★ frat!sukuna fingering you in his room ★ hard fucking after missing you ★ slow riding him when he comes home ★ fucking you first thing in the morning ★ playing with your pussy while he’s deep in your throat ★ deep, mean strokes with sukuna
𑣲 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
★ riding him + him being obsessed with your tits ★ eating you out in your hotel room ★ going raw with satoru ★ grinding on his cock ★ satoru loves being extra close to you, even when he’s deep inside you ★ dumb on his cock, in a headlock
𑣲 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
★ fixing your bad day ★ slow fucking with suguru ★ pound town ★ giving you a well deserved creampie ★ bringing you back to his frat dorm after your first date ★ starting the day off right
𑣲 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
★ sneaking away to make out with your man ★ teasing you before giving you what you want ★ rough fuck with your husband ★ nanami being attentive to you ★ riding nanami’s face ★ he needs to fuck you, no matter what
𑣲 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
★ getting fucked in the wild ★ eating you out in his truck ★ coming back after a job to take care of you ★ fwb with toji ★ until you’re crying ★ fucked out just before bed
𑣲 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
★ taking care of a needy choso ★ riding gamer!choso ★ soft choso eating you out after a long day ★ eating you out after a long day ★ he loves to please his girl any time ★ choso loves sucking your tits & nipples
How can you ever tell the man who left you in a room full of broken glass and shattered dreams, the one who never looked back - that you're having his baby? Love was never enough to keep you two together, no it was enough to trap you both in a cycle of pain he finally ended.
Parings- CEO Suguru Geto x F! reader
Warnings -MDNI, pregnancy, heavy angst, toxic relationship, nasty break up, past infidelity, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort (for now), lost love, mutual pining. this chap - angst, dry humping, desperate/toxic Suguru, toxic reader tbh, messy dynamics, mentions of pregnancy, conflicting feelings.
<<<Part Five - Part six (you're here) - part seven (soon)
this sat in my drafts foreverrr so hi <3
To say that it was awkward at the gyno was the understatement of the fucking century, to have Suguru in the room while they’re slipping two fingers inside you to feel your cervix is the most uncomfortable feeling. Bright fluorescents overhead, feet up in stirrups, he’s so close you can inhale that pretentious cologne, the one you hate to admit you love.
Suguru always smells so good, pretentious man that he is, sitting in the chair across from you, eyeing his phone for a moment, before dark violet depths hit your face, and you just scowl at him. He smirks in that way he does, the way that makes you want to punch him in the fucking face.
And kiss him.
And ride his face.
Fuck him.
“You’re tiny,” the doctor says, concerned. “You may have a little trouble with traditional labor.”
Suguru snorts and you scowl at him.
“Sorry,” he’s not at all, remembering your cunt and just how tiny it is just makes him ache. “Is the baby big?”
“The baby is already quite long from those ultrasound measurements,” he presses deeper in you, making you wince with the pressure. “Your pelvis is small more than anything, we’ll try traditional labor first, but I’d expect a c section.”
“A c section?” You frown now, blinking a bit. “I want to have a natural labor.”
“We’ll see how that goes, just a concern. Everything else seems perfectly fine, no dilation yet. Any braxton hicks?”
“No, none yet.”
“Baby active?”
“Very,” you smile and touch your tummy, so beautiful even then that Suguru’s heart hammers in his chest, the way you so lovingly do it. Even the doctor smiles, slipping his hand off and taking off his gloves. “She’s a little hyper.”
“Caffiene intake?” He asks softly, washing his hands.
“A coffee every day, but I get so tired with work.”
“Hmm, one a day is okay, but that's probably why she’s a little hyped up,” he looks at Suguru now. “You must enjoy her kicking all the time.”
It’s quiet then, the both of you saying nothing.
Suguru felt it once and he doesn’t even know if you’ll let him touch your tummy again, to feel the little girl that’s going to be his daughter. He just plants on a bit of a tight smile, nodding. “I’m so busy with work, I feel like I'll never catch it.”
He plays it so easy, the way he lies as if everything is fine, you have to wonder how many times he did that with you.
You shouldn’t care anymore, it’s not like Suguru is yours or ever would be, even if he does choose to be involved in the life of his daughter, it doesn’t change the fact of what you feel. As badly as you fucking don’t want to, you think of it, of what he did to your heart that night, you can’t just forgive him.
“Maybe if financially you two can, take a little break, you’re only going to be pregnant for another few months you know,” the doctor pats your shoulder kindly now. “Our visits need to get more frequent, every two weeks, as I’m a little concerned about the possible complications with a bigger baby.”
You pause now, looking down at your tummy, hand rubbing it gently, the bump from your baby kicking and making you wince. “All right, so we’ll try for a normal and then…”
“We’ll at least try but I doubt it, just be realistic with it. Don’t worry, one in three pregnancies are a c section, okay?” You nod, and Suguru just stares at his hands.
He says nothing when you both walk out towards the front door, thinking of the fact that it’s that serious for you, his heart pounding in his chest, the limo is there and you’re already walking with your arms crossed. Suguru scoffs and grips your wrist, tugging you to him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands, teeth clenched.
“Walking.”
“Really?” You nod, glaring up at him so goddamn pretty. “Why, scared you’ll wanna cum again?”
“Fuck you.” You shove at him, but then you get a sharp kick, gasping out at the pain. “Shit…”
“Just calm down, yeah?” You sigh, hating him, but you know walking is fucking nonsense in your state, and you don’t even know where in town you are. “Come on.”
“Only because I don’t feel like walking,” you sit next to him in his pretentious limo, so quiet between you both. You look out the window, eyes looking out of the dark tinted window, shadows of things rushing across. Suguru’s hand brushes back a lock of your hair, and you smack his hand off. “Don’t.”
“Will you just… fuck you have to get cut open?!”
“Yeah, I know,” he frowns, his amethyst eyes narrowing, cupping your face and making you swallow nervously. “Don’t look at me that way.”
“Can I be worried?”
“No, you can’t be, I’m not yours. You didn’t want me.”
“I will always want you,” you shake your head, blinking back tears, hot and sticky falling down your cheeks, while Suguru leans down and puts a hand on your tummy. “I want you to be okay.”
“Almost have me believing you,” you tremble when he tilts your face up, thumb sweeping your lips he’d just kissed. “This act you pull, does it ever get old?”
“Does yours?” Your jaw sets, he feels the motion underneath his fingers.
“No act here.”
“You act like you don’t still love me,” you pause, and in that moment you hate him more, for the addictive way he tries to draw you back in, lips hovering an inch from yours. “I know you do, I could feel it when I kissed you.”
“So don’t kiss me,” you whisper back, breath tickling his lips, so beautiful with your glare and your tears. His lips brush against them, so you bite his lips hard, making him suck in a breath. “I’ll bite them off.”
“I’d let you if I could just kiss you.”
“Fuck you, Suguru Geto.” You shove him off you, even as your body craves him, needs him beyond anything.
You can’t do it, you can’t give in to him.
“I’m fucking scared, okay? I didn’t wanna hear that either, you with your big ass head and long legs. Daddy fucking long legs.”
Suguru bursts into laughter then, and you smack at him, shove at him, he’s laughing so hard he’s in tears, but you fight it, you fight your lips curling up. But when you see that real smile on his face?
Fuck it brings you back.
“The baby would be too big!” You’re mumbling, while he strokes your tummy after a night of pumping you so full. “You’re huge Suguru Geto.”
“So, you won’t have my babies huh?” He teases, grinning the way he does.
“Not with your big ass head!”
“Your head’s big too.”
“Hey!” He’d tickled you teasingly, making you wriggle as he moves his fingers, until he leaned over you, silky dark locks brushing your skin. You’d been dating only six months, it made no sense to talk this way.
But how could you not want it with him.
“If you don’t want one,” he drawls out the words nice and slow, before folding you in half. “Then why do you take my cock like this?”
The memory makes you heat up, pulse fluttering in your neck, watching that handsome face when he smiles like that, wondering just how long it’s been since you’ve seen it. Since before he made his millions and bough his fancy fucking penthouse, since before the two of you descended into the endless cycle of pain.
Yet at that moment Suguru was beautiful.
“A fucking daddy long legs?” He barely breathes it out, and you can’t help but laugh a bit too, shaking your head.
“It’s the only ‘daddy’ I’ll call you.”
“Oh yeah?” You nod, giggling and stopping yourself, the sound making his heart ache, melting for you and how pretty you look to him, the sight he never thought he’d see again.
And so he falls, all over for you, wondering how the fuck he ever was stupid enough to let you go.
How could he?
It was horrible and toxic, maybe it needed fixing, but he threw it all away, he left you completely and utterly, and now all he can think of is how to get you back to him, back in his arms. He kisses you again, before you stop laughing, feeling the smile against his lips, and you moan softly, leaning forward, his hand rests on your tummy, feeling her kick himi then.
He pulls back and studies you, eyes lidded with his long dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, kissing you again – tentative, curious, wondering if you’ll hit him like he deserves. But you don’t, you should, yet you kiss him back, straddling his thighs before you can think, tummy right in the way of course, his hands slipping down the curve of your waist.
“This is stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head, cunt already dripping against his bulge underneath those slacks. “We shouldn’t do it.”
“Even just fucking me?”
“You wish…” You roll your hips and your head falls to the side, for his hungry mouth.
You hate him, hate him, hate him.
“Fine,” he breathes out then, inhaling that scent that drives him insane, the one the fills his senses every night alone. “Use me to cum.”
Your core tenses at his desperate fucking words, when he rocks you down against him. “What!?”
“Mmm, let me eat your pussy and nothing else, fuck I’d be fine with just that.”
“Liar,” he’s kissing down your throat, your hands entangled in his hair, you drip down on him, whining out.
“I would do fucking anything to have you dripping down my throat,” he captures your lips again, tongue possessing your mouth, swallowing your sweet little cries and whines. “Fuck, listen to you…”
“Fuck you…” He smirks, big hands slipping down the swell of your breasts, when the baby kicks him.
You panic.
Choso was immediately uninterested, and you’re sure shallow ass, bougie ass Suguru would just recoil. But he just looks down at your tummy, kissing down a breast with his hot mouth, a hand resting where she kicks again. “Sorry…”
“Sorry for what?” He asks, still rocking you on him. “That’s my fucking baby inside you, yeah? Mine. Think it’ll stop me?”
He looks up at you, this damaged, toxic man, the one you want to hate more than you do – you don’t hate him enough, not when he looks like that. Not when he’s hard and thick against your cunt, when his big hands reverently caress your body, when he’s whispering your name.
Too easy to fall into.
To easy when you kiss him again – you kiss him, before yanking back, trying to gather any fucking wits you have left. Remember the horrible things he said, stay strong and hold yourself back, losing your mind underneath him and bent over for him, letting him fuck every sensible thought out of your head.
“Please use me.”
Fuck him for looking like that, for his eyes to be so dilated, for his lips to be glossy from kissing you, plump as he runs his tongue across.
“You want me to use you to cum?” You ask with a raised brow, his answer is a desperate moan, like it pains him to fucking admit it.
He nods.
The limo stops right in front of your home, as you awkwardly get off him, unsure just what the fuck happened, letting him ease you off him carefully, eyeing the slick mess you’ve dripped down his thighs. You nervously adjust your dress, heated up from him, fucked from his words.
“You’re even sexier,” you shake your head, blinking back tears. “You are, fuck you know I don’t just suck up for shit, I want you more than before.”
“You didn’t want me then, you let me go,” your words are true, your eyes swimming with your emotions. “What would change, wouldn’t we end up back where we were, back at the start? Fighting, killing each other, back to you cheating?”
Suguru scowls now. “I did not cheat.”
“It’s hard to believe you, with Manami there,” he shuts his eyes, taking a breath then. “I don’t know what this even is… that just happened.”
“It’s that you still love me,” you shake your head, when he cups your face, studying you. “You have your fun with your boy toy all you fucking want, yeah? I get it, I don’t blame you, but you know you don’t love him.”
You laugh without humour, slipping your jacket tighter around your body, trembling hands fidgeting with the buttons. “Do you love her?”
“Hah, you know the fucking answer,” you shake your head, jaw setting, teeth clenched together. “She doesn’t mean shit.”
“Then why did she stay around?”
To drown out the pain of losing you, to mindlessly fuck a girl who didn’t matter for shit, to piss you off because he loved making you mad.
Suguru knows he doesn’t deserve you, but nothing can stop him from clearly trying.
“I’m not fucking her anymore.”
You wish you didn’t enjoy to hear it.
“It’s not my business,” you shake your head and then take a breath. “Listen, we can try to… co-parent and get along. But we can’t just… fuck. You know we can’t only do that.”
“Because of your feelings?”
“Hah… no…” You open the door then, pausing just a moment to look at his desperate eyes. “I have to go shopping for the nursery if you…”
“I’ll be there.”
You’re surprised by his eagerness, by his hand touching your tummy one last time, the hurt and anger melding as you realize how badly you wish you could get your first love back. How this could be a beautiful experience, and not the madness that Suguru brings, the destruction he put.
Yeah, you did it too – you fought with him, you were as toxic as he was, you hurt him too, spit in his face before he fucked your brain away.
But to think of what could have been was the cruelest joke.
“Thank you for inviting me today, even though I know you wanna fucking stab me,” he murmurs, it sounds like the words are painful to even speak.
“You have no clue.”
You step out and leave him then, his hand touching the seat where it’s still warm from you, cursing and shutting his eyes, picturing you back on him, that sexy stomach and those fuller breasts… he wasn’t kidding when he said he wants you more. How can he not want you?
Manami is calling the phone, he looks for a moment, sighing.
He knows you’re fucking your boy toy – and usually he’d fuck right back on you, but now knowing all the years you hadn’t done a damn thing…
He ignores the call.
He deserves to wallow alone, and lay his head back, thinking of the girl you were when he first met you, and what he’s turned you into – argumentative, mean, fucking cruel to him as a response of what he put you through. The giggly, dreamy girl who laid with him in that broke down apartment with no heat, snuggled under the blankets so close with him.
The girl he promised the world to.
He loves her.
He lost her.
He doesn’t deserve her.
*****
“Come out tonight,” Choso asks you on the phone later, you hesitate then, knowing that what was going on with Suguru was a problem. “We’re going to party after the concert-”
“Choso I can’t party, I’m pregnant.”
“Well I’ll stay with you!” He offers, all sweet and adorable, you smile.
“We can hang out soon, I just don’t think my pregnant ass should be out at a concert, my ankles hurt and all the lame things.”
“Shit, okay…” He is quiet then, you know he’s younger and loves to go out, even before you got pregnant however, you were always a homebody.
You and Suguru would just lay there and read, lounge and drink coffee, make love on the balcony-
Stop thinking like that!
“Well I’ll miss you though!” He says, you sigh.
“Take some videos I wanna see what you wear.”
“For sure, I’ll pop some on IG.”
“Sounds good Choso, good night!”
“Night.”
You’re alone, later that evening, contemplating telling Choso about the kiss and… more with Suguru. No, not dating, but how could you not say anything? When you decide to message him, however, his IG stories pop up, him and all his friends at the concert, he’s adorable with his hair all done up in short, spiky pig tails, grinning all big.
You can’t help but feel affection for him, the sweetheart that he is, until you get to a particular story, and it’s him kissing a girl, laughing before he asks them to shut off the camera, clearly drunk.
Well.
You hurriedly shut the phone off – you can’t be mad, not at all, but you suppose seeing him kissing a girl probably not old enough to drink and rail thin when you’re pregnant and feeling like a damn whale stings. You notice it’s deleted when you go back to it, as if he’s already caught the accidental upload.
It’s really hypocritical to care, so you shove that down, trying your best to avoid the inevitable fact when you touch yourself later in your bed.
That you’re thinking about fucking Suguru Geto.
God you hate how he invades your mind.
*****
“Morning!” Choso shows up for coffee all tired and hungover, you smile sweetly and hand him one.
“Your favorite.”
“Thank you pretty,” he kisses your cheek, still reeking of vodka a bit even though he’s clearly showered. “How was your night?”
“It was okay… um… Choso…”
“Mhm?”
Your eyes meet his as you sit across from him at the little cafe table, it’s a gentle morning with a soft breeze blowing around you both. “I don’t expect exclusivity at all, but would you… tell me if you fucked someone, just because I have to be safe being pregnant and…”
“Oh shit,” he wipes a hand over his face then, shaking his head. “You saw.”
“It’s fine, like seriously it’s cool. Just we haven’t used…”
“Right, no I just made out and stuff, I didn’t go that far. Just you when it comes to sex for months.”
“Okay, I really appreciate the honesty.”
“You’re… not mad?” He asks, brows together, you shake your head.
“I can’t be, just if something does happen, a little notice so we can use protection instead?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t risk that,” he puts a hand on yours now. “You’re way too cool about everything, I love that.”
“Yeah well I have had enough stress I suppose. Now, you look hungover as shit, want breakfast?”
“Please,” he scoots closer, touching your cheek, dark violet eyes glittering as he smiles. “You’re just glowing, look at you.”
You wish you believed him, but you’ve been too hurt, too rejected, taking a little breath and putting your hand on his. “Thank you, that’s sweet.”
He kisses you, and something just…
Doesn’t click.
Fucking Suguru and his toxic lips ruining your mind, you can damn near see his cruel, mean ass smirk on that face, knowing he infected your mind.
*****
Suguru’s not smirking when you see him to go shop for the baby the next week – no, he longs pale, drawn, exhausted, to the point you’re a little concerned, steps faltering near him. You halt and he just eyes you in this way that breaks your heart, looking like he hasn’t slept the entirety of the time apart.
Well, he hasn’t.
He won’t say that though, he just sips his coffee and nods at you, this time he’s got a car instead of a limo, leaning against it when you walk out. “You’re driving? Shocker.”
“Yeah, I do still sometimes,” he opens the door, you slide in. He leans over to seatbelt you, something he used to do so long ago, stretching it over your tummy carefully. He looks up at you, lips too close, you can see the dark circles and puffiness under his eyes.
“Seatbelting me?” You ask then, clearing your throat.
“Well you and her…” Your heart flutters.
You hate that.
He’s next to you, driving, and it’s quiet, the two of you just riding in silence, veins in his forearm and hand flexing and pressing up as he clenches the wheel too tight. He keeps looking at you, so beautiful the more your tummy grows, depressed and miserable that he misses it all, that he sees you so little.
That it’s all his fault.
You look at him now, hands gripping your purse nervously. “You look like shit, Suguru.”
“Yeah…”
It’s quiet again.
Why do you still care like this?
Why does the way he looks right at you mean more than anybody, even fucking knowing he’s horrible, knowing all he’s done? Why does it feel better in the car next to him than it has alone all this time?
You touch your tummy contemplatively, wondering just what to fucking do with your life, and with your future.
You can’t make a decision for just you anymore.
Patreon for more exclusive fics - Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass🍷
you left him before. can you leave him again with a baby on the way?
synopsis: divorcing a stubborn dickhead like Ryomen Sukuna was probably the most difficult thing you ever had to do. but what were you supposed to do when your husband had practically become a stranger considering most days he spent more time at work than he did at home? and when he was home, half the time he'd rather sleep on the couch than in your bed? you didn't hate him. but you didn't love him anymore either. maybe you would have moved on. but when one last night together ends up with more than just a memory after you get two little lines on a pregnancy test, you discover you might not be able to get rid of him after all.
pairing: ex-husband!sukuna x pregnant!reader (also featuring best friend!geto)
content: mdni, smut and angst, some domestic fluff, divorced-to-remarried, complicated relationships, messy feelings, accidental pregnancy, pregnancy sex, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral sex, pining, so much regret, misunderstandings, breaking up and making up, gruff and grumpy sukuna who misses his wife, soft geto trying to steal her from him, more tags in individual chapters
a/n: lovely art by @winterrbluess !! part of my community event <3
YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟑:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, breast milk kink, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, minor smut, mentions of cheating, dissociative fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, it gets steamer in this chapter, cat and mouse dynamics, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi and yuji, family dynamics.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟏𝟓.𝟕𝐤
⟢ episode list: m.list
⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track.
⟢ director's note: e3 is finally here!! sorry it's literally been a whole ass year lol. i hope it's worth the wait as it's more words than p1+p2 combined lol. lots of things happening in this chapter and it gets pretty steamy ;)
"FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS RING!"
The wide glass pane rattles in its frame as you slam the balcony door open.
Across the gap, Toji retreats into the shadows. Dropping his cigarette low by his hip to remain unnoticed.
Although, he probably didn’t need to move at all—seeing as how the fury fueled determination etched across your beautiful features has you looking like a woman on a mission.
With a small cry, you hurl a tiny gold object Toji can only assume is an engagement ring over the edge—the jeweled metal glinting in the moonlight a brief second before vanishing into the darkness.
Atta girl, mamas.
Toji knew you wouldn’t go through with it.
Marrying Sukuna—you couldn’t.
Proof that the seeds of doubt Toji planted in your heart were sprouting rather nicely.
And if Toji got his way, he’d soon plant his seeds in other places inside of you too.
Nevertheless, the end result is all the same to Toji.
Even a rash decision like you eloping with Sukuna couldn’t stop Toji now—though it would complicate things should he make good on his promise to put a bullet in Sukuna if necessary.
But until that time comes, Toji will continue playing his cards slow and steady.
Good things come to those who wait right?
The delicate balance of events, taking his time over the last 3 months, had proven necessary.
Your fate wasn’t just in his hands alone after all. It also—
“THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO WOMAN!?”
Severing Toji’s thoughts, Sukuna's voice thundered from inside of the condo, his ire penetrating every word like a dagger.
Retreating back inside, the balcony door is left wide open in your wake as your voices echo into the night.
Toji is sure the whole fuckin’ neighborhood hears your fight at this point.
“RECIPROCIATING ENERGY, RYO! YOU WANNA DOG ME THE FUCK OUT!? THEN YOU SHOULDN’T MIND PLAYING FETCH!”
Toji chuckles, you may not be an assassin, but your slick ass mouth certainly could fire enough shots to be deemed a deadly weapon—something he has first hand knowledge of thanks to your last encounter.
In the past, Toji often wondered how Yuji—despite having a front-row seat to your and Sukuna’s constant bickering—remained such a cheerful, boisterous kid.
“GODDAMN IT! Crazy ass woman, that’s ¥3,500,000 you just fucked away!”
However, it wasn’t until recently that Toji discovered the noise-canceling headphones you bought for Yuji—the kind designed for babies at loud events—shielding him from his parents' arguments, keeping him blissfully unaware.
“OH LIKE YOU FUCKED AWAY OUR FUTURE BY GETTING ANOTHER WOMAN PREGNANT…THEN HAD THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO SUGGEST BOTH OF US LIVE WITH YOU IN ITALY LIKE WE’RE GODDAMN SISTERWIVES?!”
Toji muses. With him, those headphones will become unnecessary.
He’d never give you the need to have an argument like this with him.
Precisely because he’d never even look at another woman again if he had you.
Toji wants nothing outside of you as his wife.
He also knows it’s what you want too, deep down—even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.
You were so close to doing so last time though, admitting it to both yourself and to Toji—tsk, but you ran.
Exactly two weeks had passed since then though, and in that time he’s barely seen you.
You’ve been dodging him.
Groceries delivered to your door and your mail brought up by the concierge.
The only interactions between you two as of late are those fake-polite, rushed smiles—the kind you give someone you’d rather not talk to when you just so happen to cross paths.
Not that any of his run-ins with you ever just so happen.
Of course, you have no clue the building’s security cameras are synced to his phone.
But the most unforgivable part?
You miss playdates.
Fuck—after all those weeks of letting Megumi and Yuji play together like the brothers they’d soon become too.
Toji’s patience has nearly reached its limits, but he knows you just need time to catch up to what he can plainly see coming.
To what is inevitable.
You damn near fell for him right then and there that night.
Toji takes you not informing Sukuna of what happened last time Toji saw you as a good sign.
Sukuna would have tried to kill Toji himself had you told.
Although it's a given that Sukuna will catch on eventually, Toji expects it will be far too late by then to do anything about what’s already been set in motion.
Chain-smoking, Toji flicks away a cigarette butt only to light another as his thoughts effortlessly drift back to that decisive encounter two weeks ago.
⟡
Toji returned home late that night to The Nursery. One hand kneaded the knots in the back of his neck while the other braced against the wall, steadying himself as he kicked off his oxfords in the entryway—half-laced and haphazard, just like his thoughts.
Exhaling hard, he cursed. His age was showing.
A younger version of him wouldn’t have even yawned at that hour—even after being up for nearly two days straight.
Yet, with the organization in disarray, Toji felt the weariness of pointless conflict. Especially since he’d been given the “honor” of playing a glorified elderly caretaker for the big boss in the form of a bodyguard.
Who would’ve thought the assassination of an executive—overseas, in Italy no less—could stir so much shit back in Japan?
But three months in and zero results to show, outside involvement had been officially ruled out.
The inner organization subsequently appeared weakened.
Power struggles had begun to boil, and the internal war Toji had long dreaded was no longer hypothetical.
It was imminent.
While others took this opportunity to curry favor or stage power plays, Toji only sees it for what it is—a pain in the ass.
All it amounted to was wasted hours that could’ve been spent making you his.
Toji missed your presence, your laugh.
You no longer flinched when he got too close, when his shoulder would brush against yours or when his hand would press against the small of your back in passing.
You saw him as dependable, even dare he say—gentle.
The kind of man who could be a good father and husband.
Toji snorted.
Well, better than Sukuna at any damn rate and that’s all that really mattered.
Yet those interactions were brief when you’d pick up or drop off Yuji from a playdate.
You never lingered too long though and Toji couldn’t risk keeping you and having Sukuna catch on and retaliate again—fucking you just to prove a point.
Even though Toji knew you were on birth control from tracking the pharmacy deliveries—the thought of you accidentally having Sukuna’s kid again before his own makes his blood boil.
Nevertheless, Toji made plans to see you that night.
Well—his own plans. You didn’t know about them yet.
