. He had heard absolutely nothing you'd said. "Whoever built the authentication layer probably forgot to tie up the loose ends- It's nothing catastrophic. Yet." You turned to him and he was just... There. Without a single working braincell.
"Right... Can you show me the code again please?" He tried to piece together what you'd said.
You nodded and put your laptop on the receptionist's desk. Valko moved closer to look at your laptop over your shoulder and definitely not to smell you.
The nasal blocker was there but this close, he could still smell you. Like pine after rain. Like a warm beach day. Like midnight after a thick snow. Everything was so crisp and you were showing him a code that looked like hieroglyphics at the moment.
"Mr Ao?" You asked, unsure if he was even listening.
"I'm sorry." He gave an easy smile to cover up the torment inside him. "I'm a little distracted. Work and all-" He lied. Oh god I just lied to my mate what would mother say? He cleared his throat. "If you could give me your number, perhaps we can arrange a proper sit down and discuss this?" And then afterwards I'll throw you over my shoulder and we'll disappear for at least a month.
You smiled again and his wolf preened. You were smiling at him. For him.
"Of course." You handed him your business card.
"I'll take very good care of this." And you. Oh god I'll take such good care of you. He slipped the business card into his pocket.
You nodded, "Well.. um- I should go- I'm sorry for causing a scene and-"
Cause as many scenes as you want. Anything you want. His brain was burning up. This was everything and more than what his mother had told him would feel like.
"Thank you." He breathed out as you put your laptop on your bag. "For finding this." And me. Thank you for finding me. "We would have landed in a lot of trouble and lawsuits if you hadn't."
"It's really no problem. You're doing good work. I didn't want it to stop just because someone made a mistake." You assured him. "Thank you again for your time, Mr Ao."
"Valko. Please, call me Valko." He said softly. You'll be saying it for the rest of life, soon enough.
"Valko." You repeated and his wolf purred in his chest.
He shook your hand again, his other hand coming to cover yours completely. "I hope to see you again soon." And then never let you go.
꒰ ♡ ⸝⸝ EVER BEEN TO PARIS? ❤︎︎ ₊ ⊹
reader surprises reiner && jean with her new lingerie !
⎯⎯ smut ⸝⸝ no plot ⸝⸝ afab!reader
“holy shit.” was what jean blurted out when he saw your lingerie. the pretty shade of pink complimented your skin. it was lacy and hugged your curves in all the right places. of course, the two men that towered over you eyed it carefully, as if they were undressing you with just their eyes.
“do you like it?” you teased lightly. they only nodded, eyes never leaving the blush set. you giggled softly and moved up the bed. reiner followed suit, still fully dressed. jean, on the other hand, slowly started to strip. you shamelessly stared as he took off his clothes.
jean was hard. his tip was red and leaking with precum. he stroked himself a few times before walking up to the foot of the bed. “come over here, pretty.” without hesitation, you complied and met him at the edge of the bed. reiner watched from the bed as you kissed jean. it was slow at first, his lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss, then it turned hungry. he cupped your face and pulled you impossibly close, practically stealing your breath. he kissed you like you were his oxygen and he was running out. you lowered your hand and pumped the base of his cock as you kissed him back with the same passion. he grunted softly and you felt him twitch in your hand.
you felt reiner before you heard him. his large hands gripped your waist and pulled you away from jean. jean narrowed his eyes at him, but stroked himself as he watch the two of you kiss. you tangled your hands in reiner’s hair and he groaned softly. after a bit, he broke the kiss and started to trail kisses down your neck, quickly making his way down your chest. when he got to your tits, he turned to jean with a grin.
reiner didn’t have to say anything, jean immediately knew what he had in mind. the two men took each breast in their mouths and sucked gently. you moaned at the contact. the feeling of their tongues swirling around your nipples sent a shiver down your spine. your hands quickly found their way in their hair. you threw your head back and cried out their names, tugging at their hair slightly.
after the two of them argued over who could fuck you first, you laid on your back and spread your legs wide. reiner won since he’s thicker and could “stretch you out first.” he’s just being greedy, really, but so is jean.
the second reiner slipped inside of you, jean’s lips found yours. he snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your clit in gentle circles with his thumb. you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. reiner’s thick cock split you open, each inch had you trembling underneath him. the slow drag of his cock against your walls was agonizing. his name escaped from your lips, warm walls hugging his thick cock tightly.
