his cock throbbed inside of you, pulsing against your gummy walls while your legs were slung over his shoulders. satoru snapped his hips over and over again, basking in the sloppy sounds of your sexes connecting. you could barely talk, letting out deep breaths and soft moans. every thrust made you feel more and more stretched, your sensitive body was about to become overstimulated, coming off of multiple orgasms, you couldn’t keep up with satoru, yet you didn’t want to stop. not when he fucked you like he had something to prove to himself.
he leaned forward, pressed forward, kissing the crook of your neck, making sure to drag his teeth over your sensitive skin, leaving wet kisses everywhere—and the more the administered those pecks, the more you gushed.
“shit baby,” he muttered, “you feel so good—with me all deep in you like this.”
you would have never thought that the president of a frat could sound so meek—his body flinching every time your cunt twitched. his teeth dug into his bottom lip ever-so-slightly, making his voice sound broken. his cheeks were a flushed pink, and his hair was practically matted down to his forehead.
satoru couldn’t help but let out a string of moans, breathy and desperate. his eyes squeezed shut as you sucked him in further, making his strokes become messier and languid. the bed creaked with every motion and as he melted into your touch he began to lose himself even more.
you had been hooking up for some time, sure, but every single moment you caught him in this position he always turned into putty.
“oh fuck baby yes,” he whined, words starting to slur together. you felt how his tip kissed your cervix, nudging it with every jut of his hips. “i love you baby, fuuuck, i love it—love it so much.”
his tongue started to lol from his mouth, his thrusts becoming unpaced and feral. you could hardly keep up with him, as he quickly became lost in the way you were clamping down on him, your pussy drooling for his cock.
“say you love it baby—say you love me,” he sighed, eyes opening for a split moment to catch a glimpse of your fucked-out face. he smirked seeing you like that, breaking him out of his pussy-drunk daze, but as soon as he remembered how cushiony your insides felt and fell right back into his whiny state. he continued, voice cracking: “say it, please, please, please—fuck.”
“i love it, toru,” you sniffled, “love your fat fucking cock—love how it fucks me so good.”
your praise sent shivers up his spine, but it wasn’t enough as he let out a strangled whimper. “yeah? shit,”
“yeah, baby, i love you,” you continued, egging on his sporadic thrusts. his abs tied, head tilting back, pushing his thick dick into you as deep as he could, not wanting to leave the warm embrace of your cunt.
a loud groan escaped his wet lips, his body finally giving him, cum filling you up until he was practically dry. his dick throbbed inside you, and a large gap fled from both you and satoru.
“yeah i love you baby—love you so fuckin’ much,” he whispered, as if when morning came you wouldn’t be parting ways until fate would have you meet up at the next frat party.
You love being Satoru Gojo's girlfriend, he dotes on you, takes you on dates, spoils you - just one little problem, you are perpetually ovulating around him! Is wanting your nerdy boyfriend's cock in your mouth really such a bad thing? Satoru wants to wait for the perfect moment for your first time, though! He'll totally wait even when you're wearing that slutty lil dress and grinding on him, right?
pairings - nerd! gojo x girlfriend! reader
warnings - cute and silly, oral over panties/boxers, Satoru edging tf outta us -- reader is horny, Shoko/Hime, Sukuna being a fratboy dick, jealous Toru, rough blow jobs, p in v sex, first time, squirting, teasing, fingering, creampie, consent, breed kink, making your nerdy boyfriend feral and spit in your mouth <3
art creds here!!
this was a comm for my angel @cantarcantar!! ty for understanding that my life was like INSANE - ilysm for being patient <3 wc - 10.1k
It took you almost two years of crushing on Satoru Gojo to actually become his girlfriend, and you’re loving every minute of it. From being too damn shy to admit you like him, to very awkwardly trying to confess and every chance just utterly failing – to then instead becoming the very best of friends.
You two were finally ‘officially together’ as a couple.
Oh, and it was everything, being in his arms, swallowed up by those huge biceps he had hidden underneath his starch white dress shirts. Hearing that little laugh from his lips, all of those sweet little kisses he bestowed upon you – truly, all the feelings blossoming between the two of you in the most beautiful way, especially over the months of truly being his girlfriend.
He’d take you out for all day movie marathons, going to play bumper cars, mini golf, you name it – Satoru was down for it. Every date was a meticulously planned out one too, with little to no down time aside from the drive to and from. Perhaps that’s where you would sneak just the littlest pecks on his neck, hear his sighs as he gripped the gear shift of that fancy sports car.