Toji knew for a fact that Sukuna had been suddenly occupied that night—his contact had given him those assurances, and he expected you to be alone with the kids.
What Toji didn’t anticipate though was to see you in his condo when he walked through the hallway and into the living room.
Like some kinda divine intervention delivered you to him personally.
Sarcastically blowing a kiss to the sky, Toji would give the credit to whatever God that wanted it.
A sight for sore eyes, you instantly energized Toji, grounding something restless in him. He took his time loosening his tie as he made his way towards you, savoring the view: you fast asleep on the sofa with Megumi and Yuji nestled against you.
His chest warmed at the sight of Megumi’s tiny fist curled tightly around the fabric of your dress—even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. Toji exhaled slow, chest tight with something damn near primal—because the kid wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
The soft glow of the TV flickered, playing My Neighbor Totoro on a low volume and casting a comforting light around the dimly lit room.
How sweet—did you all stay up as long as you could waiting for ‘daddy’ to come home?
His vision so close to being reality, he could taste it.
Close enough to really get a good look at you, Toji’s eyes roamed over your relaxed features, taking in all the little details. Your slightly disheveled hair and smudged makeup only added to your allure somehow.
Although, too done up for just a playdate. It was clear to Toji you were meant to be somewhere else that night before Sukuna had been preoccupied.
The elegant black plunge-neck gown you wore elevated your soft curves in all the right ways. Especially in your sleep as the silky straps slipped off your shoulders, seductively baring most of your breasts and the diamond-drop necklace nestled between them.
Well, they would be barred—if not for the two boys snuggled against your chest covering them up, the tiny milk rings on their mouths evidence of their satisfaction.
Heh, so even Megumi had gotten a sip directly from your sweet tits before him?
Lucky little bastard.
Not that Toji hadn’t tried your milk before, well—indirectly.
After Megumi’s mother passed, he’d refused formula, surviving off of hospital donations. But when the nanny mentioned a hospital shortage, you offered your extra supply without a second thought. You already were already dumping a wasteful amount thanks to Yuji’s hearty appetite, your overactive mommy milkers had plenty to spare.
Toji’s freezer was overflowing with bags of your sweet overstock.
Too damn kind for your own good, ma.
Admittedly, the more Toji thought of your selfless donation, the harder the brick-like urge hit him to taste the creamy delicacy.
And like the fiend he is, Toji was hooked from the first drip of bottle-warmed breast milk onto his tongue. Toji had to suppress a deep groan from gurgling up his throat at the taste.
A good thing Megumi’s nanny walked in when she did or he’d have been tempted to down the whole damn bottle.
After that Toji made a habit out of “testing” Megumi’s bottles, always indulging in a few stolen sips. He reasoned it’s better to put on his tongue than waste a single precious drop on his forearm.
But soon, Toji would fix that.
He’d gorge on his fill—directly from the source.
Tearing his gaze away from your chest, Toji’s eyes trailed lower, lingering on your fleshy hips exposed by the high-cut slits of your dress. The airy fabric bunched between your legs, inguinal crease exposed and tempting him as it revealed damn near everything but your pussy lips.
Toji couldn’t confirm back at the grocery store, but you definitely did not have panties on that night.
Still… The idea of you dressing up like a doll in something expensive—looking as fuckin’ drop dead gorgeous as you did—just to sit across from that smug bastard Sukuna, left Toji’s jaw clenching.
Especially when you got yourself all dolled up and went through all that effort for a man who didn’t even bother to show.
Toji didn’t need to hear the soft sniffs woven between your shallow snores to know you’d been crying. The faint darkness under your eyes, the puffiness in your cheeks were fresh. He’d know as he’d memorized every detail of how you looked over these past few months.
But fuck Sukuna, because now you were on his sofa, waiting for him.
Feeling a wave of conflicting emotions overtake him, Toji was unsure if he wanted to palm the heavy chub forming in his slacks at your disheveled state or snap a photo of you to commemorate the moment of just how perfect you looked holding the kids, like you were Megumi’s mother too.
Heh, a video would probably be best… he could jerk off later…two birds, one stone…
Eh, on second thought, maybe he could even slightly nudge Megumi's head out of the way and get a full glimpse of those fat puffy areolas of yours.
“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
A heavy, yet feminine voice oozed with amusement from the shadows. With her comes a proverbial storm cloud raining over the erotic yet wholesome image of you Toji had formed in his mind.
Nevertheless, Toji’s no top assassin for nothing—his gun spun out and leveled, silencer in place, before the tall, raven-haired woman’s words even finished echoing down the hall.
Toji gritted—The Nursery whore you befriended.
Fuck, she’d been in here the entire time and he hadn’t noticed.
If she were anyone else, Toji would have thought he’d been getting rusty…
Tsk—why did you have to go and make fucking friends with a bitch like her?
“I hate to admit it, but I see the appeal—I mean, if you aren’t being too picky, I suppose.”
Your friend simpered.
Clad in a lacquer-tight red mini-dress, she clicked across the hardwood, matte-black nails raised in mock surrender—her heels and haughty strut a loud declaration of audacity, disrespect, and complete disregard for Toji’s home.
“Easy tiger…wouldn’t want to wake their precious sleep, no?”
Toji didn’t lower the gun. He didn’t even speak.
Not intimidated in the least, your friend sauntered closer, hips swaying deliberately.
Defiantly, she leaned, centering the barrel perfectly between her tits. There’s a sick glint in her eyes like she gets off on the sensation of death pressed against her sternum.
“Go ahead, Fushiguro. I dare you.”
With no fear she grabbed Toji’s wrist, slowly dragging the barrel beneath her chin.
The stare down is intense.
Fucking crazy ass bitch belongs in a padded cell.
Yet Toji was the one with everything to lose and after what seemed like ages he finally broke the silence, gritting the words out as not to wake you.
“Are you fucking stupid? I told you to stay the fuck away from me…. and her.”
His head tipped to you, and your friend’s eyes narrowed with venom.
“I know I don’t need to remind you, Fushiguro—but I can go anywhere in this building I damn well please.”
Anger flashes in Toji’s eyes. If looks could kill, Toji surely would have repainted the living room with her blood.
“Ha! Don’t tell me you're serious! Oh, puh-lease Fushigro!”
Snorting the woman eyed Toji like he’s a sulking child prone to theatrics.
“C’mon. I was just checking in on our little mama, hm? Poor thing got stood up after all. Then had to come n’ play nanny after yours had a lil ‘accident’—but you wouldn’t know anything about that right, hm?”
Ignoring her annoying ass prattling, Toji muttered a string of curses before reholstering his pistol with a reluctant clink.
Your friend simply giggled, unceremoniously dropping onto the sofa beside you—nestling into the spot that should have been his.
Fuckin’ bitch.
Toji couldn’t stand the way she looked at you.
Like she was deciding what kind of game she’d play with you as you stirred in your sleep.
This is why Toji warned you not to make friends here… and of all the whores in this building too.
Not that you know who she really is—she plays a role well, when she wants.
Anxious, Toji’s other hand twitched at his side.
Although his gun is lowered, his killer instincts are still gnawing at him to ‘neutralize the threat’.
It wouldn’t take but a moment to slide the blade from his pocket and chuck it straight between her eyes while the bitch dared to brush your baby hairs back with mock affection.
Toji wouldn’t miss, yet wouldn’t dare risk it while you were so close.
"Touch her again and I’ll take your fucking hand off—that’s a promise."
Toji’s protectful gaze shifted to you,then to the boys—both still asleep and cuddled into your warmth like tiny animals burrowed-in for safety.
Your friend didn’t respond, only leaned back and exhaled a dreamy little sigh, letting her hand drift dangerously close to Yuji now.
Toji sneered, a loophole since he clearly told her not to touch you, yet before Toji can say more, that’s when you finally began to stir.
Call it mother’s intuition at a sign of danger or whatever the fuck, but Toji was thankful for it nonetheless as the woman pulled back with a frown.
A haze of exhaustion clouded your features, but you still identified Toji through your disorientation, blinking your sleep away.
“F-F-Fushiguro… you’re—*yawns* back?”
Toji didn’t answer immediately, simultaneously realizing he still had the pistol in his hand and holstering it behind his back in a swift fluid motion.
“Yeah, ma. I’m home.”
Toji’s reply is clipped but he’s focused on suppressing the scowl on his face before you realize something is wrong.
“I—I’m sorry. I know it must be a bit of a shock to see us here, but I scheduled a playdate with the nanny last minute so, me and Su—um, well…uh, so I could go out. But then she cut her hand and had to rush to the hospital…”
Toji tensed watching you fumble over your explanation, catching yourself before you mentioned Sukuna—why?
“—and I came to help!”
Interjecting with a bright smile that Toji saw straight through, your friend plucked Yuji out of your arms, bouncing him on her knee.
“Couldn’t let her handle this all alone after the night she’s had, so I came to help with lil’ Yu-Yu!”
Toji watched as Yuji squirms, fussing as he’s clearly not a fan of the nickname given to him either. Smart kid.
You, on the other hand, were too frazzled to notice—cheeks burning as you finally registered just how exposed you were. Tugging your dress down and smoothing your hair in flustered strokes, you multitasked with as much grace as you could, all while gently rocking Megumi to keep him from waking.
“What a horrible accident, all that blood too! Although nothing Ji-Ji would ever bat an eye at.”
Nothing that bitch would fuckin’ bat an eye at either, but Toji couldn’t be concerned with that when he could practically see the phantom question marks pop over your head as a revelation sinks in.
“Oh, um…but you two know each other?”
Your attempts to ask casually might have fooled less astute individuals but your true question is obvious.
Motherfucker.
Given his less-than-stellar reputation around The Nursery, Toji could already picture the conclusions you were jumping to.
“I didn’t realize…”
Your friend's smarmy smile made Toji’s skin crawl.
“Who, Ji-Ji?”
She cooed obnoxiously at Toji in the same sickly sweet tone she used with Yuji.
“We go way back.”
Your friend flipped her long raven hair and laughed.
“We practically grew up together! Didn’t we, Ji-Ji?”
If Toji’s jaw got any tighter his teeth might’ve cracked.
“Yeah—sumthin’ like that.”
Toji wanted to leave it there and not elaborate—truthfully there was nothing to even elaborate on—but the way you looked between them, he knew you likely assumed the worst.
Fuck…there’s no getting around this now.
“Tch, she’s the big boss’s daughter.”
Toji revealed as his eyes meet yours.
Damn—he should have warned you when you told him about her at the grocery store.
Yet he thought it was too suspicious and couldn’t risk you misinterpreting it as him being controlling—what with your uber controlled relationship with Sukuna completely on his terms.
And given how you reacted to him paying for your groceries? Toji didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know he would have crashed and burned that landing.
“Illegitimate daughter—yet still a legitimate pain in my ass after all these years.”
Toji’s voice stays flat, offering no affection for your friend—now revealed to be the boss’s daughter. Toji knew she had no designs on him other than to be a nuisance, so he didn’t bother sparing her feelings.
His focus stayed on you, watching as your brows knitted, struggling to process the flood of information hitting all at once.
“Oh, don’t be like that Ji-Ji, we used to be so close before I moved to Italy!”
She winked, but Toji ignored it, outwardly unmoved but inside he was raging.
She was simply toying with you for sport—no other reason for her to be here.
Ultimately he didn’t fuckin’ care whose daughter she was or how long he’d known her for—if she tried to stand in his way when it came to you, he’d deal with her.
“Psh, ya n’ haven’t seen or heard from ya in fuckin’ years…”
Toji scoffed, making his way to the bar cart on the other side of the room. He needed to occupy his hands with something, less he did something explosive like actually put a bullet in the yakuza slut’s skull.
“Aw, don’t act like a stranger now. It's only been two years and we recently reconnected, haven't we?”
Glass clinking against wood and the sound of dark liquor pouring were the only answers she received as Toji downed the fiery substance like medicine.
That much is true—Toji had known her for years, and it'd been two years since she’s been away—but their relationship was nothing like she was inferring it to be.
There weren’t many kids actually a part of the yakuza and not coddled in traditional homes or outside of The Nursery. Of course they knew each other. Honestly as both the bosses’ daughter and being completely batshit herself, Toji kept his distance from her unless absolutely necessary—even as a child.
An awkward silence ensued, the accusation lingering thickly as all eyes in the room were on Toji.
The tension was palpable, but Toji simply swirled a newly poured glass of whiskey, smelling it briefly before chugging it down and pouring another.
Toji’s only viable answer was a non-answer—he wouldn’t fall into her trap.
“Huh… a yakuza boss' daughter…”
After a few minutes, you found your voice and attempted to ease the strain saturating the room, your attention back on your friend.
“Well, I guess that also explains why the other women here now avoid me entirely since they’ve seen me with you.”
‘Yeah cause she’s the most fucking insane of the bunch.’ Toji wants to say, but he was well aware of the catch-22 he was in.
There wasn’t much he could get away with at the moment without looking even more guilty for knowing her and not mentioning it, especially since you’d probably try to play it off as none of your business.
Presently, this is the only moment in Toji’s long life of sin he has ever rued his slutty reputation.
“Power has its privileges, my love~!”
Your friend sing-songed, and she looked as if she was about to launch into a particularly annoying self-serving monologue before a loud ding interrupted her.
Yuji continued to squirm in her arms as she rummaged through her matching red clutch until she found her phone.
“Ah ha! That’s my fiancé texting me! He sent a car for me—he just can’t stay away”
Likewise Toji, in considering himself your future husband, couldn’t keep his eyes from you. Not paying the boss's daughter any mind as he took note of the way your face crumbled at the mention of fiancé.
Fiancé…ya gotta be fucking kidding.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
She noticed it too—your friend’s condensing comfort confirming Toji’s suspicions.
Consequently, Toji forced himself to ease up on the empty glass of whiskey he held, lest he crush it under his grip—because then he knew.
So is that what the hell tonight was supposed to be about—you being all dolled up?
Did that motherfucker Sukuna actually propose to you?
Or did the asshole simply promise you he’d marry you—stringing you along again and throwing just enough scraps—to state you…to keep you imprisoned in his orbit.
Fiancé or husband though—it didn’t fuckin’ matter.
Sukuna could slap any title he wanted on you—you’d still be Toji’s in the end.
“Now, now. Don’t be sad, angel. You’ll find the right one meant for you—we all do eventually. You know, I’d think you’d fare better with a nice salaryman than a yakuza.”
It was crystal fucking clear the bitch was patronizing you, yet you still tried to give your ‘friend’ a genuine smile.
Shit, you must be particularly hard-up for company if you’re willing to humor a bitch like her.
The boss’s daughter always loved her games and how blatantly tactless she could be once one of her cards had been revealed.
But she wasn’t sitting at a table where she could win here.
Toji wasn’t about to let anyone else dictate how this would play out when it came to you.
Right then, Yuji began to cry in full force and Toji moved before you could, lifting Megumi into his arms and clearing the way without a word—forcing your friend’s hand.
Your friend rolled her eyes at Yuji's tantrum, plopping him back into your lap and brushing off her palms as if he left something on her.
It’s clear the boss's daughter has zero maternal bones in her body the way Yuji quiets once he’s back in your arms where he belonged.
“Welp, off I go! He has a bit of a temper and hates when I keep him waiting, ya know~ciao bella!”
She blew a kiss to the room and sauntered out like a queen off to better things than toiling around with mere subjects.
The door slammed shut behind her.
In her absence the leftover tension clung to the air like humidity. Toji cursed the heavy revelations she stirred up and left for the two of you to choke on.
Your friend who you now know to be the illegitimate daughter of a yakuza boss—also Toji’s childhood acquaintance.
And Sukuna’s proposal… or just the promise of one?
Fuck.
How did the perfect situation Toji walk into turn into this mess?! He didn’t think Sukuna would be so desperate to keep you as to propose.
Your sigh caught Toji’s attention.
Tsk, Toji resents them both—your “friend” for toying with you and Sukuna for building up your hopes to something he could never be for you—something that Toji could fulfill so much better.
“You know…She’s..She’s been kind overall, even if she can be a lot.”
Your gaze stayed fixed on the door, shoulders slumping under the weight of not only being stood up but mocked.
It pissed Toji off—so he said the only thing he could. He’s not good with words, but he could at least give you honesty.
“She’s a cunt.”
You quickly shot Toji an admonishing look as if you were about to tell him to ‘watch his mouth in front of the kids’, yet you relaxed once you realized both kids were knocked out again.
“Yeah, but I can’t deny she’s looked after me, getting those other women off my back without expecting anything in return—”
Mama, you had no fuckin’ idea what she expects. But Toji kept that to himself for now.
“Fuck her, ma.”
You rolled your eyes, continuing.
“—and while it hurts to hear, she’s right about Sukuna.”
“Yeah? Well, fuck him too.”
You snorted sharply at that, no longer able to hide your amusement at Toji’s overt bluntness.
“Ha! Now, that’s no good either—how do you think I got stuck with him in the first damn place, Fushiguro?”
Toji couldn’t stop the devilish grin that formed at seeing a bit of your fire return.
“It’s Toji, ma...”
You threw him some side eye before conceding with a small laugh—bright and genuine, and for a brief moment it looked as if you had another slick comeback prepared, but then your face fell back somber.
Truly, Toji was hanging on by a fuckin’ thread not going on a suicide mission to take down the whole damn organization. None of them deserved to even know you.
“I don’t know, everything has been so different since becoming a mom—I’m different.”
Confiding in Toji, you softly smooth down Yuji’s hair.
“Perhaps if I looked that good in a mini dress again…I used to wear stuff like that all the time, but Sukuna thinks it's too revealing now…even this dress he’d probably think is too much.”
You trailed off, and there was a beat of silence before Toji spoke, he’d been successful at calming himself about your supposed engagement, but your admission of Sukuna and that whore making you insecure when you were so fucking perfect was making him murderous.
“Look at me.”
The authority in his voice startled you but Toji didn’t regret it, he needed to ensure you heard him on this.
“Ya look fuckin’ beautiful tonight, mama. Better than any woman in this building, all of fuckin’ Tokyo. Motherhood, when y’er meant to be one, when y’er good at it—is sexy on it’s own…”
Toji paused, and the weight of his smolder made you shift in your seat.
“...and y’er damned good at it ma.”
Your eyes widen and a deep flush sweeps over your body.
Toji almost thought he said the wrong thing again until your smile returned as you lightly chewed your lip—unable to mumble out anything but a small ‘thanks’ before quickly shifting your focus to check if Yuji needed a diaper change.
Toji’s chest puffed in pride. For all his scheming, in the moment he simply spoke his truth.
If anything you should be wearing less—well, if he had any say in it you’d be wearing nothing at all right now.
“Heh ya know mama, you doll up real nice. Be a real shame to take it all off without having dinner first…”
Toji casually stepped forward, looming over you until you were forced to look away from Yuji and up at him.
“So how bout it? I’ll cook.”
You looked at Toji like he sprouted two more heads.
“You? Cook?!”
You were looking at him like you didn’t think he could even boil water.
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done.. ‘sides you deserve it, eh?”
Toji loves how your eyes sparkled, even if you tried to reign it in after a few moments.
Just say yes.
“Tsk, I know this isn’t the night ya wanted but… y’er the only other person I trust with Gumi. This is just my way of sayin’ thanks.”
Toji rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool—but when your face lit up, unabashed this time, he couldn't help but grin too.
“Well, okay, yeah I am a bit hungry now that you mention it…but I’m at least supervising! I’m not sure if I trust you just yet in the kitchen, Fushiguro.”
“Ya got it and—it’s Toji, ma.”
The decision was quick—Toji would cook dinner, and you’dl finally make good on your promise of matcha brownies.
As much as he hated the boss’s daughter barging in, Toji couldn’t deny that her interruption left you more willing to stay—more open to letting him salvage the night.Rough beginnings to be sure, but Toji wasn’t about to let this opportunity for a ‘first date’ pass nonetheless.
“Ya can put Yuji in Megumi’s crib. Plenty room.”
You nodded, adjusted Yuji in your arms, and followed Toji into the hall. Toji slowed to your pace, matching your small strides so you could keep up. There was something wholly familiar about you both walking like this to Megumi’s room, and an intense flash of deja vu triggered in his mind.
He’s in a house. It’s homey, well lived in.
The air smells of simple comforts like miso and laundry softener.
Megumi and Yuji are clonked out on the floor. The cushy living room rug being an impromptu bed as the two caused utter mayhem until they tired themselves out.
You step past Toji as you bend down to pick up Megumi and in turn he holds Yuji, a large protective hand on his back. Somehow it’s too easy to have love for the boisterous little boy who has all the best parts of you.
Walking into the children’s bedroom there’s a lone crib there. Too big for any of the boys but it's not meant for them.
There’s another baby, already tucked away asleep.
Toji steps closer to get a better look...
The vision ended there, leaving him standing in front of Megumi’s crib—empty.
Toji closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the sight, yet the last remnants were gone and he’s ushered back into reality. You brushed past him, laying Yuji in Megumi’s crib. Swaddling Yuji’s sides with the blanket, you plant a kiss on the forehead. His tiny fists twitched once, then went slack—out like a light.
Following your lead, Toji places Megumi on the opposite end,Yet to no surprise to Toji, Megumi's small face scrunches in protest, a fuss well on its way to starting.
Shit kid usually has a pacifier or something when he sleeps, huh?
Toji turned to a nearby nightstand but to his surprise, you were already on it.
“Shhh, baby... I know.” Murmuring sweetly, you brushed the spikey hairs from Megumi’s face. “...rest easy now.”
The floor creaked as Toji leaned in to appraise the gentle way you rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, pacified, but your touch quickly sank him into a peaceful slumber before it was no longer needed.Toji hummed, pleased, and he placed Megumi’s binky into the crib. A simple, routine motion—until your fingers gently curled around his wrist.
The contact was only meant to steady yourself as you leaned to kiss Megumi’s temple, but to Toji, it was anything but insignificant.
His arm tingled under your soft grip, the faintest brush of your thumb skating across the inside of his wrist. It was unconscious. Familiar. The kind of touch given by someone who expected you to be there—who didn’t doubt your presence.
And fuck, maybe that’s what undoes him most.
You didn’t even realize what you did. He stayed silent, struck dumb as your hand slipped away, returning to the crib to tuck Megumi’s blanket tighter under his chin like nothing happened. But Toji was still reeling, the heat of your touch lingering like a brand.
“There! All tucked in… g’nite, sweet babies,”
Your voice was full of warmth as you turned around, only to collide into Toji’s chest.
He hadn’t moved. Not an inch since your hand left his.
“Oh, I’m—”
The apology faltered on your tongue when you realized just how close the two of you were—so close you had to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.
Your gaze, wide and shimmering with caution. Not quite matching the way your lips part instinctively like your body already made a decision your brain scrambled to rationalize.
The air hummed between you both, a current of electricity that had every nerve in Toji coiled tight. They screamed at him to pounce, because goddamn if he didn’t want to kiss you—slide his tongue into the depths of your mouth and finally taste you. To make you gag on every last bit of longing he’s been holding in all this time.
His instincts told him you’d let him too.
Did you both share the same dreamy domesticated deja vu?
Did you think of him and Megumi as yours already?
Close enough to smell you, the sweet intoxicating florals of your perfumed scent swirled around his senses, tempting him like a siren call.
If Toji took one step forward, he could pin you between the crib.
Be that as it may, Toji’s astute perception also alerted him to how desperately you grasped the railing of the crib. Terrified of your own desires, your knuckles bulging from how tight you gripped the wood.
Look at you so eager, and yet so nervous.
It practically oozed out of every pore.
Toji practically salivated at the circumstance—he had you where he wanted you for so long now.
You gasped, involuntarily moving forward to press against his hulking frame as his hand slid over your waist.
Toji moved down—
—right past you to turn on the baby monitor attached to the side of the crib.
Grabbing the receiver in the holster next to it, Toji stood up, putting enough space between you so your lungs could start functioning again.
Tsk, you weren’t quite there yet though.
Toji was completely, as evidenced by his cock—half hard in his pant and throbbing—all while warring with his mind that decided at the last minute you weren’t ready.
You had to want it more.
There would be no misunderstandings, no turning back when Toji finally kissed you.
“Well, let’s get t’cookin’ then. Ya like yakiniku, ma?”
The sheer amount of bashful bewilderment radiating off of you made Toji smirk. He lets you marinate in the aftermath as he quickly leaves the room. He didn’t look back, but knew you started to follow by the pap pap pap sounds of your feet trailing behind him.
“Uh-I, um gotta go—go and get the ingredients for the brownies!”
Your announcement came as soon as the two of you were back in the living room, and didn’t wait for his acknowledgement before you booked it out of the door.
Toji waved you off, chuckling as he entered his kitchen.
If you’d hadn’t just put Yuji down, Toji would almost bet your embarrassment wouldn’t let you return. He was sure his casual reaction threw you for a loop. It took every bit of restraint he had to behave, but Toji was playing the long game.
By the time you came back, composure settled and ingredients in hand, Toji was already deep into prepping dinner, the entire ensemble atop the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“You actually own an apron?”
Toji didn’t look up, but a cheeky grin pulled at the rough scar on his lip. It wasn’t really anything fancy, just a simple white canvas material, folded in half and wrapped around Toji’s muscled waist.
“Well it ain’t a skirt, mama.”
Toji threw you one too causing you to giggle softly.
“Multiple at that!?”
Toji knows your eyes on him, but remains focused on the task in front of him. Having you observe him with interest like the many times he observed you honestly thrilled him—to be the object of your study for once.
You gazed at his arms, bulky, bare, as he discarded his suit jacket, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. A sweep of dark inks snakes up his forearms—coiling waves and windbars rippled when he flexes. The color is rich, old-school and bold with no outlines—just intricate patterns branded on his skin like the stories they tell are in his very blood. Toji feels they are at least, so it only affirms your assumed appreciation of his appearance.
Toji lets you linger, savoring the moment. No need to ruin it by making you self-conscious about just how hard you’re staring at him now.
Nah, better to keep it casual for now.