“you’re doing so well beautiful, taking me so well.” he said. you whined and spread your legs further apart. he angled his hips slightly and somehow reached even deeper inside of your tight cunt. “rei,” you cried out softly. he let out a low groan himself as your walls clenched around him. jean lowered his head down, lips finding your breast again. his brown eyes locked with yours as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. mouth slightly agape, your hands flew to his hair to tug at it. this only egged jean further. a sinful moan left you, his mouth hot on your tits.
the pressure building in your lower abdomen signaled that you were close. you clenched around reiner even tighter, earning another groan from him.
“you’re close pretty?” reiner murmured, dropping his head to your neck. he sucked the skin gently.
“uh huh,” you heard yourself reply.
reiner moved his hips faster, balls slapping against your ass with each stroke. you cried out his name and buried your face in his neck. “feels so good rei—fuck—i’m coming,” your orgasm crashed over you, hard and fast. you clung to reiner’s bicep to ground yourself. his hips slowed as he approached his own high. he buried you to the hilt before coming deep inside of you. after catching his breath, he slowly pulled out and watched as his seed dropped out of your aching cunt. the greedy man pushed some back in with his fingers before leaning down to give you a kiss.
“you did amazing,” he murmured against your lips. mind hazy, you kissed him back slowly. your legs felt like jelly, but there was still jean. his erection was pressed against your thigh. you reached over and stroked it with your hand lazily. he grunted and shifted on the bed beside you.
“you okay?” he whispered to you. you looked up and met his eyes.
“yes,” you muttered. you glanced down to his leaking tip in your palm.
reiner kissed your cheek and leaned over to kiss jean’s. “treat her nicely,” he said with a grin. jean raised an eyebrow at him. “i always do, don’t i?”
you nodded eagerly. “mhm,” your hand traveled to the base of his cock. you stroked him gently and his eyes fluttered shut. reiner cupped his face before kissing him. jean shuddered into the kiss, cock twitching in your hand. you giggled as you watched him squirm under your touch. reiner broke the kiss and titled his head at you.
“you’re just gonna tease him the whole time? damn." jean glared at him and turned to you. “no more teasing… please?” he frowned and you almost felt bad. almost.
you were sitting in the middle of your two boyfriends who were, despite one of them just coming inside of you, were still very, very horny.
“hmmm, okay.” you tugged his hand and pushed him back into the bed. he smirked the second you swung a leg over his lap. grabbing the head, you teased your wet folds with the tip of his cock. jean, impatient as ever, kissed your shoulder and bucked his hips up each time you pressed his tip into your entrance. reiner’s lips were captured on jean’s ear, nibbling lightly.
finally, you sank down on jean’s cock, slowly taking him inch by inch. you bit your lip as you struggled to take all of him. jean was on the longer side. riding him always took a second to get used to. you gasped when he bottomed out and clenched around him. smacking your ass, he groaned and leaned his head in the headboard.
“so tight, baby. i thought rei you stretched out enough…”
reiner, who was now on the corner of the bed, stroking his half-hard cock with his hand, glared at jean.
“i did.”
jean chuckled, leaning back to angle his hips. seems like he was gonna do all the work right off the bat. you were glad, your legs still felt weak from earlier. jean shook his head with a chuckle. he looked up with you, eyes dark with lust, and kissed your jaw.
“gonna make you come so hard you see stars.”
he grabbed your hips and started thrusting into you at a steady pace. your hands found his shoulders to steady yourself as he bullied your gummy walls. the way he reached so deep inside of your pussy, hitting that spot, made you moan out his name.
“yeah i know baby, i know, you’re doing so good for me,” he praised softly. he smacked your ass occasionally, and cursed under his breath every time your hips met and you became one. "you weren't this loud for rei, now were you?"