Satoru adored you – and you adored him.
You were all his. There was no one else in the entire world than the boy who could never quite tie that tie on correctly, always just a little crooked for you to straighten out.
Yet with that came you being unreasonably horny all the fucking time, who wouldn’t be with Satoru though? Those long fingers pressing into your waist, the way that bulge pressed between your thighs, plump lips slipping up your throat. Every time it even got just a little close, maybe you were grinding so good that you were about to cum from that – he paused it.
Wearing a cute, bashful little smile on his face, fogged up, thick rimmed glasses – murmuring sweetheart in a voice that’s designed to make your pussy drip, and you feel like a complete pervert for wanting to beg for more. God, imagining his cock in your throat alone had you desperate and needy, let alone having him filling you, pumping you full, taking you first.
Maybe you are a pervert, truly.
You’ve tried so hard to be patient, you want him to want it as badly as you do, but every time you’re making out with your boyfriend – the top of the dean’s list and ultimate dungeon master for DnD – Satoru Gojo?
Every time his big ass hands grip your waist and he drags you down against his length, before he puts a pause on it?
You can’t even think about it.
You’re pumping your fingers in your needy cunt just thinking about it after every damn date with this boy. Whining out in your bed with your hips bucking up, gasps escaping your lips desperately in your empty room. Pumping faster and faster until you’ve got that sticky release all over your hand.
It’s almost as if you have this sort of ritual now, before you see your boyfriend and right after/.
Your rose toy is probably fucking tired of you.
As if you don’t you ache so damn bad around him it’s painful, hard not to shamelessly hump his thigh till you cum. No, the toy? This takes the edge off just a bit, but even the way you moan his name in your sleep is endlessly hilarious to your poor roommates that have to hear you between the walls of your off campus apartment.
“Still a virgin?” Utahime asked with a laugh when you had woken up this morning, getting ready to see Satoru.
“Not by choice,” you grumble, shaking your head and grabbing a coffee pod from the little rack, popping your favorite inside and pressing the on button. The aroma hits immediately, waking your tired brain.
You’d had the filthiest damn dream of him fucking your tits, cock sliding up and down in messy strokes that had you needing a damn shower right now.
You’re just perpetually ovulating.
Satoru is the perfect boyfriend, truly he is. He’s sweet, he’s a gentleman despite his blue eyes and where they glance too long. Mostly, he cares. You’ve fallen so in love with him so quickly over these past few months, but every time you think that things might progress, Satoru stops it. Gently lifting you up off his lap and sighing, kissing his way up your jaw, his snowy lashes tickling your cheek.
‘Sweetheart, let’s pause this,’ he would murmur those words all sweet and sultry against your skin after almost sucking on those nipples that just stay hard around this man, instead hovering a breath away so it ghosts your tits. Those huge hands brushing just underneath them.
It’s torture, really.
‘Oh, okay Toru,’ you’d whisper back, he’d moan and kiss up your neck, breaths tickling your skin. ‘Mnh…’
‘You’re so beautiful, god look at you.’
It was just wrong to talk to you like that!
“You poor baby. At least you have your toy collection,” Shoko teases, sneaking in and brushing your hair back. “Extensive, too.”
You flip her off, peeking at the phone then and seeing Satoru's name pop up.
Study session?
“Dick session?” She asks, you gasp, as if affronted at such a suggestion.
“I would never assume such a thing!”
You hope so.
*****
It’s not.
No, it’s not a dick session at all.
It really is an actual goddamn study session – both of you were sitting there in Satoru’s living room, his place was far fancier than anywhere, but that came from him being the Dean’s very son. It intimidated you a little at first, but now you’ve grown comfortable, as he made you feel so special.
Today though?
Well, you can’t focus on anything but how badly you’d love to kneel and suck your nerdy boyfriend, his thighs spread wide all slutty.
God his legs are long.
You bet his cock is-
“And this equation?” Satoru teasingly asks you, distracting you from your slutty freaking brain.
You're not even sure what stumbles out of your mouth for an answer, without saying how thick you think the circumference of his cock must be.
That is something you’ve done with your past experiences, and you know you’re good at it. You could easily deep throat a man and you wanted to see his cock so damn bad – could he be a challenge, though?
