⋆˚࿔ SYNOPSIS When your boyfriend is too chicken to break up with you, he sends his nerdy twin to do the dirty work. The leather jacket is a decent touch, but the personality is a dead giveaway. Instead of getting mad, you make him your personal tutor. As the lines between you blur, you realise you're falling for the man behind the glasses, leaving your ex to wonder exactly who is getting replaced.
⋆˚࿔ nerd!satoru x figure skating!reader
⋆˚࿔ cw: college au. idiots in love. academic stress. hurt/comfort. suggestive themes. smut. dry humping. tags will be updated.
part 1 series masterlist main masterlist
The air in the dorm room felt crowded, as if Toru’s ego had expanded to fill every square inch of the space, leaving no room for Satoru to breathe. It was a dizzying mix of scents, the metallic tang of hairspray and that strong cologne Satoru wore like armor. It was a scent that demanded you notice it.
Satoru leaned against the doorframe, his chest tightening as he watched the whirlwind of his brother’s departure. Toru shoved a pile of designer hoodies, black, white, into a suitcase with a series of Zip. Thud. Shove. Every movement was harsher than the other.
Toru reached for his ear, tugging a silver hoop through the lobe with a practiced, careless grace.
"Look, Satoru, it’s simple," Toru sighed, finally turning. For a split second, it was like looking into a distorted mirror. They had the same blue eyes, the same sharp jawline,. His gaze kept darting toward the digital clock on the desk, the red numbers bleeding into the dim light.
"You just have to put on the jacket," Toru continued, his voice taking on that persuasive tone he used when he wanted a favor. "Do the hair. Show up at the rink and tell her it’s over." He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if he were swiping away a notification on a phone. "Tell her I found a model or that I’ve moved on. I just don't have the energy for the devoted boyfriend performance right now, and my flight leaves in an hour."
Satoru felt a surge of nausea. His knuckles turned a ghostly white as he gripped the spine of his textbook, the hard edges digging into his palms. "Toru, this is cruel," he said, his voice vibrating with a rare spark of heat. "Even for you. She’s a person, not an assignment you can just delegate because you didn't do the required reading."
Toru’s eyes went flat, the way they did right before he won an argument. He stepped forward, invading Satoru’s personal space, the metaphorical distance between them feeling larger than ever despite their identical height.
"You owe me one, remember? Unless you want me to just text her 'we’re done' and block her number. At least this way, she hears it from a face she knows." Without waiting for an answer, he snatched his signature leather jacket from the bed and tossed it. The heavy, scent-soaked material hit Toru’s chest like a physical blow. "Don't mess it up, brother."
At 2:00 PM, the light filtered through the high, frosted windows in beams, hitting the white surface with a blinding glare of the ice rink.
Satoru’s eyes were screaming. The contacts Toru had forced him to wear were dry and scratchy, a constant reminder that he was currently living a lie. Without his glasses, the world was a smudge. He stumbled slightly on the concrete stairs, his boots clattering too loudly in the hollow space.
Then, the world seemed to sharpen. He saw you.
You were a blur of motion, a shadow spinning in the dead center of the rink. Your headphones were on, sealing you away in a world of rhythm that only you could hear. You moved with a terrifying, disciplined precision, launching into a double axel. For a heartbeat, you were suspended in the air, graceful, lethal before your blade cut back into the ice with a sound like a diamond scratching glass.
You carved a wide, elegant arc across the ice, surging toward the barrier. You stopped inches from the wood, the spray of ice crystals hitting the toes of his shoes like tiny diamonds. You pulled your headphones down, letting them rest around your neck.
Your gaze was a cold, sharp sweep. It made Satoru feel like a specimen under a microscope. He tried to adjust the leather jacket, tried to channel Toru’s arrogant stance, the way his brother leaned against walls as if he owned the building.
"What are you doing here, Satoru?"
The name hit him like a physical strike. His heart did a frantic, uneven dance against his ribs. He hadn't even opened his mouth. He was wearing the jacket, the jewelry, the cologne, he was a perfect physical replica of the man you were dating.
"I... urm..." he stammered, the cocky persona evaporating instantly. "How did you...?"
"Toru doesn't come here," you said, your voice indifferent but sharp as a razor blade. "He finds the cold unflattering. And he certainly doesn't look at me with guilt in his eyes." You leaned against the railing, your eyes narrowing as you took in his trembling hands. "If your brother is too much of a coward to say it himself, then consider the message delivered. Tell him we’re broken up. From this second."
You’d known Toru since freshman year. You knew every inch of his ego. And you knew, within three seconds of seeing this man walk through the door, that the soul behind those blue eyes was much, much softer.
Satoru’s shoulders slumped. The lie was dead before it even started. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking at his shoes. "I really didn't want to do this. He... he just wouldn't listen."
"Save it," you snapped, turning to skate away. "You weren't going to apologize if I hadn't known."
"No, that’s not true," he called out, his voice cracking with a rare flash of spirit. "I’m still sorry. I hate this. I didn't want to hurt you."
He watched you skate away. Toru had always called you judgemental , but Satoru saw something else, a girl who was fiercely protective of her own time and dignity.
A week later, the world felt as gray as the campus concrete. The meeting with the Dean had been short and devastating. “Academic excellence is a requirement for this scholarship,” she had said. Between the heartbreak and the grueling hours at the rink, your focus had fractured. If you didn’t fix your Physics grade, you wouldn't just lose your spot on the team, you’d lose your future.
That desperation led you to the back of the lecture hall. You waited until the room emptied, leaving only one person behind.
Satoru was methodically packing his bag, sliding his notebooks into his bag with precision. He looked like himself again. The cologne-soaked ghost of Toru was gone, replaced by the boy with the thick, black-rimmed glasses and the soft, oversized hoodie. He looked approachable.
You stepped into his line of sight, blocking the light. "If you were really serious about making it up to me," you said, your voice steadier than you actually felt, "consider this the way. I need a tutor. Specifically for Physics."
Satoru froze, a strap of his bag halfway over his shoulder. He blinked, his eyes appearing huge and startled behind his lenses. For a moment, he just stared at you, his brain seemingly catching up to the fact that you were actually speaking to him.
A soft, betraying pink crawled up his neck and settled in his cheeks. "Tutor you?" he managed to ask, his voice an octave higher than usual.
"I'm at risk of losing my scholarship," you added, leaving no room for him to argue or offer pity. "7:00 PM. The West Wing of the library. Come if you want to." You didn't wait for an "okay." You turned and walked out, feeling his stunned gaze lingering on your back like a physical warmth.
The library was a tomb of hushed whispers. You were tucked into a corner booth, hunched over a textbook, a steaming vanilla mocha sat by your elbow, but it had long since gone cold.
"That's not quite right."
The voice was soft, appearing right by your ear. You hadn't even heard him sit down. Satoru leaned over, he pointed a long, steady finger at your notes.
"Check your constants here," he murmured, his face so close you could see every speck in his blue eyes. "It’s h-bar, not h. If you don't use the reduced Planck constant, your uncertainty principle calculation is going to be off by a factor of 2pi."
You stared at the scribbled numbers, the symbols blurring together. The frustration of last week bubbled up. "I don't understand," you admitted, your voice cracking just a fraction. "None of this makes sense anymore."
And for the next hour, the world narrowed down to the scratching of lead on paper. Satoru was a natural teacher. He didn't get annoyed when you asked for clarification. He noticed the way you tapped your pen against your chin when you were stuck, a small, rhythmic tic.
The library's ventilation kicked on, blowing a draft of icy air across the table. You shivered, pulling your arms tight against your chest.
Suddenly, a weight settled over your shoulders. It was warm and heavy. You looked up to see Satoru standing there in just his graphic t-shirt, having draped his hoodie over you.
"The ventilation here is terrible," he whispered, his ears turning a vivid, brilliant red as he quickly sat back down and avoided your gaze. "And you can't focus if your core temperature is dropping. It’s basic thermodynamics. Energy diverted to maintaining heat is energy taken away from cognitive function."
You looked at the sleeve of the sweater, then at him. You didn't say thank you but you pulled the hoodie tighter, burying your nose in the collar for a fleeting second.
"Listen, I’m still so sorry about earlier," Satoru said, his pen hovering over a diagram. "Toru... he didn't tell me the truth. He described you as someone who... well, someone who wouldn't leave him alone. I was wrong to judge you based on his ego."
You felt a sharp, familiar sting in your chest. You set your mocha down, the plastic lid clicking. "I asked him questions about his day because I thought that’s what people in a relationship did. I didn't realize that caring was the same thing as an interrogation. What's wrong with wanting a boyfriend to show up to his own anniversary dinner?"
Satoru’s pen stopped mid-graph, his voice thick with disbelief.. "He missed your anniversary?"
You looked Satoru in the eye, wanting him to see the hurt Toru had caused. "I sat at that Italian restaurant for two hours on our anniversary while he was at a frat mixer three blocks away. He didn't even text. When I found him, he told me I was being demanding."
"I don't think you're high-maintenance at all. I think Toru just doesn't know how to look at the things that actually matter."
In the weeks that followed, the loud, chaotic frequency of Toru was replaced by the steady, low-humming presence of Satoru. Twice a week, he would wait for you at the rink. He’d be holding a styrofoam cup, the cardboard sleeve damp from the steam.
"Vanilla mocha," he’d say. "Extra shot. You looked like you were losing the war with gravity this morning."
You’d wrap your frozen fingers around the warmth, wondering how Toru hadn't known your favorite drink after three years, yet Satoru had memorized it in a few days.
One night, the library was closed for maintenance, so you were studying in your dorm. The room was a mess of sticky notes and open laptops.
You came out of the bathroom, drying your hands, but froze at the threshold of the room. Satoru was sitting on your bed, his phone pressed to his ear. The volume was up so high that the voice on the other end felt like a physical intrusion in your private space.
“YO! Did you see the video I sent?" Toru’s voice was unmistakable and slurred.. "I'm at this house party. Man, I met these two girls who think I'm a literal sculpture. Anyways, how’s the skater? Did she cry? Please tell me she didn't get snot on my leather jacket. That thing cost more than her skates." The laugh that came made your skin crawl.
Satoru’s head snapped up. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, he looked like he was watching a car crash in slow motion. The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale.
“Uhh... yes, Professor. Yes, I’ll send that lab report soon,” Satoru stammered, his voice trembling as he frantically fumbled for the end call button. His lie was pathetic, a flimsy shield against whatever just happened.
The silence that followed was suffocating. It was heavy and smelled of the betrayal you thought you had moved past. You didn't scream or react in any way.. You just walked over to the bed, your movements robotic.
“You’re a terrible performer, Satoru,” you said softly. “Both times now. So maybe stop trying to cover for him and just stick to physics.”
Satoru sat rigid in his spot, his phone still gripped tightly in his hand. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the walls.
You picked up your highlighter, the yellow ink staining the page as you began to work again.
The cafe was a sanctuary of amber light and the comforting smell of coffee. Between them, two vanilla mochas sat like peace offerings, the foam dusted with cinnamon. The steam rose in identical, lazy curls, swirling together in the center of the small table, connecting their separate worlds.
Satoru’s eyes flickered from the drink to her face. For the first time in a while, a soft, genuine tug pulled at the corner of his mouth, a real smile that reached his eyes, crinkling the skin behind his glasses.
“Maybe I ought to give this a try, too,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a warmer register that made the hair on her arms stand up. He took a tentative sip, the sweetness a stark contrast to the bitter black coffee he usually drank to keep himself awake. “I usually stick to the basics, function over form, but clearly, you have superior taste. It’s... actually quite good.”
Satoru traced the rim of his paper cup with his thumb, his expression shifting from guarded composure to something animated and raw as he started talking about his love for gaming.
“It’s not just about the buttons or the graphics,” he said, his voice dropping into that quiet, intense tone people use when they’re sharing a secret they’ve kept locked away. “In a strategy game, the universe is governed by logic. There are rules. If you work hard enough, if you learn the mechanics and account for the variables, you can protect everyone. You can actually win.” He looked down at the table, his fingers stilled. “When I’m deep in a build, I feel like I finally have a grip on the world. It’s a closed system. It’s... satisfactory.”
He looked up suddenly, a self-conscious flush hitting his cheeks as he realized how much he’d revealed. “I probably sound like a total nerd. It’s just a lot of sitting still and overthinking.”
She didn't laugh. Instead, she leaned forward, her hands tracing invisible patterns on the scarred wooden table as if she were marking the ice with her blades. “No, Toru. I get it. It’s about control, isn't it? The world is loud and messy, but your world has a rhythm.” She looked at him, her eyes bright with a sudden, shared understanding. “For me, it’s the exact opposite of sitting still, but the feeling? The feeling is exactly the same.”
“I was seven the first time my mum brought me to the rink,” she said, her voice softening as she drifted into the memory. “I remember stepping through the heavy doors. The air was so cold it felt like breathing in tiny glass needles. It hurt, but in a way that made me feel awake.”
She closed her eyes for a second, and Toru found himself holding his breath, watching the way the cafe light caught the bridge of her nose.
“But then you push off,” she continued, her hands moving gracefully over the table. “There’s this specific sound, a crisp hiss of steel cutting through ice. In those minutes, the gravity changes. You don't feel like you’re in this world anymore. You’re just... gliding. Freely. No one can reach you there.”
“The expectations, the noise, it all just fades into the background,” she whispered, her smile turning wistful. “When I’m mid-rotation, the world loses its edge. It becomes a blur of colors, and the only thing that’s real is the bite of the skate and the rhythm of my own lungs. It’s the only place I’m actually me, instead of the girl everyone expects me to be.”
Satoru watched her, his own drink forgotten and cooling. He’d seen her in crowded lecture halls, and he’d seen her standing beside his brother like a trophy, but he realized with a jolt of clarity that he had never actually seen her until this second.
“A blur of colors,” he repeated softly, nodding as if he were memorizing the phrase. “I think I’d like to see that sometime.
For the first time, the air felt lighter. He listened to her with an intensity that made her feel like the only person in the room, his gaze never wavering, his blue eyes finally steady.
Three weeks later, the afternoon sun cut through the campus windows. Satoru rounded the corner to meet her after her afternoon seminar, but his pace faltered.
There, leaning against the lockers, was a guy from the soccer team. He was a carbon copy of Toru’s brand of charisma, the athletic slouch, the expensive team jacket, and a smirk that suggested he owned the very air people were trying to breathe. He was blocking her path, his shadow sprawling over her like an eclipse.
Satoru’s chest tightened, a physical constriction that made it hard to swallow. He searched her face for discomfort, but she was wearing a small, polite smile.
The sensation that hit him was involuntary. It was a sharp, jagged heat that soured into a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach. Was this jealousy? The thought was terrifying. He had no claim to her. But as he watched the soccer player lean closer, invading her space, Toru felt like he was watching a rare manuscript being handled by someone who couldn't even read.
For a split second, Satoru considered retreating. He could go to the library, hide behind a stack of books, and nurse his bruised ego in the silence he was used to. He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't the guy who won the girl.
Then, she looked up.
Her eyes bypassed the athlete’s smirk entirely and locked onto his. “Satoru!” she called out. Her voice bright and unmistakably relieved.
The hollow ache in Satoru’s chest vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of light. He watched, mesmerized, as she deftly sidestepped the athlete, leaving the guy mid-sentence as she hurried toward him. The soccer player’s brow furrowed, his expression shifting from smug to genuinely baffled as he watched the girl choose the quiet guy with the glasses over him.
Satoru didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the lingering heat of jealousy, or maybe it was the way she looked at him like he was a lighthouse. When she reached him, he stepped into her space boldly and pulled her into a short, firm hug.
He could feel the coldness of the hallway air on her jacket and the faint scent of vanilla mocha that always seemed to linger around her.
“Hey,” he said, his voice steadier and deeper than he felt. “Ready to go?”
“Uhh, hi,” she chirped, a soft, beautiful flush creeping up her neck. She stepped back, looking a little dazed, before turning to lead the way toward the library.
Satoru glanced back over his shoulder. The soccer player was still standing there, jaw clenched, looking like a man who had just realized he’d lost a game he didn't even know he was playing. Satoru felt a dizzying, giddy sense of triumph as he turned back to her and matched her stride.
The kitchen of Satoru’s shared apartment with Toru was a battlefield of flour, steam, and Shoko’s cigarette smoke drifting in from the open window. Suguru Geto, ever since he found out Satoru was tutoring you, decided you all needed to have a bonding day and that a homemade meal was the only cure for stress. He was currently leaning against the fridge, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Satoru meticulously dice carrots into perfectly equal cubes.
"You're prepping dinner, Satoru, not performing surgery," Suguru teased, his voice full of mischief.
"Precision matters, Suguru." Satoru muttered, though his ears were pink.
Because the kitchen was designed for two people and currently held four, the counter space was limited. You found yourself squeezed into the corner with Satoru, your shoulder pressed firmly against his. There was only one large cutting board left, forcing you both to share the wooden surface. Every time you reached for a potato, your hand brushed against his. The contact was brief, a flicker of skin against skin, but it sent a jolt through you that had nothing to do with the heat of the stove. Satoru shifted his weight, making more room for you, his presence a steady hum at your side.
From her perch on the counter, Shoko took a long drag of her cigarette, careful to blow the smoke outside and squinted at the two of you through her tired eyes. She traded a knowing, silent look with Suguru. The kind of look that said 'Look at these two idiots.'
"So," Shoko started, her voice lazy. "Is the genius here actually teaching you anything? Or is he just reciting the laws of motion until you fall asleep?"
"He's a great teacher," you said, not looking up from your work, though you could feel the heat rising in your face. "He makes the complicated stuff feel... simple."
Satoru’s knife stopped moving. He stared intensely at a carrot, his face darkening into a deep, unmistakable crimson.
"Oh, he's definitely dedicated," Suguru chimed in, his eyes glinting with a predatory kind of amusement. "I don't think I've ever heard Satoru talk about 'maximum penetration depth' with quite so much... passion. It’s all he’s been focused on for weeks."
Satoru cleared his throat loudly, the sound a bit strangled. He knew exactly what Suguru was implying.
The heavy ceramic pot on the stove suddenly hissed, the broth bubbling up and threatening to spill over the sides. In a flash of shared instinct, both you and Satoru reached for the lid.
Your hands met squarely over the steam-slicked handle. His palm was large and warm, completely covering yours. The world seemed to stall. The sound of Suguru’s laughter and the clink of Shoko’s lighter faded into white noise. You didn't pull away and neither did he. You stood there in the steam, connected by a pot of soup and a feeling that was becoming too big to ignore.
Satoru’s gaze flickered down to your joined hands, his chest rising and falling in a ragged breath.
"I've got it," he whispered, his voice vibrating in the small space between you.
As you finally pulled back, your heart hammering against your ribs, you caught Shoko smirking into her drink. Suguru had started humming a low, annoying tune. The kitchen felt smaller than it had ten minutes ago, the air thick with a new weight that neither of you knew how to put back into the box.
The sky had turned dark by the time you finished your last lecture. The moment you and Toru stepped through the heavy doors of the department building, the clouds finally broke.
"The new cafe is five blocks away," you said, watching the water bounce off the pavement. "We'll be soaked before we hit the corner."
Satoru looked at the rain, then back at you, his expression unreadable behind the glare of his glasses. "Maybe... you could stay at my dorm," you suggested, "Just until the rain gets lighter. We can study there."