"jeann," you whined softly. you were overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of the friction of rubbing against his pelvis. in the far back of your mind, you could hear reiner’s broken moans and curses as he came undone in his palm. he jerked himself off to way your ass rippled every time you sunk back down on jean’s cock again and the way your tits bounced as jean met his hips with yours. jean chased your own climax, angling his hips just right so his cock could curve and hit your g spot with every thrust.
jean’s eyes locked with yours as you came. the feeling took you over and you collapsed on his chest. your eyes fluttered shut as your chest heaved. he joined you shortly after, hips stuttering before he stilled, emptying his seed.
“jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath. reiner grunted at the corner of the bed. you were speechless. you could barely even think straight. you felt two hands lift you and place you in the bed. the two men worked quietly to clean you up. a warm rag to clean up, and bubble bath to relax, and light kisses to shower you with love.
you found yourself in the middle of them again in the bubble bath. you splashed the two of them with water sly grin.
“perverts! what do you have to say for yourself?” you teased.
they exchanged a glance before deadpanning.
“i blame the lingerie.”
ok i’ve never written a 3 sm before so im #scared lmk if it’s ahh 🥹
thank you to the nonnie that requested this!
ac: @ thisuserisalive && @ yuki_levi
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Dick is immediately charmed by you. Your confidence, strength, grace, it completely throws him off in the best way. He loves how effortlessly powerful you are while still being compassionate. Training together becomes dangerously distracting because he keeps getting caught staring.
Dick is fascinated by Amazon culture and genuinely listens when you talk about your homeland and traditions. You absolutely carry him bridal-style at least once after patrol just to embarrass him. He never feels emasculated by your strength; if anything, he admires it more.
Gotham citizens become obsessed with the idea of “Nightwing and the warrior princess.” Dick helps you adapt to Gotham’s darker atmosphere when it becomes overwhelming. He’s one of the few people who can make you laugh after difficult battles.
“You know, most people would be intimidated by you.”
“And you are not?”
“Oh, I absolutely am. I’m just flirting through it.”
Jason Todd
Jason seeing you fight for the first time changes his brain chemistry. There’s just something about an Amazonian warrior glaring down criminals that does it for him. The two of you radiate “mythological power couple.”
Jason appreciates that you understand violence and battle without glorifying them. You can handle his anger without fearing him, which means more than he says aloud. He’d absolutely ask you about ancient weapons, myths, and combat styles for hours. Sparring between you two becomes intensely competitive. Jason secretly likes when you patch him up and scold him afterward.
He trusts you faster than he trusts most people because your honesty reminds him of warriors rather than politicians. If someone underestimates you because of your kindness, Jason almost feels bad for them.
“You hit like a truck.”
“You say that every time.”
“Because I continue to be impressed.”
Tim Drake
Tim is fascinated by literally everything about you. Ancient Amazon history? Your combat techniques? Divine artifacts? He’s researching all of it immediately. He admires how disciplined you are. You become one of the only people capable of dragging him away from work consistently.
Tim likes hearing stories about your homeland late at night while Gotham rains outside. He trusts your instincts during missions completely. If your compassion clashes with Gotham’s brutality, Tim quietly helps you navigate the moral gray areas. You help him feel grounded in a way he rarely experiences.
Tim absolutely keeps detailed notes about your fighting style because he thinks it’s incredible. He gets flustered whenever you casually do something impossibly strong.
“You lifted a car like it weighed nothing.”
“Yes?”
“I need a moment.”
Damian Wayne
Damian respects you almost immediately. A warrior with discipline, honor, and skill? You check every box in his mind. He enjoys sparring with you more than anyone else because you actually challenge him. Damian is deeply interested in Amazon combat traditions and would absolutely ask serious questions about them.
The two of you together are terrifyingly efficient in battle. He admires your confidence and refusal to back down. Damian can be emotionally closed off, but your honesty makes it harder for him to hide what he feels. Alfred notices Damian becoming calmer around you. You’d probably help him reconnect with the idea that strength and compassion can coexist. Damian gets weirdly protective if anyone disrespects your heritage or abilities.