“Might not look like it mama, but I know my way around a kitchen at least when it comes t’meat. If ya cut it right, hard to fuck up yakiniku—even for me.”
Toji produced an impressive slab of beef from the fridge, eliciting an amazed ‘woah’ from your side of the kitchen. The cooking knife he held shone sharply, almost as much as the marbling on the meat itself.
Truthfully, Toji couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he even cut meat for someone, let alone cooked. Still, the motions came back like second nature.
Drawing the knife. Diagonial strokes. Quick, uniform and methodical.
Under his knife, the wagyu seemed to melt off for Toji, who laid the tender cuts out in a circle formation on a platter already filled with cabbage, mushroom and pumpkin chunks.
Toji was already anticipating how good it would sizzle once it hit the pan, and your awes were palpitable.
“Wait..hello?! Do you moonlight as an Iron Chef or something?”
Toji barked with laughter and showing off extravagantly, he flipped the last slice of meat onto the plate, and you couldn’t help but clap in amusement.
Toji is an assassin afterall, of course he’d be good with knives—but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t going to showboat a little, and he gave you a wink for your applause..
“You’re full of surprises, Fushiguro.”
“—Toji, mama,” Toji corrects without thinking. It's second nature now.
You’d made your way to his side of the island, Toji’s tattoos and skills with a knife dazzling you like a lure. Your bodies were almost touching again as Toji turned, towering over you for the second time that night. A soft, humming charge of anticipation that seemed to radiate from you, growing stronger with each inch he leaned in.
You’re trapped in the flame of his aura again but this time there's more calm about you.
Your hand on the counter supports rather than braces.
Your chin tipped back, your eyes locking with his.
Look at you… coy, inviting. Irresistible.
Still not enough.
“Pass the shoyu, ma?”
The relaxed request snaps you out of your daze.
“O-Of course!”
Nearly knocking over the bottle in your haste, you practically toss it at him before scurrying back to your bag at the far end of the island.
The brownie ingredients rustle as you dig furiously through them, looking everywhere but at Toji.
“Thanks, mama,” Toji grinned, catching the bottle with ease.
For all the fire and sass you have in you, you’re pretty soft under the surface. He likes seeing that part, the innocence you try to keep hidden. The very opposite of the man he just can’t wrap his mind around believing you’re with.
Sukuna’s no saint—you had to know he killed men.
But Toji? He’s lost count.
And he wondered—how much of him could you actually accept if you really knew him?
What he’s done.
What he’s yet to do, just to have you.
Would you hate him for it?
“But don’t let the setup fool ya, ma. I ain’t no cook. Just…when ya grow up workin’ in a butcher shop, you pick up a thing or two about meat. I had to learn how to prep bodies for disposal before I learned how to take ‘em out.”
Toji poured the soy sauce into the marinade, sneaking a glance at you over his shoulder.
Your brow lifts, unconvinced.
“Uh-huh.”
Toji was baiting you with his yakuza affiliations—and you were taking it, just like he knew you would.
“Nah, ya know I’m fuckin’ with you, mama,”
His grin still plastered on his scarred lips.
“C’mon, what’s the look for, ma? We kept it all separate. No mixing people with the food…”
Toji paused but you didn't interject. You listened, and like a sponge you soaked up every dark little drip of his past he fed you under the guise of his jokes.
“…but when ya work in a butcher shop, no one questions bloody bags in the dumpster.”
Your eyes rolled as you shook your head, but Toji caught a twitch of a smile.
You weren’t squeamish. Good.
“I guess it was too much to hope you’d just taken a cooking class.”
Although you could take a joke well, your sighs betrayed you were clearly unimpressed.
“You yakuza men…”
That hits a nerve.
Yakuza men.
You just compared them. You had to have—what other yakuza did you know but Sukuna?
Toji knew what he was doing. Dangling the most unsavory parts of himself with a grin, just to see if you’d flinch.
So maybe he deserved that.
But hearing it out loud—having it confirmed that you might see him the same way you see Sukuna—hit like a bullet between the ribs.
Yeah, Toji is a yakuza through and through—never tried to be anything else.
But he’s not Sukuna.
And the idea of you thinking he was?
That’s the one thing he can’t stomach.
Not when he’s clawing so desperately for something different.
Something better with you.
“Gumi will get real cookin’ lessons when he’s older though.”
Toji tossed the words out like they’re nothing, but the implication is obvious.
“Wanna give the kid a shot at least. Hard, though…when this is the safest place for ‘em.”
That might’ve been the most honest thing he’d ever said to you, and it spilled out before he could even dress it up with his usual bullshit.
Toji knew you didn’t want this life Yuji either—but kids like them don’t just inherit yakuza legacies, they get swallowed by them.
Yet with you, for some reason Toji saw the blocks lifted and pathforward to end the cycle of chaos.
He’d always be tied to yakuza, but his kid?
Gumi could be normal—especially, with you as his mom.
“And what about Megumi’s mother? Is it not safe with her?”
Toji froze.
It was a reasonable question given the turn of conversation, but it unexpectedly sliced through Toji all the same.
For once, he was the one to look away. No clever quip, no smirk to hide behind.
Toji crouched low, reaching into the cupboard beneath the counter to retrieve the portable grill.
“She’s dead.”
Zero pleasantries cushioned his words, so your shock and the subsequent sounds of spilled ingredients weren’t surprising to Toji who rummaged deep in the cabinets.
You scrambled to grab a rag, mumbling something about being sorry and not meaning to pry.
But Toji barely listened, craving a cigarette he couldn’t have with you and the kids around, so he’d settle for another whiskey instead. When he stood, your eyes found him instantly—soft and full of concern.
He didn’t deserve your sympathy, but like hell if he didn’t crave it all the same.
Thank fuck you were still on the other side of the island, because this time?
Toji wouldn’t have resisted. He’d have kissed you.
The aching for what he’s lost and what he then hungered for slammed together like a 6 car pile up. He knew he had to keep it cool before every piece of fragmented emotion in his life scattered across the kitchen.
“Don’t worry about it. Just childbirth complications. No one’s fault—you know the risks.”
The words came out easily, but they tasted like rust on Toji’s tongue as he set the grill on the kitchen table.
The silence that followed the intense revelation wasn’t cold—but it was still a bit awkward nonetheless.
For once, Toji was off his game.
Floundering in the weight of shit he didn’t usually let in.
Unforgiven emotions seem to crawl out whenever you’re near.
But you stayed.
You cleaned up the milk.
You didn’t run—even though Toji knew you probably considered it over a dozen times by then.
And that fucking had to mean something, he knows it does.
Thankfully, the kitchen is a more forgiving environment and it wasn't long before a homey routine took over, softening the aftermath of your conversation.
Flicking on the grill, the iron hummed as flames licked across metal. Toji finished setting the table, but his eyes stayed on you. Cocoa and matcha thickened the air as you turned on the oven, moving gracefully as if this kitchen was your own.
You hypnotized Toji, your hips swaying to the beat of your hum, lost in some tune only you could hear.
You were oblivious to how much of your bare back you were showing him, the thin fabric clinging to your waist and pulling taut over your ass when you leaned over the counter.
His gaze followed the curve of your spine, more hungry for your tender flesh to be on his tongue than any rare cut of meat he could have prepared, and Toji carelessly fell back into the well-practiced pattern of watching you when you didn’t know he was looking.
“Here...”
Heh, or maybe you did that time?
You finally broke the silence, extending the mixing spoon behind you without turning around.
“...come and taste it. Tell me if it’s too sweet.”
Toji didn’t bother with any damn spoon though, closing the distance, his broad chest brushed against the bare skin of your back.
With a sharp inhale, you immediately straightened, yet Toji remained unfazed as he leaned over you.
Peering into the dark thick mixture, Toji didn’t hesitate to slide two fingers knuckle-deep into the mixing bowl.The languid yet intentional swirl of his digits scooped up the batter in one steady flick, like he was well familiar with stirring up something else that could be just as sticky and sweet.
Careful to collect every last drop, Toji brought the batter to his lips and devoured it completely.
“Mmmmm.”
Toji lets out a low, drawn-out groan that rumbles deep from his chest, the sound warm and heavy as it fans down the back of your neck—making you squirm. And if the way your thighs instinctively press together is any indication, that heat is pooling in your pussy too.
The taste is utter perfection.
But instead of saying so, he let the gluttonous slurps and wet, lewd smacks of him so crudely polishing his fingers clean fill the air between you—each obscene sound making it harder for you to stay still.
From his angle, Toji had a perfect view of your chest, watching the supple jiggle of your pretty mommy tits when a shiver rolled through you.
Toji couldn’t wait to eat you just as nasty, and he imagined that you must be thinking about it too the way you bullied the brownie batter with flustered, over-eager whisks.
“So I take all of that means you like it then, hm Fushiguro?”
Your sass was back, quicker than usual, yet you still didn’t dare look at him.
Still embarrassed, huh?
“...It’s Toji…”
Toji smirked, quickly dipping his pinky as you tried to bat his hand away, but he managed to grab some regardless, popping it into his mouth as he dodged the hand towel you threw at him.
He chuckled. Although he enjoyed the taste, Toji would’ve rather had you straddling his face right then, letting him lick your creamy pussy batter straight from the source.
But your delectable desert would do for now. Toji wants the tension to keep piling, to wind you tighter until you finally pop.
It’ll be worth the wait.
“Oi!”
Toji’s brow quivered as you spun around to face him.
“You never gave me an answer. No complaining once it’s done if you don’t like it—”
But your scolding fizzled as you closed the distance, noticing the mess all over his face.
“Tsk, oh look at you!”
Huffing, you march towards him.
“You’ve got more batter around your mouth than in it, ya know?”
Toji shrugged, the dark smear of batter still glistening over his scar in the light as the corner of his lips twitched in amusement.
There’s no second guessing in your demeanor as you stand toe-to-toe with him.
“Seriously—what are you, an infant? Jeez, even Yuji’s not this messy!”
Toji let you scold him. He wants this part too—having someone care about him enough to nag.
But then you did something neither of you expected.
You wet your thumb on your tongue and leaned in, swiftly swiping across his lips and still without thinking, you brought your thumb to your lips to quickly lick it clean.
“There! I—”
The words died in your throat.
Toji reveled in the way the realization flickered across your face, syncing perfectly with the sharp hitch of your breath the moment it dawned on you.
For once, you were the one who crossed the line.
Not only did you step into his territory, but you groomed him so intimately without even realizing.
Yeah, there it fucking is.
The initiative Toji was looking for. When you’d be the one to willingly wander a little too close to the edge, not knowing he was waiting in the shadows to pull you all the way in.
Toji is glad he’s waited until this moment to tear you apart.
Ding!
The motherfucking rice cooker timer.
“Ah! R-Rice is ready, and I should really get these in the oven, you whispered quickly, and while Toji didn’t stop you, he did track every step you took.
Oh you’ve unleashed him now, mama.
Toji’s jaw tightened, pulse hammering.
He’d been patient. He’d laid his traps.
But that night? That was where the chase ended.
It wasn’t a matter of if you’d be his.
It was a matter of when you’d stop pretending you weren’t already.
However, the least he could do was give you the courtesy of a meal.
You’d need your stamina for how hard he was about to fuck you.
Sleeves rolled to his elbows, tongs in hand, Toji’s forearms flexed as he worked the grill. The first round of marinated meat and vegetables gently sizzled on the tabletop flame.
“Ooh, that smells so good even from here!”
Your voice gets closer as you make your way back to the table, taking the seat across from him.
The kitchen table is made for four, but with the grill and accompaniments taking over, it was the perfect size for two. Toji was thankful he never bothered with trifling things like a table cloth, which meant he could see everything beneath the smooth crystal top.
The moment you sat down, the high-slit dress revealed your thighs. Despite how you innocuously tried to equalize the hem back into place your attempted modesty did nothing but ensure Toji’s appetite was no longer for the food.
Toji manspread into his seat further and your eyes deliberately avoided looking at the impressive bulge resting shamelessly between his manspread legs.
He wasn’t even hard.
With a nervous laugh, you started with small talk, trying to look anywhere but at Toji’s cock.
Toji knew you were trying to act like this was normal.
Like this was just a casual dinner between neighbors.
But the sparks, the chemistry brewing between the two of you when finally alone was more than just an elephant in the room—it might as well have been Godzilla.
“Ya want some whiskey, mama? Goes well with meat… all kinds, ya know.”
Your eyes flicker upward as you shift, placing the napkin in your lap—more for a last ditch attempt at attempted modesty than manners, but Toji didn’t hide the way his eyes lingered on your thighs nonetheless.
“I wish.”
Your sigh is weary.
“But strong stuff means dumping milk, and with how much these boys eat…I can have a little sake though,if you’ve got it.”
Good. Toji hoped it would loosen you up again. He wouldn’t let you slip away next time.
“Coming right up—anything or my #1 supplier.”
“Fushiguro—when you say it like that, you make it sound like a drug deal!”
Thankfully this time there's a playful mirth in your tone.
Oh your milk? Might as well be a drug—it’s like straight crack to Toji.
You didn’t need to know that though, so Toji only reminded you for the hundredth time to call him ‘Toji’ as he chuckled, sharing in your amusement for an entirely different reason.
Retrieving the sake, Toji poured you a generous cup and slid a piece of grilled wagyu onto your plate, standing close like a chef awaiting judgment.
“G’on try it, ma. Lemme how I did, eh? Shouldn’t kill ya.”
You nodded, a coy smile on your lips as you picked up the wagyu with the chopsticks, balking only when Toji told you the nama tamago, raw egg, on the side wasn’t meant for the grill but to dip the meat in.
Skepticism took over your face until you brought it to your lips for the first bite—the rich creaminess of the egg cooled and balanced the umami of the meat perfectly—and your eyes instantly closed as you savored it.
“Mmmmm.”
Your moan made Toji grip the tongs tighter.
Fuck.
That wasn’t the way he imagined first making you moan for the first time, but he’d take it. You’d soon be moaning even more deliciously for him once he had you the way he really wanted you.
“Good?”
You nodded obliviously, mouth full and humming in approval.
Feeling confident, Toji brandished a fanged smile. “Heh, wit ya moanin’ like that I bet it is—knew you’d like it raw.”
You nearly choked, coughing into your napkin as a bit of sauce dribbled from your chin.
You shot him a glare.
“Don’t ruin dinner.”
Ruin dinner? Toji?
What was with you?
As much as Toji enjoyed the chase—he’d follow you right into hell if you led him there—he was beginning to tire of your hot and cold act.
“What, like Sukuna did?”
Toji returned to his seat across from you.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You went quiet at that.
Toji had no intentions of hurting your feelings nor did he want to mention Sukuna again for comparisons, but he did want you to get a little perspective on what actually ruined the night.
“You’re right…We were supposed to be celebrating our engagement, but here I am having dinner with another man.”
The chopsticks cracked in Toji’s hand. He deduced as much, but it still felt like a slap in the face hearing you confirm it aloud.
“Not only did Sukuna stand me up, I think…”
Delaying, you locked eyes with Toji. He could tell you were coming to terms with the words you were about to say.
“I think he might be cheating on me.”
Toji asked plainly.
“And if he is?”
Of course, Toji didn't realize just how loaded the question was until he said it. He meant it as ‘would you stay’, yet it has so many deeper indications, he felt your walls start to go up again.
“Then he’d be like every other man I know.”
Toji frowned at you lumping him in with Sukuna again—are you not past this already? Perhaps he had to take a stronger hand with you.
“Do ya not know me then ma?”
You blink at Toji before your face crunched-up in sarcastic disbelief.
“Ha! C’mon now Fushiguro, I know you’ve slept with more than half the women in this building. You’re hardly one to value monogamous relationships.”
Toji clicked his tongue, scoffing.
“Well, sure as fuck not someone else’s.”
“That much is obvious.”
Your eyes alighted with challenge as you dared to meet his own, the implications clear.
Touche.
Toji stewed as you returned to the meal in silence. His fingers curled tight around the edges of the table. It wasn’t rage stirring in his chest—just a swell of emotion he couldn’t easily name.
Frustration, maybe. Restlessness.
He wasn’t used to being provoked like this.
Never has he been so desperate for someone to understand him—not even his late wife, back when things were simpler. She never challenged him, never pushed. She accepted what he gave her at face value, took his truths as they came.
But you? You couldn’t. Not when you’d be damaged so badly by Sukuna.
It frustrated Toji as much as it turned him on.
But the gloves were off now.
You needed to know who he was and what he could give you.
“But I haven’t slept with her—that’s what you really wanted to know tho, right ma?”
Toji’s scarred lip upturns triumphantly when your eyes snapped to him. Your face says it all.
Bingo.
“That’s…”
You started in a rush, but slowed your words, choosing them carefully.
“That’s…really none of my business.”
Bullshit.
Toji huffed.
“So ya just care so much ‘bout the rest of the women here then, the ones who hate you?”
You bristled as your eyes flashed with indignation.
“Look, Fushiguro… not everyone is lyin’. With your rap sheet, someone could claim you slept with half of Tokyo last week and I would be inclined to believe them.”
Your words had more bite to them this time, but Toji heard enough of your arguing with Sukuna to know when you were baiting an argument.
Toji was no pushover, but he’d show you he could handle ya without all the screamin’, well screaming from fighting at least.
“Sure, okay ma, n’while they might have been telling the truth in the past, they would be lyin’ now. I haven’t slept with anyone in… months.”
You looked more than skeptical at Toji’s admission.
“Months?”
“Exactly 3 months, if ya wanna be technical, mama.”
Toji chuckled. He could see you do the math in your head that ‘3 months’ was how long you’ve been neighbors.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing another piece of meat off the grill.
“Again, that has nothing to do with me…”
Toji didn’t miss a beat.
“And if it did?”
The new look on Toji’s face was absolutely predatory in its lust. He saw your breath stutter as his fingers reached yours on the table.
Toji stopped just short of touching you.
“If it did have something—everything to do with ya…then what, ma?”
You didn’t pull away, but as you looked up to him, the look in your eyes was painful. Like he was the one who’d been causing all your hurt—when all he wants to do is give you everything.
“I-...it’s just—what are we doing here?”
Your voice was low this time, like you spent so much time arguing with Sukuna, you forgot how to have conflict any other way.
“Having a nice dinner that ya deserved tonight.”
Toji responded easily, but you were clearly done with games, pulling your hand away and placing it into your lap.
“That’s not what—look Fushiguro. I’m not sleeping with you.”
Toji’s chopsticks were ruined but that didn’t stop him from reaching over bare handed to pick a piece of meat off the grill and pop it into his mouth, smug.
“Did I ask ya to?”
Your brow furrowed, but your anger was defused, more exasperated than anything.
“You always are…well, suggesting it, in so many words.”
Toji couldn’t argue that. He was and he made that obvious enough to you.
But you weren’t the perfect picture of innocence yourself. You wouldn’t be sitting across from him right now if you were.
Either way, Toji is fed up with the cat and mouse tonight.
You wanted him to be that guy? Alright then.
If you needed another reality check, he’d give it to you—one you couldn’t deny.
Leaning forward Toji looked you dead in the eye.
“Ya know how many times I coulda fucked you already tonight ma? If all I really wanted was to wet my dick?”
Toji had to dig deep not to laugh then. The look you gave him like was like he was out of his fucking mind and had grown another head.
Toji didn’t say it to make you feel like a conquest though, he said it because it was true.
Toji could tell you were seething, fixing to launch into an argument again so he grabbed you for real this time. Anchored in place, Toji wound his hold tight enough around your wrist he felt your pulse race under his fingers.
“All this time—ya honestly think that's all I want?”
You gasped. He could tell you weren’t expecting him to follow up with that.
Toji could see your brain trying to process it all before you follow up with—
“What do you want then?”
Toji answered immediately, his hand left your wrist to interlace his fingers with yours.
“A wife.”
An answer that clearly caught you off guard, your face unreadable—though after a few moments, you simply shook your head.
“I’m getting married to Sukuna.”
You said it with such an air of finality—or were you just testing him?
Toji tried not to be mad at you. And he wasn’t. Not exactly.
It wasn’t your fault. Not when you were just holding on to the only guarantee you had left.
Maybe Toji was wrong—perhaps it was too early to lay his cards out on the table like that.
But Toji didn’t have the luxury of time with how things were going down in the organization.
Your overthinking is apparent as you seemed to be fighting an internal battle with yourself.
Fighting him, fighting Sukuna too.
But Toji wasn’t the enemy here.
Your hand still in his grasp, Toji ghosted over the indent on your ring finger. You had been wearing it for a while now if the tan surrounding the deep impression in your skin told him anything.
“Then why did ya take off y’er ring before ya came over?”
The look Toji gave you was piercing and from the way your eyes widened in horror, you likely hadn’t even realized you weren’t even wearing it.
Abruptly, you snatched your hand back as you rose from the table, nails splayed across the glass top to steady yourself before collecting your plate.
“Are you finished? It’s getting late, you cooked, I’ll do the dishes and… I’ll head out.”
You’d both barely ate.
Definitely running.
Toji got up but you stopped him before he could make a move towards you.
“Go.. just go clean up, okay? Take a shower Fushiguro, there’s still blood on your collar after all.”
Toji's head turned to the distant mirror on the wall.
Two specks? Fuck, he forgot about that.
Not prepared to see you just yet upon walking into his apartment. You’d seen it there all this time though and didn’t say anything…?
An unfamiliar moisture slicked Toji’s palms. Not even the first time he killed a man did he feel this anxious.
He did need a shower—a cold one, to cool off.
Maybe jack off too since he had just talked his way out of pussy tonight.
Or did he?
Regardless, he needed to regroup. Plan B for a dinner date went to shit…but he wasn’t done with you yet.
Toji kept his shower quick—he’d rather skip it entirely if you weren’t gonna be in it with him. But if following your orders proves he could listen, like a good husband would, then so be it.
Still, he didn’t want you gone before he saw you again. You owed him dessert—and one way or another, Toji was determined to get his piece of you tonight.
Yet despite all his trained instincts, panic gripped Toji when his own thoughts grew too loud—so loud he couldn't hear the subtle sounds of you still moving through his condo. It wasn’t until he finally exited the bathroom did the small clink of dishes in the sink cut through the silence was he sure you were still here.
With your back to him, it took little effort for Toji to slip behind you—quiet as a shadow as he approached.
You crouched low on your knees, reaching for an open cabinet where you were debating where to put the pot in your hands.
Toji crouched close behind you, his heady voice tickling your ears.
“Ya can just toss it in there, ma.”
With a cry, you jumped up too quickly, dropping the dish and losing your own balance in the process, but Toji was already anticipating this reaction. Reflexes quick as ever, Toji caught you, brawny hands around your waist.
His fingers splayed wide across your ribs, holding firm as the backs of his thumbs brushed just beneath the swell of your chest. Your tits hung heavy over the ledge of his knuckles, and Toji had to force himself not to slide his hands up just a little bit more—he was dying to feel how deep his fingers would sink into your jiggly mommy milkers if he squeezed them.
“Wha– Fushiguro! You scared the shi– oop, daylights out of me!”
“To-ji, ma.”
Toji lingered over the syllables, simmering in dark seduction as he hunched over you with his muscular arms taut like bars to cage you in at the sink.
Not even bothering to towel off completely, his slick raven strands stuck to his temples, its wetness shining under the kitchen lights. Water droplets were still rolling off of him, and Toji was amused by the way your gaze helplessly followed one slowly trailing down his tatted collarbone.
His upper body was on full display, and it was clear you were in awe of his sleeved tatts connecting across his chest—culminating in elaborate breastplates. Twin dragons dance over the hard plane of his chest, scales gleaming dangerously. Toji tattoos wrap around him boldly like armor, or rather chains, collaring him to his yakuza affiliations.
There was a small swell in your throat as your eyes continued lower, far further than the drop of water skimming down his torso. Toji followed how your eyes lingered on the ridges of his abs and traced the sharp V cut lines until they disappeared into the waistband of his grey sweats —shamlessly worn far too low on his hips.
Toji was never one for modesty, and he knew what he was doing, what effect his body has on women, and he was pleased to confirm you weren't immune. Although never in any of those times had he been so turned on by someone eyefucking him as he was then.
Towering with a dark predatory glare, he knew he was close enough for you to feel the steam still rolling from his body.
“Time t’pay up, ma,”
The threats in his words weren’t ones of violence, his lecherous intentions clear.
“Three months is a long time t’owe a yakuza. But I’d wait longer for ya…even if y’er killin’ me here.”
You bit your lip, eyes narrowed in a way that said you want to be annoyed. But Toji’s seen that look too many times. You were trying to keep your footing—still pretending.
“T-Toji, stop playin’, move. I gotta finish these dishes.”
You tried to brush him aside but Toji didn’t budge—nothing but muscles, heat and cocky defiance filling every inch of space between you.
As far as he was concerned, Toji hadn’t even begun to play with you yet.
“Dessert first, mamas.”
You arched a brow at him with a small laugh.
“Y-You’re doing the most. T-They’re right there.”
Your hand gestured lazily toward the cooling tray of matcha brownies on the counter, just within arms reach.
Toji didn’t even glance over. He was too busy watching the way your mouth curved when you tease him.
You actually thought you were still in control, that there was still an escape option—it was fuckin’ adorable.
“C’mon chef, present y’er dish, ya?”
The brief staredown ended in a dramatic sigh as you conceded. It was pure entertainment for Toji how you forcibly stretched yourself to the side, unwilling to turn at all with him over you lest you push yourself right onto him.
You slid the pan between the two of you like a shield,brownies already cut into neat little squares. 12 in total, the dark brownies had a greenish hue to them dusted in powdered sugar. You presented them with a smug little look that says, here you go, clearly hoping it’d force some space between the two of you.
But Toji didn’t budge—not even a little.
Instead, he hums confidently, pressing the pan’s edges flush between your bodies with a grin that was all teeth and dark promises.
“Nah. Feed me.”
He opened his mouth wide, lolling out with an ‘ah’ sound.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m starvin’, actually. Someone ended dinner early before I got t’eat.”