The walk to your dorm was short, but the air between you felt charged, as if the lightning outside had followed you indoors.
The dorm room was small, making his presence feel twice as large. You were sitting side-by-side at your desk, the drumming of the rain against the window providing the only soundtrack. Satoru leaned over to point out a complex line of text in the textbook and his hand brushed against yours.
Usually, he would pull away instantly. But today, he stayed. His skin was warm, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers. The room felt suddenly stiflingly hot, the tension from the kitchen with Suguru and Shoko still hanging over you.
As he began to explain a diagram, you leaned in closer, close enough to catch the scent of clean laundry. He could clearly smell your perfume and the closeness seemed to short-circuit his brain. His voice faltered, then stopped altogether. The silence that followed was heavy, vibrating with everything neither of you was saying. Slowly, Satoru set his pen down on the open book.
"Are you going to finish the explanation?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm outside.
Satoru turned his head. His blue eyes were dark, focused entirely on your mouth. "I can’t... I can't right now: he admitted, his voice rough.
He reached out, his hand trembling as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of your jaw making your breath hitch. When you finally leaned in, the kiss started off slow, a tentative exploration of lips, testing the waters to see if the other would pull away.
But when you pressed closer, the spark ignited. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier. Satoru pulled back just long enough to rip his glasses off his face, tossing them blindly onto the desk, before crashing back into you with a desperate kind of intensity.
Satoru’s hands, which were usually so steady, were shaking as they found your waist. In one sharp, decisive motion, he pulled you off your chair and onto his lap.
The air left your lungs as you straddled him, your knees hooking on either side of his chair. The sudden weight of you seemed to break whatever remained of his composure. His head was thrown back, the sharp line of his throat exposed as he let out a jagged, broken moan that you never thought you’d hear from the quiet Satoru.
His eyes were blown wide, his pupils dilated until they almost entirely swallowed his irises, leaving only a thin ring of blue. He looked shattered, almost as if his logical brain couldn't compute how the dry friction of denim on denim could ignite a reaction this good.
Satoru’s breath hitched, a jagged sound in the quiet of the room. He began to heave upward against you, his movements desperate and uncoordinated. Every time his hips met yours, the rough, heavy fabric of your jeans created a searing, electric heat that made your toes curl. You needed that pressure, you needed the grounding weight of him as the world began to blur at the edges.
You were shaking in his arms, your fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps as your forehead pressed against his. The only sounds in the room were the frantic, uneven gasps for air.
Driven by a sudden need, you gripped his shoulders tight and leaned in to crush your mouth against his again. This time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was messy, desperate and loud, filled with the small whimpers and guttural groans that neither of you could hold back anymore.
"I can't—" Satoru gasped, the words breaking off into a sharp, pained hiss as you shifted your weight against him again.
He buried his face in the sensitive crook of your neck, his hot breath ghosting over your skin before his teeth grazed you. His hands, large locked onto your hips, his knuckles white as he pulled you flush against him making your back arch, forcing a faster, more frantic pace.
“S-Satoru…” you gasped, your voice breaking as a wave of heat finally crashed over you. Your body shuddered violently, your strength failing as you slumped against his chest.
Not a second later, a low, broken groan ripped from deep in his throat. His grip on your hips tightened until it was almost bruising, pinning you to him as he finally came apart. He let his forehead fall heavily against yours, both of you trapped in a haze of adrenaline, the air between you thick with the sound of your shared, burning breaths.
notes:
divider credits: @sisterlucifergraphics
Pic from pinterest!
olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. you’re standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. he’s sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "you’re always so patient. it’s annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "i’ve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. you’re running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"we’re going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his hand—toast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we don’t have time—"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "you’re not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like that—like taking care of you is the most important thing in the world—you can’t say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when you’re being difficult. you’re arguing about something stupid—where to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay in—and your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "you’re not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "i’m listening to every word. and when you’re done, we’ll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "you’re too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "you’re worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift he’s unwrapping. you’re in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and you’re already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i don’t want to wait."
he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "i know, baby. i know. but i’m going to make you wait. because the longer i take, the better it’ll feel when i finally touch you." he undresses you slowly, his fingers working each button, each zipper, until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. he steps back, his eyes raking over you. "beautiful," he says. "now lay down."
olderbf!nanami who eats you out like it’s a meditation, like he could spend hours between your thighs and never get bored. you’re on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he’s taking his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes.
"n-nanami—please—" you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets. he looks up at you, his mouth glistening.
"patience," he says, his voice calm even as he slides two fingers inside you. "i’m going to make you cum. but i’m going to do it my way." he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, his tongue circling your clit with agonizing precision.
you’re moaning, your hips rolling, but he holds you down with one hand on your stomach. "stay still," he orders gently. "let me take care of you."
olderbf!nanami who fucks you slow and deep, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. you’re on your stomach, your face pressed into the pillow, and he’s behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe.
"nanami—h-harder!!—" you beg, trying to push back against him. he stills, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck.
"no," he says, his voice firm but kind. "you take what i give you." he starts moving again, each thrust deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob. "you feel that?" he murmurs against your ear. "that’s me. all of me. and you’re going to take every inch, just like this. until you can’t think about anything but how full you are."
olderbf!nanami who makes you ask for what you want, his voice low and commanding. you’re straddling him, his cock inside you, but he’s not moving.
he’s just watching you, his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin.
"p-please, i.... i can't—" you whimper, trying to roll your hips. he holds you still.
"use your words," he says. "tell me what you want."
"i-i want you to move," you gasp. "i want you to fuck me."
he smiles, small and satisfied. "good girl. now ask nicely."
you bite your lip, your face burning.
"please fuck me, nanami. please."
he rewards you with a slow thrust upward, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan. "that’s it," he praises. "that's my girl."
olderbf!nanami who holds you after, his arms wrapped around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. you’re lying on his chest, your body still trembling, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.
he’s stroking your hair, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "you did so well," he murmurs. "so beautiful. so perfect." you nuzzle closer, your eyes already drifting shut.
"you’re too good to me," you whisper. he kisses your forehead.
"no such thing. you deserve everything. and i’m going to give it to you for as long as you’ll let me."
olderbf!nanami who wakes you up in the morning with his mouth between your legs, because he’s not done taking care of you yet. you’re half-asleep, your body warm and heavy, when you feel his hands on your thighs, spreading you open.
"nanami—" you start, but then his tongue is on you, and you’re gasping, your hands flying to his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes dark.
"good morning," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "lay back. let me love you." and you do. because when nanami wants to be patient, you let him. every single time.
▶︎︎ Noble (starring . fire lord!zuko & cult leader!geto)
synopsis . In which the two leaders of two entirely different lifestyles have one other thing in common outside of their lordship—their addiction to you.
content . afab!reader, atla x jjk au, porn with no plot, lots of hair pulling (duh), hints of obsession and possessiveness, eventual threesome & they kinda pass you back 'n forth, brothel worker!reader, missionary, marathon sex, zuko’s a lil awkward here ‘n there, fingering, oral sex, throat fucking, slight nipple play, praise, pet names, sexual use of fire bending, creampies, dirty talk (sugu's filthy like always), full nelson, zuko steams when he’s close/when he cums, manhandling, filth (cum eating), jealous innuendos, prone bone, etc.
word count . 8.7k (dunno how tht happened) || author's note: y’all know i had to. btw this is dedicated to tht one anon who said they’re tired of seeing me write foursomes & threesomes <3 banner art by rororogi mogera!
In a world where things like jujutsu sorcery and elemental benders exist simultaneously, one can only imagine how overwhelming life must be to live.
And yet, you’ve managed to find some sort of balance in the midst of it all as a humble brothel worker.
Well, not just any humble brothel worker but—the brothel worker, as titled by the many men and women of highest ranks in society who’ve had the pleasure of indulging in you for a night or two.
You had gathered many loyal clients over the years, people who'd come in and beg 'n plead for even a few minutes with you. By the time this palate of clients reached those of higher status, your rates naturally went up, and eventually you'd only be visited by those most worthy of you.
Which, is rather impressive for a mere whore.
You're unsure what it was about you that made you so special, but if you had to thank someone for your status in the society of prostitution, that someone would be Geto Suguru, who was the first to openly pick you as his favored escort.
After he came in to your brothel unmasked and open with who he was, many people of higher society began to follow suit until this trend eventually reached royal walls.
It was by then that you were sought out by only the best of the best. And while this was supposed to be a good thing for you, considering it meant much better pay and (thankfully) less harassment, you found yourself facing a new difficulty as your two highest paying clients began to butt heads and clash with their timing...
——
On one hand, you had well known cultist leader Geto Suguru who you'd wrapped around your pretty little finger from his first night with you.
You recall said first night like it were yesterday.
Dimmed lanterns littered the brothel's corners and ceilings, leaving arrays of shadows and silhouettes to splay out across the rich velvet-draped walls whilst the scent of sex 'n sin coated the air.
You were leaning against a scrupulously carved wooden bar, the silks of your robe slanting off your right shoulder—leaving room for a teasing curve of your breasts to spill out to the varying patrons winding about. It'd been a rather busy night for you, as you'd tended to at least three clients back to back prior to finding this short moment for yourself.
Most could hardly afford an entire night with you at this time, even though you weren't considered the best of the best just yet. This brothel brought in all sorts of lost souls, a diverse set individuals who's cash and coin could bring them whatever flesh they craved when their desires ran most rampant.
Your eyes had scanned the room time and time again in search of who to approach, as it was also rather rare that you'd have a second to do the approaching—most came to you. But, this night had been wildly different.
Your gaze plucked out the regulars and you grimaced as the prospect of having to approach one of those merchants who carried leering grins and uncomfortably grabby hands dawned on you. Although you'd a busy night thus far, you were quite hungry for cash.
All you wanted was one more customer before you'd call it a successful night.
You debated on approaching some soldiers who's hands you knew to itch for softness, deeply considering how their pockets tended to run rather deep.
When such powerful fascinations of magic existed, it was only natural that all sorts of people existed as well. There were benders of four different kinds, sorcerers who had the most complex of abilities, mixes of both who existed, and lastly—regular people who carried no special, otherworldly aptitudes whatsoever.
That last category is where you fall. But, you suppose being able to bend your back just right and give people a taste of something far sweeter than any source of supernatural abilities out there was something to be moderately proud of.
It was in this very brothel that you felt most powerful, and nothing nor anyone could take that away from you.
Especially not by the time Geto entered the establishment for the first time.
Staggering in at over six feet tall, cloaked in black from head to toe with half of his face hidden behind an ornate mask, he was certainly nothing to be played with when you first saw him.
You—and everyone else in a hundred mile radius—had heard many rumors and tales of the infamous Geto Suguru. How he slaughtered his own family, was actively wanted for doing so by members of Jujutsu Society, and had some sort of cult brewing about to spread ideals of slaughter in regards to any non-sorcerers.
But, given the mask he had on, you held no idea that the man snapping his eyes your way was him.
Though, looking back on it now, it should've been obvious. Only half of his face was concealed but most should be able to recognize that sharp jawline and those seductive eyes of amethyst hue from a mile away. Not to mention the long tresses of raven black that cascaded down his back, swishing with much elegance as he paced deeper into the brothel—half of it pulled up into quite the signature bun.
"You," He'd been standing in front of you much faster than you had time to prepare yourself for, his voice laced with this smooth purr that—again—anyone should've been able to recognize.
You remember the way you straightened up almost immediately, your gaze meeting his as the tension of his visual scrutiny fell down on you. Luckily for you, you were able to collect yourself just in time to offer a short nod of your head, "Of course."
You had to force steadiness in your voice just to maintain your usual confidence. No way were you about to let some masked stranger get you all nervous.
...Even if the masked stranger in question undressed you with his eyes in a way you swear you've never experienced before.
You ended up leading him up the creaky set of stairs to your left. It was apparent in how quiet he was along the way that he hadn't been a man of many words, at least not to people he didn't know—ergo, you.
Once upstairs, he followed you down the relatively quiet hall, the only source of sound coming from the soft click of a shutting door as you eventually brought him into a private room.
His eyes didn't stay on you long, too eager to take in the intimate space around him. He'd linger his gaze over the wide bed, scoff quietly at the cheap-looking sheets tossed over it, and shift in his standing as he contemplated deeply on all the decisions that led him here.
Then his attention found you again.
Whilst he had reminded dormant, you slowly turned around to face him and wasted little time in working to untie your velvety robes. The fabrics fell to pool at your feet, and for anyone who lived a life much different to this one—the way things played out may have come off as strange. But for you, having a client who spoke very little such as this one wasn't unusual in the slightest.
Hell, it was on nights like that where you preferred it most, honestly.
"Shall I uh..." Your voice wavered a moment but you quickly made up for it via gesturing your hand out to the man. Then you pacing closer to him, "Shall I help you?" You offered simply, your movement extending out into a reach as you went for his clothing.
A hand met your wrist and his head shook, "Not yet."
You'd known the gentleman for no longer than twenty minutes and yet only three words had come your way. How strange.
Unfortunately, you weren't given much time to ponder on his aloofness since you were distracted by the way his hand left you and went for his mask. He lifted it away and you gasped almost immediately at the reveal, stumbling back a bit to move your hands over your mouth.
In one respect, you were scared shitless. The man known for bringing harm to non-sorcerers was currently standing in front of you, a non-sorcerer. And in the other respect, it was hard to be entirely fearful when he had the face of an angel.
Most men prior to this instance weren't always the easiest on the eyes, and it was quite the rarity for you to be in a situation like this.
A few lengthy strands of hair framed the upper half of his now-revealed face and fuck if he wasn't the most beautiful man you'd ever laid your eyes on.
"You look scared," Geto pointed out bluntly, his gaze inert. He watched closely at the way the center of your throat moved with the gulp you took.
Cute.
You wanted to swipe your robes back up from the floor and run for your life, but what good would that really do you?
"Well, you're known for..." Your words failed you entirely but you tried your best to vocalize your scattered thoughts. "A-And I'm not a—"
"A sorcerer? I know," He fills in for you, closing the distance you'd tried to create between the two of you. "But, I don't need you to be a sorcerer to fuck you, do I?"
It was in that moment, and with those words, that you remembered what exactly your job was. Fearing that this man would harm you despite him literally coming to this establishment to feed into whatever lust lived inside him was mildly foolish on your part.
You eventually let your head nod understandingly, your gaze sinking to the floor in slight embarrassment. Meanwhile he'd found himself amused. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you'd easily become his exception for the sorcerer exclusive world he wanted to eventually create.
Geto stepped forward and went to take your wrists into his hands again, tugging you towards him and guiding your palms to his torso. "You can undress me now," He instructed.
Your hands were shaking slightly as you did so, struggling to swallow that lingering fear all the way down. It wasn't until you'd managed his top off that he moved to grab at your jaw rather roughly, forcing your head up and your eyes on his.
You gasped again, "Lord Geto, I—"
"Suguru will suffice," He murmured before you could even finish, tipping his head to the side and leaning in to caress your lips with his own. "I am yours more than you are mine tonight, alright?"
It was obvious he was trying to soothe your nerves but it wasn't really working until his lips fell onto yours. Your eyes went wide when he kissed you, stuck in your own shock and unable to bring yourself back into the moment.
Then, by the time his tongue darted out to tap at the corners of your mouth seeking entry, you regained some of yourself and managed to part your lips for him. After which his tongue met with yours and it was as though a flip had been switched in your head.
Your body pushed forward into his without second thought and you caught him by surprise quickly enough for him to grunt into your mouth. The taste of Geto on your tongue was something you'd never forget—not by a long shot.
One of your hands flew up to the side of his face to trace his cheek as your other explored the expanse of his abs, fingertips dipping against every sharp curve. Geto's body shuddered under your suddenly initiative touch, his breath clinging to his lungs and refusing to leave him in a timely manner.
A single slip of tongues was all it took for you to feel like yourself again and that was enough to have Geto reeling. Your thumb swiped against his cheek in a fashion more tender than he'd ever experienced in his life and he was completely under your figurative spell until your other hand began to dip past his waistband.
After a few minutes of exchanging saliva and soft moans, he'd unconsciously pushed you back against the bed. You pulled away from him and moved to sink to your knees without him having to say anything—leaving him to miss the feel of your tits against his naked chest.
Geto's hand came to the top of your head carefully as you tugged at his dark slacks, letting them plunge to the floor so that his erect cock could spring free. The man swears he caught a little twinkle in your eye upon watching how his dick came slapping up against his abdomen. Perhaps you were a bit more passionate about your job than he'd realized.
His cock was unduly thick, tannish length standing tall and curved whilst it dripped excessively with precum from the plump tip. You were salivating before you'd even copped a proper feel.
Your eyes flicked upward and he peered down at you expectantly, cocking a brow as if to ask what was taking you so long. You never cared much for being rushed but something told you that his neediness would somehow make everything worth it soon enough.
Then your mouth met his tip and you licked slowly, savoring the new taste of him on your tongue. He groaned faintly before moving to thread his fingers into your hair for a better grip on your head, his hips instinctively rocking forward. Your lips stretched around his cock as you swallowed him in, drool spilling out from the sides and quick to make a mess of your face.
Geto wasn't hesitant in fucking your mouth, especially with how good you were at using it. Your tongue did these tricks against him that he'd never felt before and it had his balls aching for release within a matter of minutes.
Hell, it had him thinking maybe he should've visited a brothel sooner!
"Jus' like that," Came from his purring tongue, "Take every inch of me-, fuck—mhmm, stretch that throat out. That's perfect." He grunted, voice laced with a nasty cadence.
You'd gag slightly as he knocked against the back of your throat, but it was a feeling you'd grown quite used to over time so you've come to enjoy it more than anything. Geto didn't take much longer to use your mouth as if it were specifically shaped to accommodate the size of his fat cock.
When he felt himself growing close, he plucked you right off of him and let the slops of saliva web all in between his tip and your chin. Then he'd hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed, abandoning thoughts of his own pleasure just to come spread your legs and kneel himself between them.
It wasn't unusual for clients to eat you out per-se, but it was quite uncommon.
Surging forward with no preamble, Geto buried his face into your sappy folds, his tongue coming forward with a spongey greeting to soak in your arousal. In the midst of this, you caught the man smiling like he'd proved something to himself just from getting a taste of you. Whatever that something was is entirely unbeknownst to you but, it matters little in the long run.
"Suguru," You tested, letting his name fall from you for the first time and watching how he instantly ground his hips forward to rub his bare cock against the bedsheets.
His lips were glistening in the remnants of you as his head fwipped upwards, "Again, pretty. Say it like you mean it." Geto ordered.
You did exactly that whilst he dove right back in, his hand coming out of seemingly nowhere to add two fingers into you and stretch you open on par with the rotational laps of his tongue.
"Mmngh! Sugu-, shit.." You huffed breathlessly beneath him and the workings of his mouth.
It seemed as though the sudden nickname you spewed was enough to send him into this feral state of feasting, mouth widening against your pussy just to suck 'n kiss alllll over you like you deserved to be sucked 'n kissed on. Your fingers tangled into his hair somewhere along the way but it began to grip and tug as you felt your orgasm approaching.
The skin of your thighs caged his head as your voice grew loud enough to escape the otherwise sound-proof walls of the room.
Directly after your orgasm flooded both his tongue and his thick fingers, Geto had no plans on letting you recover from it.