Pairing: puppy!Choso x owner!reader
cw: SMUTTT, subby whiny pervy dog hybrid choso, owner reader, fem!reader, panty sniffing, scenting, riding him, choso cries, cumplay, degrading him a bit, punishment... he calls reader mistress/ma'am, light slapping, not proofread lols
for this ask <3 and mommy @mimuju
Choso was a good boy.
The best boy.
He's your good boy, could do no wrong.
You thought as much.
He's been your cute stay-at-home-hybrid for a while now, finally comfortable enough to not be as shy around you.
Choso was on the more timid side, but he'd make sure he's always around you when you're home.
Sitting next to you at the breakfast table, thigh against thigh, his tail wagging and smacking against the leg of the chair. You liked his presence, letting him steal food from your plate, wiping his cheek with your thumb when he got a bit messy.
He wanted to watch everything with you, getting startled by horror movies- you had to hold the sweet boy and scratch behind his ears. You loved it though, getting to coo and laugh at him when he trembled from a jumpscare.
He slowly had moved to your bedroom instead of his designated room, sleeping besides you, sometimes at the foot of the bed if you weren't in the mood to get snuggled up with a man that could engulf your whole form in his arms.
But that was rare.
You let him lay his head on your chest, place soft kisses on his hair and listen to his breath.
If there was a thunderstorm outside, then you'd huddle up under blankets with him and read to him as a distraction from the loud thundering sound and howling winds.
He did get a bit… touchy though, nosing and trying to scent you in the middle of the night when he thought you were fully passed out.
…You liked it.
He could smell how turned on you'd get, the lovely way your panties became damp and your cunts hole would flutter.
He wanted to have a lick… get your flavor in his mouth.
But he was good, just shifting to try and go to sleep, even if he had the most delicious smelling treat right under his nose.
When you went for walks at the park, he behaved well and stayed near. Choso was actually fairly frightened by the other demihumans.
Especially that mean looking pink tiger guy… or the gray wolf.
Choso wasn't some meek weakling but he preferred to stay hip to hip with you… in case he had to protect you, not the other way around… definitely.
Back to him being the bestest boy ever.
He wasn't.
Choso was a little pervert.
Like any dog would be.
He gave you sad puppy eyes when you left for work, whining about missing you- all to get a kiss on his droopy expression before you left and closed the door.
He did miss you, he didn't lie about that.
But that pouty act turned into one of pure neediness.
He had started off tame… going into your bedroom, rummaging trough your underwear drawer to get his paws on the fresh laundry, bringing it up to his face to sniff.
Then put them back.
You never knew.
Then he got bolder, sitting on the bathroom floor and pouring the dirty laundry basket out on the tiles, picking your most recently worn clothes up to roll in, laying on his back while smushing a pair of filthy panties to his face. As if you would be on his face.
And then he would shove all of it back into the basket and go laze about on your bed.
You NEVER knew.
One morning you had given him a bye bye peck on the lips, something you had never done before but he had been on the brink of tears, kneeling while tugging at your jeans, ears all flat and tail between his thighs. He was being extra clingy.
So a little kiss was sure to cheer him up.
A bit too much.
Late afternoon- and you return back home, exhausted from work and in need of a shower and a good meal. And some love and attention from your house dog.
"Choso! Puppy, I'm home…" You yawn out, toeing your shoes off and dropping your bag on the little table in your hallway.
Choso, the precious boy he was, rushed over and hugged you, his frame folding over you.
You couldn't help but giggle when he nosed at your neck, acting all cute. Not trying to taste you, no not at all.
He had acted normal throughout dinner, maybe a bit more… nosy than usual.
Nothing was amiss.
Until you were picking out some clothes to change into after you took a shower.
T shirt.. check… sweatpants… check… chewed up panties… check.
…
chewed up panties?
You lifted the cotton pair up by the sides.
There was a hole… a big one… bit right out from where your pussy would go if you wore them-
You don't remember moths having such a big appetite.
Your stupid mutt of a hybrid had gotten into your underwear.
He had gotten a little bit too excited and had decided he NEEDED a taste.