Rolling your eyes with a huff, one hand braced the pan between your bodies as you plucked out a brownie square with the other, bringing the sweet treat close to Toji’s mouth.
Toji leaned in slowly, savoring the stubborn little pout tugging at your lips from having to feed him as much as the bite itself. His leg slipped between yours, not pushing in yet, just enough so you’d feel the promise of tension winding tight between your thighs.
Toji’s eyes stay locked on yours, unblinking—drinking in every flicker of your lashes, every labored breath you took beneath the weight of his presence. He felt the tremor in your hand as he took the first taste, mouth enveloping the treat like he was tasting something decadent and forbidden.
His lips dragged against your fingertips, tongue curling to greedily lap at the lingering sweetness as he chewed.
Toji smirked to himself looking at your frozen state—like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, let alone resist.
About fuckin’ time too.
“Mmm…”
His groans rubbled deep in his chest when he took the last bite of brownie from your trembling hand.
“Fuckin’ delicious mama.”
Sniggers erupted from Toji as you attempted to snatch your hand back, but his fingers caught your wrist mid-flight and you yelped.
“Aht-aht,”
Murmuring, grip was tight and unyielding as he dragged your hand back toward his mouth.
“We ain’t done yet. Look at this dirty lil’ hand, ma.”
And before you can protest that it was Toji’s fault your hand was covered in fudge and crumbs—Toji’s thick tongue slid over your palm.
Wet and hot, the bumpy texture drug over the dips of your hand, curling into the creases like Toji was trying to memorize the shape of you with his mouth. His tongue snakes down to your wrist then licked his way back up and over your palm—tracing each knuckle and suckling at the space between your fingers with lewd, open-mouthed kisses.
You gasped, thighs clenching salaciously around his thigh that had now wedged itself right up against your cunt.
When Toji was deemed himself done cleaning your fingers his eyes didn’t miss a beat, zeroing in on your lips—still looking famished for more. An insatiable hunger in him that could only be filled by devouring every part of you.
Toji dipped in closer—so close that the water still clinging to his bangs began to drip.
“A-Ah, step back—you're getting me all wet!”
You jerked in surprise when a few cold droplets hit you, pan tilting like it would spill as a few brownies tumbled out of place.
“Heh, is that right, mamas?”
You squeaked upon realizing your phrasing. Toji just looks all the more devilishly smug and determined. He took the pan from your hands and tossed it on the counter.
“Well then mama—”
Toji’s eyes cascaded down the low halter of your dress, spying the crumbs that had tumbled down to collect between the swells of your breasts. The fudgy matcha stuck to your skin, along with more water droplets from Toji’s hair, making more of a mess Toji took delight in having to clean up for you.
“—let’s just see how wet she can get, hm?”
Not giving you a chance to object then, his arms left the counter to wrap around you. Groping your hips, his errant hands sunk into the sides of your high slits, eagerly landscaping across your flesh until he’s palming your bare ass cheeks apart.
Toji’s touch rendering you defenseless, your legs followed, opening wider to grind against his brawny thigh. Toji was pleased to find you pantiless like he thought—he could feel the soft squish of your fatma leaking, already soaking through his sweats.
Lowering to your chest, your scent hit him all over again, that warm vanilla mix he’s come to crave as he dragged his tongue through the valley of your breasts. Toji lost himself, chasing the taste of sugar and salt on your skin.
It was like music to Toji’s ears when you sighed, crying out as you arched to press yourself deeper into his mouth that worshipped the tender uncovered skin on the side of your breast like a sinner saved.
Eye level with your nipples, he pulled back only to savor the beads of milk pebbling through your thin silk dress, stimulated by your arousal.
Heh, you got wet for him in more ways than one. How good of your body to prepare him another meal.
He had to get you outta this dress first though. On a mission, Toji traced the stripe up the curve of your breast right up to your throat. Your fingers twisted into his damp hair, spurring him on with the green light he’d desperately been seeking for months.
“How could ya ever think y’er anything but fuckin’ perfect?”
Toji growls ragged against your neck. The comment was more for himself than you. He didn’t expect you to say anything right then anyway by how nicely you were quivering against him.
All Toji wanted to hear from you were your moans.
“You know, ma…”
Releasing one of your cheeks, his hand greedily palmed its way higher to cup the soft swell of your leaky tit. Toji’s thumb possessively swirled over your aroused nipple through the thin silk of your dress, now clinging like plastic to the wet lil nub, flicking it just enough to make your knees go weak and your thighs tighten around his own as you hump against him.
“I still don’t think you’re showin’ enough skin f’er my tastes...”
Leaving your breast, his thumb skated over to the seam of your dress, teasing the skin up to your shoulders before it hooked beneath the fabric strap to slide it down.
Your breath stuttered, hands leaving his hair to frame his face now millimeters away from yours.
“Wait, F-Fush-ii—”
Molded against him, your dress hung perilously off your body, silk catching on every curve as Toji dragged the second strap down slowly—exposing more of you with every inch.
“It’s Toji,”
He breathed huskily onto the shell of your ear.
“C’mon, be a good lil wifey f’er me, mamas…”
Nibbling from your earlobe down your neck, Toji’s feral lust boils to its peak at the thought of you finally uttering his name out of your lips.
“...and say it for me, yeah?”
His hot breath teased at your pulse, Toji gently planted a kiss before, slightly breaking skin and you cry out as he slurps at your skin until a bruise that, if you couldn’t see you sure as fuck would feel the next day, formed..
When Toji pulled back, he couldn’t tell if you were hesitating, or just too dazed to speak. Hips now eagerly reciprocating against his thigh, a trail of slick glued his soaked sweats to his skin.
Shit.
Looking at you lose yourself in pleasure just from his thigh, his cock throbbed angrily. Toji was quick to move, digging his fingers back into your hips as he hiked your leg over his hip, repositioning you so your sloppy lil pussy could then rut obscenely against the very stiff protrusion in his sweatpants.
The elicited pleasure-filled moans from you both, echoed off the tile as you very shamelessly dry humped in the middle of the kitchen against the sink.
Sweet fuck—everything feels good with you. Toji imagined fucking you for so long he’d thought he’d long have you bent over the counter, shoving all of his many inches into you as soon as he got the chance that night. Instead he was rubbing his cock on you like some fuckin’ horny loser ass teenager.
But Toji would bust right in his sweats soon if he didn't stop. Your eyes were already shut, lip bitten up in concentration and focusing all your efforts on getting off.
With a string of curses, Toji pulled away, propping you up on the sink and crouching on his knees between your spread legs, ruined silk fabric barely hiding your pussy from him.
His eyes rolled back at the scent of you. Your pheromones were potent and Toji licked his lips in anticipation.
Dry humping wouldn’t be enough if he had to prep you to take him.
But first…
“Say it, mama.”
You shivered, whining sweetly through shallow breaths, hands braced on either side of the sink to keep from collapsing. Still dazed, still aching, your hips kept rocking toward him, chasing release even as he denied you—until Toji wrapped his arms around your thighs and tilted you closer to his mouth.
“Say my name...then I swear I’ll make you feel so good you won’t stop fuckin’ screamin’ it.”
You nodded dumbly. So sweetly did your perfect lips part to say the two syllables he'd been dying to hear for the last 3 months.
“Pleaseee To—”
Click.
The door opened.
“Hello? You home? Fushiguro-san?!”
Toji froze as he heard the nanny in the entry way.
You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’.
So much for being at the fuckin’ hospital, spry old cockblockin’ bat.
And just like that, like a cold bucket of water doused on your form, you instantly snapped out of Toji’s trance. Reluctantly, Toji lets you untangle yourself from him, sparing you modesty then in the meantime.
He’d send the nanny on her way and then you both could get back to it.
Toji hid the absolute look of displeasure that threatened his features at the annoyance of being interrupted, feigning as much concern as he could muster as the nanny walked into the kitchen, hand all bandaged up.
“There you are! Oh and Fushiguro-san too!”
The sweet old woman didn’t seem to question Toji’s state of undress or why half your dress was wet.
Toji knows she’s walked into him doing worse before.
“Heard ya had an accident, thought ya be at the hospital still.”
The nanny explained how she unexpectedly ran into the organization's head doctor. They had done a house call for one of the pregnant women here who then suggested the doctor take the nanny to their office in Shinjuku to get patched up rather than spend hours in the ER.
Toji repressed an eye roll. Great. Just his fuckin’ luck.
Yet his mood only fully turned sour once you announced how late it was and that you needed to be heading back. Before he could even stop you, the nanny thanked you, saying she would head over with you to grab more milk for Megumi.
He was so close too.
Not all for naught though, the main plans were still on track. Moving pieces that would soon settle all into place, as long as he could keep certain players in check, he had failed in doing so multiple times that night though.
⟡
A sharp trill cuts through the fog of Toji’s thoughts.
This time it’s Sukuna's phone that is blowing up. Calls Toji knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore as the ringing abruptly ends your dispute.
No other noise is heard from inside your apartment.
Riiiiing…
Riiiiing…
Sukuna growls.
“Don’t—”
Toji still can’t see you from outside, but the defeat cracking in your voice is unmistakable.
“Don’t answer it. Ryo, please. Stay just here with us, with me?”
There’s a long pause, long enough for the persistent ringing to seem like a metronome to the exact moments that everything you were trying to hold onto would either crumble or be secured.
“I-I don’t even care you got some woman pregnant—I…shit I mean, of course I-I fucking do, I’m fucking livid! It’s just… we can figure it out—but only if you stay in Japan. Don’t go to Italy, they don’t need you like we do… Yuji and I need you here.”
Motherfucker.
All that time in the shadows, watching, waiting.
All that delicate orchestration—
And you still gave Sukuna a choice.
Despite everything Toij’s done over the past few months, all that’s been set in motion.
Everything still comes down to Sukuna.
God, you’d stay tangled with a man who never deserved you, a man who you don’t really love, simply because you’re too good of a woman not to try for the sake of your son—because maybe if Sukuna used even half of his determination for power and control to care for his family, he might be deserving of you both.
Toji knows he doesn’t have a perfect vision of what love is supposed to look like.
But this surely isn’t fucking it.
Fuck if your loyalty isn’t something holy though.
All of his senses honed, Toji’s mind is ready to pivot to a number of contingency plans at the drop of a hat, many that end with Sukuna’s blood painting the walls like he’s imagined doing many times previously.
However, when heavy footsteps clack across the marble flooring followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut, a decisive finality echoes through the silence, and Toji finally exhales.
You offered Sukuna your entire world—and the bastard still didn’t choose you.
He left you.
Something Toji vows to never do.
Toji wants to race over to your door, hell he’d jump over the balcony to get to you. But all that becomes unnecessary as you step outside onto your balcony again.
Barefoot and clearly not dressed for the chilly night air, you cross your arms tight—like if you hold yourself together hard enough, you won’t crack open completely—too lost in your thoughts to register the cold or even notice Toji watching you. He’s not even hiding this time.
Your gaze is solely locked on the sleek Mercedes idling on the curb, and it's not long before Sukuna appears, barking orders over the phone as he strides to meet Uraume who exits the drivers side, bowing low at his approach before opening the rear passenger door.
Yet just as Toji is about to claim victory, Sukuna pauses.
Sukuna’s hand clutches aggressively on the roof of the vehicle while the phone temporarily falls away from his ear. Toji’s eyes narrow as yours fill with specks of foolish hope—like you think he’d actually reconsidered that quickly and turn around.
But Toji knows better, this is no change of heart.
Toji can’t see Sukuna’s face, but he knows the gears are turning, contemplating what's before him and behind him.
Fucking bastard, get in the damn car.
Mere moments seem like an eternity to an assassin's eye who analyzes every detail of the scene before him in painful slow motion. Toji’s lungs burn with the need for a breath he doesn’t dare take as his fingers twitch anxiously around the cigarette in his hand.
Time finally resumes when Sukuna relents, swiftly entering and resuming his conversation.
Not sparing you a backwards glance as Uraume closes the door.
Toji waits for you to react, scream, shout after the car that quickly zooms off into the night—but you don’t.
You just stand there.
Empty.
Utterly defeated.
Toji hates seeing you like this. That’s not who you are.
Not the sharp-tongued girl who once shoved Yuji into his arms without even asking, not the woman who walked into a building full of vipers like you owned the damn place, who didn’t let anything slide, couldn’t be bought—and who for damn sure was anything but an easy fucking lay.
Giving you space to process, Toji simply watches you.
And you?
Where’s your head after all of this?
Well, you can’t remember a time you felt more unsure about where the fuck your life is going.
Even more than when you first told Sukuna, technically your employer at the time, that you were pregnant.
He’d never given you any promises of love or devotion, from the beginning, but he did say he’d take care of you.
Sukuna promised you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
Yet all you find yourself doing lately is worrying.
Fuck this.
No sooner do you resolve those thoughts than the cold hits you all at once, carving sharp trails down your cheeks and dragging you back to reality. The ache in your chest threatens to pull you into despair. You shiver, breath catching—only then realizing how hard you’ve been crying.
A flicker of light catches your eye—the soft glow of a cigarette, its ember burning steady in the dark, drawing your gaze to Toji’s silhouette waiting silently in the shadows.
He’s staring at you intently—no doubt had been witness to the spectacle you just made of yourself, but his eyes hold none of the pity nor the resentment you expect after how you’d just ghosted him over the past two weeks after nearly fucking him in his kitchen.
The only thing you see is curiosity on his features, like he’s looking to you to give him the next play.
“Ma… ya alright?”
The ball, as it had always been, is in your court.
You sigh.
No, you weren’t. You were tired.
Tired of fighting and tired of feeling isolated.
Tired of giving everything and it still not being enough.
All to raise a well-adjusted non-criminal child—something you are doing all by yourself even with his father around.
You just wanted something that felt good.
Something you didn’t have to fight for, that came easy.
You simply shrug in response to Toji, wiping your tears away.Although his presence now is oddly comforting, you still didn’t want to cry in front of him. This wasn’t his burden, and you’d unfairly flirted with the idea of giving into his many advances—even if you’d only really recently started believing in his sincerity.
It wouldn’t be fair to lean on him now, now that you’d didn’t know where to turn. Especially, when you knew what he wanted.
Honestly, you had no idea if you even had the capacity to give that much in a relationship to anyone anymore—much less than if he still wants it with you.
And yet all things considering, the very last thing you want right now is to be alone.
“Um, but I could be okay—if you still have some of that whiskey for me that is?”
You take stock of Toji, who looks particularly cunning draped in shadows and cigarette smoke. Wholly unable to read him now when he’d been so transparent with you before. More anxiety builds as you don’t know what to do in the moment but ramble on.
“I-I have a lot of milk saved for Megumi so, um, I mean, I won’t fall short if I have to dump for a few days. I just need something stronger than sake this time ya know?”
Outwardly stoic, inside Toji is fucking buzzing as he tries to retain his cool but this moment is like the sun coming up after the longest fucking night in the world.
He doesn’t mean to make you spiral but he’s fighting the urge to let out a victorious warcry.
“It’s got y’er name on it mama, c’mon over. Bring the kiddo too, o’course.”
Relief is all over your face when he does speak and you spare Toji a timid smile.
“I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”
Toji tips his head in acknowledgement.
“I’ll be here whenever y’er ready, ma.”
You nod, hanging back before going inside, bouncing once on your heels and lightly chewing your lip as you stare right at Toji.
“Thanks…ah, I…um, I really appreciate you being here for me... Toji.”
Toji billows out the last of the smoke as he exhales, flicking the dead filter over the balcony edge.
“Don’t mention it, ma. Anything ya need. I got ya. Always.”
Cheeks flushed as you nod, the door slides shut behind you a second later, leaving the balcony empty.
The grin Toji wears is wider than a Cheshire cat and his heart-pounds with a feral thrill of a hunter who’d been chasing at the heels of his prey that finally lay at his feet at long last.
Satisfaction uncoils through him more than the smoke coiling in his lungs. Your voice still lingers in the air, and he’s replaying it in his head.
‘...Toji.’
You said his name.
You finally said his fucking name and it sounded better anything he’s ever heard in his life coming off that sassy lil tongue of yours.
Just like that, everything locks into place as the weight of the longing in his chest dissolves.
Toji laughs. It’s lighthearted, almost carefree—but there’s a wild edge beneath it, a jagged undertone that’s just a bit too sharp to be sane.
It was bad enough you’d given Sukuna such a heartfelt ultimatum that if he were anything other than the cruel ice king he is he’d have broken. When Sukuna wavered to get in the car after walking out—that should have been the easy part, and yet that was the real test.
Toji thought she had fucked it all up for him again.
From the balcony’s tall height and the glare of the streetlights bouncing off the shiny black Mercedes, it was difficult to see anything other than Sukuna and Uraume in the dim street lighting.
Yet, Toji’s keen assassin eyes catch it without trouble—a pale, feminine hand reaching from the depths of the black sedan.
Your friend.
Her matte black nails flicked towards Sukuna in a flirty, beckoning gesture.
The big boss’s illegitimate daughter and Sukuna’s other woman—Yorzu.
He’d told her to leave this alone. That was taken care of.
Sukuna would be meeting her in the mountains before leaving for Italy.
Yet, her overwhelming jealousy and blindness for Sukuna’s affections makes her too reckless.
She couldn’t just stay in the shadows where she belonged.
She had to befriend you.
Had to mock you with her delusions of being pseudo engaged to Sukuna and make you think he was cheating on you.
Just like she had to show up tonight when she was supposed to be hiding away from any ‘assination’ attempts.
Toji knew Sukuna’s pause was out of surprise, and Sukuna wasn’t stupid.
Bitch just put their entire plan in jeopardy had Sukuna put two and two together right then.
Yet at the end of the day, Sukuna’s choices alone would only serve to prove the ultimate twist of the knife for you. It didn’t matter what the truth was, the reality still is he left you.
It’s the ultimate proof of why Sukuna doesn’t deserve you—and you didn’t need to see Yorozu in the car to know that.
Those two crazy fucks were better suited for each other anyway—who else but a sociopathic bitch would rip a 200 year old organization apart and cause a fucking internal war all for an equally bloodthirsty, psychopathic asshole.
Not that Toji feels bad for keeping all this from you necessarily, he considers it sparing you—just as he’d spared you the day he first met and fell for you.
Yorozu wasn’t happy about that, but ultimately as long as the path for Sukuna was clear, she didn’t care how Toji got you out of the way.
*ding-dong*
Right on time.
Cracking his neck, Toji makes his way to the door where you are waiting for him.
Fate had already destined your life to be in his hands—who gives a fuck about how it all exactly played out?
Yorozu thinks she’s using him to steal your story, but your ending was never with Sukuna.
Toji knows the endgame was always meant to be with him.
Opening the door, Toji spies you, a nappy bag in one arm andYuji in the other. A tired small smile on your face.
You never looked more ready for him to swoop in.
And if anyone tries to rewrite his ending?
Well, fuck em’.
Toji will gladly rip out the pages.
Fuck a pen, he’ll start the next chapter with a bullet.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
p4, the final chapter next! toji about to fuck you six ways from sunday jchsdfchjsd. i already has 9k worth of notes, dialogue, chucks of written smut, etc to incorporate to tie everything together. so just know i won't have to start from scratch there but because of me shifting gears to kinktober (with the goal of finishing it finally this year lmfao), im planning on releasing p4 on or before Toji's bday this year. however, if you want more yandere in the meantime there is hannibal!nanami and invisible man!gojo to look forward to next month!! xx, kali.
special mentions: shout out to @buttercupblu143 for taking a red pen to this shit because i have the grammar of a 2nd grader and my eyes glaze over after 8k words lolol. also shout out to @yung-notorious who listened to be talk about this plot since last nov.
moving out and dating around is much harder when your roommate suddenly wants to make a move on (or in) you!
synopsis: you thought you crushed your crush on Sukuna forever ago when you found yourself in the friend zone - so how the hell did he keep managing cockblock you? when you finally try to do something about it, your roommate has a lot to say about being just friends
wc: 3.4k
content: mdni, light angst/fluff + smut, heavy mutual pining, jealousy, roommates-to-lovers, sukuna being secretly down bad, begrudging confessions, unprotected piv sex, pulling out, oral (f!) receiving, (oblivious) idiots in love with each other
a/n: this was a commision from the lovely @mkuwuu
“I think I should move out.”
Sukuna’s mouth twitched. Shoulders froze. Knuckles white against the now-bent spoon he was eating cereal out of, the milk dripping over the edge into the table.
“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” He slowly grumbled, and for someone who looked like he was choosing his words carefully, it still made you cringe to have his annoyance directed towards you.
“I dunno, it just seems like I get on your nerves lately, and the lease will be up next month anyway, and-”
“No,” he bluntly cut off your rambling with a short scoff. As if it was stupid to think he was sick of you just because he rolled his eyes and snapped at you just for taking too long in the shower or if you forgot your clothes in the dryer.
“I mean, are you sure?” You hesitated, about to bring up one of the twenty bullet points you'd compiled on your phone last night, but he just glared up at you again.
“You’re staying.”
Well, you supposed all your reasons were just lies and excuses you'd been crafting because the real one was too embarrassing.
How the hell were you supposed to tell him you wanted to leave because you couldn't get laid with him around?
You’d met him at a convenience store almost four years ago. Had the (mis)fortune of spilling your drink on him and somehow still managing to score his number by offering to buy him a new shirt to make up for it. A not-so-tiny sliver of you had been smitten from his first glare. The challenge of his scowl, the question in the downturn of his lips – how hard would it be to make him smile?
He was blunt. Kind of (really) rude half the time. But you had a surprising amount in common when you managed to get him on the phone. You liked it when he laughed – even if it was really just a dry chuckle most of the time. It felt like a reward, one you found yourself working harder and harder for. Sending moronic videos that made you think of him, good mornings he would only send a thumbs up back to, not quite nudes that would make the typing text bubble pop up for ten minutes before he’d leave it marked as seen.
Except after a couple months of sporadic texts and calls, when you finally convinced him to hang out, he cancelled on you last minute. You thought that was it. The first step to getting ghosted. An excuse here. A half-hearted apology there. The eventual silence until one day you’d see him on the grocery store or street with a girl and think: what does she have?
What were you missing?
But then he texted you a couple days later with just an address and a time. A bar that was only a few blocks from your apartment.
You spent half the day picking out what dress to wear, doing your hair and makeup, copious amounts of effort into being attractive enough to seal the deal – but when you got there, he was drinking with his friends – and a few girls.
The friend zone felt like fucking shit.
But you stayed because you figured he probably knew other hot guys you could hook up with. He did, but none of them would entertain more than conversations that would get cut short by him every time it ventured past the boring polite stuff.
You never saw Sukuna so much as flirt with any girls – but you just sort of assumed they existed, something he did in his free time every time he wasn’t with you or replying to your messages.
Honestly, you couldn’t fucking believed it when he asked you to move in after his last roommate left after being in that limbo for way longer than you should’ve been.
You really couldn’t fucking believe when you heard the word ‘yes’ leave your mouth back.
All you could do was regret being such a lovesick idiot back then since you were reaping the consequences now.
Well, your cunt was.
You hadn’t been laid in ten months.
Honestly, you could’ve gotten knocked up and actually had a kid with that time. But no, a man hadn’t come within twenty feet of your thighs because a certain pink-haired asshole hated you leaving the apartment to do anything without him.
Not that he’d admit it.
It hadn’t been that hard at first – you’d just slip out without saying anything and come back the next morning in the same clothes. His brow would twitch, his lips pressed in a thin line, but he never said anything.
But these days? Every time you wanted to grab food? He was grabbing his car keys. A new movie was coming out? He already bought the tickets even if he’d complain the entire drive home how stupid he thought it was.
He even managed to crash your last girls night with all his stupid friends you couldn’t stand anymore. Slotting himself between you and a hot stranger who had his hands on your hips, practically shoving him away simply for the crime of being too close to you when Sukuna was the one who kept you at arms length at home.
Afterwards, he had grumbled into your ear that he heard that the guy actually had a girlfriend.
You felt like a fool for thinking for even half a second that he’d done it because he liked you.
The legs of your chair creaked when you got up now, pushed back too fast as you turned away from him. You didn’t mention the fact you’d already started looking at new buildings. Had a few showings planned and scheduled after your next shift.
Half your clothes and things were already stuffed in boxes in your closet.
In the past two years of this admittedly strange living situation, he’d never bothered coming into your room, so you figured he wouldn’t find any of it.
He was the kind of guy who’d barge into the bathroom when you took a shower, or hog all the space on the couch, but you supposed some things were sacred. The fine line of the threshold into your tiny hundred square foot space was one of them – a boundary he begrudgingly respected, for whatever reason.
Either way, you locked your door behind you.
Collapsed onto your uncomfortable bed, mattress springs whining as you plucked your phone free from its charger and scrolled through your apps for the hundredth time to click on the one you’d been religiously checking all month.
One new match.
“You look like a-”
“Slut?” You finished his sentence for him, glancing back over your shoulder at an obviously annoyed Sukuna, his muscled biceps folding across his arms, jaw locked. If you listened close enough, you could hear his molars grinding.
You could see the protest forming on his tongue, for him to snarl back some more clever insult to correct you. But it didn’t come.
Just that cold stare as his dark eyes dragged over your body, the way your dress was bunched up too high on your thighs before you’d even left the apartment or slipped your heels on.
“The hell are we going?” Sukuna grunted, ignoring what you said and forcing his gaze back up to your face. He was leaning against the wall across from you, studying your reaction, daring you to say what he thought you were going to. Wearing a loose pair of sweatpants that hung low enough on his hips you could see his abs and happy trail every time his shirt rode up on his skin. You huffed back, trying not to grimace when you walked past him in the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, the condensation cool on your clumsy fingers as you took a small sip to soothe your dry throat.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” you corrected him after you dropped the cup back on the counter, unzipping your purse as you checked to make sure you had your keys and lip gloss with enough cash to pay a cab later if you needed. “I’m going on a date.”
“With who?”
“Does it matter?” You scoffed, checking your messages just to see he’d sent one a few minutes ago saying he was on his way.