That first night with him was quick in the best way imaginable.
Geto rose to position his achy cock at your entrance, letting the head smack! in between your puffy folds a couple times before he started pushing in. Your hands went out to grip at the surrounding sheets and you whined whilst he stretched you out.
He was the first client of yours to ever make you feel so immersed in the acts of sexual pleasure, but far from the last.
He waited for the walls of your cunt to adjust to his thick size before he worked a steady pace into you, soon fucking you in a way that's simply incomparable to what you were used to. Your body rocked and rocked against the bed with his every thrust, his hands moving from the sheets to your hips, then to your breasts just to squeeze your body like he felt you needed.
One moment he was groaning and grunting above you about how good you felt, and the next his hands were on the undersides of your thighs, forcing your body to bend how he wanted as his voice curved all into your ear.
"Tell me something," He husked heavily, his hair framing your body with the way it fell out all messily. "How many cocks do you actually enjoy taking, hm?"
You choked.
Sure, men had asked you questions like that before but... most weren't too concerned with the others that you'd been with.
Cunt clenching around him, "I-I... I don't know-, nngh!"
At that, Geto had lifted himself just enough to grab ahold of your face like he'd done earlier, staring your dead in the eyes whilst his hips came rocking down into you—cock fucking the air right out of your lungs. "Well, when you make faces like that... I can't help but feel like mine is the only correct answer, no?"
It was your first night with the man and yet, you knew for a fact you had him right were you wanted him. A few have gotten addicted to you in the past, sure. But their pockets never aligned with their desires.
Not like Geto's did.
He eventually emptied himself into you, and wound up leaving you with a tip large enough to prevent you from working at all if you wished it so.
Then he became a recurring customer. Actually, scratch that, Geto Suguru became the recurring customer (for a while, anyway).
If you were with someone, he'd have them quickly dismissed and pay three times whatever the person you were with had been charged plus some just to make it happen.
Not only that, but he also showed up unmasked after his first night with you. You're unsure why exactly he did that when all this did was bring about attention to you.
Words of your successfully seductive nature spread all across the lands because of him, reaching places you never could've imagined for yourself.
...Such as the Fire Nation.
Or, more specifically, the Fire Nation's palace.
——
With Geto highlighting your sexual talents, you got new clients of all sorts. Other well-renowned jujutsu sorcerers, the most talented of benders from varying nations, etc.
The madam of your brothel helped you to maintain appearances, slowly viewing you differently over time, and eventually realizing that you were becoming her most starred worker—keenly peeping the investment she'd have to put into you in order to keep this flow of high societal members coming.
Your older garments, albeit nothing wrong with them, were quickly replaced with new silks that were more intricate and softer—fitting for a woman of your stature now. Your room had been moved higher within the building, farther from the bumbling noise of the common floor, and closer to those who could afford the best discretion.
Even the way your coworkers spoke to you had shifted. Some interacted with you whilst carrying awe in their eyes, others moving with resentment.
But through all this, Geto kept coming back, continued to remain your most devoted and loyal client.
That is, until Fire Lord Zuko waltzed in one night.
You were tucked into the comforts of your room when he'd visited the brothel, deaf to the commotion occurring just beyond your door.
Whispers flooded the hallways just outside, along with shocked gasps, attemptive passing touches, and failed glances of seduction as he made his way towards your room. Then came one firm knock to your door, the sound loud enough to startle you a bit.
You abandoned whatever it was you were tending to and made haste in approaching the door. As you moved to open it, you were left star-stuck from the sight of regal fabrics alone. Before you even looked up to see who was under said fabrics, you felt your heart lurch in your chest.
Then you peeked upwards and gasped rather animatedly, the folded fan you had in your hand fluttering to the floor. "L-Lord Zuko," You stammered in shock.
It was instantaneous the way you let your head lower into a rightful bow after catching the slightest shift in his brow, to which his face had lightened up a little in surprise.
Then came the tenderness of his voice, "You... don't have to do that." Zuko breathed, moving to lightly take your hands into his own.
You lifted your chin back up shortly after, blinking all dumbfoundedly at the man, "But..." As your words trailed off, he was firm in holding both your gaze and your hands.
His skin was warm against yours, eyes gorgeous in their golden hue, and long black hair falling loose to frame some of his tall figure. It was clear that here—in this brothel with you—there was no veil of inherent royalty between you and him.
The burn scar that twisted his left eye and cheek remain bare for you to take all the way in. It was unreal to have the Fire Lord standing right in front of you like this. One could only dream of such a thing, truly.
Within the spark of a moment that dwindled between the both of you, he let himself unconsciously lean a little closer to you. Husking a soft-spoken, "I'm not the first of royal status to pay you a visit, am I?" He asked.
You cleared your throat, "No, no, of course not."
Then you let your hands depart from his and you took a step back, moving your arm out to gesture him into entering your bed chambers. Zuko seemed to be delighted by the way you regained your comfort thus far, his shoulders relaxing as he inched forward.
Just before his foot fully passed the doorway, he paused and cut his eye back over his shoulder. Everyone who he'd passed whilst making his way here had been watching that entire little interaction, but the moment Zuko looked back at them all, they'd flinched and scrammed to return to whatever mindless tasks they'd been busy with before.
With the hallway cleared from a mere glance—with the exception of one or two fire nation guards—he let out a short breath through his nose and then turned to enter your quarters, the ends of his fashionably red and gold attire fluttering behind his every step.
You shut the door behind him and pressed your forehead against it for a moment. Your heart was pounding with every lengthy second that dragged by.
Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.
Fire Lord Zuko is standing in your room.
Fire. Lord. Zuko. is standing. in your room.
How do you even-
"Miss..?" He calls out almost sweetly, unintentionally making you flinch out of your thoughts.
You gulp, swirling around to face him only to swirl yourself right into his chest.
When had he gotten so close?
Your hands fly up to steady yourself—lightly grabbing onto him—and you squeeze your eyes shut, "My apologies, my lord..." You mumble, "As you can see, your arrival has startled me greatly."
Something soft leaves his lungs as his hands carefully meet your arms, "Why's that?" Fuck, his voice was so warm.
Your eyes bat themself open before moving up to meet with his. "...Are you seriously asking me that?" You blurt out.
Zuko stares at you an awkward moment.
He obviously wasn't used to having anyone speak so casually to him, and while he somewhat expected it before coming into this, it still manages to catch him off guard.
Leading him to let out a harmless scoff, "Pardon me for my confusion, miss. I just thought you'd be used to nobles visiting you by now. I've heard the rumors, after all."
You stare right back at him before tilting your head cluelessly, "Rumors?"
Zuko’s eyes skim over every inch of your face, appreciating the lack of space between your body and his already. Then he smiles ever so slightly, "You don't even know what people speak of you, huh?"
Your head shakes.
"They say you're the best," He explains steadily, lifting a hand to whisk a single strand of hair away from your face, "That a single night with you is enough to heal a broken heart of any sorts."
"Does that imply that your heart is recently broken, my lord?" You tease.
His hand halts for a second. Then his grin deepens, "It's not. I'm uh... I'm only reiterating what I've heard of you."
Playfully rolling your eyes, "Well, those rumors of me are wildly dramatic."
His eyebrow raises as if to challenge your claims, “Are they?"
You stand your ground, "I do whatever is asked of me and I get paid, there's nothing more to it."
Zuko doesn’t even try to hide the way he doesn’t quite believe you. Something threading on smug flickers across his expression whilst his thumb maps out the side of your face, drawing itself down towards your mouth.
You get lost in his touch faster than you can even help yourself. Everything about Zuko is just warm—there’s hardly another way to put it. His voice is velvety and tender on your ears, never too much bass or aggressiveness in the words that leave him.
In fact, it’s the exact opposite.
Every syllable slides off his tongue with this crowned elegance that somehow doesn’t ever strike your eardrums as too entitled or belittling in any way. "And yet word of your reputation alone has led me to you." Zuko says, the tip of his thumb finally greeting your bottom lip.
The gloss resting there makes him mouth out the word pretty and you feel your breath hitching, as if his compliment weighed far more than any other you’d ever received.
"For reasons far beyond me,” You murmur in response as he thumbs your lips apart slowly.
Zuko’s hand gathers the rest of your chin into his hold to lift your head further up and he spreads your lips apart from one another fully as he whispers, "Your humbleness is honorable, sweetheart."
Something in your chest flips right then.
Sweetheart.
A nickname you’ve heard time ‘n time again. A nickname you should be used to hearing by now.
But when it comes from him…
The look in your eyes change as you push your mouth against the pad of his thumb, “I could show you some other honorable things, my lord.”
His brow furrows and you hear a breath escape him, having hitched somewhere in his throat. “That's what I'm here for, but I'm not sure honorable is the right… word...” Zuko trails off, quickly getting enamored in the way you move your mouth to take in his thumb.
He’s not entirely a stranger to seduction, but it didn’t take long for him to figure someone like you should be something much more than a mere brothel worker. If this was something you truly took passion in—surely becoming his concubine would be much more fitting.
And with your tongue rounding his thumb in a manner meant to imitate the way it later would his cock, Zuko knows he’ll be returning to this brothel many times before he’s even half way satisfied with indulging in you.
He soon plucks his thumb from your mouth and moves to grab ahold of your face, tipping his head opposite of yours, and then leaning in as if to kiss you.
Zuko slows himself just short of his lips colliding with yours and you nearly whine at the teasing gesture. The man lets your breaths mingle and swirl into one another, exchanging waves of intimacy prior to engaging in the real thing.
Then, just to work you right up, he smirks and utters, “You want it?” as if you weren’t already a melting mess of need in his palms. He didn't realize it then, but you could tell this whole thing was new to him in one way or another.
You nod almost stupidly though, “Please?”
Zuko’s lips slip down onto yours and both of you hum into the kiss almost immediately. He’s holding your face like you’re the most dearest thing to him and you’re reeling in the fact that you’re kissing the Fire Lord himself.
And then in a matter of minutes the both of you go from tentative kisses and gentle moans to the tugging of clothing and a fiery handling of one another.
Zuko very nearly shreds your robes to ash just to get his hands on your bare skin—his touches eager as he soon has your tits fondled perfectly within his palms while still working your mouth over with his own.
He’d kiss you until you were breathless and clinging to him for more, ignoring how your hands tried to dip down for his cock, and smoothly bringing his mouth down to your chest.
His lips cupped one of your nipples before you had time to react, sucking and tugging on the perky bud with much fervor. “Mmmgnh,” Zuko hummed against you whilst rolling his tongue around in pleasureful little circles.
The first night with him was nearly as fast as the first night with Geto had been. Nearly.
There were little differences between the two men when they were with you. Both seemed eager and happy to please you more than they did themselves.
Zuko spent an almost concerning amount of time slobbering against your tits before even thinking of pulling his dick out. And once he did free himself from the restraints of his regal clothing, you’d already been laid down on the mattress in the particular position he planned on taking you in.
You laid on your stomach—body decorated and smothered in all sorts of markings induced from Zuko’s incessant mouth—and he was soon positioning his thighs around your own with his cock swinging out just above your ass.
When Zuko was especially turned on, bits of steam would puff out from his nose. A cute fact of which you come to pick up on over time, of course.
Sometimes you’d feel said steam caress your back when he took you from behind as he was now. The balmy head of his long cock would prod at your weepy pussy lips before he’d ease himself in, and by then, he was already a mess.
You’d push your hips back against him and he’d nearly lose his balance above you, a short huff that sounds dangerously close to a whine slipping right out of his lungs.
“So beautiful…” He’d coo, noticing how you shudder under the heated touch of his fingertips as they traveled the curve in your spine. Then he’d flatten his hand somewhere in the center of it and force your arch to deepen as he humped his dick into your wetly ringing cunt.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head instantly and drool danced out the side of your mouth along with a moan of his name, “F-Fuuck, Zuko.”
He adored the sound—felt himself growing wildly enamored by it with each time it dangled off of your tongue. The rumors about you were nothing compared to feeling you.
Your walls sucked him in to the hilt without him even having to move much, clenching around his cock in rhythmic motions that had his mind going blank for moments at a time. Zuko was thankful he’d had you in prone bone, otherwise you’d see just how red ‘n pink his cheeks had colored over just from fucking you.
Even so, he couldn’t control the sounds he let out. The way he’d grunt and then thrust as if to distract you from it, loving how you continued to gasp out directly after.
Up until you’d angled your head back to look at him, a gorgeously cockdrunk look dazzling over your glossy eyes. He’d never seen something so sinfully beautiful in his life.
Zuko’s hips were snapping down into you faster than he realized, his hand moving to your chin to force your head further back the moment you tried to look away from him. The nerve you had to give him a taste of such a perfect expression just to hide it from him seconds later.
How rude.
His body craned down and his face was mere centimeters from yours as his cockhead thrashed against the inner depths of your cunt. The two of you panted and moaned in sync, his jaw slacking from how good it felt to be inside you whilst fucking you into making that addictive expression.
It wasn’t until he was getting close that you felt his balls smack smack smacking! against your skin harder, and the faint smell of something burning coming from somewhere to your left.
There’d been incidents in the past—especially with fire benders—where silk sheets had been burnt within the brothel. You were no stranger to the scent, you knew exactly what it was without having to place your eyes on it.
Even so, your head ached to turn and locate the source of the fiery smell, but Zuko wasn’t having it. His veins trailing his cock throbbed and he groaned out all loudly as he kept your head in place with a steeling grip.
Huffing, “Shit-, i-ignore it.” as he continued on, despite the smell getting stronger.
You gasped and your body was conformed entirely to his hold on you, “But-, ah! You’ll burn something, my—“
“Say my name,” The Fire Lord demanded all of a sudden, his brow pressing inward as frustration built up across his face.
“Zuko,” You whined, “The sheets will—“
Again cutting you off, he tipped your head further up and swallowed up your words by kissing you. You struggled to kiss him back properly because of how mean his hips were coming down on you, but you tried your best.
When he finally pulled his mouth from yours, you saw how blissed-out his eyes had been. “Ignore the burning, focus on my cock. I know how to-, fuck.. how to control myself. No fires will be—god, you feel so good—c-caused… I promise.”
Even as he tried to reassure you, he was actively burning a hole into your favorite sheet set. Of course, these could be easily replaced by him—but it was the principle of it all, y’know?
His cock twitched inside you in sync with the flickering flames coming from his fingertips. You began to drool and he panted above you, letting his grunts and faint whines speak for his feels of pleasure instead of his tongue. The bedding was left singed due to his flames but you didn't mind it too much.
At least, considering how he most definitely pays you more than you ever could've imagined for yourself.
He ended up cumming somewhere on your back, with his dick going flaccid just between your ass cheeks shortly after. Your head fell down into the sheets and you found yourself smiling at the fact that the Fire Lord just fucked you.
You didn't mean to brag buuut... no one else could say that happened to them!
Those flames of his died out just after he calmed down and he soon fell to your side, his eyes going up to the ceiling to relish in what he'd just done.
Zuko had been stressed for weeks, months even, but that first night in the brothel with you was more than enough to motivate him for the next upcoming days.
Which is precisely why he kept coming back. Over and over and over and over again until he was just as recurring of a customer as Geto had been.
——
This routine of yours was manageable enough for a time. A long time, in fact.
Months went by before your time spent with Geto and Zuko separately ever conflicted with one another. But, of course, it was only a matter of time before they'd cross paths.
The beloved brothel of yours was alive 'n thriving with its usual throng up until a servant had come banging on your door all urgently, calling your name out with her voice shaking as if freightened.
Her voice quakes from outside your door, "Two arrivals, miss—L-Lord Zuko and.. and Lord Geto. They're both requesting y-"
"Send them in," You call back to her before her statement could even find its end.
"Together?" She squeaked.
You finally approached the door and move to swing it open, flashing a her a gorgeously perfected smile at the frightened lady, "Why, of course."
"...But miss, they're both demanding to see you separately." She warned.
"No matter," Your hand moved to wave off her words, "If they want me as badly as they so claim, they'll come to me regardless of who else decides to do the same."
The servant bats her lashes at you a few times, by far deeming you as the craziest lady currently occupying this brothel. It's not that serving two clients at the same time was uncommon, but the fact that you wanted to take in your highest paying clients—two men of very high status—at the same time...?
You had guts. Perhaps the attention you'd been receiving lately had gone to your head? Suppose Lord Zuko set this entire place ablaze simply because he doesn't feel like sharing, what then—
"The longer you stand there staring at me, the more impatient my gentlemen grow," You remind the poor servant, snapping her out of her gaze.
She blinks repetitively before bowing sharply and then turning on her heels. Then you watch her rush down the hall to go fetch your desired men.
You disappeared back into your room shortly after and patiently waited for your door to fly back open, this time with your sought-after guests. It'd been quite some time since you'd participated in a threesome so, part of you was definitely thrilled at the prospect.
And luckily for you, Geto nor Zuko cared much—or at all, really—about who the other guest coming to see you was. They even came bursting into your room together, Zuko first and Geto following closely behind him.
It was obvious without a word that they'd had enough time on the walk towards your quarters to discuss what was to take place. You could tell by the way they came in all silent.
Before this, you'd known both men to become more talkative over time when they came to see you. Geto would preach to you about his beliefs that you definitely didn't care about and Zuko would spend his free time with you to vent about the weight of royal responsibilities resting on his shoulders.
You enjoyed these things from them, of course. But at the end of the day, you had a role to play. A job to do.
And tonight—despite the both of them entering your room together—was absolutely no different. It was here nor there what few words were exchanged between the time it took for them to get themselves undressed and for you to figure out how exactly they'd decided on sharing you tonight.
All you know is that one moment they were slowly taking off their garments as you watched patiently—awaiting some sort of direction—and the next, Zuko's mouth was on yours.
You wanted to ask them how they decided on who'd get to do what first, especially considering that they're two entirely different people but neither of them gave you a chance to do so.
Luckily enough, your question is answered somewhere after Zuko kisses you until you were a drooling mess between your thighs and Geto lapped away at said drooling mess.
The room was heavy-, nearly clouded with the mixed scent of arousal and sweat, sheets rumpled up from the rapidly escalating actions. First you were between making out with Zuko while Geto did the same with your cunt, and then you found yourself positioned between them.
It was in that same position—arched over like some slut as Geto moved himself behind you, hand gripping over your ass whilst his cock rubbed between your cheeks—that the two finally started releasing more than a moan or a grunt.
You'd argue that Geto started it off by saying, "Ah, look at you.." after gliding his cock neatly in between your sodden folds. He thrust forward once and watched how your ass came bouncing against his sharp pelvis. Then he huffed, "Such a sweet girl, always sucking me in like you missed me-, fuck. Did you miss me, gorgeous?"
Your jaw fell open to reply to him but you were crudely cut off by Zuko, who was busy nudging his cock in between your lips. When your eyes lifted up, you saw how he had a bulky arm over his face as if to his his expression from you. Even so, his other hand was busy working his shaft down the center of your tongue—as if whatever Geto was saying to you wasn't worthy of any sort of response.
You found it funny at first, but then they started to go back 'n forth.
Zuko was matching the pace Geto was quick to set in a matter of seconds, your body left to wobble back and forth between them.
"No one pleases me like you do," Zuko murmured, the sudden praise catching you by surprise. "Fuck-," his voice pitches and you caught how his eyes fluttered. Then his hips ever so carefully grind forward, his balmy tip pressing a smear of precum down your throat and leaving a slopped smooch at the back of it.