Your eyes drift down his chest, he peeks at you curiously.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks casually, spinning his pen between his fingers and studying you. “Hard question?”
“Um… yeah, a very hard time…”
Stop that! Stop looking at his dick print!
“The question is hard?”
“Uh… the question… yes.” You feel like a damn pervert every time you’re around him, can’t you chill and let things happen when they happen?
He sighs and stands up, stretching his arms up over his head, his abdomen revealed when his dress shirt rides up, showing those little v cuts that make your ovulating brain just a million times worse. It’s like you’re in heat. It's so pathetic right now – maybe you should avoid him till it stops.
“Let’s take a break then.”
“Yeah?”
He chuckles at how eager you are at the thought and comes up to you, leaning down with a hand on each arm of your chair, tilting his head so some of that soft white hair falls over his forehead. You brush a bit of it back and he kisses your palm, lips warm and sweet.
“You’ve been such a good girl, how can I not treat you a bit?” Your heart hammers in your chest, until those next words spill from his lips. “Boba?”
“What? Huh?” You blink as he eases back, pulling up his phone and leaning against the desk. “Boba??”
“Yeah, Boba, I’ll buy you some, I know you love it,” he smiles curiously as you bury your face in your hands. “No Boba? Matcha then?”
“I’m um…” About to cum if he touches you once even. “No, I guess Boba is fine. Thanks Toru.” you manage to say, thighs pressing together, Satoru frowns, kneeling now and gently taking your hands off your face, seeing your blush.
“Are you sick!? You’re all flushed!”
“I’m not-”
“You’re burning,” he touches your cheek in concern, and you almost fucking feel bad – you’re not sick, you’re ovulating. “Baby girl, let’s get you to a doctor right now!"
“No, no I feel fine, I’m not warm because of that,” you shift in your seat and whine out at just that friction. “Promise.”
He frowns and watches you carefully. “You’re hurting, it could be the start of something!”
“Well yeah I hurt,” you sigh as he spreads your thighs and kneels between them, shoving at him. “You’ll make it even worse down there.”
“I’ll make what worse, exactly? Your…” He trails off then, seeing your panties and blushing himself, pink dancing across his high cheekbones and dusting them in that rose. “Y-your… your panties are so… uh… s-soaked and…”
You should freak out at this proximity, at just how much he can finally see of you, but all you can do is whine again, as his eyes shoot back up to yours. “I’m okay, promise.”
“Am I neglecting my pretty girlfriend?” He asks softly, just a little nervous. Satoru has never touched anyone but you, but he’s extensively studied the female anatomy, and how to make you cum.
He just wanted your first time to be perfect.
That’s why he was waiting – the last thing he needed was for you to not enjoy your first time, though he knows you’re a little more experienced than he is – Satoru’s hardly kissed anyone before you. Not because he couldn’t – he just had no interest in that sort of thing until he met you – and even then, he really couldn’t find the damn courage to ask you out forever.
“No I’m being a damn pervert,” you cover your face and he chuckles at that.
“You’re being a what, now?”
You sink into the seat, mumbling. “You heard me.”
He’d been your best friend for so long, thinking there was no chance in the world – always jerking his cock with any article of clothing you’d leave in his room, like a filthy depraved pervert – and you think you were one perverted here?
Does him wanting the timing to be just right making you think that?
Satoru exhales softly, just a hint of what he wants to say slipping from his plump lips.
“What, do you touch your little pussy thinking of me?”
His voice has you lowering your hands, he spreads those thighs and slides up your skirt, making you moan out, head falling back, your hands gripping the arms of the chair even tighter.
“Wha-?” You can’t even finish your damn word.
“Asked you a question, baby.”
“God,” he’s diabolical without knowing – or maybe he does know. You’re trembling as you lean back, letting his thumb brush on your clit and gasping at the touch, already getting slick from a brush on your skin. “What question?”
“Not paying attention, tsk,” he clicks his tongue and his teeth nip your inner thigh, sinking in and making you whine out. “Do you touch her?”
“Y-yes,” he hums a bit, tugging your panties up until your lips are visible, that dark spot growing as slick starts pouring. “Please…”
“Be patient, baby,” he leans back now, smirking at you. “Show me?”
“Are you sure you…”
“Please? I wanna see so bad,” you blush now, you masturbate sure – but not in front of people! “I’ll show you?”
“Show me you um… jerking off?”
“Yeah, I mean… yeah?” You sigh a bit.