“Yeah,” Sukuna scoffed back at you, louder, like it’d overwrite yours and make his point clearer. “It does.”
“Why?” You bluntly asked, walking out of the kitchen and out to the hall bathroom to check your reflection one last time. He was following though, on your heels as you padded barefoot across the floor.
“What if he’s a creep?” Sukuna suggested in a low snarl, flicking the light off after you tried to turn it on. “A catfish?”
“Then I’ll come back,” you retorted, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him.
“No,” he growled, all gravelly and gritty, his massive frame blocking the door and hand covering the light switch.
“So I should go home with him if he’s a creep?” You sarcastically asked.
“That's not what I meant and you know it,” he grumbled, each word a prickly barb that sent an unfair jolt of excitement down your spine.
It shouldn't. He shouldn't.
Not when after four years of friendship and two of living together where the furthest the two of you had come to actual intimacy was drifting off on his shoulder during shows and him brushing against you to grab stuff off the top shelf.
But him being protective was unfortunately much hotter when you were already aching to get fucked, sick of the abstinence you'd been stuck in for months.
He was practically your personal chastity belt at this point, keeping the key all to himself by monopolizing every minute of your day.
Was it all him though? Or did part of you pick that?
Choose to stay by his side on the couch or out in public just so his attention (platonic or otherwise) wouldn't drift elsewhere.
“He's picking me up soon,” you shrugged, like you didn't care what he thought.
You weren’t going to be the one waving the white flag of defeat tonight. Unless it was someone else’s boxers.
“Like hell he is,” he grumbled, and you guessed he was trying to insinuate he’d scare your date off.
“Why do you care?” You deadpanned, swatting his hand away from the light switch so you could actually turn it on and see his expression.
Which wasn’t exactly what you expected.
It wasn’t rage. Wasn’t really anger. Annoyance? Irritation? Sure, but the little pout on his pretty pink lips indicated something more.
Sukuna was jealous.
“I don’t want you to go,” he brusquely said, not even blinking as he stared at you.
Your stomach flipped. You should brush past him, should slide your heels on and just wait in the parking lot. But your feet felt glued to the tile, unable to move an inch when his eyes were burning into yours.
“Why?” You asked, voice thin and hoarse.
“You know why,” he grunted, but that wasn’t good enough.
“Give me a real reason or I’m walking out the door.”
“I-”
There was a knock at it anyway, loud enough to reverberate through the rest of the apartment. Your phone buzzed in your purse, probably him saying he was here while your roommate stared at you like he was on the brink of bending you over the bathroom sink.
“Last chance,” you warned, and you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Some confession?
“I like you,” he managed to spit it out, a little crinkle in his nose as he waited for you to say the same.
But you hadn’t waited four fucking years for an ‘I like you’.
“Isn’t that why we’re friends?” You tilted your head to the side. “Because you like hanging out with me?”
His jaw tightened, way past annoyed, but you just pushed past him, your shoulder knocking into his arm as you squeezed out of the bathroom.
“That’s not-”
You were already in the living room though, bending over to get your heels off the floor.
But then his hands were on your waist, fingers digging in and wrinkling your dress, refusing to let you so much as slip them on.
“You fuckin’ love torturing me,” he grumbled, grabbing your heels out of your hands and holding them behind his back to make you try and get them back. You huffed at him, eyes squinting up at him in irritation, but the hand that wasn’t holding your heels suddenly tethered itself in your hair and tugged, forcing you to look up at him. “I like you. I have this whole time, brat.”
He emphasized the word, like he wanted to make sure it made its way through your skull.
“You never-” You started protesting, but he wasn’t budging.
“You’re the one always talking about us being friends,” he hissed, like he hated the word as much as you did.
“Because you friend zoned me,” you argued back in a low whisper, heart beating fast enough it hurt your chest. “I never-”
He rolled his eyes at you this time, leaning down and shutting you up with a kiss. One that you’d imagined in a hundred different ways. In the rain. On the kitchen table. During a movie. At a coffee shop.
But here, barefoot and in the middle of the living room, with his hand in your hair and your palm pressed against his chest, it was much better than any fantasy you ever dared to daydream about before.
He tasted like mint. His cologne had wrapped around you, and would probably cling to your skin long after this ended, but it was warm, cozy. He smelled like home.
Sukuna sucked on your bottom lip, canines nipping at the thin skin and lapping up every last bit of candy-flavored gloss you’d coated them in, dropping your heels to the floor right as your date knocked again outside.
He refused to pull away until you were both out of breath. Glaring at the door like he was considering how a murder charge would affect his day until he begrudgingly walked over to answer it, only opening it enough to look through the crack.
“She’s busy,” Sukuna deadpanned, slamming it back before your suitor could even get a word in.
You were staring at him, mouth still parted in surprise when he flipped the lock and laserfocused back on where you were standing in your skimpy dress and freshly-smudged lipgloss.
And five minutes later, you were face-down on your shared couch, dress discarded on the floor, panties pulled down and still hooked around your ankles while your phone kept vibrating from inside your purse where Sukuna had tossed it onto the stained coffee table.
“The hell you want a guy like him for?” He grumbled, head between your legs, his calloused palms keeping your thighs spread and pliant for him while he ate you out like he’d been starving.
Your dinner date somehow twisted into being another man’s meal.
Panting, your nails clawed at the closest pillow at his tongue pushing deeper into your cunt, exploring your insides like you were his to map out. Struggling to form words when each lap, each lick ripped your breath from your lungs. “I, fuck, I-”
“M’waiting,” he murmured, dry and low, not mocking but close enough to make your body shudder.
“I wanted to get fucked,” you admitted, a breathy whine that hardly sounded like yourself, and a low growl was ripped from his throat, maybe imagining what you would’ve been doing tonight if he hadn’t come clean and confessed.
“You could’ve asked me,” he grumbled, pulling his tongue out, the absence making your stomach flutter, the fire burning in your stomach flaring as you heard the shuffle of his sweatpants getting pulled down. The faint slap of something heavy on your ass, his pre-cum leaking out on your skin as you glanced over your shoulder at him.
He looked fucking feral.
And you were suddenly unsure who’d been waiting longer for this moment, watching through glossy eyes as he guided his thick cock right against your entrance, his own heavy-lidded stare studying the connection between you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Think I can’t take care of you?” He grunted right as he shoved the first few inches in, your face immediately falling back into the cushion to choke out your raspy moan.
He easily pushed past the first ring of resistance, your body melting into his as his cock stretched your already slick walls out for him. A promise you felt in the pressure skyrocketing in your stomach – that he was planning on taking very good care of you now.
Although, you had a feeling his version of soothing you would end up with you sobbing his name.
And maybe you’d been wrong about him before, wrong about your whole relationship, but you were right about that.
He bottomed out hard, your cunt clenching around him right as his swollen tip fit snugly against your cervix. His cock was throbbing, and if you looked back, you had a feeling Sukuna would be struggling not to cum already considering his thrusts had stalled before they even started.
Just feeling you, the greedy way you were sucking him in, desperate for whatever he’d give you.
“Fuck, baby, you’re-”
“I’m what?” You teased him, but it just sounded like a whimper from your gasping lips, not missing the fact he called you baby instead of brat.
“Mine.”
He fucked you like it.
Hard and fast, like he had something to prove. Maybe to both of you. That this was more than just a moment of jealousy – that this had been building from the day you met him.
His fingers splayed across your hip to hold you in place, his other hand grabbing your hair and pulling it back enough to make you turn and glance up at him. Wild eyes finding yours, the words that had never been said suffocating both of you hanging heavy in them.
But before you could dare to whisper any of them, or his tongue could slip, his mouth was crashing into yours. His tongue brushing past your teeth as he rutted into you, in-and-out in fast motions, only letting go of your hips to fumble for your clit mid-kiss, his hand caught between the couch and your body.
He made it work, rubbing rough circles over it, only making the waves of pleasure crash over harder, lewd sounds of his hips smacking against yours adding to the chorus of groans you were drowning in.
You unravelled for him – thighs twitching and trembling as he made you cum, tears forming and threatening to fall in the corners of your eyes as you cried out his name. That was all he needed, all he’d been waiting for, and he was releasing your hair so he could release on your back instead of inside you.
It was thick, cum splattering across your skin as his muscles tensed. You were still catching your breath when he grabbed your panties off the floor to wipe you clean, well, as clean as he could considering how flimsy the fabric was.
“You hungry?” He casually asked, and an airy giggle escaped you.
“Yeah,” you exhaled, closing your eyes and relaxing as he stood up and laid you flat on the couch. His hand still lingered on your body, running along your side from your ass up to your shoulders, thick fingers tracing his name on your sticky skin.
“I’ll order somethin’,” he grumbled, and you were about to ruin it, about to ask the question that’d been on the back of your mind since he buried his face in your cunt. But he answered it like he could read your mind. “And next time you wanna go on a date, ask me.”
You laughed a little, yawning and nodding, readjusting and half-rolling over to look up at him.
“I’m free tomorrow,” you shrugged your shoulders, yawning.
His eyes narrowed, but you could see the smirk trying to tug up on his lips. He looked at you, then back towards the hall. “I’ll get you some clothes.”
You were tempted to ask for his.
But you were too tired to stand, just mumbling something back and resting your head back on the couch. It smelled like him too.
You only got up when he’d been gone for ten minutes.
Dragging yourself up on sore limbs, bare and barely suppressing a limp as you stumbled towards your open bedroom. Sukuna was standing in front of your closet, scowling at all your clothes like they personally offended him.
“What are you doing?” You yawned, legs still feeling like jelly as you leaned against the open doorway.
pairings: baby daddy!Geto x f!Reader x coworker!Nanami
content: mdni, angst and fluff, modern coworker au, pregnant reader, messy relationships, jealousy, protective geto, emotional hurt + comfort, aftermath of the fight
Sleeping in Suguru Geto's bed was not where you thought you'd end up tonight.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked from the doorway, leaning against it while you curled up on your side, one of his t-shirts and pairs of sweatpants clinging just below your bump as you readjusted under the covers.
"No," You mumbled, wiping away another stray tear. You hated that any had fallen in the first place.
You didn't want to cry over Nanami. Didn't want to let him hold any power over you at all.
But the betrayal refused to soften, the edges of it too sharp, the taste too bitter on your tongue. It sat in your stomach, heavy, thick, like sludge that refused to flush out.
The idea of going back to your place, of sleeping in the bed you had sex with him on, it was more nauseating than any of the other morning sickness you felt so far.
So you let Suguru take you back to his. Let him rub little circles on your back on the elevator ride up to his apartment. Leaned against his sturdy frame while you struggled not to sob.
And when you were inside, you insisted on cleaning his knuckles in his bathroom, wiping the blood from the shallow cuts and using a frozen ice pack from his fridge to reduce the swelling. He didn't say much - waited for you to be the one to speak up. Giving you the space he thought you needed and offering his bedroom for you to sleep in.
He was willing to take the couch.
The second bedroom had already been converted into a nursery. It didn't have a crib yet - but he already built a small wooden dresser and anchored it, the corners baby proofed and the outlets covered, all four walls painted a soft blue with little glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. You wondered if it'd been an office or a home gym before - what he'd given up to make more space for you and his baby in his life.
"I'll be right down the hall," He murmured softly. "If you need anything."
Something in your chest shifted, an invisible string pulling tight as you heard him take the first step away.
"Um, Suguru?" You called out, wincing at the ache in your back muscles when you tried to sit up more.
He stopped automatically, and you wondered why it'd taken you so long to see what was right in front of you.
"Will you sleep in here with me tonight?" You slowly asked, wincing at how weak you sounded, how fragile you felt. "I don't really want to be alone."
If you were, you'd just stew in your own stupid thoughts and stare at his ceiling until you fell asleep.
"Sure," He blinked, surprised. "Whatever you want."
He'd been inside you before. But somehow laying in bed next to him was more awkward than anything else you'd done together. Your ass still hurt. Your eyes were sore from the few minutes of crying you snuck in when he was showering earlier. Your stomach was starting to get too heavy to make laying on your back comfortable, forced to lay on your side and either stare at the wall or him.
Suguru was better to look at.
He felt your eyes first, taking off a thin pair of reading glasses and rolling over to look at you too, all those features you used to think were harsh softening at the sight of you on his sheets and in his shirt.
"I'm sorry," He apologized to you, but you didn't have any blame left to put on him. Not when you were starting to realize that maybe this hatred had all been misunderstandings stacking on each other, the influence of someone you thought saw you as a person instead of a pawn.
"It's not really your fault," You shrugged, stifling a yawn. Honestly, it could've been pregnancy hormones, but something about him standing up for you, not holding his punches and proving what a piece of shit Nanami was without hesitation, it was kind of hot.
"I should've known sooner," He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes.
"It wasn't like you had any way to," You excused, your stare drifting down to his bruised knuckle resting over the blanket. You wanted to touch it. To press your lips to it as some form of apology.
You really wanted to cry some more.
But you didn't want him to feel bad.
"I keep replaying every conversation I've ever had with him," Suguru exhaled, and you could feel the weight of his guilt from here. "Back when we were friends. Wondering what the fuck I could've done to-"
"Suguru," You stopped him, your fingers starting to stretch out, but you chickened out before you could actually touch him. "I don't blame you."
You could still see it on his face he blamed himself.
The deep-set crease between his brows, the tight clench of his jaw before he attempted to let go of the stress in his shoulders, letting them slump as he scooted a few inches closer to you.
"If he tries to talk to you again," Suguru slowly started, and the lump in his throat bobbed hard, like he couldn't even say it.
"I still have to see him at work," You murmured, and his mouth twitched. Clearly unhappy at the thought of you having to exchange emails and coexist in the break room with the guy he just gave a black eye and busted lip.
"When does your maternity leave start?" He carefully asked, struggling to sound not completely pissed.
"Not until after I have the baby," You admitted.
They'd given you the option to start a week or two before your due date - but you'd rather just spend as much time with your baby as possible before you had to go back.
"You don't have to work if you don't want to," Suguru softly said, reluctant and slow. Like he wasn't sure if he'd scare you away. "I mean, I could cover your bills, or you could move in-"
"I know you feel bad, but I don't think that's a good idea," You managed to answer back, but your throat felt dry.
You didn't need him to pity you.
Nanami had only been interested in you because of Suguru. And Suguru was only still here because you were having his baby.
You felt gross. Your body was barely yours. You didn't feel like yourself any more. Would the you from a year ago have fallen for Nanami's shit? Believe these budding feelings for Suguru?
"Why?" He asked, not pushy, but sincere. He reached out, a hand on your side, pulling you closer until your baby bump was just barely brushing against him. He traced over it, like it wasn't unattractive. Like you weren't disgusting - something to be kept at arms length. "I'm not trying to be a dick, it's just, would it really so bad to live together?"
"It wouldn't be," You admitted, biting your bottom lip. It would probably even be nice. To not have to divide parenting time or travel back-and-forth. To split bills instead of paying for your own place. "But you'd get sick of me, and I mean, I can't ask anything like that from you."
And what would happen then? Once he had enough?
You'd move out and start over again? Have to find a new apartment with a baby strapped to your chest?
Suguru looked at you as if it was absurd, placing his palm directly on the swell of your stomach, feeling the faint flutter of his baby kicking underneath your skin. His eyes drifted down, and despite tonight, all the drama and the disgust for your own shitty decisions still clinging to you like Nanami's cologne had, he still smiled. One corner of his lips curling up as he traced a small heart with the edge of his thumb nail.
"I'm not going to get sick of you," He promised.
"You barely know me," You rolled your eyes, but you didn't move his hand away. You had a feeling he wouldn't budge anyway. "If it wasn't for the baby-"
"You're stubborn," Suguru breathed. He leaned in closer, his head next to yours on the pillow now, his nose brushing against yours like he might kiss you between words. "And smart."
You were ready to protest. To tell him that you were an annoying moron who couldn't even tell when a guy wasn't even genuinely interested in you. But he wasn't finished.
"And the little face you make when you're mad at me is so hot it makes me want to pull someone's hair, but I can never decide if it should be mine or yours," He teased, all low and honeyed, a little smudge of toothpaste left on his lips.
You reached out, dragged your thumb over it to wipe it off before letting the breath you'd been holding go.
He still had more to say, but you were starting to worry that another sentence or two might have you caving.
"Are you trying to make me feel better?" You squinted at him, letting your suspicion seep into the question.
"I'm just finally being fucking honest with you for once," He muttered casually.
You scrunched your nose up at him, hiding how shaky your breath was. Part of you wondered what would've happened if he had sooner.
Or what your life might look like right now if he hadn't knocked you up.
He yawned now, and you didn't get a good night kiss. Just his firm fingers pushing your hair back out of your face.
"We can talk about it more tomorrow," He murmured. "Get some sleep."
You nodded, letting the subject drop, about to roll over and try to forget the tension in the air.
But his hand returned to your hip after he turned the lights out, his mouth brushing against your shoulder one last time.
"By the way," He casually added in a hushed whisper, breath tantalizingly warm against your skill. "I'd still want to take you on a date even if you weren't having my baby."
thinking about making out with suguru while he fingers you.
it starts off with deep and languid kisses, reverent and passionate, yet not necessarily desirous. he slots himself between your legs as you lie back against the mattress, torso draped over yours as he cradles your face in his hands, guiding the kisses.
lips dancing with lips, to a silent tune, his tongue twirling yours almost romantically. he hums throatily in between kisses, vibrating against your mouth before he swallows your moan that follows.
he whispers your name, sounding so achingly in love, unable to control the surge of his emotions.
with his fingers still cradling your face, he tilts it to the side, deepening the kiss further. his teeth graze over your tongue before he captures it between his lips, sucking it into his mouth. he suckles on it like the tip of an ice pop, opening his eyes halfway with a heady gaze. this time, a groan bubbles up from his chest as he watches your face.
his loose hair cascades over his features like a veil and your fingers move up to tuck the long strands behind his ear.
he releases your tongue moments after, parting with heavy breaths as he dips his head to trail his lips along the column of your neck instead. his fingers twitch against your hip, restraining himself from ravishing you.
but you feel it. and you also feel the heated arousal pooling in your panties, staining the fabric with sugary juices.
as he sucks flesh into his mouth, gently nipping at it, you take his hand and guide it down to the soaked fabric.
another groan, louder, ruined.
“just from kisses, huh? you get this wet for me?” he murmurs, scraping his teeth against your collarbone as his fingertips skim the lace hem of your panties.
“mhmm...” you buck your hips up, inviting him to touch you. “you always make me needy.”
“fuck,” he breathes, shuddering.
he complies with your desire, tugging your panties to the side and strumming his fingers through the strings of your arousal connecting your dewy lips. your hips gravitate to his touch.
a smug smirk tugs at his lips when he notices. “so eager.”
“no teasing, please,” you mumble, your pleading eyes meeting his gleaming ones in the dim lighting of your shared bedroom.
“since you asked so nicely,” he hums, sliding his middle finger through your folds and curling it inside you, earning himself a soft moan.
he latches his lips onto yours once more, kissing you at a similar pace to his finger plunging inside you. his ring finger joins his other, and this time, a gasp is forced from between your lips. he takes the opportunity to glide his wet, pink muscle back into your mouth, rolling it over yours.
his free hand still cups your cheek, keeping you in place to kiss you silly in the way he wants.
as he gets consumed in the caress of his mouth against yours, his fingers pause in their movements, solely focused on devouring your taste. addicted, unable to withdraw.
“suguru,” you mewl, humping against his hand, asking for more as your juices run down his digits and your walls suck them in encouragingly.
“mm?” it's a gentle rumble against your lips, distracted.
when he parts from you after a few more moments, a string of your mixed saliva connects your tongue to his. it snaps and his heavy-lidded, darkened purple eyes fixate on the glisten on your chin. he leans in again. he licks it off slowly, the bumps of his tongue dragging firmly over your skin.
he's so drunk on you.
“touch me properly.”
at that, his fingers begin to move in and out of you again. he hooks them up, the pads of his fingers pushing into that spot like a button. insistent. you recite his name like a prayer and your fingers tighten in his hair, causing a groan to ghost against your lips.
“yeah? you like that?” he whispers, watching your features warp into the embodiment of bliss. a smirk makes itself known on his face. “look at you. got so needy from some kisses and now you're soaking my fingers.”
you whine in response, but it's almost drowned out by the obnoxious squelch that gushes from your pussy, only emphasising his words.
“she's so talkative today,” he teases, referring to the she who's currently swallowing his fingers up.
you tug on his hair, bringing him close again and kissing him to keep his mouth shut. he chuckles lowly into the kiss, though eagerly reciprocates.
he feels the heat of your creamy arousal trickle down his thick, skilful fingers. slowing down the pace, he focuses on curling them just right, at the perfect angle, the most precise position, the sweetest spot. the wet noises of your quivering hole only grow louder, along with your wrecked moans that he swallows up, letting them slither down his throat as he kisses you.
and when you break the kiss to whine, “hngh fuck, right t-there, sugu, please,” he chases after your lips, your taste, your touch.
“shh, i know, pretty, i know. just feel good for me, yeah? and let me kiss these gorgeous lips.”
he runs his thumb over your bottom lip before capturing it between his own lips, sucking gently until you both know that it'll be swollen with his love later.
you feel his fingers stutter against your walls, losing focus, losing control, losing himself in the kisses. becoming desperate, you grip his wrist and encourage him to move his fingers yourself, tugging and pushing.
“mhm, yeah, take what you need, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, moving his fingers in time with your hips, working together to drive you over the edge.
his hues skirt down your body to where his fingers are buried to the knuckles inside you, his gaze becoming heavier and darker, you can practically feel it burning into your flesh. marked as his.
as he gets hypnotised by the erotic rhythm of your hips and the uncontrollable sway of your body as you creep closer to the peak, he glides the tip of his tongue over his kiss-swollen lip.
“so close, aren't you?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss below your ear, tracing down the length of your neck and he hears your thick swallow.
he focuses the crook of his fingers against the anterior wall of your teary cunt and his thumb fiddles with your clit like an instrument he's learnt so well, obscene noises leaking from your lower lips mingling with the ragged pants and moans that leave your mouth.
“‘m close, ‘m close... f-fuck ‘m cumming... ah!” you gasp, back arching slightly off the bed, thighs clenching around his arm and your fingers tightening on his wrist. your whole body stiffens beneath him before twitching violently as your sweet sap flows down his fingers, his palm and the back of his hand.
he slows his pace to allow you to ride out your pleasure. and once your trembling comes to a stop, he presses one final. lingering kiss to your lips before shuffling down the bed, down your body until his face becomes level with your glistening pussy. his eyes flick up to your flushed features and he smiles crookedly.
“i should pay attention to these pretty lips now, huh?”
pairings- emperor! gojo x arranged empress! reader
summary -you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do with all of that, he doesn't even come to your first meeting - rude! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts, but it turns out he doesn't know that you're not happy to be here either. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is?
contents/warnings - heavy angst, depression, enemies to lovers, longing, mutual pining, explicit smut, back and forth games, court tactics, Satoru being a hoe, reader missing her lover Suguru, a fuck ton of drama and games, he falls hard. This chap - fingering, squirting, sexual tension, a fuck ton of angst, a wet dream, letters from Suguru, reader's past, jealousy on both ends, toxic Satoru (when isn't he in my fics lmao) love octagons atp, idk - enjoy - WC 11k
If you enjoy, rbs and comments are so appreciated! Taglist closed
<<<part one - playlist - part three (soon)
Part Two
You sure do turn down tea with your husband with a delighted smile the next morning, sure maybe you’re petty, maybe you’re vindictive, but it feels too good. You can’t resist feeling some sense of satisfaction at how offended he surely was, as you have tea brought to your room instead.
It’s comfy, alone in your chambers, where you don’t have to see the prying eyes of everyone at court, where you don’t have to worry so terribly about seeing your now husband with his hoard of women. You had to see it before you two wed, and you definitely already had a distaste for it - if anything it was a given, you’re sure he spent the night with them.
You don’t care for him, you don’t even think you like him, but it still is just utter disrespect to not even do your obligation to the empire in lieu of going around with his whores- sorry, concubines- instead. You hate that you even think that way, but something about having him all over you then just turning you down flat was just hurtful to your self esteem.
You try to act as if you’ve got it all together, a front for the conniving girls you’ve already run into, but it’s not completely true that you feel that way. When you disrobed and acted so boldly, you had been terrified of his gaze on you, of what if you couldn’t compete with them, but you held your composure because that was how you were trained to be.
Also, a voice in the back of your head - Suguru’s.
Whispering you’re beautiful, composing little poems he’d sneak into your hand as you both would pass each other in the halls of your castle, of your home. You ache for the carefree moments, the captured and hidden times you stole with him in the halls, under the stairwell, his soft smile and lidded gaze.
The emptiness builds, as you just lay there in your bed and think of what your life will be now, what it will entail. Feeling the guilt of enjoying last night eating you alive - what if you forgot Suguru? What if Satoru’s touch and gaze truly confused you enough, where you wanted to have all of him? What if you fell, and to share a man, a man who could never be yours.
Terrifying, to think of how badly you wanted him last night. You can only hope it was just that, just physical, something that comes from lack of experience, you can explain it away in a method that leaves you feeling just a modicum less of the guilt hot and heavy.
Soon you’re summoned, when aren’t you being summoned since you got here truly, to go play chess with Satoru. At this point it took you by surprise, when the three girls showed up in the chambers you like to hole inside of. It’s where you could be left alone with your thoughts without all the prying eyes taking hold.
Miwa smiles, the other two attendants look at you with haughty, raised brows, as you all begin to walk through the halls, to places you haven’t yet seen, a more secluded part, but you get to hear the neverending fucking court gossip on the way. You're sick to your stomach as you walk by Gojo's apparent favorite concubine, who mockingly bows at you.
“Your majesty,” she says magnanimously, as if she respects you.
You incline your head, as you wonder if it was her pavilion he went to after rejecting you. Thoughts and visions of what he'd done to you, the intimates you shared, and how he must have went much further. You hate that jealousy is seeping its way into your mind like a poison, like the venom in which she says your name then, and you wonder if it was her last night.