Your cheeks hollowed out then and Geto was left to feel the way your cunt suddenly soaked around his dick. His hands latched onto your hips and you shuddered in pleasure upon feeling his fingers ground into your skin as his snapped forward a little sharper.
It was like he was competing with Zuko—silently trying to figure out who could hit the best spots inside you and say the right things just to get you wetter. Unfortunately for the crowned man in front of you, Geto's sneakily slipping a hand under you to swish the pads of his fingers over your clit 'n bring you to a quick orgasm on his cock.
Boasting about it directly after as a crooked smile crafts itself into his face, "There's that sloppy mess I was lookin' for. Shit-, I love the way you feel when you cum on me like that."
"Mmgh-, mmpfh!" You're mumbling against Zuko's dick. What exactly you were trying to say is lost to both men, as they mutually assume you were simply moaning.
Zuko's attention is caught by the man behind you though. His eyes flicking over to him as his arm drops from his face and he frowns. Mumbling, "She only did that cause of me..."
"Oh yeah?" Geto looks up immediately, cocking his head left while keeping his girth dormant inside your gummy walls. He gives you some time to focus more on sucking Zuko off properly, and delightedly enjoys in the way your pussy smothers his cock in a thin shimmery layer of release. "And what exactly makes you think that, your highness?" He mocks.
The Fire Lord rolls his eyes, "Well, she's—ah, heyyy," he looks down at you, "At least give me a second to t-talk, won't you?"
You drunkenly peer up at him, his cock still bulging in between your swollen lips. A trickle of saliva drips down and falls in between the valley of his balls, leading Zuko to shiver as his hand grips onto your head tightly.
Doing his best to ignore you anyway, his attention moves to Geto again. "As I was trying to say... she likes-, hah, getting her throat fucked," He points out with an intentionally jerky thrust of his hips, leading your jaw to ache for a split second from how deep in your trachea he was reaching.
Geto pulls himself out of you, dick flitting up into the air with droplets of your arousal hanging from it in dewy little strings. He glances at the sinful display for a second and uses his hand to grab his cock and tap it against your ass a couple times.
You let out another hum or two against Zuko in reaction.
To which Geto chuckles, "Yeahhh, I don't think she came because of you at all. But, I'll let you think that."
Zuko all but pouts upon hearing that. It was almost as though his honor or something was being contested with those words. So, he releases a chuff and practically snatches his length out of your warm facial cavern. "I don't take kindly to being challenged," He claims, ignoring your mouth that's steadily pressing forward for more.
"Nobody's challenging you, Lord Zuko." Geto shot back before moving his hands up into a surrendering gesture and shutting his eyes calmly. "Alls I'm saying is that she came on my cock, not yours-," His eyes opened slowly and his arrogant expression fell, "Uh, what're you doing?"
"Proving you wrong," Zuko answered casually as if he weren't currently hauling you up into his arms and spreading you out into a particularly debauched full nelson. You feel the firmness of his muscles rubbing against all sorts of crevices and nooks of your skin, only making you soak more.
His arms had hooked under your knees, folding your body into that perfect hold—your arms pinned behind your back, and plush thighs spread out widely. Your pussy was on full display, poor folds puffy 'n wet, exposed to Geto's hungry gaze as he watched intently.
"Like..." Geto blinks once-, twice upon seeing you spread out so broadly. "Like that?"
Zuko tuts, "Obviously."
You're squirming, naturally, but neither of them pay any mind to that either. Not your first—nor last—time in this position but fuck if it hadn't been a whiiiiiile since you'd been held up in such a precarious position.
"Hah. Fine then," Geto moves to slouch back against the bed, "Fuck her good, Fire Lord. Show me how uh," He nearly forgets his wording just from watching the other man's cock nudge up into position, "...Royal seed marks its territory, yeah?"
"Tch." Oh, Zuko was so annoyed.
With the way they were acting now, you hardly understood how the hell they agreed to share you in the first place. There's no way—
Something warmer pressing against your entrance, warmer than anything you've felt before. It wasn't an uncomfortable temperature or anything but there was this certain heat to it that made you flinch deeper into Zuko's grasp on you.
Then came his voice at the shell of your ear, "Feel that?" he whispered, hands holding you steady.
You shuddered, "Y-Yeah. Why're you so-, ah!"
He was pushing up into you before you had much time to question him. Zuko didn't need questions, he just needed to be snug inside that slobbering pussy of yours, stuffing you full of himself, and soon having you cream around him far more than you did on Geto.
...And if it took making his cock feel significantly different than Geto's did inside you via slight manipulation to the heat surrounding it, then so be it! You'd never have a moment long enough to question it anyways.
Y'know, since you're much too busy getting fucked dumb on his cock shortly after its slotted inside you. You're promptly displayed in front of Geto—who couldn't stop himself from tugging at his dick to the sight even if he tried—and your body feels almost tingly as Zuko plunges in and out of you.
He so easily lifted you up 'n down his cock, your pussy struggling to keep up with the pace as it squelched and left slicks of creaming arousal alllll over him.
The position allowed Zuko to hit deeper than he ever had before—arguably even deeper than Geto had too. Filthy juices slicked his cock, drooling down to his heavy balls whilst he bounced you in his arms.
You found your orgasm more times than you can count in that position but it took Zuko a bit to get there himself since he'd put so much focus and energy into getting you to cum on him harder than you did on Geto.
And even after, by the time he's obscenely thrusting his own load into you, Geto still looks as though he's got something up his sleeve.
The cult leader had spilt into his hand already but that mattered little, as he had one more thing in mind in order to win this imaginary competition he'd set.
Zuko pulled out of you and lowered your used body down gently onto the bed right in front of Geto. A mix of your release and his seed leaked out from inside you. He moved a hand to the top of your head to pat you softly and wiped sweat from his brow before casting Geto a glance, "There. I win."
The sly man smirked, "Did you?"
"I did," Zuko confirms, shrugging. "There's nothing else you can do to—"
He is oh-so-unfortunately cut off by Geto moving forward to nestle in between your legs.
Zuko clears some shakiness out of his throat, "You... You're not about to do what I think you are... r-right?"
Geto merely winks at the man before pushing your jittery legs apart. Your back falls towards Zuko, who easily catches you, and is left to watch Geto angle downwards.
Your pussy glistened with the evidence of Zuko spilling into you, a milky white left to leak from your hole. "How pretty," was the last thing Geto murmured before he did the unimaginable and dove in.
His tongue came in flat and broad as it lapped at your folds, just nasty in the way he scooped up the mingled folds onto it.
He sucked appreciatively on your cunt but you were whimpering above him, tugging at his hair and then pushing at him because your head's all confused with pleasure and the back to back stimulation. Geto's tongue swished around your clit before he sucked on it, and you gasped.
Your hand flew somewhere before you were clutching onto both Zuko's arm and Geto's head as the man cleaned you.
Zuko transfixed on the sight for a long timed before you heard him say, "Doing something so filthy for her pleasure..." He managed a smile in between his words, "How honorable."
Geto plucked his mouth away then, just to respond. "What's with you and this honor thing, huh?"
"Just take the compliment," Zuko hummed.
"Give me a normal one and perhaps I will."
"That is a normal one."
You snort wearily, "Zuko, my dear, there is... hahhh, n-nothing normal about you and your fixation on things being honorable."
nerdjo’s glasses slip down his nose as he stares at you between his knees, mouth already running even while you’re bobbing on his cock.
“fuckkk, that’s so good—shit, wait, did you know that like… most guys only last like five minutes with head? which is, y’know, kind of embarrassing considering the male refractory period—”
his words stutter when you swallow around his sensitive tip, spit dripping down your chin. “ohhh god, okay, yeah, that’s—fuck—that’s definitely less than five minutes for me.”
your tongue presses under his tip and he whines, still running his mouth.
“ahhh—shit, baby, did you also know semen actually has, like, fructose in it? it’s literally nature’s energy drink—ohhh fuck, your tongue—wait, wait, don’t stop—” his whimpers comes out shaky, hand twitching like he wants to push your head down but can’t decide if it’s rude.
you take him deeper, throat tightening, and he slaps a shaky hand over his mouth, eyes rolling back behind his lenses. he tries to muffle a moan but it comes out anyway, high and desperate.
“o-okay, okay, uh—s-science says sucking dick releases oxytocin—hahh, f-fuck—bonding hormone, y’know? so technically, we’re like… getting closer right now.”
you hum around him in agreement and he gasps, words spilling faster. “shitshitshit, baby, you’re—fuck, your throat’s so warm, you’re making me cum—ahhh, oh god, wait, I’m serious, I’m—”
he breaks off with a choked moan, cock twitching as he shoots thick cum across your tongue, still babbling about “increased intimacy” while you swallow every drop.
free use bsf!sukuna gets annoyed when you touch yourself. fem!reader, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni drabble. mlist
──── ୨୧ ────
You didn’t know what the dream was even about, recalling only the disembodied tangle of limbs and a slick warmth blooming low and hot in your belly.
All you did know when you were finally tugged back into consciousness was that you were panting, sharp humid breaths huffed into the crook of your drool slathered arm, and that you were soaked.
“Shit…” you cursed, whisper barely audible in the silent room.
Still drunk with sleep, you shifted, shoving an arm unceremoniously between the heat of your body and the couch cushions below, teasing downward until your fingers hit their target, and your eyes rolled behind fluttering lashes.
You grinded slowly, sinking back into that delicious fuzzy heat - listening to your own stuttered breaths and the crinkle of leather beneath you. Each creak sounded deafening in the still silence of night, and your pulse jumped with the shame of what you were doing and the vague memory of where you were.
Not that it stopped you, or did anything to cool the white-hot lust swirling in your belly. No, it only made you bite your forearm pitifully, a vein attempt to muffle the desperate little noises slipping free.
“Brat.”
Now that gave you pause.
You lay frozen in the dark, blinking wildly at the shadowed bulk on the couch opposite you, trembling hand still tucked into your slick panties. Maybe you’d imagined it, the gruff, familiar voice of your best friend curling out from the darkness.
But Sukuna wasn’t stupid, it wouldn’t have taken a detective to figure out what you were doing. Not with all the frantic breathing and the half muffled moans barely caught by the damp fabric of your pillow.
“Sorry,” you swallowed a thick, dry breath before you continued, “just needed to… uh…”
The lump on the sofa across from you began to shift, and you realised as your eyes slowly adjusted that he was rising to his feet, slipping free from the sheets with a low groan and a few muted cracks.
You followed suit, pulling yourself to your elbows before a sharp and disappointed tut made you stop.
“Stay where you are,” came the short command, “don’t move.”
After a moment of pause, you acquiesced and settled back onto your belly, arms outstretched to clutch your pillow beneath your chin.
Sukuna approached without another word, a broad shadow eclipsing your vision until you felt the delicate thrum of fingers dancing along your lower back.
“Hips up.”
Your pulse raced, that familiar sticky heat licking up your neck at the sternness of his tone. When you complied, he shoved a pillow beneath your hipbones, forcing your spine into a severe arch.
“Good.”
Thick fingers hooked over your waistband, tugging your sleep shorts down with little effort. You shivered against the cool kiss of air for only a moment before you were blanketed by his body heat as he settled into place behind you. There was the barely audible shuffle of clothing in the still silence before you felt him - the grind of thick inches pressed against you, hard and raw.
“Deep breath,” he murmured, waiting to hear the shaky pull of air from your lips before he finally nudged inside.
He sunk in slowly, let you map each pulsing vein stretching your tight heat until you felt the delicate tickle of hair at his base, and your eyes rolled back.
“Oh… S’kuna…” you breathed, a whiny little exhale slurred where your cheek was pressed against the pillow.
He hit deep like this, so deep that with each breath you could feel him poking incessantly at what could have been your stomach for all you knew. It was stunning, enough to make your thighs tremble and a spineless little moan escape you.
He gave no reply, just slipped out a few dizzying inches before pressing back inside with a wet sucking slap. He set a steady pace, not rushed or particularly delicate - firm and intentional, just like everything he did.
“Don’t know why you insist on touching yourself like that,” he grunted, head craned so that you could feel the puff of his breath against your sweat-soaked nape with each accusatory syllable, “when you’ve got a perfectly good cock right here.”
As if to prove his point, his thrusts slowed - firm deep pumps pulled all the way out only to sink back inside with a force that pulled a broken little sound from your throat.
His voice was low and serious, still thick with sleep as he worked you open with the practised roll of his hips. The weight of his words sent a little tremor of need through you, and you heard him curse when you clenched around his length.
“Didn’t -hn-… want to wake you…” you panted, tongue slipping on the words as your brain gave in to the fuzzy haze of pleasure beginning to settle over you.
Each nudge earned a sticky slap, heavy balls smacking against your creamy cunt as he took you apart, fucked you into the couch in a mean prone bone.
“Don’t be stupid. It’s yours,” He grunted, hips pressed snug into a mean grind that had little blinking stars dancing in the blackness behind your eyes. “So use it, whenever you want.”
His bluntness, alongside the kiss of his cockhead against your cervix made you writhe desperately, tenfold when with the next rock of his hips you felt the slick sheen of the leather sofa graze your tender clit.
Your brain was foggy, swirling with obscene images of waltzing into his room whenever you pleased, tugging down his sweats and settling down onto his fat cock like you belonged there, using him like a toy who’s only purpose was to get you off.
“You… hn-… you mean it?” You sniffled, cheek smushed to the side just to throw a desperate glance over your shoulder.
“Fuck, of course I do,” he growled, breaths coming a little frantic now, “I’ve said it before haven’t I? My hands, my mouth, my fucking thigh if you want.”
Knuckles dug into the couch cushions either side of your head, and his lips grazed your throat, the shell of your ear, the delicate hair curling at the nape of your neck.
“So I don’t want to see you touching this needy little pussy again. No toys, no fingers, no humping the goddamn pillow, got it?”
You buried your face between your arms and nodded limply, sinking into the sheets, feeling less and less lucid with each targeted buck.
“That’s a good girl,” came the last purred words before you finally tripped over the edge.
Fratjo breaks up with you and instantly regrets it — series
The apology
The fourth letter never gets delivered because Satoru Gojo finally snaps after you had disregarded his attempt to speak to you.
The rain was heavier than when he saw you this afternoon, the kind that soaks through his sweatshirt and drips from his eyelashes.
The dorm lady is halfway through her crossword when he runs past the front desk.
“Hey—”
She was too late. He’s already taking the stairs two at a time.
By the time he reaches your floor, his chest is heaving, his hands are shaking. Not from the cold, but from fear.
Because for the first time since he broke up with you, he realizes something awful.
You might actually never forgive him.
The thought hits harder than any linebacker ever has.
So he pounds on your door.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Loud enough that doors start opening up and down the hallway. Girls peek their heads out, mouths open with shock.
“Is that Gojo?”
“No way.”
The football star doesn’t care.
He bangs again. “Please.”
His voice cracks. “Please open the door.”
Silence.
Then he hears the lock click.
The door opens painfully slow, but there you are. Swearpants… and is that his oversized hoodie? Did you miss him ?
The look on your face said otherwise. He had never seen this look directed at him before. Was it indifference? Was it annoyance?
God it hurt.
For a second neither of you speak.
Then your eyes flick down to where he’s standing. He was drenched, a puddle of water forming at his shoes. His eyes were red, he looked miserable. Pathetic even.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is flat.
Gojo swallows. “I just need five minutes.”
“No.”
The door starts closing.
His hand catches it, “please.” His voice breaks again.
You freeze.
The hallway has gotten noticeably quieter.
Everyone is watching you. He knows they are and for once he doesn’t care what people think of him.
“I know you don’t want to see me.”
“Then leave,” you said sternly.
“I can’t.” His eyes are already shining. “I tried leaving.”
Your expression falters, just barely.
“I tried giving you space.” A broken laugh escapes him. “Apparently I can’t do that either.”
The girls down the hall are openly staring now, some are getting closer to hear the conversation. Others are pulling out their phones too, recording.
You notice, your jaw tightens and that annoyed look returns.
Gojo notices too.
And maybe that’s the thing that finally breaks him, he thinks you’re going to shut the door on him again.
So he does the unimaginable, and drops straight to his knees.
The hallway erupts. Gasps, whispers, and chuckles.
“Oh my God.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Is he crying?”
And he is. Rainwater and tears mixed together. He doesn’t care how humiliated and embarrassing he looks. Nothing matters anymore.
“Gojo—”
“No.”
He grabs your wrist desperately before you can pull away.“Please.”
The word comes out shattered. “Please just hear me out.”
Your eyes widen.
He’s never looked like this. Not the cocky quarterback, the football hero.
Right now he’s just your Satoru.
“Get inside,” you whisper. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough.” He follows your eyes to the girls in your dorm hall. Judging, laughing, mouths wide open, in awe at his behaviour.
And to that, he scurries into your dorm room, tripping and falling back onto his knees. He stays there, because frankly he doesn’t have it in him to face you head on.
Silence follows, because he really didn’t expect you to give him the time of day. He hadn’t planned this far.
“I messed up.” His voice trembles.
You stare.
Gojo’s head drops; and before he can stop himself, his arms wrap around your legs. Holding on like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.
Which, honestly, might be true. He can feel his face burning; but he doesn’t let go.
You don’t shrug him off, and god does this contact he’s having with you feel comforting. It’s the first time he has touched you in two months. Tears prick his eyes again, as he nuzzles his head into your legs.
“I was wrong.” The words come muffled against sweatpants.
“I was so wrong.”
“Satoru.”
“No.” His grip tightens.
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” Another shaky breath.
“I thought if I focused on football everything would work out.” He laughs bitterly.
“Turns out I was just an idiot.”
Your chest aches despite the hate you felt for him after the break up. This isn’t the Satoru who broke your heart.
This is one who can’t even look at you. The one shaking like he’s terrified you’ll disappear again.
“I miss you.” His voice is barely audible.
“I miss talking to you.” A tear slides down his cheek.
“I miss hearing about your classes.”
“I miss getting you sugary coffee in the morning.”
“I miss annoying you in the library and I miss you trying to help me study.”
You blink.
For the first time in months, a tiny smile almost appears.
Gojo notices, an his eyes immediately fill with hope.
“I love you…I never stopped loving you. I’m so sorry, I’ve been such a dick,” he sniffles.
You close your eyes. This is a problem you thought to yourself. You know he means it. The idiot means every word. Which somehow makes it worse.
When you open your eyes again, he’s still there.
Still kneeling.
Still holding onto you.
Waiting. Like a man standing in front of a judge. Waiting for his sentence.
Finally you sigh. “If you think this” you point to him and the scene he created, “fixes anything, you’re dumber than I thought.”
He looks up at you, big glassy blue eyes, bottom lip quivering from crying.
His shoulders immediately slump. “That’s fair.”
“You hurt me.”
“I know.” His eyes lower.
The room falls silent.
Then—“If I ever forgive you…”
Gojo looks up so fast he almost gets whiplash.
“…there’s a lot of work to do.”
The hope on his face is painful. “You mean that?”
“I mean maybe, if there’s change.”
For Gojo, that feels like winning the lottery. “I’ll do it.” His answer comes instantly. “I’ll do anything.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Anything?”
He nods his head, standing up now.
“No complaints?”
“Nope. Whatever you want me to do.” Gojo stares like you’ve hung the moon.