“Toru…”
“Mmm?”
“Why don’t I um… suck you?” He is bright red now, he’s almost busting just thinking of your mouth – that won’t do. His first blow job and he busts in one go!? No, Satoru has to jerk it three times before he gets the privilege of fucking your pretty little mouth, of feeling your pink tongue on him.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? But you’re so hard,” you giggle and tease him with your foot nudging his thigh, he glares and catches it, shoving it wide. “Not yet, then. So you just wanna see me touch myself?”
“God yes, dreamed of that since…” He trails off then, he doesn’t want to admit just how long he’s jerked off to you, because it was before you even knew who Satoru Gojo was. “Lemme see.”
“Okay…” you lean back, running your fingertips over your panties, slipping underneath and leaning your head back, eyes fluttering shut, hearing Satoru’s soft little whine. “Toru…”
“Fuck,” he thought he could handle this, but he’s utterly failing, he can’t even see your pretty pussy and he’s already throbbing, leaking so much pre it hurts, sticking to his brand new digimon boxers. “You’re s’pretty, sweetheart.”
You blush as you look at him with dazed eyes, running little circles right around your puffy clit, coated in hot slick as it dribbles out of your panties. He swipes some of it on his fingers, studying it carefully, his tongue going to lap at it, moaning as the sweetness coats his tongue.
“Oh you’re t-tasting me,” it makes you needier, until you have to plunge two fingers inside your messy, quivering hole, that loud squelch echoing in your ears. He’s gripping your thigh with one hand bruising until you cry out.
“Fuck, so s-sorry… baby I hurt… y-you…”
“No, no, like it,” he moans and puts his hand back on your thigh, squeezing again so hard it aches. He's jerking his cock faster, whining out when he sees your slick fingers pull out of your panties. You press your cum soaked fingers to his lips and he eagerly wraps them around, sucking them off. “Toru…”
“So sweet, my pretty girlfriend,” his glasses fog up when he leans down, licking your inner thigh that is trembling, sliding higher until his tongue is on you – but it's not on your skin, it's on the soaked cotton of your panties.
“Fuck…” he moans as he gets those juices that are spilling through the fabric, his and squeezing his own cock as your thighs sit over his shoulders.
“More, please,” you're tugging at his hair so hard it hurts, bucking up your hips for more. “I need you, please.”
“Such a needy girlfriend,” he murmurs, thumb circling his drooling tip, looking up at you with desperation in his pretty blue eyes. “You want me to lick it more for you?”
Your answer is a little nod, even having him lick you over your panties is more than you've ever had done, and fuck it feels good. Sinful as he trails a long, slow stripe over the fabric, the tip stopping right over your twitchy clit, his moan is muffled against the damp cotton.
“Toru!” He's lost in your scent, in that taste, the little hints of lace decorating your panties rough against his tongue, the sound is fucking filthy.
Satoru tugs those panties up more firmly, strings of gossamer saliva dripping and dissolving, peering up at you with flushed cheeks. “Like that, baby? Is this what you were thinking about instead of studying?”
Your only answer is to nod quickly, a jerky little motion as he sees those puffy lips just swallowing the damp material. He swipes his tongue over and over, the heat and wetness of his mouth making your entire body tremble. You feel it heating up, hearing the messy sounds of his own cock fucking his fist, wishing it were your throat instead.
"Oh god, Toru," you whimper out it so pathetically, your hands tangling in his soft white hair, fluffy and silky underneath your touch, trying to pull him closer, to shove his face where you need it. “Not enough, mnh!”
He chuckles against your puffy cunt, the vibration and the quick lave of his tongue have you on edge. Pulse racing as he had the audacity to tease you, landing a wet smack on your cunt that had you pathetic.
"Ah - ah," he clicks his tongue, catching your wrists in one of his stupidly large hands and pinning them against your waist, smirking at you in a way that's utterly not dirty at all. "No touching yet, sweetheart. I'm taking my time with you."
“Meanie,” he chuckles again, but you love it – feeling that strength as he grips you so tight. “My panties are ruined, Toru.”
“Mmm. Yes they are,” he tugs them again, looking at how wet the material is, just a pathetic little scrap of fabric with your juices pouring.
Instead of showing you mercy and moving them, he just presses them further against you again, tongue shoving that fabric until it's flush with your needy clit, you swear you can feel his tastebuds as that tongue drags through the fabric, pausing everywhere that has you jerking and honing in.