Why did you care, let the man whore around, it’s not as if you can do anything about it, even if it fills you with disgust. You manage to plaster on a fake fucking smile as she dares to make small talk with you. With the way the man whores it's a wonder he's not gotten them all pregnant, a curiosity that is in your mind now.
Would he get them all pregnant before you could? What happens then, if you can’t give him babies, does he decide to kill you or would he be merciful and perhaps get rid of you? The second option sounds better than this, passing girls who are fighting to become concubines themselves for whatever fifth position you suppose is left open from another girl.
“Hello, my lady,” you hear Satoru’s mother then, you genuinely smile at her, as she looks at the walking ladies with concern. “How are you my dear?”
“I’m all right, my lady, still very tired I think.”
“No, it’s quite normal on a wedding night, hmm?” Her ladies and yours giggle, you pretend to join them. “I’m glad to hear he wants to play chess, it’s his favorite game since he was a boy. No one’s ever won against him!”
“Ah, I can’t wait.”
To beat his arrogant ass at it.
She nods, and soon you’re led outside to a beautiful field of green grass on a hill, and you see the emperor sitting there waiting on you, sipping on a silver goblet, his rings glinting in the sun. His eyes catch you as you give him a bow at the bottom of the steps, taking in the odd serenity of the place, your ladies leave you both alone as you stand there.
“Come on up, Empress,” he says softly, a smile on his face. “You were too tired for tea, hmm?”
“Indeed your majesty, please forgive me.” Your mean smirk tells him all he needs to, you’re a petty little fucking creature, and it just endlessly makes him more enamored, when every woman he knows is soft and sweet - to have a little villain is intriguing him more than he’d admit.
“Sit, sit.” You do just that, he can’t help but remember last night vividly as you perch on the chair across from him, smiling like you actually could like him, a fake little one.
He’s seen your real one and it’s not meant for him.
“Thank you for inviting me to play this, your Majesty.”
“Hah, I am sure you have no clue of what this game is, hmm?” Satoru is cocky as he leans back, and you want to smack the smirk off his pretty face.
As if you didn’t know chess, as if you hadn’t been the best player there was, you used to make grown men cry and demand a rematch, until they realized just who they were insulting - the princess - and backed down. You and Suguru played constantly, along with your most trusted advisor Mr. Nanami, he was the one who originally taught you.
The longing for your home fills you from just such a small little detail now, you swallow it down as you remember sitting across from them, across from your dad and playing the game. Across from the boy you ended up falling for. It was by far one of your favorite games, though you loved a little cricket and a good game of cards too.
But let him think you’re clueless, his loss will be that much sweeter.
“Oh dear, what’s this game?” You ask, blinking a bit and putting on a fake little smile, Satoru chuckles and leans forward, his blue silken robes falling just so, showcasing his strong chest as he eyes the board.
“I had a feeling you’d not know, princesses are taught to be good wives, not much else. But if you’re to be with me, I would enjoy it if you had a little intellect, I’m not traditional I’m afraid.”
You almost kick him under that fucking table.
“How magnanimous of you, your majesty! To let women play such a man’s game, oh the kindness.” You’re fluttering your lashes some more, he pauses then, eyes narrowing at you.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Not at all! Maybe I’m wrong about you. Do teach me.” You lean forward, resting your chin on your dainty hand as he eyes you, studying how the sun is casting shadows across your pretty face under the gazebo.
You’re so stunning he can hardly stand it, how effortlessly you make him crave more, only to give him your cold, evil smile. Him, Satoru Gojo, the emperor who everyone either fears or loves, to have a girl utterly disinterested in him. It was endlessly infuriating, and he fully intended to know exactly what was your problem with him at some point.
Surely after he drank your cunt last night, you’d show a little affection, a little blush or something!? But instead, you have some evil look in your eyes, they’re glittering like two gems if he could ever find any that color. He’d scour the fucking country if he could replicate it, a foolish thought that your impudent little attitude was making worse.
Instead of going to his favorite concubine to play, he asked you, and after you turned down his tea invitation - like the spiteful brat you are - he didn’t know if you’d show up for a game you don’t know. But you’re smiling and nodding, like there’s no thoughts in your head, and he doesn’t trust it for shit. Especially when your fingers elegantly take a rook in them.
“Hmm, I think I’ll move this cute little castle over here!” You’re feigning the lack of knowledge, watching with each move as Emperor Gojo’s anger grows, his blue eyes narrowing, plush lips pursed, a little sweat on his brow.
“I see, you catch on quickly I suppose, that’s a good move,” he manages, moving his queen now, and you see it - a weakness forming in his protection of the most important piece in the game.
“Ah, thank you, your majesty, you’re so kind,” he glares again, leaning back in the seat as his thighs brush yours under the table. “I’ll place the cute horse here!”
You move the elegantly carved golden piece, and he glares now, furious as he realizes it - you’ve just put him in fucking check!?
“You’ve never played?” He raises a thin brow, and you sigh, shrugging a shoulder, your silk robes fall just a bit, revealing too much of your creamy skin, his throat goes dry as he forgets the game.
“Do you think I have? Am I rather good at it, your majesty?” You have the audacity to run your fingertips across your neck, gently touching a pretty gold necklace that he notices you wear.
“You’re adequate I suppose,” he’s lying out of his ass, and all he can think of is what is that necklace? Of touching your skin, so distracted he makes the only move he can. “Bloody hell…”
“Aha, I think I’ll use this cute bishop and… there! That’s checkmate.” You’re giggling with delight, an evil fucking laugh, and he’s dumbfounded then.
He again wonders just who the fuck you are, and why he’s so intrigued with the girl who seemingly is the only person who doesn’t want him, and the only person who has ever bested him at this game. You stand then, a hand in front of your face as you try to cover your malicious little smile.
“Again.”
“Oh, again? Certainly your majesty.” You sit back down and proceed to anihilate him in four games in a row, each one a quicker defeat with his growing frustration, his jaw tenses as he looks at you then.
“How long have you played chess, Empress?”
“Hmm, since I was about three I suppose.” He curses under his breath now, lashes lowering over those cerulean eyes.
“And you acted stupid?”
“No, you assumed I was not adept at this game, I just let you believe it. I do love when you assume I’m not well versed, remember me sucking your-”
“Jesus!” He stands then, blushing as he leans over the table, an arm on either side, scowling at you deeper. “You’re an insolent brat.”
“Who is really good at chess.” You tilt your head, as Satoru sighs, looking down at the board.
“Indeed, you are. What got you interested?”
“You want to know about me?” You say it as if it’s the worst thing in the world, he opens his lips to say the truth.
Yes, he wants to know about you.
But Concubine Lola and one of the other girls come in then, giggling and tittering as they run over to him, you blink in shock as he allows them too - as if they didn’t know their place wasn’t blatantly in front of you. They’re kissing on him, his head, his cheeks, as his hands brush down their waists, and he eyes you then, sardonic and conceited, as if this display is impressive.
“Chess, I bet you beat her so quickly! He’s amazing you know,” she gives you a nasty smile as she sits on Satoru’s lap, and you see his eyes widen as if in fear as he looks to you. “Don’t feel bad, I lose all the time.”
“I didn’t lose.” It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop, the other girl kisses Satoru right on the fucking mouth then, while Lola tugs his hand closer.
The sickness rises like bile in your throat, no you two have no connection, but to know he kissed you last night - everywhere - and to see this? What a cruel fucking joke it was, when the man you love is back home an ocean apart, when everything you loved or wanted is gone all for him.
You tremble as he pulls back then, his gaze is no longer cocky, not when he sees your face, and the way your eyes glimmer. He clears his throat, and gently nudges them off him, but neither budges unfortunately, instead touching him obscenely, a display he doesn’t think either of them have done in public. He at first thought it amusing but now he feels almost trapped.
“I am having time with my wife, ladies,” he says chidingly, when you stand up, and he feels the guilt eating at him - and why?
He’s an emperor, he’s supposed to do this, even if he should not have such a display in front of you - maybe that’s it… no. it’s not that. It’s the fact that you look disgusted right now, you’re already disinterested in him beyond any shadow of a doubt, but he hadn’t seen that look yet, a look that makes him want to tell them to fuck off and beg your forgiveness.
“You two should know your place,” you say, a soft yet commanding voice, both concubines gasp at it. “You wait for your emperor to see you, you don’t disrespect him and all propriety by running around half naked and practically humping his fucking leg in front of me.”
“Your majesty-”
“Let her speak,” his voice is soft, you scoff, shaking your head. “Go on.”
“You should have better control of your subjects, but it’s all ultimately your decision, however I know each of you have been trained properly - and that’s not how you conduct yourselves around your betters.”
“Our betters?”
“Yes, I am your better.” They’re pouting now, as you cross your arms, eyeing the last move, where you’d put him in check in three solid moves. You smile as you pick up the queen piece then, twirling it a bit. “It’s not that you can’t have him, you certainly can, but I’ll not have disrespect in my face again. Understood?”
“Satoru!”
“You are mere pawns my dears,” you knock over four pawns, to represent each of his concubines, then your gaze catches him, you’re so fucking sexy like this he can’t focus.
It’s you he wants on his lap.
It’s you he wants to kiss.
It’s like you’re all he sees when you have the audacity to knock over his king piece too. “Oops, an accident your majesty.”
You fix the piece right, setting the queen right next to it, his fists clench at his side now. “Go on you two.”
“No need, your majesty, allow them the attention. I’ll go to my rooms, I have some things I’d like to write about.” You curtsey, all elegant as your hair falls over your shoulders, and he can hardly stand how his heart races.
“Nonsense, let me -”
“Farewell.”
You’re walking away, your skirts swishing when Satoru jumps up, the two girls falling off his lap, to grip your delicate wrist in his hand, you once again hate that his touch feels good. You hate the goosebumps that trail across your skin, the way him murmuring your name makes you feel.
“Yes? What do you require of me?” You ask now, and he sighs, lips parted as he falters.
“That won’t happen again, they’re not used to me having a wife.”
“A wife.” It’s almost laughable.
You’re his wife.
“Please,” he steps closer, and you step back just a bit, swallowing down your nausea. “It won’t happen like that again.”
“It matters naught to me, it just isn’t a good look your majesty.” You blink and feign that you don’t fucking care, like you don’t feel disgusted and disrespected constantly here.
“Satoru! Come back!” You eye them, leaning to the side, when he takes your hands in his, and you look at them, swallowing yours, elegant hands that could paint a picture, yet strong enough to wield a weapon, talented enough to make you writhe underneath him.
“They want you back.”
“And I’m fucking talking to you,” he leans down now, you swallow - throat dry - inhaling his scent, something intoxicating, as his eyes light up. “I didn’t ask them to come here.”
“You’re the emperor, you’re entitled to fuck them all you want, just not right in front of me. Is that okay to ask?”
He’s sputtering again, shaking his head. “You think I fucked them?”
“Didn’t you, last night?” You whisper, the thoughts almost making you cry, he shakes his head then, surprising you. “You didn’t?”
“No,” it’s a quiet answer, you see no reason for him to lie - if anything the man was prone to boast. You look down at his chest then. “I slept in my room.”
Jerking off to you.
“Ah, so why’d you say that?”
“I don’t know,” it’s an honest answer, for once you can sense somewhat of that sincerity, almost boyish in his look then, almost sweet when his thumb brushes the underside of your wrist, tracing a raised vein. “Will you have dinner with me?”
“You’re not demanding it of me?” You ask, soft so the women whispering about you cannot hear.
“I’m asking for it. And no, they will not be showing up to dinner.”
“Ah, very well. I shall attend, just let Kiyotaka inform me when.” You smile, and he scoffs at that. “What?”
“You like him don’t you?”
“His monocle is charming, hmm… would it bother you?” You step closer, raising your chin, your hair falling back now. “With all your women?”
“Yes it would bother me, foolish girl.”
“Never mind on dinner-”
“No, please just… you’ll have dinner with me.” You almost laugh at him then, giving him a little nod. “I’ll send Kiyotaka. Don’t look so fucking happy.”
“Your Majesty,” you give him an annoying ass bow, eyeing him under your lashes, heart achingly beautiful and cold when you peer at the girls. “I’ll let you beat them at chess, I’m afraid that won’t happen with me.”
“Oh really?” Your lips tilt up at the corner, you turn away again and leave, fuck he wants to follow you, he wants to play again, the thrill of you beating him, besting him?
Fuck it does something.
The problem is, he’s absolutely sure you don’t want to be near him, and the shit timing of the concubines isn’t helping a goddamn thing.
*****
You’re in tears despite acting so tough when you enter your lonely chambers, well they’re lonely now, after you kicked the ladies right out, in lieu of getting undressed yourself. You’re down to just a slip of material, thin and white, sighing as you study yourself in the mirror, touching the gold necklace like a lifeline, next to the chain lays a mark from him.
From Satoru Gojo.
Did he mark all of them, did he devour them like you? You know this was what is expected of an empress, but it doesn’t make it any easier, already after one day of marriage you’re having self doubt. You don’t know what the feeling is eating at you alive, but you detest it, the inadequacy you’ll hide with bold confident gestures, and hope you play it off well enough.
You shakily take out a letter, one of the last ones passed between you and your love, your teardrops have smeared the ink, blotting and spreading it in places, fading a few of the letters. You take several breaths as you read the letters carefully, lovingly, over and over, as if to make him physically real.
My princess,
It is my utmost wish to always make you smile. Today as I watched you practice your dance, I could not help but picture how it would feel to have you in my arms, spinning you on the dance floor. I suppose it’s a foolish thought, one that will never happen in public, but perhaps one evening I’ll twirl you on the floor, watch your face light up like it does.
I cannot wait to taste your lips upon mine once more, I cannot get the memories out of my head, I’ve already lost terribly in training I’m afraid. A bit of a shock when the notorious Sir Geto has been taken down by a young boy with a stick sword. But your vision flashed through my mind, and I was lost in it.
Until I can see you again,
Your Suguru
You’re a mess, picking up another letter you snuck with you, with the few comforts from back home, these were difficult to place, you hid them with a few stitches in your gowns, as everything was inspected when you entered the palace. Your fingers tremble as they touch another, on that parchment paper of his that’s just a little withered from the amount of times you’ve folded it.
My princess,
My thoughts in this letter are unforgivable in nature, but I can’t stop myself, when I remember your perfect breast in my hand, your pulse against my lips as it raced. The way your back arched, and I could feel your heat on my thigh, I confess my mind has been thinking the most wicked things ever since.
I would love to bury my face right under your skirts - I shall surely be taken down for even thinking such a thought, but here they are. Thoughts of drinking my Princess up, thoughts of you tugging at my hair as I make you feel such ecstasy, of course that would not be all I do, but a start, a show of how much I want, crave and need you.
Those thoughts are keeping me up all night.
Until we meet again,
Your Suguru.
“Fuck…” You’re exhaling as the memories make you press your thighs together, god Satoru surely made you cum with his wicked tongue - but there were no emotions with him.
A kiss with a man who loved you, or having a man who doesn’t care about you licking your cunt? The pleasure was there, but that merely adds to your guilt, it merely makes everything a million times worse. The things you wanted with Suguru first were being taken, you’re sure eventually he’ll make love to you - no, he’ll fuck you.
Satoru doesn’t look like a man who makes love.
You take out the last letter, and your heart races as you read it, remembering the moment vividly, touching your own thigh as your eyes shut, sitting in front of your vanity and losing yourself. You can’t stop stupid ass Satoru from entering your thoughts when you caress yourself, as much as you try to shove him back, his annoyingly blue eyes boring into you.
“Fuck that,” you huff now, eyeing the letter once more, until you’re touching yourself over your skirts, feeling the heat. “Focus, remember.”
You picture it, Suguru’s fingers sinking and stretching you for the first time, how his amethyst eyes lit up, and he watched you fall apart for him, whispering how beautiful you were like that. Whispering the most sweet yet filthy things - so tight, princess - and - god I need you, wrapped around me.
You’re rubbing your fingers up and down your slit, gasping out - when an unfortunate white haired ass comes into your vision again. He’s fingering you harder, faster, up and down motions that feel too intense. He’s sucking you off his fingers like Suguru did, but instead of devotion and tenderness, it was psychotic, it was like he enjoyed making you a mess.
Unfortunately, you’re gushing, and you feel like the worst sinner in the fucking world, for thinking of both men. You pull your finger off in frustration, beating chess alone had you soaking wet - he’s the most annoying man in existence truly, to constantly get this fucking reaction from you.
You try to nap, to dream of your love, but of course you’re instead lost in a dream of Satoru - but this time he’s with Suguru, and touching you in front of him. The hurt in Suguru’s eyes makes you fight it, the touches, but your body reacts, your body loves them, and soon you’re moaning, biting your lower lip in your dream state.
Soon Suguru’s tugging you, touching you, and the men are all over you, every inch of your body smothered with their affection, with their hungry eager lips and fingers, and you’re lost between them. Pressed up against Satoru’s chest, as Suguru kisses up your neck from behind, and you’re having your cunt played with by both of them, one finger inside, the other toying your clit.
‘She’s mine, aren’t you empress?’ Satoru asks in your dream, his blue eyes flashing with desire, you shake your head.
‘She’s mine, princess aren’t you?’ you nod to Suguru, when he kisses your mouth, only for Satoru to jerk your chin back to him.
‘Then why am I in this dream, hmm?’ he’s asking as he’s brushing his hand over your breast, Suguru pulling you to his chest and burying his face against your neck. ‘Explain why I’m in this dream, if you hate me?’
The dream is so vivid you almost cum from it, almost cry from it as it wraps your subconscious, only to be thankfully woken up by a gentle rap on the door. You hastily stand up, grabbing a silky red robe and tying it quickly, trying to ignore the clenching in your tummy, the throbbing of your cunt as you hate yourself for thinking of the emperor. You open the door and your shoulders relax just a bit when you see it’s Kiyotaka.
“Hello, Ijichi,” you say fondly, he smiles and bows while you open the door for him. “How are you doing today, I fear I took a nap.”
“I’m doing well, my lady,” he takes your hand and presses a kiss, pink decorating his cheeks. “You’re stunning even after a nap.”
“Not at all! Oh why can’t you be emperor?” You pout and he blushes more, earning your little giggle.
“You jest too much, my lady.” He stands now, clearing his throat, hands firmly behind him. “His Majesty said dinner will be ready in half an hour, should I send Miwa to dress you?”
“Oh, yes that’s fine, thank you. Will you be there?” He is bright red when you lean against the doorway on one hip.
“I will be there, serving his majesty.”
“Lame.” Kiyotaka snorts in laughter, before catching himself, you grin mischievously at him.
“My lady!”
“Sorry, I’ll act correctly, don’t worry, send Miwa up please.”
“Of course.” He bows with his hands under his wide sleeves, before darting off, a flustered mess because of you truly. You can’t help but enjoy him, the sweetness and friendship you all built that quickly. Miwa is soon in your room, you’ve also grown to get a little used to her in the past few days, much different than the other two girls.
“You look so lovely, your majesty,” she says then, her eyes twinkling as she sees your hair pins. “Which one should we use?”
“Why don’t you take this one,” you hand her a beautiful purple one, she blinks in surprise. “Please take it.”
“Oh thank you!” You smile and stand, slipping it into her hair, that’s swept up into a pretty coif, then eye the hair pin Suguru gave you, next to the one Satoru did.
To wear Suguru’s would be ridiculous, right?
Your fingers touch Suguru’s simple one, and touch the blue intricate one the emperor gave you instead. “Let’s do both.”
“Of course!” She places both pins in your hair, before turning and brushing just a little blush across your cheeks with her fingers, smiling then. “You look perfect, I know his majesty will be pleased.”
Like you care.
“That’s most kind, thank you Miwa.” You two walk out then, through the elegant halls, you see the shadows moving behind the doors.
I heard he doesn’t even like her.
I heard she was rude to his favorite, Lola!
Surely he would prefer sweet Lola to the mean new empress.
You hear a mix of hatred, spite, curiosity and some compassion as you pass, Miwa is tense, as if she knows what they’re saying as well, trying to distract you by telling you different places you’ve not seen yet. She’s certainly a bright spot, her jabbering is absolutely what you need after hearing more and more gossip.
Is she truly mean? She seemed kind.
She is rude I heard, Lola’s maids said so!
But isn’t it hard to be just one of many?
Thankfully, by the time you enter the hall, the talking has ceased, you see a chair at the complete opposite of where Satoru sits and take it, earning his scowl across the room. It’s meant to seat fifty people easily. You thank the servant for your plate kindly, holding your glass out as Ijichi pours your wine, and you greet your husband.
“I can’t even fucking hear you over there?”
“Oh, hello!” You shout now, raising your glass, Satoru almost kills Miwa and Ijichi for giggling with the other servants in the room, littered with paintings of all the Gojos all over the enormous sapphire painted walls. Like they’re fucking watching you, creepily all having the same insane ass blue eyes.
Sure they were beautiful - but also fuck him.
“How was your day!” You shout again, Ijichi almost loses it, coughing in his hand when Satoru stands, his hands gripping either side of the banquet table.
“Why sit there?”
“It’s a lovely seat!”
“Come sit closer, now.” He commands you, the voice you expect from an emperor who has been to battle, one you haven’t heard from him yet.
There’s no saying no to this, you already have surely annoyed the shit out of a man who could easily get rid of you. You take a breath and eye him from across the ridiculously large banquet table, beautiful even though you can’t stand him, he’s elegant and perfect as always in his robes, daringly low cut as if the man lives to show off his body.
You wish you didn’t find him so distractingly pretty, just as he wishes he could stop thinking of how badly he wants you, how badly he wants to know more about you, but he can’t find a fucking way to say it. He already knows some man is in your heart, in your head, it makes him sick as much as it makes him want to be someone you think of instead.
In the most unhealthy way, he wants you obsessed, as he is with you, with his constant thoughts since he encountered you in those baths, not uninterested like you are. He watches you hesitate from across the room before sighing and picking up your plate, but Kiyotaka takes it with a smile, carrying it over next to Satoru.
You smile thankfully, and Satoru aches further in his chest. “Would you ever smile at me that way?” He finally gives in and asks it, you blink in surprise.
“Would you give me a reason to, your majesty?” You ask, walking to the seat next to him, which Kiyotaka has pulled out for you. “Thank you Ijichi.”
“My lady.”
“So you call him by his first name, and won’t even call me Gojo?” He’s clenching his jaw as he speaks, tapping his thigh in irritation, those eyes glinting bright blue.
“Well, I quite like him,” you’ve made Gojo furious now, he shocks you when he leans over, yanking you right on his hard thigh. “I’m not your concubine, you know!”
“You’re right, you’re my wife,” the word feels hollow, everything feels so wrong about it, your body responding to his touch in ways you wish it never, ever would. Your heart races in your chest when you feel your heat pressing on his thigh now, feel the way your pulse races when his lips are too close. “Say it.”
“No,” he chuckles without humor, cupping your face now, a thumb brushing over your lip. “Why say it? It matters naught.”
“It does matter, you are my fucking wife, not a concubine, not some tavern wench, though you certainly fucking act like one.”
“I act like a tavern wench!?”
“Sure do, dropping on your knees, though perhaps it was lovely to have this mouth shut - ah!” He’s slipped his thumb against your lips, for you to bite it, leaving teeth indentations. “You’re a bitch.”
“You’re a whore, and rude! Fuck you.” You go to stand up, and he yanks you back down, tugging you further up his thigh, his other arm wrapping your waist. “I’m not a bitch.”
“You are to me, what because I missed fucking tea? I’m here now, get the fuck over it.”
“Because I don’t want to be here, I don’t want it any more than you do!” You’re nervously playing with your necklace, he scowls at it again, tugging at the charm and seeing initials - S.G. He frowns then, looking up to study you. “What?”
“My initials?” He raises a brow in confusion, you just sigh, shaking your head, swatting his hand away. “Someone with the same?”
“Yes,” you can’t stand his gaze, penetrating every aspect of your body and soul, like he can see right through you - but he doesn’t see you. “If you wish to actually bed me, here isn’t the place for it.”
“If I wish to bed you,” he trails his fingers across your breasts, they rise and fall quickly, goosebumps rising. “I’d do it anywhere, and time, any place, till you’re so full of my cum you can’t move.”
You finally have nothing to say, lips parted at his words, swallowing nervously as he presses a kiss, almost tenderly, on your collarbone, right next to your little gold charm, his other hand slipping up your waist over the satin of your robe. You hear the rustle of it, you feel your body react, is it just desire, is it you wanting to forget your sorrow and just feel something?
“Do you cum in them?”
“Is it your business?” He scowls now at you, and you look down. “An Emperor’s duty is to have many heirs from many women, you expect me not to because you’re bratty about it?”
“Thought you hated tradition,” he scoffs then, little do you know he doesn’t want shit to do with them after one night with you. But he just presses a kiss, right under your chin, sighing as he inhales your scent, so sweet and inviting. “Gojo…”
“There, you can speak my name, hmm?” He’s exhaling, the breath tickling your sensitive skin, while Kiyotaka, Miwa and a few other servants avert their eyes, as if he couldn’t care less. “I do abhor tradition, and your first question, I’ll answer that if you answer mine.”
“You speak in riddles,” you lean closer, back curved just a bit for more of his hungry kisses now, your hand lands in his silken white hair before you can think better about it. “Ask your question then.”
“Who was your lover?” He looks back at you, you flush at his insinuation, his thumb brushes across your collarbone slowly. “The one you’re pining for, the one who apparently touched you.”
“You really want to know who I’m in love with?” You ask, and for some reason the words stab him in the chest, until he can’t breathe, he doesn’t understand exactly how the fuck that occured, or from what, but he hates that thought.
He hates the thought that someone got your pretty smile, and that all he’ll ever get is a mean scowl.
“In love? What’s that nonsense?” He asks, pulling back to grab his sake, he takes a sip and then hands it to you, watching as you take the ceramic dish and place your lips on it.