And for the first time since the breakup, he thinks—
⡴ frat!gojo and frat sweetheart!shoko fighting over you (kinda a continuation of this , fluff but slightly suggestive) ⡴ 0.5k words
happy pride !!! shout out to all my queer people and my bi sisters especially <3
“sweetheart, come smoke with me.” shoko purrs, perched on her knees in front of you while you laze on satoru’s bed. she sits in only underwear and a cami tank top and with lazy, amber eyes boring into you. satoru sits against the headboard. she waves an unlit cigarette infront of you.
satoru answers before you can.
“hell fuckin’ no.” he snarls at her. she grimaces back, lips jutting out while she continues holding the unlit cigarette in her hand and other hand creeping next to you. she gets on her hands and knees, gazing down at you while her nipples poke out her shirt. “told you to stop smoking in my room.” he pouts right back, eyes squinting as he sees her look down at you.
“then i’ll take ‘er outside?” she suggest playfully. she slinks her pale finger down to simply brush a hair out of your eyelash yet her touch lingers.
“no.” he replies possessively. he sounds like an unsharing child denying another of their toy. he brings down his muscular arm from where it was resting on the headboard and brings it around your body. he pulls you up close to him, and more importantly, away from shoko. he now wraps both hands around your hips and makes your back lie against his chest.
shoko squints her eyes.
he grits his teeth and speaks up again.
“mine.”
oh god.
shoko rolls her eyes and starts to grip at your plush thigh. satoru sees this and scrunches his pretty boy face, puffing up his cheeks before kicking away her hand. she yanks it back and shakes it.
“you asshole.” she stares right at him. he smirks stupidly and brings down his head to kiss at your neck and jaw wetly and dramatically. he stares at her the whole time.
“you’re just mad she likes me better, shoko.” he quips, grinning all the same.
she looks like she’s about to snap out something again and grips on your thigh, harder than before. before she can you bring up your hands to gesture for them to stop.
“guys, stop argui—”
“she’s,” he gestures, pointing at shoko dramatically. “trying to steal you from me.” he wrings his head around your shoulder and turns to pout at you, trying to get you on his side.
“you’re” she brings up a finger from the hand currently on your leg and points at him. “jealous i eat her out better.”
“no you DON’T!” he yells, flustering and jutting out his lip farther in a pout. he turns to you again. “tell her she doesn’t!”
“guy’s jus—”
“she’s not a liar, satoru.” shoko brings her body down, arching her body and resting her head against your stomach. she smirks up at him.
you have to stop his arm mid air from smacking her.
“say one more thing and i’m leaving the both of you!” you yelp out. they go quiet, easing up as your words linger in the air.
“…kay.” they both say simultaneously, discouraged.
shoko kisses against your inner thigh, leaving a lipgloss stain against your leg. satoru huffs before yelling.
nerd!kuna clinging to you like the needy little bastard that he is.
fluff
sukuna’s glasses were always crooked, perpetually sliding down the bridge of his ridiculous nose because he refused to get them adjusted, choosing instead to aggressively shove them back up with his middle finger like some sort of aggressive anime antagonist who just calculated the exact trajectory of your downfall.
sukuna was, by all societal standards, an absolute menace to the public. he was the kind of guy who would look at a professor’s doctoral thesis, snort, and point out a formatting error in the bibliography just to watch the man’s soul leave his body. he had a tongue like a razor blade and an ego that could easily collapse under its own gravitational pull. people avoided him in the hallways like he was carrying a highly contagious strain of the bubonic plague.
but right now? right now, the terrifying, sharp-tongued academic tyrant was currently sitting on your bedroom floor, his massive frame folded into an impossibly small pretzel shape, looking up at you with the big, watery eyes of a golden retriever that had just been told it was banned from the couch forever.
“please,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a raspy, pathetic register that would have shocked his classmates into actual cardiac arrest. “just five more minutes. let me finish the chemistry module for you. you’re going to mess up the stoichiometry, i know you are, your brain literally short-circuits when there are more than three variables.”
you didn’t even look up from your phone, merely shifting your leg to lightly tap the tip of your fuzzy sock against his shoulder. “‘kuna. what did i say about insulting my cognitive abilities while begging for my attention?”
the reaction was instantaneous. a shudder ran through his entire spine, his shoulders dropping as if you had just physically drained the battery out of his system. it was honestly hilarious how fast the bravado evaporated. this man could argue a literal judge into a corner, yet one tiny, unimpressed glance from you turned him into a heap of useless mush.
“i wasn’t insulting you,” he scrambled to say, his hands twitching over his mechanical pencil. he looked so profoundly desperate, his hair messy where he’d been aggressively running his fingers through it all afternoon. “it’s a statistical fact. a data-driven observation. but i’ll stop. i’ll shut up. just don’t move your foot.”
heaven forbid he lose the absolute luxury of being your makeshift footrest.
people at school always whispered about how you survived being around him. they assumed he was some kind of overbearing, controlling brute who probably lectured you on astrophysics until your ears bled. little did they know, the reality was so sickeningly sweet it would give a dentist a stroke. sukuna didn’t boss you around; he lived to be bosses around by you. he was a certified, card-carrying servant to your every whim, completely paralyzed by the mere concept of your affection.
“i need a snack,” you announced casually, tossing your phone onto the mattress.
before the sentence had even fully cleared your lips, sukuna was already on his feet. he practically launched himself into the air like he’s programmed exclusively for your convenience. his chair scraped loudly against the floorboards, and his glasses flew off his face entirely, clattering onto your rug.
“i’ll get it,” he said breathlessly, completely ignoring his lack of vision as he squinted down at you. “what do you want? chips? those ridiculous yogurt with chocolate cereal that you like? i bought three packs of them yesterday because the grocery store had a sale and i calculated that your dopamine levels drop by twelve percent on thursdays.”
you stared at him, a slow, amused smile spreading across your face. “you’re staring at the wall, ‘kuna. your glasses are by your foot.”
he fumbled around blindly, his face flushing a spectacular, furious shade of crimson that extended all the way to the tips of his ears. once he shoved the frames back onto his face, he refused to meet your eyes, stubbornly looking at your pillows instead. “i knew that. i was testing the structural integrity of your wall.”
“sure you were. c’mere.”
the command was soft, barely a whisper, but it had the exact same effect as a leash being yanked. sukuna practically melted, his knees giving out as he dropped heavily onto the edge of your bed. the weight of him divoted the mattress, but he made himself as small as humanly possible, hovering just inches away from you like a moth resisting the urge to throw itself directly into a raging bonfire.
he was so ridiculously large compared to you, a towering wall of muscle and bad attitude that somehow shrank into a puddle of warm wax whenever you reached out. you wrapped your fingers around the collar of his oversized, slightly stained hoodies—he always smelled like old library books and expensive coffee—and pulled him down.
sukuna let out a pathetic, low whine in the back of his throat, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck. his nose nudged against your collarbone, his hot breath tickling your skin as he inhaled deeply, as if he were trying to memorize your exact molecular structure. his large hands hovered awkwardly in the air, trembling slightly, before he cautiously rested them on your waist, squeezing just enough to anchor himself but gentle enough that he might as well have been holding a piece of wet tissue paper.
“you’re warm,” he mumbled, his voice completely muffled by your skin. all the sarcasm, all the biting mockery he utilized as a shield against the rest of the world, was completely gone. he was just a boy who loved you so much it clearly physically pained him. “stay still. if you move, i’ll fail my coding assignment on purpose.”
“no you won’t. your academic perfectionism wouldn’t let you,” you teased, running your fingers through his soft, undercut hair.
he groaned, the sound vibrating directly against your chest. “then i’ll delete the professor’s database. don’t test me. i’m a desperate man.”
“you really are,” you laughed, tilting his chin up so you could look at him.
up close, without the glare of his laptop screen reflecting off his lenses, he looked incredibly soft. his eyelashes were thick, casting shadows over his sharp eyes that were currently wide and dilated, staring at your lips with a terrifying level of devotion. it was the kind of look that made your stomach do a backflip—a raw, unadulterated hunger that was entirely domestic. he looked at you the way an ancient astronomer might look at a newly discovered galaxy, completely awestruck and entirely out of his depth.
“can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. it was a question he asked a thousand times a day, always terrified that he was somehow overstepping, always needing that explicit confirmation that he was allowed to touch you.
“obviously, you idiot.”
sukuna might have been a disaster at small talk, but he possessed an terrifyingly precise memory, and he had memorized exactly how you liked to be kissed down to the millisecond. he tilted your head back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip, his lips moving against yours with a slow, agonizing sweetness that made your toes curl. he tasted like the sweet tea you’d shared earlier, and he kissed you like you were the only source of oxygen left on a dying planet.
he pulled back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing shallow. “i fuckin’ hate everyone else,” he whispered against your lips, a sudden, fierce rush of affection making his grip on your waist tighten. “they’re all so painfully stupid. but you... you’re perfect. it’s infuriating how much i need you to like me.”
“i do like you,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him back down. “even when you’re a snob.”
“i’m not a snob, i’m just statistically superior to the general population,” he mumbled, though there was absolutely no bite to it as he eagerly met your lips again, completely surrendered to the absolute chaos of being entirely yours.
ᝰ.ᐟ choso begging you to squeeze him with your thighs while eating you out ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
"ah—cho, please—"
the words broke apart in your throat, dissolving into a ragged, breathless moan that echoed softly in the quiet bedroom. you gripped the damp bedsheets on either side of your head, your knuckles turning white as his tongue traced a slow, agonizingly deep stroke right over your clit.
he was relentless. he had been down there for what felt like hours, his heavy, rhythmic hums vibrating right through your skin every time you cried out his name.
"f-fuck—feels so good," you gasped, your hips lifting off the mattress instinctively, chasing the friction of his mouth. "right there—please..."
choso didn't speak. he only let out a low, dark growl of approval against your wet cunt, his large hands sliding up the insides of your thighs to hold you open wider. the deliberate, heavy rhythm of his mouth was blurring your vision, driving you past your absolute limit.
every lick was perfectly calculated, heavy and soaked with intention, until a particularly sharp, blinding wave of pleasure rippled straight through your spine.
your body reacted before your mind could register it. seeking an anchor against the overwhelming sensation, your thighs clamped shut instinctively, trapping his head securely between them.
choso let out a muffled, surprised sound against your folds, the sudden restriction cutting off his breath.
panicking, you immediately opened your legs back up, your breath hitching as your face burned with embarrassment. "oh my god, baby, i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to—i wasn't thinking—"
"don't," he cut you off, his voice raspy, deeper, and rougher than you had ever heard it. he looked up, his dark eyes dilated so wide they looked almost entirely black, a faint, dark flush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones.
he gripped the insides of your knees, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessiveness that made your blood run hot. "shit—do it again."
"w-what? but i—"
"please," he begged, the word slipping out with a desperate, breathless edge that made your stomach flip. his chest was heaving. "squeeze me again. oh fuck—just like that, baby. lock your legs."
the raw hunger in his expression made it impossible to refuse. slowly, hesitantly, you brought your thighs back together, locking him in place once more, applying a firm, steady pressure against his neck.
a low, ragged groan escaped him, vibrating directly against your sensitive bud. he buried his face back into you, his tongue working with a newfound, frantic intensity that completely derailed your thought process. "harder," he mumbled against your pussy, his hands sliding up to your hips, fingers bruisingly tight as he anchored you. "squeeze harder, baby."
you complied, tightening your hold, completely overwhelmed by the blinding intensity of it. you were caught so deeply in the throes of your own approaching climax that the world narrowed down to just the pressure of your legs and the wicked, relentless motion of his mouth.
because of the sensory overload, you didn't notice the subtle, rhythmic motion beneath you at first. you didn't realize that with every tight squeeze of your thighs restricting his airflow, choso was heavily, desperately humping his clothed length straight into the mattress. he was completely losing himself in the friction, his hips rolling in a tight, frantic pattern against the sheets, riding the intoxicating sensation of being choked by you.
your climax hit like a freight train, your walls pulsing violently around his tongue as a loud cry left your lips. you squeezed him tight, your thighs locking like a vice as you rode the wave.
right as you peaked, choso let out a choked, broken sound. his whole body went rigid beneath you. his hips gave one last, hard, desperate shove into the mattress, his fingers digging so deeply into your hips it was almost painful. he trembled violently, his breath catching in a long, shuddering gasp as he buried his face entirely in your thigh, hiding himself away as he spent.
as the sparks in your vision began to fade and your breathing slowed, you gradually loosened the grip of your legs. choso slumped forward, resting his forehead against your stomach, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow pants.
it was only then, as the quiet returned to the room, that you noticed the heavy, uneven thumping of his heart against your leg, and the distinct, damp heat pressing through the fabric of his trousers right where he had been pinning himself to the bed.
you blinked down at him, your hand coming up to rest in his dark hair. "cho...?"
he didn't move for a long moment, completely spent, his shoulders still twitching slightly. when he finally looked up, his face was completely flushed, eyes heavy and hooded with a profound, dazed satisfaction. he swallowed hard, a sheepish but utterly dark look in his eyes as he realized you had figured it out. he hadn't even touched himself; he had finished purely from the friction of the bed and the suffocating pressure of your thighs.
"told you," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper as he leaned up to kiss your jaw, completely unbothered by his own ruined state. "i liked it."
In which Choso Kamo, your tattooed bf eats you out.
- smut with no plot, faceriding, tonguepiercingchoso!
banners by @/kthice & @/pixopix
Your favorite thing about your boyfriend wasn’t his sweet demeanor, it wasn’t his thoughtfulness…Okay, maybe those were your favorite things about Choso..
But the very first thing you noticed about him were his many tattoos. Two whole sleeves, one completely blacked out, and the other just inked with tattoos of various meanings. He sports a few hand tattoos, his right hand more inked than the other. Choso has large black and white back piece of a dragon in the Japanese tattoo style, and not to mention, the most noticeable one, a solid black line that travels across his nose.
Your boyfriend currently has you riding his face, one hand clamped down on your thigh, the other gripping your hip. His inky black hair was down, stopping you from the view of his pretty face as he eats you out.
Chosos entire mouth is clamped over your pussy, the warmth of his mouth making a small hum leave your lips. His nose is pressed up against the flat part of your pelvis, and his tongue a continuous pressure on your clit as he draaags you back n’ forth over his open mouth. The cool metal of his tongue piercing makes you jolt everytime it hits the right spot—which Choso loves.
“So—mm—so good baby, she always tastes so sweet.” Choso mumbles, not even bothering to lift his head to speak to you properly.
Choso is relentless, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. One hand falls from your thigh, slithering down to ease two of his inked fingers into your hole. The added pressure makes your hands find his hair immediately, gripping tight.
The pull on his scalp makes a low groan leave Chosos mouth, the vibration making you shudder.
“Fuck—Cho-“ You whine, your hips rocking to match the rhythm of the pull and push with his hand. Two fingers become three, and his tongue flicking over your clit turns into a continuous suck, which soon become too much for you.
“Fuckfuckfuck—“ You swear, hips grinding down faster as you feel yourself getting closer to your climax—in which, Choso completely stops his ministrations, causing you to whine at the loss of sensation.
In which Choso Kamo is absolutely yearning for his ex-girlfriend, and apologizes using his cock.
Banner art by: @/kthice & @/pixopix
smut w/ no plot: cowgirl/? praise, apologies
“M’ so sorry baby—sososo sorry, Fuck—“ Choso chokes, tears streaming down his face from how hard your pussy was clenching around him.
Choso came over to apologize, he brought you flowers, made you a giant tin of brownies, and was ready to sit in front of your door, groveling for fucking up so badly.
And well.. he did do that, but he’s also doing this, fucking you so hard that you could barely even reply.
You were riding him, your legs bent up so that Choso could be buried into you all the way down to the hilt of his cock. But, Choso was apologizing, remember? He didn’t want you to do any of the work. His hands were gripping your waist as he bounced you up and down his cock, his hips lifting to thrust up into you.
Choso had never fucked you this hard, he could be dominating, yes. He could be submissive, he was sweet n soft sometimes during sex, even rough during others, but he’d never fucked you this harsh.
It was almost as if he was fucking the apology into you with every word that left his lips, with each thrust.
“I’m so sorry, baby—iloveyousomuch,” he’d babble,
“Fuck i’ll never hurt your feelings ever again—“
“You’re so sweet and so pretty, and I was so stupid—baby fuck I’m sosososo sorry mm—“
You’d already forgiven him the moment he’d shown up at your door with brownies, but you were enjoying the sex too much to tell him that just yet.
You felt so good that Choso could barely stand it, one hand sliding down to rub circles onto your clit, hissing when he felt you clench around his cock.
“Fuck—“
“Cho—“
The two of you choked out Simultaneously, both of your hands clamped down around one of his wrists, using him to keep yourself from crumbling over.
Chosos dick curled to the left a teeny bit, which was enough to hit your g-spot everytime he fucked up into you. Every thrust? You were seeing stars. So when he added the stimulation of your clit to the picture—god, you were fucked.
Every rub of his finger over your nub, every clench of your pussy around his cock had the two of you getting closer to the edge.
“Fuck cho—gonnacum fuck please—“ You whined, pussy starting to clench uncontrollably.
Choso could feel himself about to cum, and tugged you down to press his lips against yours, the hand around his waist coming to wrap around your back, relying on his hips to keep the movement going. His other hand never strayed from your clit, the circling growing harsher.
“Cum with me baby, cmon—Fuck, Good girl, mm— that’s it.” Choso mewled against your lips, fucking the two of you through your orgasms.
His cum spilled from his tip in ropes, filling you even fuller—if that was possible.
When both of you finally came down from your high, you whispered against his lips.
“Forgave you the second you showed up at my door—also fuck me like that again sometime, please.”
You’ve worn your boyfriend Sukuna to the bone, so your other boyfriend Toji takes over.
warnings. fem!reader/tojikuna, threesome, multiple orgasms, piv, kissing, creampie, overstim, ovulation, switch!toji if you squint, dom!sukuna. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
The first thing Toji noticed when he stepped through the front door was the heat. A subtle humidity lacing the air like the sweet lingering remnants of perfume. There was your lotion, sweet and familiar, and the smell of fresh sweat, layered with something primal and musky - the smell of sex.
The second thing he noticed was Sukuna, splayed over the couch like he’d just run a marathon. Tank top soaked through and sweatpants riddled with little damp patches, dotted across the fabric like stray petals. Toji’s gaze dipped without bothering to hide the way he was blatantly staring at Sukuna’s chest, at the heaving pecs peeking out from his neckline, eyes tracking the little bead of sweat beginning to trail a hot path down the center.
“What’s your problem?” Came Toji’s eventual greeting as he paused by the door, tearing his eyes away just to sling his gym bag over the hook there before continuing into the room, water bottle clasped in his hand.
Sukuna glared in reply, and if Toji were anyone else he might have actually felt intimidated by the sight. But with the way the other man was panting, pink tufts of hair stuck every which way and slicked with sweat, he didn’t paint a particularly scary image. In fact the only sensation the sight triggered within Toji was a mild amusement, alongside a tiny spark of heat low and betraying in his belly.
“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”
Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.
“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.
The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.
“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.
Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.
“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”
Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.
“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”
Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.
“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”
If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.
If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.
Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.
He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.
You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.
His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.
“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.
You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.
With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.
You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.
“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”
Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.
“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.
You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much too heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.
“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”
Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.
The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.