Like this nerdy boy is studying you.
Oh. He is.
He's methodical, almost clinical with his research of your needy, clothed cunt just separated by this pathetic little piece of fabric, his tongue pressing more firmly against your soppy lil hole. She is pulsing around nothing, torturous strokes, pressing his fingers up and down, you're hot and sticky underneath his touch.
“Toru!” Your wrists are still pinned, his cock forgotten even though it's dripping down onto the soft, plush rug below his knees. Satoru finds your clit again and looks up under snowy lashes, you watch the drips of slick connect with that wickedly long tongue.
“Mmm. I bet I could see myself inside you,” he whispers, you suck in a breath at that, as if he is measuring the distance of your entrance to your belly button, easing your wrists to tug up your top, nipping your puffy lips over the fabric. “Scientifically.”
“Then experiment, scientifically.” He chuckles like the little shit he is, finding your clit once more, a hand pressing where he imagines his cock would bulge out.
“You are so needy f'me, s'pretty like this,” his words slur as he wraps his plump lips around your twitchy clit, barely concealed and swollen underneath the cotton material that is dripping wet. He pulls it in his mouth and sucks it hard through your panties, humming against you.
You're aching, cunt filling his hungry mouth as your hands land back on his hair, his movements making you cry out and buck your hips against his mouth for more.
“So sweet right now, god, look at that…”
Satoru is so close to cumming when he grabs his cock at the base again, squeezing so goddamn hard – he could almost bet that if he felt your cunt without the fabric, he'd spurt his white ropes everywhere.
Make a mess of you.
“Mnh. You close, sweetheart?”
Your answer is a jerky little nod, as he keeps torturing you with this fucking barrier, his teeth grazing that tiny clit ever so lightly through the fabric, making you scream out, your head falling back. Your panties are absolutely ruined now, utterly transparent with your slick and his spit coating them, your sweet little cries rushing through his ears.
Satoru? Well, he laps at the mess he's making happily, his tongue coating the entire area in circles that deliberately avoid that spot until you're twitching, tears falling down your cheeks.
"Such a messy girl," he moans out those words, eyes black when they peek up at you, his voice husky as your slick clings to his lips. "Soaking these pretty little panties f’me.”
“Please, Toru… move ‘em please,” he smirks and decides to have mercy on you, tugging them to the side of one of your lips and exhaling, watching the slick drool and spill down. You gasp as the air hits your cunt, already aching and needy, the dampness making it a cool shock.
“Fuck, you're so pretty,” he murmurs, his cock just about to bust without his touch, he glides his tongue from your ass all the way to your clit, looking right up at you. “Is this what you were thinking of, hmm? My tongue inside you?”
“Your cock, too,” he chuckles against you, but just a couple more flicks has you close, as he spreads your cunt wide, studying your every expression.
“Look at that. My slutty little girlfriend.”
Satoru is trying his best to hold it together, but when his tongue glides into your gummy walls and they grip him, he's too far gone, slurping up every bit of the cum that just pours out. You shatter so damn pretty, squirting all over his face, dripping down his chin until it's glossy, his cock starts pulsing right with your hole, imagining her milking him.
“F-fuckk….”
“Toru, mnh! S'good I… please…” You’re overheated, body sensitive, it’s just not enough, even with his tongue lavishing every bit of your pussy.
Not enough.
“Please what, baby? Mnh,” he grips his veiny cock as he cums with his tongue on your clit, more of your mess drenching his throat, his face, his shirt. His white ropes coat his hand, lashes fluttering shut as he savors your jumping clit in his mouth, whining against you.
“Want your cock in my mouth, Toru please…” he exhales, breath making you jolt, looking up at you with a blush.
“I um…” he leans back on his knees and you see the mess, blushing at it.
“I didn't touch you though…”
“Didn't need to,” he's clearly a little embarrassed, you take his cum soaked hand then – dripping white – and wrap your mouth around one of his thick fingers. “Oh fuck…”
You suck him right off, tasting that salty white substance and moaning as it hits your taste buds. Satoru pulls back and laps it off his own fingers, before kissing you right with it, the mess spilling between your mouths and dripping down.
Satoru Gojo – your nerdy boyfriend with an insane Digimon collection was a fucking freak, greedily drinking his own cum off your mouth.