So what else was he supposed to do? Not take a chunk out of your favorite pair?
You tossed the ripped up thing to the bed and groaned, rubbing a hand over your forehead.
"CHOSO."
He was in the room before you could even finish the full word, on his knees and a trembling bottom lip sticking out, tail neatly tucked under his thighs and black furred ears down on his skull.
"Yes, mistress..?"
You glanced over to the bed.
He did too-
Oh no.
I mean, what did he expect would happen.
Leaving evidence right where you'd find it.
Silly boy.
The kneeling hybrids face started to heat up, looking to the floor where his hands were.
"…Wasn't me.."
"Who then? The undie ripping fairy? The pervert gnome of panty land?"
"…Both of them…"
You went silent, eyes staring down at his.
He whimpered, shifting uncomfortably under your glare.
"Choso, be good. Tell me what happened, seriously."
"I.. i didn't mean to… swear it."
"Choso Kamo."
He bit the inside of his cheek, head tipping forwards and hanging. His dark locks falling over his face to cover the guilty look.
His tail was starting to slooowwly slide back and forth across the floor.
Was he enjoying this?
You ran the hand from your forehead down your face.
"I did it…ma'am.."
"Why?"
"Wanted to smell you… but.. but also taste so i…"
"Taste and smell… what else, touch and lick?" You scoffed, making a sarcastic remark.
But he nodded, finally lifting his chin back up to have his chocolate irises meet your annoyed ones.
"May i, mistress?"
"May you? You tore up my favourite pair and now you want to get some? Fine. But you won't like it. "
You tried to threaten him, but he didn't look all that scared.
Not until you grabbed him by the hair and made him scoot forward, clumsy hands clinging to the backsides of your thighs. That pitiful little face he was making made you want to forgive him, but he deserved to be punished.
You stepped a bit wider, shoving his face between your legs.
This earned you a whine from him, unsure what to do now… the scent of you filling his nose and making his fluffy tail thump around on the flooring.
"Don't look so excited, damn mutt."
Choso shuddered from the mean name, peering up at you, tongue already darting out to try and lick at the fabric of your pants.
You unbuttoned your jeans, letting the not so guilty looking hybrid watch you unzip and tug the waistband down.
Before you could even get them past your thighs he was trying to lap at the front of your filly panties- canines lightly pulling on the material.
Someone was hungry.
"Look at you… now hold on, you can't taste unless i allow it." You chuckle, pulling him away by his hair.
Poor Choso was already sniffling, unable to tear his eyes away from the damp fabric clinging to invitingly to your puffy folds, hands gripping into his own sweats.
"Please….mistress… please."
You tutted.
How impatient.
You pulled him up from his knees, pushing him onto the soft bed- ripped up panties forgotten underneath him.
You didn't want to let him get what he wanted the most. To get to touch and bite at your skin.
So the best course of action?
Forcing him to lay down, tugging his sweatpants down just enough so you could sit on his weepy cock. It looked like it was crying by how much precum was oozing out.
Your clothed pussy formed around it, thighs trapping his legs underneath yours.
"No touching."
"Yes ma'am."
It was a pitiful sight, his ears floppy and his eyes glossy, unable to look away where your bodies were rubbing together- and his hands, oh his desperate hands, trying to lay flat on the bedsheets beside his sides.
You didn't slide your soaked panties to the side until he started to buck his hips.
Obviously his cock was obscenely large, with a plump knotting bump at the end. Not to mention how pretty his happy trail was, your hands pressing down on his lower stomach to hold him still while shifting and helping the leaky cockhead find your sopping hole.
Thwap slap thwap slap slap!
Your hips bounced up and down, ass meeting his trembling thighs, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin filled the usual wholesome bedroom air.
All he could do was… well.. cry. And let out whimpers of your name- too overwhelmed.
He was sobbing, nose scrunched up and his eyes blinking out pearly tears before shutting completely, fingers gripping into the bedsheets so hard they might tear.
"Misuhh…mistthhrurress…" He hiccuped out your title over and over again.
You leaned over, grabbing his face with one hand, the other bracing your weight on his abs.