He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.
“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.
It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.
“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.
“There she is,” Toji soothed.
“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”
“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”
“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.
Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.
Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.
“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”
“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”
“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”
The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.
You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.
“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.
You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.
“Deep… deeper…”
The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.
“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”
One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.
“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”
Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.
You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.
When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.
“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.
You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.
“Oi, what are you?-…”
You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.
Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.
Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.
You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.
“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”
His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.
“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”
Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.
“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.
Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.
“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”
You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.
“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”
“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.
“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”
You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.
Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.
“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.
The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.
You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.
“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.
Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.
“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”
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a/n: kinda ahhh drabble while I work on longer fics bc I’m stuck thinking about tojikuna, hope you enjoy anyway <3
Synopsis. Toji Fushiguro - strong, hot, and your steadfast personal knight. And his duty to the crown means that Toji should…help the princess he’s always loved with obtaining an heir, right? Right?
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!princess!reader, knight!Toji, ROYAL AU, childhood-friends-to-Iovers, arranged marriage, Naoya gets NTR-d, PlNING, oraI (fem rec.), spítting, improper uses of armor, thigh ríding, dry húmping, matíng presses, BRÉEDING, dúmbifícation, marathons, D slipping, he’s BIG, size kínk, tummy buIges, cúmflation, slight exhíbitionísm, forbidden Iove, not actually unrequited, Undressed by Sombr references, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.1k (wow)
A/N. TO HAVE THE EYES OF THE GIRL I WON’T FORGEEET-
“Q-quite a grand affair- wasn’t it, sir?”
Toji lets out a gruff, noncommittal grunt in response, seconds away from rolling his damn eyes as he listens to the newly-stationed recruit babble on and on about ‘seeing a royal wedding up close.’
Toji Fushiguro has always known that he didn’t deserve you - no one did.
No prince, nor duke, but particularly not that prissy, pompous Zenin heir you’d supposedly been betrothed to since birth. What was his name-
“Naoya!”
Ah, yes. Toji’s scarred lips curl when he watches the prince slam the staggering mahogany doors of your royal room open, stomping down the winding hallway in all his sour-faced glory. Not quite Prince Charming if you asked him.
“Ijichi-” He sends a sharp nod to the bespectacled knight, signalling him to follow the heir. As much as he hated the brat, it wouldn’t do to widow you so soon- especially not on your wedding night.
And with that, Toji goes where it’s most important - to you.
As the metallic padding of his armor clanked! with each determined step, so did the ringing thought that if anything - absolutely anything - had happened to you, he would kill that damn Zenin boy. Prince or not.
Treason or not.
He didn’t climb and elbow and fight his way through the ranks of knights to become your very own personal guard for nothing. From the very moment he’d met you, his duty was to you.
As was his heart.
Though, that last sentiment didn’t matter much - not when he was nothing but your lowly protector.
Completely out of place in the decadent, dimly-lit chamber of your bedroom; it was sprawling, and the entire Keep where knights slept would take up about only half the size of your chamber. It was obvious that this place was readied for the newly-wed couple - a faint mist of flowery fragrance clouding the air, white sheets so sheer that they looked like phantoms fluttering in the moonlight, and you.
You, seated on the center of your plush mattress, still dolled-up in your gauzy ivory wedding dress. Looking as angelic as ever- though, when have you not?
To Toji, it was routine to snap his jade eyes away from whom he never could have.
Throat slightly rusty with hoarseness as he whispers, “My princess?” Before shaking his head free of any more of those stupid notions of ‘his.’ “You alright, princess? Must I slay a haughty royal neck tonight?”
That, at the very least, seemed to get a watery chuckle out of you as he’d wickedly hoped. Then you’re finally turning-
And oh, Toji thinks he might do very well to fulfill his promise of bringing you the head of your so-called new husband.
Because right there - in the corner of your gorgeous face that he’d grown up admiring through every year, every emotion - was a singular, silvery tear track. Glittering in the rays of moon, Toji can’t stop himself from the way his body viscerally wrenches a step forward-
-before you hastily wipe away the evidence of your sorrow before he can. Fighting to keep your sweet voice even, “Oh, don’t bother, Toji. Naoya just seems to be having a…bad day?”
He narrows his eyes- you were unhurt, at the bare minimum. Though, that won’t stop him from bribing the kitchen staff into overloading that damn Naoya’s meals with a bucket of salt from now onwards.
“Tch, the worst date to have a ‘bad day’. Don’tcha think, princess?”
“You’re telling me.” Throwing your hands up in exasperation, the silky sleeves of your wedding dress ripple as you huff. And Toji takes a few guilty moments to memorize the vision, one he never thought he would see.
It’s only with how long you two had known each other that you’re not bothering with any plastic court manners as you pull your knees to your chest. Groaning in quite an unlady-like way, “And all because I simply asked him to help me take these damn laces off-”
“The bastard ran out because of that?” Toji suddenly interrupts, jaw slightly sagging as he dares to take a peek at the mass of ribbons and strings knitting the back of your stuffy dress together.
Honestly- years in the royal palace and he still didn’t understand what it was with you people and these damn layers.
Your embarrassed silence was enough of an answer, and Toji’s bowing. “If I may-” Letting his gloves drop to the polished marble floor with a clunk! “No, I will if he won’t. Turn around.”
Slightly yelping, you’re letting yourself be tugged closer to the edge of the bed once Toji walks his way ‘round. Gruff, grouchy, and yet he was still making gentle work with your frilly back - unplucking you free, one by one.
“He said this was a woman’s work.” You sigh over the whoosh–! of creamy white ribbons being loosened from your outer corset. Lips twitching, “And I asked him if he’d rather I spent my wedding night with a woman, then.”
“Ya think? Anyone would be better than that pig-headed, brutish, fucking-”
“Language, Sir Toji.”
“Tch.”
As the last of your stringy restraints are untied, you have to bite back a moan at the roughened padding of Toji’s fingertips. Dexterous digits digging into where your muscles were tender from being cooped up like this all day, “You’re…surprisingly talented at this- practiced much, Toji?”
“Been watching you get dressed since I came to this palace, princess, don’t underestimate me.” He’s growling, and if the very tips of his ears burned at the thought of being the one undressing you - on your wedding night, of all things - then, well, he’s only glad the flickering chamber candles were too dim for you to tell.
“O-oh shut up.” You’re scoffing at the way Toji leers. Eyes darting anywhere but his and falling on- ah, your bed.
Your very un-mussed, very un-desecrated bed.
“Oh.”
Toji perks alert instantly, “Did I hurt-”
“No no–” Waving him off, “It’s just…the bed.” And as his face tilts in confusion, you feel a slight twinge of envy at the way he wasn’t aware of this particular royal custom.
Sighing, you pinch the plain sheets between your fingers. “The sheets- tomorrow morning, the courts will check and see that the marriage hasn’t been consummated. Of course, they’ll blame me for not trying hard enough to secure an heir. And I don’t trust my lovely husband to be over with his tantrum by then, so…”
Oh.
Oh.
The realization strikes - as do those words slip-
“I can help with that.”
Toji thinks he’s about to pass out- no, he thinks he’s already dead.
Because, surely, he was in heaven right now?
Or as close to heaven as he possibly could be - because with only a nod of yours, within only a few minutes he’s between your legs, kneeled at the very foot of your bed. The circles of his nostrils flaring in sweet, sweet anticipation the nearer he’s dragging his straight nosebridge in a meandering line towards your hot core.
Sniffing a deeeep few lungfuls of your body, your cunt’s saccharine aroma. Baritone so primally guttural n’ wet, “And yer sure? This isn’t just you talking out of- her?”
You’re whimpering once the honed, gleaming edges of his canines punctuate that last word by sinking into your drenched panties, gnawin’ until he lets it fall back with a sharp snap! that makes your heated skin sting.
You’re so wet that your inner thighs were gluing together with a thin sheen now, letting off the most sticky plap! of flesh-on-flesh as Toji throws one leg over his broad shoulder. The other pushed and pushed and pushed to spread apart with one of his rugged palms.
Hips squirming restlessly on your ancient bedsprings, “I’m positive. H-how bad can it really be?”
“Oh, princess, it won’t be bad.” The edges of Toji’s lips stretch at the way he hasn’t even started, and yet, you were already stuttering oh-so-cutely. The thickened curve of his thumb thumps against the top of your cunt, dragging a sultry touch down, down, doooown your sopping slit.
His eyes widen at the way it makes that flimsy fabric of your undergarments drench with a lil’ puddle of slick. And Toji feels his mouth water, “But don’t you take me for some priggish, posh prince that won’t eat out such a pretty pussy.”
“H-how crass!”
“Heh- if you think that’s crass…” Your knight doesn’t finish his sentence, only hooking a roaming index underneath the hemline of your panties.
Toji bores his half-lidded eyes straight into yours when he tugs- when he rips your starchy white underwear off. Absolutely nothing against his monstrous strength as your personal guard— “Skirts up.”
And you’re barely registering his grunted words fast enough to pull your numerous inner layers up to your heaving chest, barely on time before Toji jerks his head slightly back and spits.
Straight onto his target of your pussy, it cakes such a warm layer of sap that trickles down n’ in between your puffy folds.
“Messy giiirl–” He’s more than happy to spank the pad of his thumb down on your swollen entrance and smear the glossy mess. “Hidin’ this away under all those layers. How dare you.”
Prying the edge of your cunt open just enough so that he could sneak a teasing look at your sloppily soaked hole.
Toji’s scorching hot breath hits your skin in gusts once he’s leaning closer, nibbling on your fleshy pussylips until you whine. “O-oh my- s’it always this rude when one does…this?”
“No.” Gurgling out those syllables right where you were the most sensitive, he’s toying with you. Playing. Driving you mad with the tickling sensation of his scarred lips latching nose-deep into your pussy, “Just me.”
You buck, you keen, you spray him in even more gooey wads of slick that slip n’ slide riiight down Toji’s throat. And he stays there, maw agape so that you could watch each slithering trailway he drinks up like a man parched.
Like he was thirsting for water for years before coming across your leaking pussy, Toji spanks the underside of his palm against your cunt and makes you still.
“Now now-” Non-dominant hand latching to your waist to help you hold still, your knight snarls. “Enough runnin’, tell me what you want, princess.”
You claw desperately at the shaggy black strands of his bangs, a shrilling noise escaping you that you’ve never made before. Pulling him- “Want it, Toji. For you to do the…thing.”
“Ah ah-” Oh, he was having sooo much fun making his pretty royal beg for him like this. “The what? Didn’t you take all those ngh- elocution lessons, hm?”
Pulling away, in response your breath hitches with what sounds like a strangled sob, and it’s enough to make his aching cock twitch. Mindlessly humping the bulging outline of his girth against the cool wood of your bed frame, “Like my mouth?” Rubbin’ the line of his scar up and down your cunt, “My scar?”
Nodding and nodding because that’s all you can do, he watches on with a hooded gaze at the way your legs twitch with need.
Lengthy tongue flopping out even further, your mouth drops ever-so-slightly as you take in how long he was. And he was going to use that? Slathering the very edge of his temperate muscle over your folds, “Then uuuuuse- your-” Pokin’ his nubbed end just back in between your soppy lips to make you bawl- and right out again. “-words.‘
“P-please!”
“Hmm–?”
“Please-” Tears bubble up by the corners of your eyes, and your chin drops down to your chest as you wail out the rude, un-ladylike answer he’s been dying to hear these past few minutes. Past few years, really. “-e-eat me out?”
He was ruining you.
And did your command even have to be a question with the way that Toji was instantly diving his face between your trembling legs like his life depended on it.
Swirlin’ the textured buds of his tongue smack-dab on top of your swollen, sensitive folds to give you a goood, long lick. Once - just a taste before he pulls away with a short ‘fuck’, before surging back in.
Twice, before- thrice, he was addicted.
Smack after smack of his dewy wet lips that were simply drippin’ wet with all your juices, Toji’s gluing his maw against your core and sucking you all in.
He’s fighting to keep his verdant irises from rolling all the way back, he couldn’t even bring himself to even breathe before smushing his handsome features between your legs.
Gulping, “So fuckin’ sweet, princess. Sweeter than any wedding cake.” Toji’s knees go weak at the syrupy wet taste of you splashing on his tongue. “N’ I haven’t eaten allll day.”
And it wasn’t anything innocent - nothing sweet about it - you’re feeling the slimy tip of his tongue ease out further from between his puckered lips and swipe the dewy droplets of slick back into your hole.
Filling up your entrance with his fat girth until the only thing you were cutely clenching ‘round was his tongue. Your mouth shapes into a soft circle as he starts thrashing his dextrous tongue all the way back n’ forth. “Ngh- ngh, fuck, Toji. It f-feels so…”
Fuck- not even the gossip of the court ladies talked about it being this good.
“Ohhh– what’s that? Using such expletives, where are your manners, hm?”
You’re fisting the expensive coverings of your bed as the tender, velvety underside starts scraping along just where you were fountaining out beads of slick the most. Toji’s high cheekbones hollow out with a slurp as he pumps his tongue in furiously. “How can I have manners when- oh fuck!”
Surprising yourself with the sheer carnal need that was seeping into your voice, your hazed pupils travel in circles inside of your eyes in synchronized tempo with his swirlin’ tongue. Rough, rugged.
“Tha’s it- that’s it.” Toji has the audacity to knock his pointed chin against the base of your cunt and snicker, spitting out yet another stringy wad of saliva that makes your pussy glisten damply. Splat! “Any louder and the entire hah! palace is gonna hear, princess.”
“And whose fault is that- oh!”
“Yours.” He answers, simply.
Already having located your swollen, perky clit and giving it a playful bite. Your spine arches back into the soft blankets as you see fucking stars, clawing through his sweaty scalp. “I-I should admonish you for cheek, Sir Toji.”
“Go on, then.” His gravelly tone was dangerous, sounding oh-so-vulgar from down below once Toji’s plastering his mouth in an open-mouthed smooch against your cunt and prying your pussy further open.
Breath hitching, his prolonged middle finger tugs on your swollen folds and slips just the plush pad in. Groaning at just how wet n’ ready you were for him, “Tell me to stop.” Stretch-stretch-stretching your snug entrance around his bullying digit, “Hmm– command me, princess.”
Sloppy and aching.
Eating you out like he was starved, you’re barely given the time to catch your breath.
Damn near crying out by the time he’s scouring your glossy folds with the curvature of his finger. So big that Toji’s reaching every geysering nook and cranny without even trying– “I-I– fuck! More-”
He gasps, “More?”
“M-more.” Your chin slaps stupidly against the treacly puddle of drool on your chest, one you didn’t even realize was there before. Hazily lidded eyes blinking down at him, “More, please?”
Even when you were this gone, you still used your adorable manners.
And that fact was enough for Toji to slip his free hand between his legs and massage the mountainous plane of his palm down on his throbbing length. Snaking a hand between his trousers, he silently thanked the wedding dress code for making it so that he didn’t need to wear his full metal armor today.
“My cute princess wants more. You- do you even know what you’re haaaa- asking for?” Toji pants - he heaves. Your cunt singing out a carnal squelch! as he’s crowning just the tip of his nimble index past your filthy hole.
Nearly the entirety of his upper weight crushing your body to the bed, movements jittery with desperation. He’s suckling on your clit like his favorite gummy whilst stretchin’ out your glutinous insides as if he was trying to mold you to his each shape.
Tracing your mushy channel in zig-zagged lines, the bed creaks each time you’re bucking to follow his lecherous movements. “D’you even know what I can do? How much I can streeeetch this tight pussy out?” Squeezing in another finger, he’s rawly opening up your cunt with crazed thrusts. “How much I’ve yearned-”
And more to shut himself up than anything, Toji stuffs his mouth full of your pretty lil’ clit. Craning his neck to let him drag his unfastened mouth over n’ over in slobbering drags.
Letting your restless hips ride his features, “O-ohhh Toji– it feels so good.” You mewl, your entire body burning after each knocking thrash of his barreling fingers.
He had three- three of them inside you. Slick, glissading, searching.
“Promise to hah- scream my name, princess.” He pipes up, still salivating all down your slit with ribbony wires of spittle that start formulating a puddle beneath you. Sexily-placed scar rubbing a lecherous massage as the curling tip of his tongue draws a few hearts on your clit. Like he was strangely…distracting you. Before-
“T-Toooji! There! There-”
He strikes your g-spot, mercilessly.
Whack after whack he’s pushing until the knobbled bumps of his knuckles are rawly red, poking into your deepest depths.
“Yeahhh- just like that, atta girl.” Toji utters on your tender, wet pussy and you see stars. Circling cartoonishly around and around your head while he keeps on probin’ your favorite spot.
A place you’d only read about in those steamy romance novels your attendants smuggled, and now your knight was treating it like some cute glossy button he kept on squishing. The steady pushes of his digits bruising a few circumferences onto that spot, he was leaving your head feverishly empty.
And you can feel his smug smirk on your pussylips, faltering ever-so-slightly when he’s twitching in his hands.
Oh, Toji could cum from just this.
Forced to dab the heavy padding of his thumb over his weeping divot, he knits his dark brows and tries to make sure that this was real. That he really had you like this - all whimpering and drooling with both pairs of pretty lips, the crevice of your mouth opening with the loudest, most broken sob of- “Feels so strangeee–” Hips jutting, “I’m close.”
“F-fuck.” And if his voice broke on that last line, you were too far gone to recognize it. Like a madman, he’s twisting his mouth to now drink in all of you.
Everywhere from the puffed-up nub of your clit, to where your sappy entrance was bulging with all of him. All his rummaging size that dug against your delicate sweet spots, Toji was kissin’ you everywhere and anywhere.
Until his mouth burned, and your thighs quaked. “G-gonna…I’m gonna-” You’re croaking out, throat turning husky every time his tongue rolled over your clit, snaking up and down your folds.
“Cum- cum on my tongue, princess.” Toji bores his dilated green gaze straight up at you as he grins. Lovingly. Pussydrunken. “That’s an order.”
And then you cum- and it’s right all over his mouth like he’d hoped.
All down his tongue. Pooling at the back of his raping throat. Thick, splashing waves of sap that he’d love to drown himself in - to drown himself in your sweet, orgasming pussy.
Toji’s riding you through each peak of your high on the dot, slashing his tongue in a slanted drag across your clit repeatedly. It’s such a primal back n’ forth that leaves your hips slamming back into his mouth.
Voice wavering, it takes you a few seconds to blink away the blotches of pure white staining your vision. “Th-that feels so–” Still suffering from each ravaged shake that wrecks you, “Wait- are you…”
And as your vision finally clears just the slightest bit, you’re catching the sight of Toji’s beefy arm disappearing underneath your bed posts. Moving to and fro angrily–
“Nothing to w-worry about, princess.” His smoky croon makes the line of your spine shiver, lavishing your cunt with another polish of his mouth. Allll the way up to your pulsing clit, he gives your g-spot another merciless thump. “Nothing to worry about at- fuck-”
He might be the strongest of all your knights, but he can’t handle this.
Can’t handle you looking so damn dazed on his tongue, twitching with even the tiniest graze over your sweet spots. Tearing out of your pretty pussy all for him - that he can’t help but reach his high.
And Toji wasn’t going to let it go to waste, no- in a quick split-second, he’s forcing himself from his kneeled position at the edge of the bed and hiking a meaty thigh beside your hips. Straddling you with all his bulky bodyweight, grabbing ahold of his reddened fat cock as he cums.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” He’s nibbling down on his rosy lower lip and still can’t hold back the sheer amount of moans that escape him.