“Have you ever been in love, you such a worldly man?” You sip it as well, just a drop spilling from the corner of your mouth, Satoru gently brushes it off, sighing.
“You’re a mean little thing.”
“Not saying bitch this time?”
“Well, if the slipper fits.”
“You’re a dick.” You go to get up, but he tugs you back down, and you will never admit how much you love it, love his hard body on yours, love his big fucking hand splaying over your waist, making you feel too much.
“Carry on, let me know the answer. Who was it?” You take a breath, feeling the memories creeping up, your eyes shut for a moment, and he studies you, tilting up your chin. “Do you think of him?”
“Yes,” is all you manage, opening your eyes now. “You cannot be so hypocritical, you turned me down last night you know how that felt?”
“Turned you down, that’s not what that was.” He sighs now, shaking his head. “I will not impose myself on you.”
“Are you furious that I don’t? When every girl you’ve ever met falls to your feet, does it bruise your ego?” He glares, hand tugging at your hair and pulling, making you whine out just a bit.
“Insolent brat, no that’s not it. I did not want to do what you did not want. Does that make any sense?” You feel it then, his sincerity, you nod just a bit, and he releases your hair with a sigh. “You said ‘get it over with’ I will not lay with someone who feels that way.”
“Even if we must have heirs?”
“Even then.” You blink a bit in confusion at who he is, the conundrum that you find yourself more and more curious over.
“Well since you’re being honest with me, it wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying it, okay?” You’re blushing as you speak, looking down at your lap nervously, biting your lip while you shift just a bit. He sees it then, your nerves, your innocence you hide under bold words and actions.
You feel especially vulnerable in the moment, when he sighs and caresses your face, it’s a gentle motion, one that does more than you’ll ever want to admit. He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as you study each other. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop, his eyes darting to your lips, and this time when his thumb brushes, you don’t bite him, you just study him.
“You enjoyed what, my mouth on your pretty cunt?” Does he have to speak this way!? You look down again, for him to stop you. “Ah-ah, look at me.”
“Fine, yes, I liked it okay?” Your words make his heart race, your own eyes slip across his throat, the exposed chest, a finger brushing up and down his chest. “And you liked my mouth.”
“Liked isn’t the word for it,” you heat up further, pulse racing in your ears, while Satoru Gojo leans far, far too close, looking at you with eyes that you try not to fall into. “Were you saving yourself for him?”
“I had no choice but to stay innocent, as my station befits. But yes, I thought he’d be my… first.”
“I see, and he touched you?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Here?” He slips his fingers up, dancing across each golden leaf inlay in your immaculate yukata, feeling you tense, shift in his lap as he slowly trails his fingers down your robe, slipping the skirt up. You watch him, not stopping him, heart pounding out of your chest as you wish you could fight it - the desire for him.
His hands touch your bare thigh, eliciting a gasp from you, he sees your eyes dilate until they’re damn near black, just a ring left of those beautiful gems you call eyes remaining. Your hand doesn’t leave his hair, if anything it’s tightening, tugging at his scalp as your breaths come quicker. Your skin is covered in goosebumps, his thumbs brush right over your knee.
“Yes,” you manage to speak, and he looks down at your bare thigh, humming to himself, trailing across it now, you bite back the moan threatening the back of your throat.
“And here?” He’s slipping higher, you nod then, swallowing nervously as he brushes a thumb against the thin cotton covering your cunt, hopelessly sticky and coated in your arousal. “Here?”
“Yes, what do you care for? As if you don’t have women sucking you every day,” you grip his wrist finally, narrowing your eyes. “What care you if I was touched before?”
“And you came?”
“Yes, I did. I loved him touching me, is that what you want to hear?” You lean forward, lips a breath away, he thumbs your clit, your eyelashes flutter. “Do you like when all your whores suck your cock better than I did?”
“You have a filthy mouth, tsk,” he’s pressing harder, feeling how wet you are, while you grip his wrist tighter. “Should I put it to better use, would you like that?”
“N-no, I would hate that, ah!” You’re covering your mouth now, as he grins like the evil little shit he is, and you eye the room. “Fuck…”
“No, to answer your question, I like shutting your mouth up far more than I enjoy any of the concubines,” he’s whispering in your ear, hand stuck between your thighs, running over your slit, you’re biting on your lower lip, hating him more for being infuriatingly good at touching you. “Should I spell it out for you, that I liked it more than them? Will that stroke your ego?”
“My ego - hah - you’re the one w-with an ego, fuck…” you’re rolling your hips, when he kisses you, and you shove at him. “Who knows what’s in your mouth, where it’s been.”
“Would that infuriate you, conceited little brat?”
“Me conceited!? You should look in a - ah - looking glass…” You bite his lip hard, he moans at it, fingers making your panties a soppy mess, just sticking to you hopelessly.
“Would you be mad if I ate their cunts then kissed you?” He taunts, raising a brow, you tug at his hair hard, he only gets harder, pressing against your clit and running circles while you try to hold any composure.
“It would disgust me, not anger me,” you bury your face against his neck when he makes contact with your bare cunt, peeling the layer to the side and chuckling. “You disgust me all together.”
“I can tell, you’re so disgusted you’re wetting my fucking robes, huh?”
“Am not,” you bite the fuck out of his neck, the pain causes him to hiss, leaking precum and ready to bury his cock inside you. “If you want to make a baby then get it done, stop the teasing.”
“Is that code for you wanting my cock inside you?” You huff, shaking your head then, even as you spread your thighs, wishing the guilt would be enough not to want this man. “Say it, and I’ll give you it.”
“I’ll not say a fucking thing of the sort, should beat you at chess again and make you cry hmm?”
“God you’re evil,” he kisses you then, it’s messy and desperate, his fingers snug inside gummy walls that grip him so good. “Evil little-”
“Call me that one more time, I’ll knock you on your ass.” He chuckles at that, white teeth flashing, your squelching cunt loud as he begins to move his fingers up and down, so intense your tummy clenches. “Satoru…”
“That’s it, that's my name. You can say it, hmm?” You shake your head again, cursing his eyes for looking at you that way, his hands for finding that spot and zoning in, your eyes roll back before you can stop yourself. “Feels good?”
“Shut up,” you’re helpless to his expert touches, to his toxic fucking manner, a mix of wanting to hit him and wanting to get on your knees again, something to make you hate yourself more. “With everyone watching!?”
“Out,” his order is quickly met, until you are alone, and he grips your hair, pulling it like he did that night when you’d choked on his cock. “Alone, better?”
“Just… there, please, ngh!” You’re deep in self loathing when he hits some spot that makes you see stars, and your mouth is open in a slutty o, he can’t stand it then, how fucking gorgeous you look for him.
“Fuck you're beautiful,” you shake your head then, the last thing you need is to like him on top of wanting him. He glares at you, blue eyes narrowing, while the squishing sounds from your cunt get louder. “What I cannot say it?”
“No, you cannot,” he picks you up then, turning you and spreading your thighs, sliding his soaked fingers right into your mouth. “Mnh!”
“You taste so fucking sweet, god look at these perfect tits,” he's tugging them out of your robes as he speaks, the way he looks at you is too much, almost tender. It can't be. “Pretty nipples begging for my mouth.”
“Just fuck me, no need for all the nonsense,” he scowls deeper, smacking your hands as they trail down his body. “I want to fuck you, okay? You’re good at this, obviously, if that's your concern - it's clear that I do.”
“Yet I cannot speak freely? That you're so beautiful it's unreal?” You shake your head again, blinking back tears, terrified of his words and what they elicit, of the hurt it’ll bring. Emperor Gojo cups your face then, tilting your chin up as he steps between your thighs. “I'll say whatever the fuck I want to, got me?”
“Lies, just lies, and for what? To confuse me?” You shove at his chest then, sniffling. He yanks you down then, turning you and pressing you by the small of your back, your fingers grip the heavy damask cloth underneath you, as he shoves your robes up your hips. “Fuck…”
“Stop acting as if you don’t enjoy it, when I say that. I see those pretty fucking eyes light up,” you shake your head, you can’t like it, you can’t. He says that to everyone, you’re so sure of it. “You’re arching, need something?”
“Wanna cum, okay? I want it, is that not enough for y-your huge ego?” He’s humming to himself, a hand sliding up your throat now.
“Tell me who it was, I told you I liked you more than them, didn’t I?”
“He was… my knight.” He chuckles, making you tense, looking back at him while he toys with your dripping wet cunt once more, heavy weight pressing against you. “What’s funny?”
“It’s just so typical, a knight falling for a pretty princess, and you are pretty, I’ll keep saying it even if you don’t believe me,” he’s seeing right through you, his long fingers sinking back inside, you don’t bother to bite back the moan. “And did you want him to take it, your innocence? Be your first, your sweet devoted knight?”
As Satoru speaks in his mocking tone, his fingers destroying you with their precision, the rage hits him further - are you wet thinking of him, a man you desire, and not Satoru himself? The doubts he’s never faced or never had come creeping with a girl he barely knows, a girl he would die to be inside - but he wants you to crave it, to beg for it, to need him.
He's choking your throat now, brows drawn low together, you gasp as you feel weightless, the combination of his fingers inside you. His hard body behind you, his fingers squeezing against your pulse points about to make you shatter.
You can't speak, not when he's moving them faster and faster, you're weak and trembling while he works his long fingers up and down, hitting spots you didn't know existed. His lips touch your ear, his breath tickling it as he squeezes harder right under your chin, fingers filthy with how they work your cunt, like he’s always known your damn body.
“Answer me, did you want your knight? Do you still want him?” You nod even in his hold, as you begin to fall apart in front of a man you can't stand, the necklace just dangling as the squelching wetness gets embarrassing. “Slutty cunt, listen to her, bet you're gonna make a fucking mess f'me, hmm?”
You can't talk, your orgasm rocks you in waves, even more intense than last night with his wicked mouth. You're screaming out hoarsely as he chokes you during it, making a mess just like he said, gushing and squirting so much cum it's obscene. He moans as he feels it, the tense muscles contracting, the arousal flowing all over him as your walls pulse and grip his digits.
“Fuck, all over the table, the floor even, hmm? That slutty, that needy f'me even though you don't want me huh” He's taunting you, even as he's leaking so much pre he's whimpering damn near.
“Fuck you, god just put it in me,” he yanks out his fingers, hand slipping off your neck now, touching the charm that now infuriates him. “Do not touch it.”
“You still want him?” You look back, breasts heaving with your short, staccato breaths now, your entire body buzzing from the pleasure he'd brought you.
“What do you care?” Your voice is weak. “You want all sorts of women.”
“But you love someone, still, don't you?” The thoughts infuriate him, that someone has your heart, he starts pulling the chain then, and your eyes go wide.
“Don't you dare!”
“You love him, but you're my wife, you'll not wear this around my fucking palace.” He yanks it then, so hard the pretty chain breaks with a small clink that echoes resoundingly, right along with your fucking heart.
“No!” You turn and he sees your eyes filled with tears, torn between feeling horrible now, and the anger that he can't even have a chance with you. When all you do is pine for another man.
“No more wearing another man's initials as my bride,” you haul back and smack the fuck out of his cheek then, he grips your wrist with one hand as the other holds your now broken necklace. “You dare smack the emperor?”
“You're not my fucking ruler, this isn't my home and it never, ever will be!” You smack him again, he doesn't retaliate like you thought he might, he stands there with two red cheeks, eyes glassy as he studies your broken heart before him.
“I could cut your hands off for that.” He gives a hollow threat through his teeth, you swipe the tears streaming across your cheeks.
“Cut them off. It's worth it to knock you down a peg. I'm not one of your concubines, I'm just a fucking contractual obligation. That's all I'll ever be to you.” You look down at the little charm glinting from the soft firelight, tugging at your robes now to right them.
“You need to forget him, will you just try here? How can we have a marriage if that's in your heart?” He's softer, apologetic, when you break out into maniacal laughter, holding your stomach. “You laugh at me, insolent fucking brat?”
Your eyes lock with his. “I sure am, you say this like you don't have four - oh, five soon - other women to put babies inside.” Your words stab him as intended. “My love who I can never even have is that much of a threat, when you're kissing women right in front of me?”
“It is not the same.”
“You're right, he loved me, they just want your cock, your power, probably your mouth. They can have all of it.” You eye the necklace once more. “I'll never forgive you if you don't give it back to me.”
“You already hate me.” His voice is full of pain, your eyes almost break him when the tears well back up in them. “What's one more reason for you to despise me?”
You turn and run away, slamming the door and leaving him alone in the dining room, he throws the necklace on the table, sinking down into the seat and covering his face. His own emotions start, as he realizes he's just pushed you further, but the jealousy he feels knowing some tiny necklace means more to you than anything is like a knife to the chest.
He will buy you a bigger one. A better one. He'll have you dripping in gems and cumming on him, until you forget whatever stupid fucking knight who you fell for. He breaks down in tears himself at the sight of you, a mix of anger and already regret, something the emperor never felt.
Regret for hurting you.
A desire to try to fix it.
And a fear you would hate him truly forever.
*****
Meanwhile you rush past many servants and others, whispering about you. When the fuck weren't they?
You're alone.
You're all alone.
Your bare neck is tinged with the color of Satoru's handprints as you eye yourself, a tear streaked mess. You quickly tug out a pen with a shaking hand, hating yourself for damn near telling that man to fuck you, the desire was undeniable but you can almost attest it to his endless experience. You almost would have let him, you would have enjoyed it too.
What would Suguru say, or think about you now? Would he love you any longer when you’re betraying him with your heart? Would he understand? And did Suguru return your love - it’s a question that makes you sick to your stomach as you pick up the parchment and dip your pen in that black ink, trying to control your breaths as you know this is foolish.
The emperor would kill you if he found them, he already is furious that you wore the necklace - which in truth was also foolish of you, but every part of you wanted to cling to your past. In his moment of vulnerability where he asked if you could just try - such a part of you wanted to try for him, but there’s a bigger part that craves protecting your heart.
To let him in your heart would be the end of you, you can already tell when he ripped that necklace so cruelly, now you touch your chest with your free hand, craving it back on, the delicate weight of it one of the few comforts you have here. For every part that knows it’s foolish, another part screams to just write to him, to just tell him a final goodbye if it could reach his eyes.
It’s the least you could do, in a dangerous court where everyone but perhaps Miwa and Ijichi despises you for just your role. And when a man you’re married to makes you question yourself, why your desires are so strong to him, making you feel like the cruelest woman to the memories you held.
My dearest Suguru
You scratch it out.
My Suguru…
Scratch it out.
Sugu,
The nickname you gave him when you were both young fits better, you smile as the memories flood back in, even as your tears fall in fat drops down your face, surely if he is the man you know, he would still care for you and understand you had no choice. He was always realistic about your time together, you were very much the dreamer in the relationship.
Relationship, that was a relationship, this is just an arrangement - an agreement between your families, there was nothing else here, you would do good to remember it next time he touched you. And of course there would be a next time, your duties didn’t disappear because you hate him, you’d eventually have to, and the fear isn’t that you’ll hate it.
It’s the fear that you’ll enjoy it.
Even now you’re clenching your legs together, tummy sore even from how his fingers stretched you out, how they moved. You shove that back in the dark recesses of your cloudy mind, taking another breath to calm yourself, putting the pen back to the paper, letters sweeping across it and forming words.
Sugu,
I fear this letter will never find you, and perhaps that is for the best, that you think me happy and living some fairy tale life as befits the station of a Princess. Maybe it would be easier for you to think that I’m living just fine, that though I’ll always miss you I found some peace and happiness with someone kind.
It wouldn’t take your pain away, but I know you care enough for me to want that, you always said so. You always warned me that what we had was fleeting, dangerous, and temporary, you talked me out of every kiss and every touch before you finally gave in to my whims. I know it was because you’re a realistic man, and I’m a bit of a dreamer, but then I’d have so many regrets.
I’d regret not knowing what it was like to feel special, to feel like the only girl in the world to you, I’d regret not having you look at me as if I hung the very stars in the sky, not feeling that emotion in your kiss. I would live forever as just one of many to my new husband, and never have known what being truly cherished was.
He does not hurt me, he is not as cruel as I heard, so please don’t fear for me, Sugu. But there’s nothing here for me, no one by my side like you were. For as long as I can remember, the day you knelt to me and I was just a little girl with a sword I could hardly hold, you have been my most trusted confidant and friend. And your friendship I fear I miss as much as stolen kisses.
My wish is for you to be happy, for you to find someone who loves you, for you to have a choice one day when you retire from the knighthood, I know you said you never would, but I can’t see you not being loving with someone. And I hope that if I cross your mind, you smile and don’t get sad with your thoughts of me.
I am forever missing you, and I want to thank you for everything you ever did, and every way you made me feel special. I told you once and you wanted me to hush, I understand it now, it was just going to hurt more for you. In that way I was selfish, I wanted every stolen moment I could get, I just wish I had more time with you before it ended.
With love always in my heart,
Yours -
You hesitate as you almost write your name.
Princess
Suguru always called you that, a pet name or affection moreso then it was your title - now you’re an empress of a nation, but you crave nothing more than to be his princess again, than to feel that way. You cannot stop yourself from quickly folding up the letter, when a rap comes at your door, you hastily stick it inside your drawer and go to it.
“Yes, who is it?” You ask hesitantly.
“Miwa, your majesty, may I come in?”
“Of course,” you open the door, wondering how much she heard after they all exited the room, but even knowing she saw you enjoying the Emperor’s touch made you embarrassed. “What is it, Miwa?”
“I came to check on you, is that too far?” She frowns as she speaks, you shake your head, opening the door.
“No, please come in.”
She helps you undo your robes and hair methodically as she speaks. “At first I was very jealous of you.”
“Of me? Why?” You ask, watching pink dance on her pale cheeks as her blue eyes watch you.
“You’re married to the Emperor, I confess I would die to be in a position like that, a concubine or a wife to him. I have always coveted being near him, I found him always so kind…”
“Ah, that’s understandable. I’d trade positions with you.”
“My lady…”
“Well, I would.” She sighs, nodding now.
“I see you don’t want to be here, I see your sadness, I feel bad that I was mean about you at first,” she takes your hand now. “Would you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Miwa, but thank you.” She exhales in relief, beginning to grab the robe you sleep in, tugging it gently over your arms. “You have been most kind to me in fact.”
“It is nothing, I’m sure the other girls will see that you’re actually quite kind.”
“I’m not sure I am kind,” you think now at how nasty you were to Satoru, to the concubines earlier. “I used to be, before I came here.”
“You’re still kind, my lady.” Your shoulders slump just a bit in relief at her words, when she begins brushing out your hair.
“Miwa, if I asked you to get a letter back home, could you?”
She pauses then, eyes locking on yours in the looking glass. “A letter?”
“It’s for…” you can’t say who it really is for, but you know your servant who used to pass those letters was as loyal as they come. “It’s for my Nan, she basically raised me, and I miss her dearly. She was like a mother to me.”
You hate lying, but she’s immediately sympathetic. “I can certainly see if I can get it out, I will go to town tomorrow and have letters from the palace I’m taking. But your land is very, very far.”
“I know, it’s a long shot, but if you could try I’d be eternally grateful.” You touch her fingers that rest on your shoulder now. “I’m all alone here.”
“You’re not, you have the emperor - I am sure he’ll come to admire you, my lady, maybe give him some time?” You smile as if you believe a word of that. “But of course I can.”
“Thank you Miwa,” you have another letter you had written to Nan later wrapped around the letter for Suguru, sealed with wax the next morning as you give it to her, and as she’s leaving, Kiyotaka is walking up with a little black velvet box in his hand. “Good morning, Ijichi.”
“Good morning my lady,” he bows, and you tilt your head curiously as you look at the box. “His Majesty asked me to bring this for you to wear tonight.”
“Ah, I see. Thank you.” You take the box from his hands with a friendly smile, exhaustion making your temples ache. To say you slept like shit was quite a fucking understatement.
You take the long box and sit it on your bed, undoing all the frilly blue ribbon carefully, when you see it. A beautiful sapphire necklace laying on a bed of light satin, your jaw clenches as you see the note attached to it. You pick it up carefully, unfolding the parchment, which has a seal of the emperor on it.
My dear bride,
Since you like necklaces so much, I decided you should wear a beautiful one, around your pretty little neck. I look forward to seeing this adorn your collarbone for our dinner tonight, as well as the dress I’m having sent up to you. It’s part of the Gojo family jewels, so you can adorn yourself with a part of your most loving husband.
Yours,
Satoru.
As you fume over his ridiculous, conceited and insane fucking gesture, Satoru is in his own chambers, toying with the little delicate necklace, the one he broke off your neck last night, staring at it with narrowed eyes, wondering just who the fuck had possession of your heart. He contemplates two things-
Fixing it, so you may not hate him.
Or melting it into a fucking fire.
Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine
Laughs at me thinking this was four parts and we're at like over 22k wc already LMAOO and they still hate each otherrr - let's go
"Can I stay the night? I-" the brunette he was 8 inches deep in just a few moments ago would say.
Toji didn't even know her name. He just let out a mocking chuckle and told her to get out as he did pushups on the floor next to the bed.
"I'll call you an uber," he would say.
She would look at him in disbelief before scoffing and storming out with disheveled hair and clothes.
This was clockwork.
His routine consisted of boxing, flirting, fucking, and then more boxing.
He wasn't going to change that for some girl.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro didn't go on dates, he didn't even look the woman in the eyes while fucking.
He has 3 strict rules for him and his hookups: No talking, no eye contact, and no kissing on the lips. (And always use condoms because the last thing Toji wanted was a child).
Toji doesn't think his rules are extreme, but others around him like to think so.
He's not a dick kinda, he just didn't like relationships. Whether that was romantic, or platonic.
They made him too vulnerable, and Toji didn't like let people get too close in fear of them taking advantage of him.
That's why he loved boxing. He didn't have to play on a team, which meant he didn't have to get along with anyone. People feared him, they kissed the floor he walked on—and he got to punch people so it was a win-win.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro was content with living life in solitude.
But his desire for peace and eternal loneliness didn't make him some kind of humble, down to earth man.
No, Toji thrived off praise. He got off on people telling him how much they loved him, how much they worshipped him.
He loved going out in public in broad daylight where everyone could see the amazing Toji Fushiguro, even though Shiu, his manager, told him not to.
He loved the way people would crowd him, asking for pictures and autographs. He loved when girls would pull down the collar of their shirts so he could sign their upper boob and later get it tattooed.
"I'm not a perv," Toji would say defensively.
"But you are..." Shiu would reply, giving him an accusatory look.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro loved attention.
So, you could imagine his surprise when he sees a cute girl at the grocery store, taking time out of his day to come up to you, willfully giving you the God-given opportunity to meet THE Toji Fushiguro, just for you to give him a look of annoyance and walk away.
Come again???
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro was pissed the fuck off.
But, since he's such a good person, he let that one slide and decided to give you a second chance.
"C'mon doll, you really gonna do me like that?" He purrs.
"Do you like what, exactly?" You sigh, not even looking at him, instead continuing to inspect which peaches to buy, afraid they would instantly go bad the moment you walk out the store.
"Playing hard to get?" He takes the peach out of your hand and brings it up to his lips, taking a large bite—making it wayyy more sexual than it needed to be—letting the juice drip down his wrist before bringing his head down and licking it all up.
"Gross, you know how many people touched that?" You say with a look of disgust.
He decided to ignore your comment because 1.) You are progressively bruising his ego with every breath you take, and 2.) He just ate an unwashed peach from the grocery store that may or may not have an undiscovered bacteria on it which may or may not kill him.
"Look, you dont need to act all uninterested to 'impress me'. I'll sign your tits and leave."
Now you were the one pissed off because who does he think he is?
This hot, muscly, meat sack walks in here like he owns the place, tries to flirt with you like some creep, and then has the audacity to offer to sign your tits?
What do you do?
You slap him.
"Who do you even think you are?" You snapped.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro doesn't hit women. His mother always taught him that no matter how angry he got, no matter how much someone pushed him, to never lay his hands on a girl. Because that's the gentlemanly thing to do.
Sure, his mom taught him dozens of other 'gentlemanly' acts. Most of which he threw out the window, stomped on, and set on fire. But that one always stuck.
Except for right now.
Right now, Toji wanted to strangle you because you just slapped him.
Do you even know who he is?
Obviously fucking not because you just asked him, and that pissed Toji off even more.
Also the fact that you just publicly humiliated him, in front of at least 20 people recording, which would then end up on the entire internet for everyone to see 'The Girl Who Slapped Toji Fushiguro, The Most Feared Boxer in All of Japan.'
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say because he's never been in such a situation.
People always shriveled up and hid out of fear when he entered a room. Toji's presence alone makes children scream and hide behind their parents.
But you didn't do that.
You slapped him.
And it kinda turned him on.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro studied your angry expression. The way your eyebrows furrowed, how your nostrils flaired with every heavy breath you took, your anger radiating off of you, making those around you—even Toji—nervous.
His cheek tingled, not because the slap hurt, it was pretty weak in his opinion, but because your hands were so soft and Toji wondered how they would feel caressing his face as he made you fall apart under him.
This feeling you gave him was foreign, and he craved for more.
He craved you.
"Are you single?" He suddenly asks.
Boxer!Toji Fushiguro flinches, preparing for another slap from you when he sees your expression go blank. Unreadable.