"Cmon, look at me, you crybaby. You did this to yourself."
He refused to open his eyes, trying to squirm out of your hold.
Smack!
You have his cheek a light slap before leaning back, making sure to clench around him for a torturous squeeze.
"Bad puppy."
You didn't even let him cum inside, getting off right at the last moment.
And the thick load splurted out all over his own chest and face. Nowhere near where he would have liked to get it on… or in.
Lesson learned?
For now, maybe.
You weren't that cruel… you scooped up the whiteish liquid in your fingers and fed it to him.
That counted as cleanup.
Fine, he got a proper cuddle session and a short lecture about eating your clothes.
Didn't mean you knew about all the other stuff he had done before getting caught this one time.
In a limousine on your way to a risky business deal, the Chairman of EonCore Tech - your husband - is on his knees asking for your forgiveness.
1,021 words. fluff, light angst, late night conversations, kisses, f!reader, cross-posted on ao3
a/n: I cried writing this one. I miss Valko so much.
dividers by @saradika-graphics | ao3 link here
There is something so unbelievably charming about a man on his knees.
In front of you is your husband, the chairman of one of the most powerful corporations in all of Linkon, and he has your hand in his like it’s the only lifeline he can hold onto. You pretend not to notice the way his amber eyes look at you, nor do you succumb to the flame that burns within you at the sight of him in a three-piece suit. A man decorated in class and oozes intimidation would not be caught dead falling to his knees.
Except Valko, apparently.
“You’re wrinkling your suit,” you hiss when he shows no sign of sitting back down on the leather seats. There is comfort in every inch of this limousine, yet he chooses to kneel in front of you. “I don’t think you’d want to taint your public image.”
“I don’t care.”
You raise a brow at the unusual statement.
“I’ll be here until you forgive me.”
The tall skyscrapers that surround Linkon become your saving grace as you attempt to ignore his lips, which whisper apologies on your closed fists that can barely be heard above the soft music playing. However much you wish for those lips to touch places you would prefer to keep in the scenarios in your head is ignored, and instead, you turn your attention towards the life surrounding you.
Laughter erupts from a group of friends as ice cream melts on their hands. A couple holding grocery bags seems to be arguing about who should carry more, and in the end, the guy carries all of them in his hands and her pink purse hangs on his shoulder. A little dog shyly approaches another, their owners laughing at the blooming friendship.
Crazy how different your circumstances are compared to those around you.
“Sweetheart,” Valko says, and when you look at him, his eyes are similar to that shy dog you were just admiring. “Please, tell me what I can do so you can look at me again.”
“I am looking at you.”
His ears and cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and you resist the urge to follow its trail with your lips.
“Yeah, but not… not like this.”
You know exactly what he means, yet you continue your torture. “How do you want me to look at you, sweetheart?”
The nickname undoes him, and his hands move from your closed fist to your cheek in a bold retaliation. “Like this.”
You look away as fast as you can.
From the corner of your eye, however, you can see a smirk on Valko’s face that disappears as fast as it came. God, does he even know why you’re mad? Does he know why your heart rapidly beats as a scowl makes its way onto your expression?
Valko, disappointed by his short-lived victory, stays silent for a few seconds. You know him well enough to understand that this is him pondering, his head tilting to the side the way a puppy does when it’s confused.
Moonlight softens his features a little too well, leaving your defenses as nothing but crumbs.
His wedding ring sits warmly on your cheek as you look back at him again. There are nothing but questions in his eyes and acceptance in the way his thumb rubs against your cheek, careful not to smudge hours of makeup and anger.
That’s the thing about Valko: he’s very obvious when he wants something, and he is incapable of hiding that. But when he knows not to interfere, his presence continues to be loud in quieter ways.
He knows exactly how to love you.
Linkon’s skyscrapers begin to look less like shopping malls and more like your personal hell. Buildings with surnames of wealthy business owners hide the moonlight that previously softened your husband’s features, and it even stops you from being so stubborn.
“We’re close,” Valko points out, as though your stomach doesn’t churn from the fact.
“Then why are you still on your knees?”
“Because you haven’t forgiven me yet.”