Your eyes widen at the voluminous droplets of seed dribbling from that circular end of his shaft, throbbing and glittering with wiry strands of cum clinging to him. “Th-there’s so much, Toji.”
Head slouching forwards- “S’all for you, princess.” Toji’s orgasm hits him like a damn carriage, and it’s pure adoration to keep on creaming himself to the way you looked underneath him that he isn’t simply collapsing on top of you right now.
Whimpering, your cunt starts throbbing needily once more at the splatters of syrupy ivory sap staining your sheets now. Making a mess.
Husking, “S-s’all-” Still airy n’ half-lidded, Toji moves as if he’s in a dream when he creeps his cherry-red tip towards your plush lips. Inch by inch. Toned hips moving forward, toes curling as his angry cock cums even more– “-for you.”
“Oh- mmmm—” You’re looking up at him through your lashes once the last few pearly droplets of seed trickle down to your maw like a white gloss, mouth all full. Toji’s mushroom tip was as pink as a strawberry and just as massively thick, scraping your jaw with the puffy edges of his veins.
Finally stealing a proper look at him, he just looked so attractive with your slick sparkling on his chin. Plastering a wet gleam all the way from the tips of his cheeks down his sharp jaw.
Just dripping wet - he was wearing the mess he’d made of your pussy like a medal.
“Oh. Oh.” Toji’s dark pupils dilate, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he had heart eyes. Shuffling further down to give your soaked mouth a looong, thorough kiss. His first, in fact, that he’s been saving for either you or no one. Not that he would tell you that. “Congratulations on the wedding.”
You’re whining, as if you’d just remembered what today was. “And what about the problem of an heir?”
“O-one thing at a time, princess. Besides…”
Toji didn’t have to finish his sentence for you, too, to register what his keener ears had picked up. The distant thundering of footsteps-
“They’re back.”
And just as soon as he’d arrived, he was gone.
A fever dream that never happened- or, at least, Toji would never believe it happened if not for the cloying treacly taste of you still sticking to his lips. And if Ijichi arrived alone, with Naoya still in the throes of his tantrum, and sleeping over at some other ward of the palace - well, he may have just cracked a smile.
“What a great affair today- eh, Ijichi?”
“Y-yes, sir!”
.
.
.
Naoya accepted your explanation of using oils to trick the court into thinking the marriage was consummated, but what wasn’t accepted was the fact that weeks had passed and you still weren’t with child.
With an heir.
And right now the pressure from the court was crushing–
“You must understand, my lady. You’re already at that age, and our majesties aren’t getting any younger!”
“Quite right quite right, an heir- if we can have an announcement before the upcoming ball-”
“It is imperative we have a newborn soon. Our enemies will see this as a weakness-”
“Right, and I believe Naoya will attend to that.” You’re throwing a bored glance at the way your husband lounged near the end of the council table. Stood tall, and aloof with power. And you didn’t mean just the matters with your kingdom’s enemies, Naoya hadn’t even tried to touch you since that night.
To which you’ve been quite grateful, frankly.
You cringe at the thought of what this arranged marriage may come to, and the fact that there was certainly no way Naoya could even hold a candle to how good Toji was-
No, subtly, you’re shaking your head. You couldn’t be thinking about these sorts of things during an official advisory meeting - especially not when your personal knight stood guard right beside your bejeweled chair.
“-and his highness Naoya was so passionate on your wedding night.” Tuning back into the important conversation at hand, you’re almost regretting it.
The elder that’d just spoken up sounded almost giddy with excitement, and you’re realizing - at his red-blotched cheeks - that he must have been part of the group to assess your bedsheets on the morning after your wedding night.
Plowing on, almost conspiratorial, “I mean- the way those fine silks were torn- surely you must try harder, my lady, to replicate that night. Otherwise we might have to consider additional royal consorts.”
Beside you, you’re feeling Toji’s towering figure stiffen- recreating that night with Naoya was the last thing he wanted. And he’s growling out through his helmet before he can control himself, “We have no ongoing wars. We have no rebellions. I’d say we’re quite at peace without rushing the princess, minister.”
“And who gave you permission to speak, knight?”
Oh, you don’t have to look up to know who seethed.
The shards of vicious ice cutting through his voice was enough for you to already envision the glare that Naoya was sending Toji’s way. “And you’re one of the lower-born ones- a peasant, are you not? Aren’t you the one that had to get on your knees and beg to be able to take training?”
Toji grits his teeth so hard he tastes rusted metal, “I am.”
“So it is much above you to even breathe so loud during a meeting such as this- is it not?”
“It is.”
“Then why do you butt in like some- some lover when we talk of her duty-”
“Because my duty is to the princess you impotent lout.” Toji’s voice was thunderous, making the long wooden table tremble and the court advisors to hold onto their breath. You were quite sure you saw at least one faint.
And Toji would let anyone mouth off against him - but one word against you and he would stand up to the king that knighted him himself. Nevermind some arrogant prince who couldn’t count the blessings he had.
A prince who, he was sure, was on the verge of bursting right now.
Face an unseemingly shade of red, veins popping, mouth spitting with what were surely punishments–
“I will remind you, husband-” Your voice speaks up, with all the regal authority that half this court wouldn’t be able to muster up. And every head snaps to you as if watching a particularly complex jousting competition. Your eyes narrow down at Naoya, “-that you are not king, yet.”
It didn’t even matter if he was - you would still not allow him to lay a hand on your steadfast knight.
And there was nothing more to say.
Gingerly, the senior advisor, Gakuganji, is slamming down the tiny golden gavel to adjourn the court session. And every huffy elder nearly tumbles out of their seat to escape the stifling tension between you three.
“You-” Naoya declares, as he stands up. With a jolt, you realize that he’s glaring venomously at none other than Toji. “I might not be king but I am next in line. And you shall do well to stay away from my wife-”
Those razor-sharp eyes now falling on you, and even though Toji’s body moves- his heart can’t help but ache at the fact that he had no right to stop the future king - your husband - from daring to look at you with anything but love. Suspiciously, “-or else.”
In a flutter of velvety capes, Naoya is dragging his court entourage off - each one undoubtedly buzzing to gossip outside about the scandal of your knight as they slam the door behind them.
And then, you’re alone.
It’s tough to be alone with someone as princess - always in the presence of elders, guests, or subjects - and this is the first time the two of you have been together in a room, unsupervised, since…that night.
Toji’s mouth runs dry at his blatant disrespect- not only did he have to embarrass you, but he had made you fall within Naoya’s line of sight so vile. “My p- princess, I am sorr-”
“Touch me.”
Fuck.
It’s only once your face breaks out into a tentative smile that he’s realizing he might have just said that out loud. And you’re standing- walking, cornering him, “Well…if you really want to, Sir Toji.”
“But your husband…”
And he didn’t really care for that prince, he only cared for what they might say about you if anyone saw. If anyone knew-
“Since when—” You’re drawling, eyes dipping lower. He really was oh-so-sculptured in his armor, all broad lines and chiseled curves. And it made the thin silk of your dress rub lewdly when you’re clenching your thighs, “-have we cared about him?”
Suddenly, you’re getting a demonstration on why exactly Toji Fushiguro was the fittest of all your knights - the one chosen specifically for you.
Because your back hits the frigid coldness of the table before the recognition hits you- as soon as you blink, as soon as you can gasp, Toji’s lifting you clean off the ground and sprawling you out so prettily.
Right then and there in the middle of the meeting hall.
The velvety fabric of your dress draping across half the chairs, legs flying up into the air in such an unroyal way until Toji’s grabbing ahold of your ankles. Stretchin’ them out to lock around the back of his neck with one big, beefy hand.
You ogle the way his plates of armor shift as his biceps flex from underneath, pushing apart your too-many layers and twisting your undergarments just to the side. “Toji wh-what are you…”
“Sayin’ those things and expecting me not to lose it.” Comes out the answer - rough, hoarse. Like every syllable was wrenched from the back of his smoky throat, sensual. “Maybe I’ve been too- nice- princess.”
You’re whimpering, hips bucking needily off of the flat surface when Toji punctuates the very end of his sentence by rovering the blunt, glinting hilt of his sword between your legs.
Safe. He would always keep you safe. Letting that scalding coldness drag down, down, down between them–
“Oh- fuck!” Before pressing down so meanly on the slope of your throbbing pussy with his metal shaft, you’re seeing stars once he’s nudgin’ apart your puffy folds just enough to locate your clit and massage.
“Seems like we’ve taught my lil’ princess some baaad manners, huh?” He’s snickering, ‘round and ‘round go the gyrations of decorated hilt.
And you’re so wet that every swerve of his blade leaves the barren air ringing with a muffled squelch! Thighs twitching further apart, he takes the opportunity to clunk his muscular thigh up on the ledge and let it grind just teasingly against your cunt.
Watching in awe as a puddle of silvery sap starts polishing his knee-plate, “Why don’t you get yourself off, princess? Hah- use me.”
“S-so crude.”
Latching onto the broad deltoids of his shoulders, Toji’s bending and bending you all the way in half like a parchment. Smooth fringes of his knee sinking in past the plush of your thighs and draggin’ up your slit.
The metallic surface of his armor squeaks when you prod up into it sloppily, riding his knee. All the way up to his thigh-
“And this, princess–” He gruffs out from above you, scorching hot pants sending goosebumps down your neck. Your hamstrings buuurn when he pushes against you, mounted, almost like he was fucking you- just with clothes and armor unfortunately on. “-is called a mating press. Never taught that one in elocution classes before, huh?”
A mating press- oh, Toji had you in a mating press, and he was rutting down into you until your joints popped in protest.
Wrangling the fronts of your knees until they hit your tits, he’s lavishing his tongue on the crook of your neck and biting.
“Oh, what I would ngh- give to have you like this.” Scarred maw tickling your skin, he’s humping you like he’s in heat. “Would absolutely ruin you.”
“S-so why don’t you-” You’re whimpering once he’s gripping a good handful of your left ass cheek, usin’ the lewd leverage to motion you in a manhandled pace. You’re not just being angled, he’s lifting you almost into midair so that you could hit the most perfect spots on your pussy against his thigh.
Crushing the front of your perky clit against his muscles, he snarls when your riding becomes more erratic. His ears burning, “Don’t- haaaah- don’t tempt me, girl- m’already so-”
He doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for Toji’s mossy eyes to drop and for you to realize exactly what he’s talking about.
The firm, rock-hard outline of his cock that was peeking out through the gaps in his armor- you don’t even consider what you’re doing before you’re undoing one of his tight laces to let the metal drop and show you all of his bulge.
“Oh, shit-” Toji gasps, eyes sprinting to the back of his skull when you tug down his black trousers to palm his throbbing erection. “Oh shit oh shit-”
“I-I thought these were padding-”
He smirks, “Heh- not for me.”
And, truly, you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at Toji’s fat, veiny cock when you had the chance to on your wedding night. Because he was just so damn big that you’re finding trouble wrapping your hand around his entire girth, palm tingly where you could feel all his prominent veins pulsing across.
Zig-zagged patterns that Toji hunches over and makes you feel-
“M’not fuckin’ breeding ya.” He spits as soon as he lifts his dripping knee off with a sopping plap! Though, he still keeps his sheathed sword hilt positioned on top of your clit. “Just let me…just…”
Toji couldn’t even begin to explain how filthy it felt to be doing what he was doing.
Holding you all spread apart for him while he fucked you- all without putting it inside like he so badly wanted to. Just lazed, sensual draaaags of his lengthy shaft straightly across your slit. All the way from where his pointed mushroom tip poked your clit, to the innocent smooch of his balls against your cunt.
Bass voice hitching with a crack, “I can’t- I-I can’t I can’t-” It sounded as if he was losing it- Toji’s given an inch and he takes a mile. Rearing the bulbous end of his cockhead to slip underneath your panties- “M’gonna go fucking crazy like this.”
“F-fuuuck- feels like you’re ngh- really fucking me, Toji–”
“Don’t say that- ohhh, don’t say that, princess.” Warning you from above, Toji’s free hand grabs a handful of your sopping soaked underwear so that he can wrap the useless fabric around his shaft whilst he grinds down on you. Faster. “S’fuckin’ dangerous, might just end up giving birth to a heh- Fushiguro.”
Mewling whines, “I-I don’t mind-”
The only thing you can get out before Toji crashes his mouth into yours and makes you shut up before you made him even more feral. Vulgar groans departed into your lips as he thrusts across your pussy, barely audible over the sluuuurp of your two juices mixin’.
“Now whaaat have I said about talking out- of- her-” His sensitive pink slit scratches the nub of your clit along with his blade haft, and that makes you see white.
Again and again and again- so close. Toji was just so unintentionally sexy as he pushed you closer n’ closer, meaty thighs sticking against yours, beads of sweat splattering down onto your body, and it only made you even wetter to imagine how much better it would feel if he actually–
“Oh-” Your knight gruffs out, stern lips twitching into a smirk when he snaps his eyes down to your furiously fluttering pussy. “-you’re cumming, princess.”
You- Clenching your eyes as you throw your head back and mewl. You were.
And you didn’t even realize it until Toji was pressing one particularly prominent vein between your bloated pussylips, letting the gleaming curve of it dig back n’ forth against your cunt and grind you through your high.
White-hot bolts of fire sparking, spine arching into his armor.
“O-oh please–” Such pretty noises of pleasure escape your lips, and right now you’re too far gone to wonder or even care if someone might hear from outside. Toes curling, “Toji Toji Toji- Toooji—!”
Chilling metal hilt scraping your pretty clit, “That’s it- thaaat’s it- might not get to stuff you like I want to, princess. But you-” Darkened green eyes stare into yours seriously, “But you’re cumming for me.”
Toji keeps on staring right into your eyes as he fucks himself against your pussylips- straight into his own high. Forcing himself to milk out every drop, to cream all over your puckered lips with a froth of sappy white.
Hissing, it’s all he can do to stop himself from throwing his head back at his orgasm - not wanting to miss a single nanosecond of your expressions.
You’re blubbering out stupidly, “Will it always ngh- feel this good, Toji?”
“I can’t always have you, princess.” With a saccharine-sweet squelch! he dabs the thick end of his thumb into the pool of white that’d collected near your entrance. Letting it drip a few speckles of cum on its way to plop! right between your pouty lips. Making you suck.
It’s all Toji can do to not keen as he responds, “And- and when you…” He gulps, and in all the years you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so pained. Sage eyes narrowing, he gazes into yours as if he was trying to memorize each blink. Each twinkle. Each shade. “-when you have children, please- please don’t let them have…”
Your eyes, the ones he’d never forget. The ones he’ll see till his dying day. He could handle watching you grow your family, raising heirs while he stands by your sides as he always has.
But if he has to look at them and be looked at through your eyes- ones that never knew him as you did, he doesn’t think even the strongest knight could bear it.
It’s what he wanted to say.
It’s what he would’ve never forgiven himself if he said- because who was he, really, to demand such a thing from you?
So it was only because the universe had finally taken pity on poor Toji Fushiguro and his hopeless love that they decided to spare him this. Because just before he could dare finish that sentence, there’s a soft gasp from the other end of the doorway.
Your blood crystalizes into ice, and Toji’s immediately covering your body- shining blade honed in on the faint figure of Ijichi, who’d very obviously been handed the task of bringing you two back to court.
“S-sorry for interrupting!”
With a bow so low that his wiry glasses clatter briefly onto the marble floor, Ijichi shuts the door fast enough that your mind - still reeling from your recent orgasm - starts to wonder whether he might even have been a figment of your imagination.
Until Toji breathes out a ragged sigh of almost relief, “I have a new recruit to teach about knocking, princess.” Before staring back at you - and that ivory puddle of cum between your legs, and he grins. “Keep that there.”
.
.
.
Toji Fushiguro knew you had a penchant for wandering off- it’s how he met you, after all.
That starry-eyed lil’ girl, just a few years younger than he was, who was roaming around the bustling streets of the town market with absolutely no sense of danger or emergency. Seriously- why the hell were you entertaining that hawker trying to sell you glass as real pearls, when you were obviously wearing the real thing?
And even from a distance, it was obvious that you were out-of-place. So Toji, with all his wizened fourteen years as an actual townsfolk, was the one to help you.
“-from the greatest depths of the greatest sea, I tell you, little miss! And only for you I will give you the low, low price of-”
“Absolutely nothing.” Toji had snarled, signature scowl on his face - he was the most feared of the neighborhood boys for a reason. “That’s what tha crap’s worth.”
Pawing a hand on the silken sleeve of your dress, it’s only after he’d tugged you away from the shop and by his side that he’s remembering something you nobles (even badly disguised ones) had called ah- etiquette.
But no matter, it was too late for that now, and you weren’t complaining either. Only peering up at him with a questioning gaze as Toji pulled you closer to his dirtied undershirt with a hand on your shoulder, “Scam the rich not the kids, fuckin’ conman.”
That seemed to draw a reaction from you, “Oi- who’re you calling a kid-”
“And who’re you calling a conman.” Indignantly, the older man eyeballed the two of you menacingly, “Who even are you, little twerp- I can’t imagine you’re her boy-”
“Gods yeah, I’m her- boy.”
The words made his ears hot with blood, Toji wasn’t popular with anyone in the neighborhood - all finding him too frightening and big - let alone with the daughter of some aristocracy like you. But you weren’t correcting him, either!
“S-so–” The hawker seemed to have believed him, at the way his tannish cheeks were boiling bright red more than anything. It was enough embarrassment for him, and Toji’s turning to tug you away, “-you better- stay away from my girl!”
Hell, that was worse than embarrassing.
Toji’s noticing that damn near the entire market turns at his cracking voice and wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
Even more so when he’s out of earshot of the marketplace and you speak up- “So, my…boy, huh?” Shit- he was still holding onto your hand. You giggle when Toji lets go as if you burned, finding the older boy hilarious. He turns to you and oh- oh, his breath catches at your smile. “Guess that makes you the future king- you seem quite a lot better than that Zenin boy, anyways.”
“Future…king?”
It’s only then that he hears it- the galloping of horses so powerful that they could only be part of the palace’s special forces. The call of ‘princess! There you are-’
“-out of it.” Wafts Ijichi’s tremoring voice through his little reverie. Tone slightly raised over the humming orchestra, “Toji, sir- sir!”
Toji jolts as he’s brought back- right, here he was. Stationed guard inside the ballroom of one of the most important annual functions of your kingdom, to bless the first few months of the newly-married couple.
He’d zoned out just as your father, the king, had introduced the two of you, and Naoya had led you by your hand for the honored first dance - nothing worse than seeing you in the arms of another.
He’d rather live in his memories with you, than a real life without.
And that brought him back to Ijichi- whispering, though Toji wasn’t sure if it could count as whispering if half the surrounding nobles could likely hear. “Is this because of the other week when I caught you and the princess-”
“You will shut your mouth, Ijichi.” He cuts him off, tightly.
“Yes, sir!”
Bored eyes refocusing back on the middle of the dancefloor, it seems the first dance was finally, torturously over. And Toji’s licking his dry lips as his gaze instantly finds you, as they always can’t help but do.
Always looking at you.
Two parts of the same heart when they meet yours- and Toji feels a part of his break at the sad glimmer in your eyes when you’d wandered to the side of the polished floor, smearing one of those aching faux smiles he’s learned to distinguish. You wanted to leave.