Getting killed by a pretty girl wouldn't be such a bad way to go out.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ⁺ . ✦
A/n: Idk what beef I have with Toji rn but hes kinda an asshole in this AU. I SWEAR THERE WILL BE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT reader is gna change Toji for the better ☺️👍🏼
you don't remember much from before your mom left.
just that one night, she dropped you off and never came back. left you with her older brother-the one who always smelled like aftershave and gunpowder and sweat, the one with rough hands and tired eyes who never smiled unless someone bled for it.
uncle toji.
he didn't talk much at first. didn't know what to do with a kid. but he fed you, bought your school books, signed your papers, showed up at parent-teacher meetings like he actually gave a fuck. and he never touched you. not at first.
but he looked. looked too long when you'd stretch in your sleep. when your chest started filling out. when you started washing your own panties but still left them drying out in the hallway like you didn't know any better.
eventually, he started inspecting you.
ain't no one else gonna make sure you're clean,
he muttered that first time, voice low as he crouched down in front of you.
you think your mom is gonna care if you're infected or sore or start bleedin' down there?
his hand was already up your skirt.
i'm just checkin', sweetheart. just makin' sure.
he always said it like that-soft. gentle. like it was a favor. like you were the one being protected. and you wanted to believe him. you were young. you didn't know better. didn't understand why your throat tightened every time his thumb brushed your inner thigh. why your stomach twisted when he'd sigh and mutter that he was
gonna have to be thorough again tonight.
he touched you like you were something fragile.
you’d been feeling off all day. tired, achy. something weird in your stomach, a tightness you couldn’t name.
probably just the heat, you mumbled when he asked, curling into the couch with a blanket.
but he didn’t let it slide. toji never did. he crouched in front of you, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek, back of his hand pressed to your forehead.
you’re warm, he said, almost to himself. gonna need to check.
you blinked up at him, confused. check what?
he didn’t answer. just scooped you up like it was nothing, like you weighed less than the gun he kept under his bed and carried you to your room. laid you out on the mattress like you were something delicate. breakable.
lay still, sweetheart, he murmured. lemme do my job, yeah?
his job. like this was some chore. like touching you inspecting you was just part of the responsibility he’d inherited along with your birth certificate.
his hands moved slow at first. tugged your shorts down your legs with a soft tsk at the dampness in the crotch.
you been sweatin’ down here, huh? he murmured, thumb brushing the thin strip of cotton between your thighs. can’t leave that sittin’ wet. you’ll get an infection.
you squirmed. but.. i’m fine, really..
he gave you a look. that one. the one that shut you up every time.
stop talkin’ back, he said gently. i’m tryna help you. don’t make this weird.
you nodded, swallowing hard. tried not to look as his hand slipped under your panties, warm and slow, fingers spreading you open with clinical precision. his thumb pressed low on your tummy, the other hand cupping between your legs.
gotta check your glands, he muttered. see if there’s any swelling.
you didn’t know what glands he meant. you didn’t ask. just bit your lip and lay still as his fingers brushed places no one else had ever touched.
and then he sighed low, husky, like he was tired and leaned down.
you smell clean, he said near your hip. sweet, even.
his thumbs hooked into the band of your panties, and with one slow pull, he dragged them down your thighs. he didn’t rush. didn’t leer. just watched eyes calm, steady like he was unwrapping something fragile.
need to check down here too, he muttered, almost apologetic, even as his thumbs came back to part your folds. sometimes fever hides in the softest places.
you blinked at him, confused. i.. what? that’s not—
shh, he said, voice low. patient. don’t get worked up. i know what i’m doing.
his thumb pressed against your clit not rubbing, not circling, just resting there. firm and warm.
feel that? he asked softly. you’re a little swollen. heat collects here first. that’s why you’ve been achy.
you bit your lip, your whole body tense. it felt wrong. too intimate. but he didn’t look cruel. he didn’t sound cruel.
just… concerned. steady. familiar.
this isn’t anything bad, he said, voice dipping into something gentler. his fingers shifted spreading you wider, exposing every slick, sensitive inch to the open air. just makin’ sure you’re not sick, baby. i’d never let anything happen to you.
you swallowed hard. but i don’t think this is how you..
his gaze flicked up, sharp but calm. you trust me, don’t you?
you hesitated. nodded.
he smiled. that soft, proud smile that always made you feel like a kid again. safe. stupid.
he said. then let me take care of you.
his thumb dipped lower, grazing your entrance. warm. slow.
and beneath all that calm his other hand, the one he’d placed so casually on your thigh was trembling slightly. you didn’t notice. not at first.
but he did.
he exhaled through his nose, shifting closer between your legs.
you’re burnin’ up, he murmured. might need to check a little deeper.
you didn’t answer. couldn’t.
his fingers were already moving again one hand holding you open, the other sliding down, tracing the slick heat at your entrance with a kind of clinical precision that made your stomach twist.
just need to see how far the fever goes, he whispered, like it was some routine exam. like the pulse of his dick under his sweats wasn’t getting harder with every second he spent between your thighs.
he eased a finger in. slow. deliberate.
your breath hitched.
shh. easy now, he soothed. it’s okay. i know it’s sensitive. you’re just a little inflamed, that’s all.
his finger curled slightly. then paused.
see? right here, he said, pressing against the tender spot inside you. fever always settles in the glands first. gets ’em swollen.
you blinked, lips parting. i… i didn’t know that.
‘course not, he said gently. you’re not supposed to. that’s why you’ve got me.
he pulled back just enough to add a second finger, stretching you open slow his palm warm against your skin, his breath catching just barely
you’re doin’ so good for me, baby. lettin’ me help you like this, he murmured, tone low and sweet, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. he was trying to stay composed, but you could feel it how tight he was wound. how hard.
so warm in here, he added, glancing up at you with something darker in his eyes now. you’d get worse if i didn’t catch this early.
he rocked his fingers once. slow. deep.
your hips jerked, and he held you down gently with one hand over your stomach.
no moving, he said, soft but firm. don’t want you hurtin’ yourself.
your chest rose and fell in shaky breaths. your skin prickled with sweat. you weren’t sure what he was doing anymore. it didn’t feel like anything you remembered from health class. but the way he spoke the steady calm, the warmth in his voice made it hard to argue. hard to think.
you’re okay, he reassured again, fingertips brushing your walls like they were made of silk. you’re safe. i’ve got you.
and then, quietly like he couldn’t help himself, like the words slipped out without thinking
such a pretty pussy, even when you’re sick.
you froze.
he didn’t.
just leaned in, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, soft and careful. reverent.
then we’ll clean you up real gentle. make you feel better.
his fingers finally slipped free, coated in your slick. he didn’t wipe them off. didn’t even glance down. just rested his hand on your thigh, thumb brushing lazy circles into your skin like it was some calming gesture.
your body was trembling now confused, flushed, warm in places you didn’t have words for.
we’re almost done, sweetheart, he said, reaching for the hem of your tank top. but if you’re runnin’ a fever, your chest’ll show it too. skin gets blotchy. sensitive.
your breath caught. you really think..
shh, he murmured again. don’t ask questions. just trust me.
and you did. because he was family. because he always knew what to do. because his voice was soft, his touch was steady, and you were tired. so tired.
he lifted the shirt slow. bunched the fabric under your arms. didn’t grope, didn’t squeeze just stared for a moment, eyes dragging over your bare chest like he was committing it to memory.
pretty, he whispered. even when you’re not feelin’ good.
his palm came to rest over one breast. heavy. warm.
does this feel sore? he asked, rubbing slow. your glands run through here too.
you shook your head. don’t think so.
we’ll see, he said, and leaned down pressing a kiss just above your nipple. not quite on it. soft. like a father kissing a scraped knee.
good girl, he praised, his voice dipped in honey. you’re bein’ real brave
he kissed again, this time lower. closer.
your chest rose, a shaky breath stuttering from your throat and when he finally pulled back, he caught your gaze, eyes soft.
you’re alright, he said. just a little under the weather.
and then like it was the most natural thing in the world he leaned in and kissed your lips.
just a peck.
barely there.
but it wasn’t nothing.
you blinked, startled. what..
he hushed you with another. another soft brush of his mouth against yours. again. and again.
don’t pout, he said gently, like he was soothing a child. just a little kiss. you’re my girl, aren’t you?
your brows knit, but your body stayed still beneath him. his hand was still over your breast. his thigh warm against your hip. and his breath… it smelled like mint and something darker. something heavy.
uncle toji, you whispered.
his eyes flicked up, smile too calm. too knowing.
mm? he hummed, thumb stroking your nipple now, slow and coaxing. what is it, baby?
you didn’t answer. couldn’t.
his hand moved in slow circles, cupping the softness of your chest like he was weighing something delicate his thumb brushing over your nipple until it started to harden, traitorous and warm under his touch.
you’re sensitive, he murmured, almost to himself. that’s normal, with fever. blood rushes to the surface. makes your skin real reactive.
he leaned in again, and this time the kiss landed just below your bottom lip. soft. slow. his nose brushed yours.
your body’s just confused, he whispered. doesn’t know if it needs rest or comfort. you’re lucky i know how to give you both.
another kiss. to your jaw. then your chin. your lip again.
see? he murmured. nothing to worry about.
his hand dipped lower again, sliding across your stomach, fingers tracing your hip, then in between your legs just resting there now, warm and possessive, like he was entitled to the weight of you.
and his other hand, still cupping your breast, gave a gentle squeeze. not rough. not fast. just… deliberate.
you made a tiny sound in your throat.
he pulled back just a little, looked down at you. his face was calm. too calm.
does that feel good, sweetheart?
you blinked up at him, startled. i… i don’t know..
his expression softened like you’d said something innocent.
s’okay, he whispered. you don’t gotta know yet. you’re still young. that’s why i’m here.
his hand between your legs shifted palm cupping you, heat pulsing into your skin. he wasn’t moving fast. he wasn’t even rubbing. just holding. like he was claiming the right to touch you and didn’t need permission.
it’s just comfort, he said again, fingers stroking low and lazy. just me takin’ care of my sick girl. you need this, don’t you?
and then he kissed you again.
deeper, this time.
still slow. still soft. but his tongue slipped out, brushing your bottom lip like it was an accident.
you didn’t stop him.
he smiled into the kiss, the corner of his mouth curling like he’d won something.
his fingers started to move again slow circles over your pussy now, his palm firm against your heat. and when he leaned down again to kiss you, he moaned quietly, barely there, like he couldn’t help it.
like you didn’t even notice.
but he did.
and it made him throb harder.
he let out a slow breath, palm still heavy on your inner thigh. you could feel the heat from him, his rough fingers brushing lightly over your folds, spreading slick down to your entrance like he was testing you.
you’re burnin’ up, baby, he murmured, voice soft but low. gonna need to check your chest too. fever can spread, y’know.
before you could answer, his hands were already moving tugging your shirt up over your stomach, bunching the fabric just beneath your ribs. you weren’t wearing a bra. you never did at home.
he paused.
looked.
and fuck, the way his eyes darkened made your stomach flip.
they’re gettin’ bigger, he muttered, like it wasn’t completely wrong for him to notice. his thumbs brushed over your nipples once, then again, firmer when they peaked under his touch. sensitive?
you nodded, lips parted, breath hitching.
he hummed. that’s normal. hormones. but i gotta make sure they’re not sore from the fever.
he cupped one breast in his palm, warm and rough, and squeezed just enough to make you twitch.
jesus, he breathed, almost to himself. so soft.
you tried to cover your face, but he caught your wrist and pinned it down beside you.
none of that, he said. don’t hide from me. not when i’m takin’ care of you.
his fingers flicked your nipple, rolled it between calloused pads until you were arching up into his hand without even meaning to. your thighs clenched. your breath came out shaky.
his fingers slipped out of you with a wet sound, sticky strings of slick still connecting them to your cunt. he watched it stretch wet and glistening in the low light before rubbing it between his fingers and smearing it over your hip, slow and deliberate.
you’re way too hot, he muttered, half to himself. not just down there either.
you blinked, dazed. what…?
i mean fever travels, baby, he said, already tugging your shirt up higher, exposing the soft curve of your stomach, then your ribs, then
i need to feel if it’s spread to your chest.
your mouth parted, but no words came. and even if they had, he wouldn’t have stopped.
his hand cupped under one breast gentle, heavy and then the other, thumbs brushing over the soft, flushed peaks.
jesus, he breathed. you feel like fire all over. that ain’t normal.
you whimpered when he pinched one nipple lightly between his fingers, rubbing the soft bud until it peaked tight and pretty.
glands here can get tender too, he said, like it was a medical fact. especially in girls your age.
he rolled the other one between rough fingers, watching the way your breath hitched, the way your back arched just a little into his palm.
you ever feel sore here before? he asked, tone dark and knowing.
you shook your head, but your body was already betraying you thighs squeezing, hips twitching when his thumb flicked your nipple again.
hm. just sensitive, then. he leaned closer, breath hot against your ear. nothing wrong with that. means you’re growin’ up.
he paused eyes dragging over your body, his hand still gripping your tit like it belonged to him.
she hated that, he muttered. my wife. used to glare when you walked in the room. said it was ‘weird’ how close we were. said i looked at you too much.
he laughed, bitter and low.
but what was i supposed to do? ignore you? pretend you weren’t gettin’ prettier every damn day?
you looked up at him, blinking slowly, lips trembling.
she ain’t here now, is she? he whispered. just you and me. like it shoulda been from the start.
his fingers were back between your legs again slow, patient, filthy.
uncle’s gonna take care of you, baby. even if no one else ever will.
he moaned into your mouth again barely audible, more breath than sound but it made your stomach twist. not with fear, not exactly. just… confusion. something unnameable.
and then he kissed you harder.
not rough, but deeper. fuller. his tongue slipped past your lips like it had every right to be there, coaxing your mouth open with soft strokes and a hand that held your jaw steady, thumb brushing under your chin.
shh, just let me, he murmured, breaking the kiss for a second to breathe. you don’t have to do anything. just let me take care of you.
his other hand hadn’t stopped moving still stroking you down there, fingers tracing slick, warm circles that made your thighs tense without permission. your body didn’t know how to react. you didn’t even understand why it felt good. it just did.
he shifted, his thigh pressing tighter to your side now and you felt it.
his cock.
hard.
throbbing.
resting against your hip through the thin fabric of his sweats, thick and unmistakable.
you blinked, heart jumping.
but he didn’t move away.
he didn’t apologize.
instead, he let out a shaky breath, like he was the one overwhelmed.
don’t think about that, he whispered. just a reaction. it’s not your fault.
his fingers dipped lower, rubbing between your folds now, slow and steady. your body’s callin’ for comfort. mine’s just… answerin’.
his lips brushed your ear. you’re not dirty for needin’ touch, baby. it’s human.
you whimpered, overwhelmed, but he kissed you again soft and lingering.
then another.
and another.
short little sticky pecks like he was trying to calm you down.
his hand on your chest squeezed softly. fever’s still there. you’re flushin’. it’s alright. we’re just gonna ride it out.
and then his voice dropped. quiet. dark. almost like he forgot to censor it.
feel so fuckin’ warm down there…
you stilled.
he didn’t.
just shifted his hips, grinding slightly against your side now barely, but enough for you to feel how badly he wanted it. how hard he was trying not to move more.
his mouth brushed yours again.
toji..
shh, he hushed, gently cupping your face, pressing a kiss to your lips. i know. i know it’s weird. but it’s just me. you know me. i’d never hurt you.
another kiss. slower. longer.
we’ll stop soon, he promised. just a little more. just need to… make sure you’re okay.
his fingers pushed in again. two of them this time. slow. thick. deep.
your lips parted, a tiny sound slipping free.
and he smiled.
like that was all the permission he’d ever need.
his smile stayed, soft and warm like it always was but something behind it had shifted. you could feel it. in the weight of his gaze, the heat of his fingers still buried inside you.
he rocked them slowly, curling them just enough to hit something that made your legs twitch. your breath hitched again.
there it is, he murmured. your body’s relaxin’ now. s’okay. that’s what it’s supposed to do.
his other hand slid down, past your ribs, across your stomach then lower, until it rested on the back of your thigh, pulling your legs open a little wider.
his head dipped again, lips brushing your jaw, then trailing lower. a kiss to your throat. your collarbone. soft little pecks that felt sweet and wrong all at once.
you’re helpin’ me too, you know, he murmured. feelin’ you like this… s’calming. reminds me what i’m here for.
you blinked up at him, dazed. but… i thought you said i was sick.
he chuckled softly, hand moving between your thighs again, fingers spreading you open like you were nothing more than a patient on a table.
you are, he said. but sometimes, touch helps both ways. calms your nervous system. helps regulate mine, too. it’s called bonding.
you weren’t sure that was true.
but then he took your hand.
gently. slowly.
brought it to the hard bulge in his pants.
your eyes widened.
feel that? he asked, voice low, breath warm against your ear. s’nothing to be scared of. just… tension. it’s what happens when i focus too hard. body holds onto it.
he guided your fingers over him, pressing your hand firmly against the thick outline beneath the fabric. he was hot. twitching. too big.
you don’t have to do anything, he whispered. just let me hold your hand there. that’s enough. it’s comfort. we’re just helping each other.
your lips parted. you didn’t pull away
his hips shifted slightly, pressing into your palm.
his lips found yours again another slow, open kiss, his tongue sliding against yours like it was second nature now. his fingers didn’t stop moving inside you, pumping gentle, steady strokes that made your thighs tremble.
he broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips
you’re so good for me. always knew you would be.
his fingers finally slid out of you, soaked and warm. he rubbed your thigh, your hip, soothing like you were still trembling from a fever not from what he’d done. and then he shifted lower, dragging his mouth across your stomach in slow, damp kisses.
we’re gonna cool you down, he murmured, lips brushing the crease of your thigh. gonna help the swelling. can’t let it get worse.
he knelt between your legs like it was some sacred ritual his hands spreading you again, thumbs parting you open so gently it made your skin burn. and then he leaned in.
and kissed you.
right there.
your whole body jerked.
but he didn’t stop.
his tongue slid through your folds, slow and warm, almost lazy. not rushed. not hungry. devoted.
like it was medicine.
fever’s high, he whispered, breathing against your pussy. you’re pulsin’ down here, baby. poor thing.
he kissed you again, right on your clit this time soft, suckling pressure that made your back arch. his hands gripped your thighs, grounding you, holding you open like this was necessary. like this was love.
toji..
shh, he murmured, licking deeper. i know it’s a lot. but you need this.
his tongue pressed into your entrance, flicking gently, then licking a long stripe up to your clit again.
see? he said, voice husky now, lips wet. your body’s respondin’. that means it’s workin’. i’m helpin’ you.
he kissed you again, over and over, mouth worshiping you like it was a treatment. like it was holy. and in between those wet, slow licks, he kept talking kept guiding.
you’re still young to know, but real men… real cocks… his breath hitched as he ground against the mattress under him, hips twitching. they get like this when they love somethin’ soft. warm. pretty.
he looked up at you from between your legs, chin slick.
you ever seen one, sweetheart? a real cock?
you blinked, dazed. no…
he smiled. slow. dangerous.
then maybe it’s time i taught you.
he kissed her again softer this time. slower.
his tongue circled her clit, warm and steady, and then he dipped lower, dragging it down until his lips found her folds, kissing along the slick seam before gently sucking one side between his lips.
he moaned softly. content.
his teeth grazed your labia lip just enough to make you flinch, but he soothed it instantly with his tongue.
s’just me, he breathed, lips still brushing your pussy. just makin’ sure everything’s healthy. no pain, right?
you whimpered, thighs shaking. n..no…
he smiled, nuzzling lower, tongue lapping slow and deliberate.
good girl. your little pussy’s learnin’ how to take care of real men.
you blinked, dazed, heat flooding your chest. real men?
he nodded against you, mouth pressing more kisses this time wetter, more possessive.
mhm. real men don’t act like those boys you’ve seen on tv. they don’t fumble around. they don’t ask permission every second like they’re scared.
he sucked your clit again, slower this time his fingers gripping your thighs tighter as he rutted his hips once against the mattress, trying to control himself.
real men know how to handle a girl. make her feel safe. make her feel good.
you whimpered, trying to close your legs, but he kept you wide open, spreading you further with both hands now, his thumbs brushing your swollen folds like he was showing you off.
see how your pussy looks? he murmured, tongue sliding between your folds again. this is what a man wants to come home to. soft, warm, drippin’ for him.
he kissed your labia pussy lips again open-mouthed, wet kisses then bit down gently, sucking the skin between his lips like he was marking it.
don’t squirm, he chided softly. can’t help it, baby. you’re just so fuckin’ sweet down here.
his hand moved then reaching down between his own legs, tugging his sweats down with one rough pull.
and then you saw it.
his cock huge and thick. veiny. flushed and twitching against his stomach. heavy, drooling with precum. huge.
he watched your reaction with a lazy grin.
s’big, huh? he murmured. c’mere. it’s okay. just look.
he took your hand again guiding it toward him and wrapped your fingers around the base.
it pulsed.
you gasped.
that’s what a real man’s cock feels like, he whispered, groaning softly as your hand closed around him. hot, heavy. full of need. it’s what you do to me, baby. just by lyin’ there.
he guided your hand slowly, helping you stroke him your tiny fingers barely wrapping around him, moving up and down over the slippery length.
and all the while, his mouth went back to your pussy.
kissing.
biting.
moaning.
his voice was ragged now, deeper, cracking with arousal as he licked you like it was his only purpose.
fuck, you’re perfect. softest little cunt i ever tasted. and now your hand on my cock, fuck feels like heaven.
his cock throbbed in your hand thick and slick with heat, twitching against your palm like it had a heartbeat of its own.
toji moaned low in his throat, forehead resting against your thigh as he licked another slow stripe up your pussy. his voice was muffled, strained.
just like that, baby, he breathed. hold it steady. you’re doin’ so good for me.
you looked down, dazed, lips parted. his tongue circled your clit again, slow and wet, making your legs shake your other hand gripping the sheets while he rocked against your grip.
this is… weird, you whispered, voice cracking. i thought i was.. i still feel sick…
he chuckled, lifting his head to kiss your inner thigh. you’re not sick, baby. not like that. your body’s just… overwhelmed. fever’s just your nerves catchin’ up.
his hips pushed into your hand again, guiding it with his own. slow strokes, from the base to the leaking tip.
this helps me feel better too, you know, he murmured, lips brushing your mound. you’re takin’ care of me now. like a real good girl.
his voice dropped, lower, throatier, needier.
fuck. you feel how hard you got me? just from touchin’ you, tastin’ you…
his breathing hitched. his hips started to rock harder into your grip, cock flexing with each pass of your hand.
and still, his mouth was on you.
kissing.
sucking.
devouring.
look at me, he growled softly, lifting his head. his lips were soaked, beard damp with you. look at what you’re doin’ to me.
you did.
watched his hand wrap over yours, stroking faster now, his cock glistening and thick his veins bulging, his jaw clenched.
fuck, baby don’t stop, he groaned. i’m so close. just keep touchin’ me. just like that.
his eyes rolled back.
his whole body tensed.
and then he came.
hot, thick ropes of cum spilled across your hand, his stomach, your hip sticky and warm, painting your skin as he groaned through gritted teeth, burying his face in your thigh.
fuck…he panted, voice wrecked. you took such good care of me…
he kissed your hip. your stomach. your trembling fingers.
i’m never gonna forget this, he whispered, more to himself than to you. never…
(〃ω〃)thank you so much for reading, it really means a lot to me. this piece is actually one of my older works from my previous account that got banned, so i’m really happy to be able to bring it back here. if you’ve read it before
hi again, ily. and if it’s your first time welcome, and i hope it ruined you in the best way possible ♡
summary - Sukuna’s dad married your mom while you were in high school, and you hated each other on sight. He endlessly picked on and tortured you. So much so that he became a fucking YouTube sensation from prank videos starring you! You come back home for summer break after a bad breakup, and of course annoying ass Sukuna is there, with his stupid smirk, ready to pick on you again, only to be derailed when he sees you're going out with his old friend Toji for a date. Turns out, Sukuna has had it bad for you for a long time, and making you hate him was the only way to guarantee you stay far away, but can he keep up the act?
content/warnings - stepcest, lots of pining, kinda one-sided lol, Sukuna is an asshole to you, reader hates him. Enemies to ????- fuck ton of sexual tension, jealous ass Sukuna, he's probably stealing your panties as we speak, he is kinda yandere, gonna be explicit and filthy ngl, also Toji gonna stir shit up lol - gonna be like 4 parts
Comment to get tagged -Preview below
"Dinner in thirty. Get settled and don't kill each other."
Sukuna eyes you then, ever so slowly up and down with bright ruby eyes, while you start setting things down. "Really filled out huh?"
"I'll punch you." He grins again, you walk up and shove at him, pausing when you feel just how hard his chest is. Blushing a bit, he notices apparently, raising a brow.
"Feeling me up?"
"Gross no. Gym bro." He glares now and you smile meanly right back.
"Yeah how's that loser boyfriend of yours?" He asks so casually, walking in your room and touching all your shit like he does. You follow him and put everything back in its place as he skews every position of any item.
"We broke up," he pauses at your tone, eyeing you then. You're so pretty you make his heart pound in his chest - not like he'd ever fucking tell you. He calls you a gremlin and worse, knowing you're a whole knockout. "Yeah rub it in."
"Wasn't gonna," you pause then, as his eyes glint and catch yours. For a moment you see a rare softness in them, making you falter. "He get tired of your bitchy ass attitude?"
"Oh fuck off, you're such a dick." You roll your eyes, sinking on the white day bed, hands brushing the soft sheets that smell like your mom's favorite fabric softener. But you also smell him, Sukuna, so manly and taking over your space, he leans on your dresser, eyeing a picture of you.
"What happened?"
"Like you care," you lay back, shorts sliding up your thighs. Revealing far, far too much skin, he barely tears his eyes away. "He left me for my best friend."
"Oh shit..." he doesn't know what to say, all he's ever done is pick on you, prank you. Be a whole ass. How does he... comfort you? Without getting too close, feeling shit he can't feel?
What you didn't realize, is Sukuna has had it bad for you for years now. He knows he can never act on it, so the next best thing was to make your life a living hell. To make you hate him and stay far, far away.
It worked, you hate him.
But it's still not enough to stop the raging thoughts always inside him, of the filthy things he thinks of when he's alone. Stroking his cock to memories of you rather than porn, finding himself comparing others to the traits he loves about you. Traits you'll never know.
He can never ever tell you.
"I've got a date this week though. Old friend of ours," you lean up on your elbows, eyeing him then. He feels that familiar pang of fucking jealousy he also can't feel, remembering the ridiculous amount of men he's chased off over the years.
"What old friend?" He asks curiously, you smile a little then.