You tap his nose as some sort of retaliation for his stubbornness, yet he takes it as a sign of victory. Valko’s smile shines even beneath the night’s darkness, reminding you of the reason you were annoyed in the first place.
“I don’t want today to be the last time I see you, Valko.”
He tilts his head again, this time looking more like an older dog whose utmost trust shines in its eyes. “What do you mean?”
“When you come home late with bruises i-in your arms, I…” Your voice breaks, yet you know fragility has no place in this part of Linkon. “I worry about you, that’s all. And since we’re on our way to another business deal…”
Valko understands the words that crumble into silence. As lovely and desirable the position seems, being chairman of one of the biggest corporations in the country poses dangers only seen by those who have been in the dark, and you know that better than anyone else does. Better than he does, because only when you tend to his wounds does he remember that his absence matters. That life can be beyond the danger he’s gotten used to.
“This one is safe, my love,” he assures you. “I’ve mapped every detail, every person, and every centimeter of the place. I know where to run if I need to.”
“And if… if you lose yourself in the process-”
“I won’t,” he says, defiant as devotion can be. “Not when I have you with me.”
You can only smile as you press your forehead against his, finally looking at him with the tenderness he so loves to receive from you. “Promise you won’t die tonight?”
“I promise, sweet girl.”
The last thing you do before the limo stops at your destination is to place your lips on his, letting him taste the worries you’ve harbored with every risky deal he does. The last thing you feel before you have to step off into the night is his utmost love, spilling onto your soul like no other.
a/n: I hope Valko comes back soon.
Thank you for reading! Any form of interaction is appreciated. Take care :)
pick your player! pro-gamer!Geto x roommate!Reader
pro-gamer!Geto who gets dumped for not making enough time for his girlfriend, forgetting to text her back during matches and cancelling plans last-minute when he gets sucked into a new game, and sure, maybe he knew he was being shitty, but he thought he could make it work once he moved in with her
pro-gamer!Geto who never thought the day would come where Gojo had a girlfriend and he didn't, but is now single and struggling to find a new lease on short-notice when half his stuff already in boxes and taking up space in a spare storage room at his best friend's place
pro-gamer!Geto who thinks he's found the perfect fit when Gojo's girlfriend suggests he moves in with her friend, who claims she's been looking for someone who minds their own business and keeps to themselves - with a little soundproofing, he could stream in peace
pro-gamer!Geto who realizes he was wrong two days after he signs the six-month lease
pro-gamer!Geto who can live with your shoes left haphazardly by the front door, can put up the dishes you forget in the dishwasher and move your clothes from the washing machine to the dryer, but thinks he might burst a blood vessel when you pop through his bedroom door in a tiny little tank top for the tenth time this month balancing a plate of mozzarella sticks and a can of soda in one hand, peering over his shoulder and squinting at the game on screen, oblivious to the fact you have once again derailed the entire chat and got him killed
pro-gamer!Geto who tries to explain to you that he appreciates the thought of you bringing him food but he's kind of in the middle of something just for you to laugh in his face and say it's not for him
pro-gamer!Geto who is dumbfounded when you stick one in his still-open mouth anyway, giggling to yourself and making a joke about him needing a life before slipping out the door and shutting it behind you
pro-gamer!Geto who definitely has a life, one that other people would probably even be envious of, a career he doesn't have to leave his room for, an online (cult) following, more sponsors and deals than he could ask for - so why does he feel like he has to prove it to you?
pro-gamer!Geto who invites you to sit and watch the next stream with him (because then, you'll have to see) just for you to decline, offering him a pout and a tilt of your head like you pitied him when you say maybe another time?
pro-gamer!Geto who pushes back his stream an hour just to linger in the living room, pretending to watch TV to see what you turned him down for
pro-gamer!Geto who doesn't realize his brow twitches, his frown deepens when you pop out of your bedroom in a dress that barely leaves anything to the imagination, only offering him a small wave that hardly acknowledges his presence before hurrying out to some girls night or what? a date?
pro-gamer!Geto who hates to admit you just might have a point
one two three | divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