How could you stand there like that?
So bothered and beautiful in your flowing gown, looking as if the rays of the chandeliers above were bouncing off of your sparkling dress - like they, too, knew they wouldn’t shine half as bright as you. And where was your husband-
Oh.
Toji feels something ugly twist at the sight of Naoya talking with a court lady, a smizing smile on his lips. Too close. Too hurtful. And it’s a damn miracle he didn’t slay the heir right then and there.
“Ijichi-” He hisses out, suddenly. Nodding as the other man yelps into rapt attention, “Hold my station- I have fuckin’ important business to attend to.”
The new recruit almost looks as if he was about to argue his superior orders, that is, until he follows Toji’s line of sight to meet you.
“Understood, sir. Please take care of the princess.”
It takes Toji almost fifteen years to reach you, and only three steps.
“Toji!” You gasp, seeing your lifelong friend bound up to your side, pointedly away from his station. “What are you doing here-”
“Do you want it to be him?”
Eyes boring into yours, hands itching for your own. He can apologize and grovel at your feet later for cutting the future queen off, but right now he just needs to know. And you already know, too.
Your eyes darting to the middle of the dancefloor, where the string quartet had started up a new romantic melody, and Naoya was dragging a giggling noble lady into a dance.
You could feel the eyes on you, and not just Toji’s. “Consorts. I told him I didn’t want- and then- about the heir- I think he just wanted consorts from the beginning. That’s why…but even though we’ve never consummated, our marriage is a contract so I can’t.”
“Do you want it to be him?” And Toji never repeats himself - not to eager new knights, generals, or those court elders - always listened to.
But he would echo those very words to you as many times as you wanted until he was heard.
Your voice was almost a whisper- “No.”
There comes your answer, and there comes that familiar scarred grin of his.
“Then come with me.”
.
.
.
“M-mm right there, Toji–” Your cries rip through the empty atmosphere of the knight’s quarters, right in unison with the rickety creak! given off by Toji’s shabby bed as you buck your hips in tandem.
The glossed walls of your cunt scouring for the touch of his roughened fingertips, scraping and stirrin’ right between your pussylips and hitting the bottom deeply. It’s driving you mad how easily he’s spotting your sultry g-spot, clawing at his ruthless wrist-
“Impatient giiirl.” He croons out cockily from above you, words huffed through clenched teeth. And Toji’s pressing his capped knee against your restless thigh to make you take it- “Unless you want my fat fuckin’ cock to hah- stretch the princess out then take it.”
You’re whimpering, spine arching off of the clammy blankets when his middle finger flicks your sweetest spot. “I-is it always that big that you have to stretch it out this much.”
“No.” Comes the answer - and Toji’s free hand toying with your left hand. Particularly the diamond ring on it, one he’s unapologetically plucking off of your finger and pushing onto his own - his thick pinky finger being where it would fit.
Before slipping the banded digit past your dewy wet folds with a pryin’ squeeeelch, the noise is so loud and lewd that Toji groans as your greedy cunt swallows his fourth finger inside. “Jus’ me, princess.”
Just what- your brain can barely even compute past the stretch. The firm ridges of your knight’s lengthy fingerpads barreling straight past your elastic hole.
Opening you up so much on his digits that it takes you a few breaths, a few seconds staring between Toji’s meaty thighs for you to understand what he meant- oh.
He was just that big.
Whimpering, the chilling royal insignia creeps along your gummy walls and presses deep into your tender areas. Splotchy puddles of sap dribbling down Toji’s wrist, “Chatting to me from there too, huh? So loud- they’ll hear us at the ball, princess.”
They wouldn’t - the Keep too barren with every knight stationed, and the music of the orchestra too loud. You’re sure that the royal event was so bustling that no one’s even noticed you were gone, yet.
But you mewl anyway, “Th-then- ngh! Then just wan’ you inside, Toji- please.”
Oh, the sound of your cute begging makes Toji’s ravaged, aching cock twitch. “Ohhh- I wanna fuck those manners outta you-” He groans, head slouching backwards once he’s assessing your driveling cunt.
Faster, harder.
Toji’s fingers carnally itch your pussy like he was crazed, pumping feverish in n’ out like he wasn’t even letting your slick, bulging folds get used to the stretch. Just watching with a leer as you struggle.
Gruffing, “Open those pretty legs for me wider- yeahhh–” Toji’s sweaty, armorless body nuzzles the insides of your sheeny limbs. His bulky legs spread apart until his heavy erection throb-throb-throbs by the side of your inner thighs.
“Wh-what are you-”
“Shhh watch.”
You can’t do anything but gawk once he’s rovering his free hand over your tummy- doughy thumb pressing down on the button of your clit, index streeeeetching upwards.
He was measuring you. Measuring just how far his cock would go inside you.
Once the curve of your knight’s index draws a horizontal line about halfway down your stomach, he grins. “There-” X marks the spot, and you yelp once the stern point of his finger taps right there. “-m’gonna fuck an ngh- heir into you there, princess.”
“Th-then do it, Sir Toji.” You huff, brows knitting with impatience.
“Well…” He drawls, and for a second you think that Toji’s about to pull away and leave you all high and dry. But, really, he’s just tugging on his snug white undershirt, dampened and clinging onto him with sweat in a way that made it look painted.
Your mouth waters as you peek at the curly black happy trail which was lining the middle of his abs - so toned and tense that you could count exactly eight. Maybe more.
A pearly droplet of sweat clings onto one of his shaggy bangs, and drips- slithering between Toji’s pectorals, his bumpy core, disappearing into where his heavy cock was fat n’ throbbing.
In the dimmed lighting of Toji’s bedroom, you can already make out just how red and pretty his bulging tip was, curved just slightly right and weeping fat globules of frothy pre. It collects in a sleek mess over your pussylips, damn near ten inches of veiny shaft settled between your slit and waiting.
He was weighty.
“-if my queen asks.”
And Toji knows you. He waits just until your mouth opens to snark back- before kissin’ your glistening entrance with the edge of his mushroom tip and pushing—
“O-ohhh fuck–!” You’re letting off a shrill wailing whimper, hands reaching somewhere- anywhere for you to hold onto for dear life while Toji fit himself inside your tight pussy.
Slurring, you grasp onto the rippling muscles of his deltoids and claw such red, red lines. “Shoooo big-”
Toji’s leaning himself closer, he’s slouching. He’s swabbing his plump, swollen tip deeper-
“A m-mating press.” Barking out a sudden laugh - octaves higher, wild like he was still in disbelief. Toji snakes his beefy arms underneath both your thighs and lifts you up until your ass cheeks are almost off the aged mattress. Folding and folding- he really was pushing you into a mating press. “I have you in a mating press- you. Like I’ve always dreamed.”
Before the words have even left his mouth, he reaches down to swab your bloated folds with the edge of his thumb. Straightly smoothing your pussylips and watching how you gulping down each solid, rummaging inch.
“And yer taking me-” Gasping, just the slightestshift closer leaves his pointed cockhead gliding off your walls and burying even deeper. Snagging his tender veins on your orifice and making him hiss, “-taking me allll up inside. O-oh, you’re so fucking- tight-”
It’s the first time you’ve ever been stretched out this much. Toji’s so damn big that it’s like your soppy walls were clinging to him like a second skin.
Not even thrusting properly, quick, rapid half-ruts that make him feel more like an animal. The curves of his spine bowing against where your syrupy pussy was being stretched out, “But will it even fit, then?”
“M’gonna make it fit.” He growls, slowing down the mindless cadence of his hips to a lazy tempo that makes you keen at the sensual lightning bolts of his veiny shaft.
Feeling every twirling coil and pulse shoveling through your entrance.
Possessively, Toji’s guiding one of your sweaty palms within his. Placing it right down on your tummy and pushing on the back to make you press- “Here- feel.”
“Oh-oh!”
You’re seeing white- the walls of your pussy being sagged by his cock’s weight.
Toji was making you massage where his pounding shaft was creating a lil’ bulging outline. Feeling every mazing bump where his slimy tip was snaking to your deepest depths. “Feel the way you’re sluuuurping me up s-so good. S’like you’re made for me.”
Crying out- you can’t keep yourself from planting your feet flat and leaning into his touch. “Don’t tease me and j-just put it all the way in, To- fuck!”
“Awww, but I’ve waited years, princess.” He snickers, kneading harder on the cylindrical ridge of your cute tummy bulge. And oh- Toji can feel that precise moment he’s bottoming out.
When he’s bubbling out a fat wad of precum that smears against the very back of your cervix, the edge of his ballsack hitting your cunt. Finally. Finally.
Panting- seething through his teeth at the gooey warmth, “Princess- princess princess- oh, princess, m’finally inside you.”
Experimentally, Toji reels his hips all the way back - all the way until the cherry-red end of his cocktip was sticking to your hole like adhesive. Before slamming right back in- “And again.” Another. “And again. And again and- hngh- again.”
“Shit- shit shit shit y-you really are all the way inside.”
You caress the mean bulging swab of his cocktip against the top of your tummy, confirming to your melted mind that he wasn’t actually thumping your damn lungs - even though it might feel like it.
“Of course I am-” Toji doesn’t end his hoarse declaration with any punctuation. He’s finishing it with a quick splat! of saliva gluing your lips shut, “You’re mine.”
With a hand on your tummy to balance himself, he leans just the barest inches backwards until he can do the same to your puckered pussy. Splatter! It’s so wet and gleaming with moisture that forms the most sinful pool, “All mine. And I’m yours.”
And now he’s fucking you like a madman, drilling the split-ended circle of his orifice against your mushy walls until you sob.
The size of him was insane. It was stretching you out so good that all you can do is flap your mouth-watered tongue wetly inside and yeowl. “Ngh- feels so good- feels so full inside with you, Toji.”
“Yer gonna feel ngh- even fuller when I fuck a baby into ya, girl.”
He scoffs once an especially hard thrust leaves the base of his cock stinging, and you shoved up to the headboard. “And n-no running.” Before you know it, Toji’s maintaining a rude chokehold of your neck and using it to drag you after every recoil. “How m’I gonna fuck a nghhh- baby into ya if you run, hm?”
Fuck- Toji’s jackhammers were vulgar - almost vicious.
Every spank of his v-line let off aggressive paps! that made your eardrums pop. Your lips wobbling each n’ every time his bulging tip was stirrin’ around your insides to pinpoint every sensitive orifice.
You feel the thin line running down his plummy tip scrape right along the bundle of your g-spot, dolloping out a stream of precum as hello. Grumbling, “Hmmm– how cute. Hope our heir’s just as cute as ngh- you.”
“Gonna be j-just as rude as you.” You’re mumbling, and his absolute favorite moment was whenever your hips would be so stimulated that you’re perking away from his thrusts.
All the better for him to tighten your airflow and bring you back down- humming at the erotic jiggle of your ass cheeks against his chiseled pelvis. “Heh- then I guess I’ll be the fun parent, meanwhile you…”
And fuck- fuck, he almost doesn’t finish his sentence with the way your tight, circular-shaped insides clench.
A glittery gloss of slick dripping down the sides of your pussylips, Toji’s scarred lips curl once he drags your pliant body back to his again. Relishing in the harsh smack! against his abs, “You can sit there while I give you a pretty lil’ heir. Make my h-hah! pretty lil’ princess all round n’ glowing. All-”
He doesn’t know what not to do. He’s touching you everywhere - anywhere.
From the underside of your thighs to the perky nub of your clit, Toji brandishes his thumb against your nub and watches you quake.
“-all pumped- full- until you can’t take anymore. S’my damn duty. I’ll wash them- dress them, put them to sleep, feed them- don’t have to do a nghh- damnnn thing. Just- get- pregnant.”
With the fringe of his muscular thigh lifting to keep you from running, you can only throw your head back and trill at the dual knocks of his cock against your g-spot, fingers against your clit. “I’m close- close- haaah not gonna last, Toji.”
“Already fuckin’ know.” He could feel the way your cute insides were clamping after every sweet ba-dump! of your racing heartbeat. The heavy curve of his balls begging him to milk himself on you, “Cum for me. Cum on my cock- fuck! The mama needs to cum if we’re gonna get you pregnant, princess.”
“Please- mm–”
“Deep breaths, deeeeep breaths.” With every heaving deep breath, his rams only grew deeper, too. Before ultimately Toji spreads his sweat-sheened thighs wider and groans— “Cum.”
It’s impossible not to listen - not when his fat, vein-decorated cock was splitting you open just so. Swervin’ your sticky walls apart and shoveling himself all the way near your throat whilst you reached your high.
“It’s sooo- oh.” Your vision dazed with stars, and it took so much out of you to even grind your hips down and meet his sloppy tempo. Keening, “Cum…inside.”
Oh-so-dumbified that you didn’t even realize Toji was already finishing himself off on your dripping wet cunt until he’s guiding one of your hands to feel your driveling pussy. Letting that saccharine white sap slip allll the way between your digits and wad up.
Nodding, your eyes just kept on criss-crossing after every knot of seed that bundled up near your cervix. Sloshing like waves against your womb-
“Oh look.” He’s manhandling your own hand to tease and sluuuurp down your overstuffed slit, pushin’ back in the knots of creamy white that leaked out. “Even she agrees- oh, aaaand you wanna know what else she’s sayin’?”
“Wh-what?”
Gruffly leaning in closer, Toji’s skin was so burning hot against yours that you feel your slam-impacted flesh break out in a fresh layer of perspiration. “She says it’s gonna be a girl.”
It was unsteady, animalistic the way that your knight- your lover was creaming out every ounce of cum on your pussy. Squishing it past your tight hole and letting his base slather in such a thick ivory ring, you whine. “O-oh, fuck, m’so sensitive, To- ah!”
But he wasn’t letting go of you that easily.
Fuck how electric skitters of your orgasm left your legs thrashing weakly, oh-so-overstimulated.
Toji hisses at the springy recoil of his knobbled tip against the entrance to your womb, rugged fingers dragging you back-
“How about…” Pressing down, your pretty bulge wasn’t simply filled with his cock anymore. It was jiggling around with the inflation of his masses of cum. “-we make it twins?”
.
.
.
And it could have been Toji simply greedy for a second round, for a lucky third, a fourth- but the only thing you’re sure of was that his wooden bed was brokenly sagging on one side by the time early day had begun breaking through the shutters of his drafty windows. Lighting your eyes ablaze once you’re lolling your head forwards and slamming your grinding hips down onto Toji’s.
You don’t know who’s more ruined now - him or you.
Whimpering at the slight scratch of his tufted happy trail, your thighs twitch weakly at the sensation. “H-haaa- just a little more- mmm a bit more, Toji.”
He sounds utterly fucking gone as he coos up at you, eyes half-closed. “You’ve been saying that for ngh- aaaages, greedy girl.” And yet, the cracked bedframe protests when he’s bucking his hips in tandem to puncture your battered g-spot with a spank. “G-gonna milk me d-ry–”
Toji’s voice was breaking, he was whimpering.
You gasp, “Did you just-”
“Shut up.” His veiny shaft enters your hole mercilessly- and each time you thought you were used to the textured stretch of his sheer size, he always manages to surprise you. “Sh-shut up and-”
Toji can’t even tell you to take it because you were- over n’ over until his bulbous, weighty balls were all tender, and each time your hips swerved in that wiiide heart shape left him drooling. Hypnotized.
A creamy circle of cum brands on his hilt and Toji gulps, “Get pregnant.”
“That’s what we’re doing.”
“Yes- yes, I want- no. I need it.” It wasn’t just enough to have you riding him, Toji’s rutting up in half-dazed ruts until he was seeing stars. “Need you to- get- pregnant.” One hand pawing at the bulging cumflation on your tummy, the other clinging onto your hips to make you bounce. “Get pregnant get pregnant- get- pregnant.”
He wasn’t just animalistic, he was feral. Filthily streaking your walls with a wisp of pre, every slight gush only makes his slip n’ slide probe deeper.
Blinking back fucking tears when your sopping wet walls clamp down - just the tiniest bit, but he was so damn fucked-out. He’s gasping, feverish, bucking-
Only to make the fleshy tip of his crown slip out of your sloppy entrance with a loud plop!
“N-no-” Toji’s lips depart a murky pant, entire body shuddering when one of his hands clasp his ravaged n’ red cock. “No no no no- no- inside, need it i-inside.”
“O-ohhh fuck the stretchh–”
Maw dropping, voice hoarse with calling his name - if the ball hadn’t heard you before, then they sure as hell were now.
Whining, you’re cumming on Toji’s cock for the nth time in the past few hours. Well, ‘cumming’ was an understatement - you’re downright drenching him in sparkly bucketloads of your squirt.
Letting it drip down the sides of his ripped, flexible hips, showering him in a thin spray of your cloying wetness. You find it easy to use that sticky moistened texture as a way to glissade your front down his abs and ride him to insanity.
Milking Toji’s fat, bludgeoning cock until he was wrung dry.
Hitting and hitting the goopy spots inside you that clamped down on him the tightest, and yet, all his achingly hard tip could do was flinch. Jolting with a few sparks of pleasure once he’s hitting his wave of bliss. “Shit- shit, ya fucking milked me sucked me- hah- dry. Sucked me all dry.”
Cumming.
Cumming and cumming so hard that Toji half wonders whether he could cum again. The softened smooch of his ballsack makes his head feel numb, teeth grit as you just keep on riding him in slight motions repeatedly. As if you couldn’t stop anymore.
“I-I love you.” Toji breathes, voice cracked. Holding you tight against him, “I’ve always- always loved you. I’ve loved you so long that I’d tear down any world where I don’t.”
“Toji- I love you, too.”
Toji feels the scouring end of his mushroomy tip skim deeply into your womb, letting it brand its spongy circumference and stay there while he babbles. Hopelessly pussydrunk. Hopelessly in love. “Run away with me…?”
Took him long enough.
.
.
.
“My princess, I told you not ta handle heavyduty tasks when you’re-”
“And I’ve already told you, my Sir Toji, that reading a book isn’t heavyduty.”
“Just let me read it to ya.” Toji rolls his shoulders from a long day out in the field. And you’re roaming your eyes over him appreciatively, all this extra manual labor had only made your husband more naturally swole.
He trudges up to where you were sprawled out serenely across your cute cottage couch, tucked safely away in a kingdom where nobody would find you. None of your furious, heirless ex-husband, or those nosy elders.
Well, almost nobody-
“Ijichi wrote to say he’ll be visiting this week.” You’re tittering over Toji’s dramatic groan, poking his beefy biceps whilst he lays across your lap, restful. “Oh, c’mon, our daughter loves him. Speaking of- you should get her from the garden, it’s getting dark.”
Waving an airy hand, though his heart swoops as it always did when he thought of you and his little daughter, his exact carbon copy - except for that one feature, of course. “Builds immunity.”
His little family.
Including-
“I hope…” Gently, oh-so-gently as if this was a dream on the verge of shattering, Toji lays his palm across your swollen tummy. Awe striking through him at the slight movement beneath your thoroughly stretched-out stomach- and your daughter chose that exact moment to barge inside, sprinting to cuddle right on top of him.
Looking at you, and you’re finally looking back. “-our son has your eyes, too.”
A/N. Daddy’s been listening to this song and going THROUGH it- Anyways, this was supposed to be PWP what HAPPENED?
stormborns
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