You’re trembling when the door knocks, and you faintly remember that he has ordered you boba. He’s the epitome of a perfect boyfriend after that, considerate, caring, cleaning the little rivulets of your own release from your inner thighs – you’re stuck back on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling him and watching a movie.
Satoru even has the audacity to snore after, heavy body wrapping as you ache to get filled by him – at least the movie was so damn boring you drift off right next to him.
****
“I’m gonna die a virgin,” you mumble to Shoko and Utahime the next weekend, aside from more heated kisses and grinding on Satoru’s thigh after your well planned out dates – nothing.
You’re aching.
How much use could your rose toy really see!? And now you even have two more toys going along with it, though you doubt any of them are getting close to Satoru and how good he must feel. No ‘clit sucker’ could come close to what that nerdy little mouth could do.
“You look like you’re dying, girl, damn…” Utahime earns your glare. “Is it that bad?”
“He finally got me off and…” You blush now, unable to finish your sentence, remembering his tongue drinking up your juices.
“Does he know what a clit is?”
“Very much so, it was so good.”
They look surprised.
“You all have no clue, he really was,” Shoko laughs at that, leaning back and hitting the vape, handing it over to you. “No, no.”
“You need a smoke, sweets,” you grimace, brushing your hair back, pacing back and forth as the two girls watch you, snuggling with each other. “You’re pacing holes in the carpet.”
“I can’t handle this, I just… god I wanna suck his dick, is it so terrible? He hasn’t even let me touch it. I sound like a horny ass man, I hate it. I wanna respect him, I really do.”
“You wanna respect him with his cock in your throat?” Shoko finishes.
“Yes. I mean!? I will respect him without the cock in my mouth! You two are menaces.”
They’re laughing like the brats they are, blowing smoke in each other’s mouths, you damn near moan in frustration. Satoru’s gotten you off that one time, then since then he has gone right back to worshipping you in the sweet way he always did, as if you’ll what – forget about his tongue?
His stupidly long fingers…
The cum on your tongue that you lapped right off!?
The taste.
“Ugh -” you lean back and sink further into the couch. “I really am gonna die.”
“Can’t die, we’ve got that party tonight,” Utahime teases, kissing Shoko’s lips and giggling just a bit, you pout at the two of them.
In public Satoru would kiss your hand at best.
Where on earth even had that freak come from that spit his cum in your mouth last week!? He’s all gone again – the pocket protector wearing Nerd Gojo in his place, like some twin fucking took over for a minute.
“I can’t go to a party and get drunk, I’ll make a fool of myself around him, one drink and my pussy has a mind of its own…” You finally sit down, plopping back into the seat. “I feel like a pervert.”
“You are! Let’s just call you fucking pervy Sage.”
“Hey!” You glare at Utahime, Shoko is inhaling another puff of smoke, you cough just a bit.
“Hah – Sanji from One-”
“Don’t even!? I’m not that bad,” you huff at her, frowning now. “I swear I'm not trying to be pervy. God, what is in this weed?”
“Hmm,” Shoko tugs Utahime on her lap. “I wonder if he's scared you'll like … bite his dick.”
“You're so fucking mean,” you cough a little more, eyes watering as you scowl at the two of them.
“Look slutty, like really slutty,” Shoko walks up now, tilting your chin up and crooking her lips up at the corner. “Something that screams – fuck me.”
“He licked my panties and didn’t even…”
“Really slutty,” Utahime agrees, tapping her chin. “Ooh! I know, I have the perfect outfit in mind, that little black dress of yours.”
“But it’s too small for me now! It’s from like high school, and thanks to you two cooking all the time, my hips-”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what? Oh…”
You trail off now, realizing what everyone knew – that Satoru loves your hips, he grabbed on to them every chance he got, even when he was just a little bit shy.
“Okay…”
They kiss again in front of you, laughing a bit, making you lovesick for your man – your nerdy man who you wish would kiss you in that way, tongues all dripping. It’s not even fair.
“All lovey dovey, fuck you both.”
They’re so hot and rude laughing at you – you decide to just disappear, you don’t need your hot ass best friends making out in front of you when you’re already in pain from the constant edging from Satoru. You are rushing to your room and trying on outfit after outfit, before finally deciding on the exact fucking one they brought up.
You would look as sexy as you could and hopefully get your boyfriend to not be able to resist you.
But also you’ll respect his decision, dammit! You can wait as long as he wants to, even if you were absolutely gonna put your tits and ass out there for him. Looking in the mirror and touching up your lipstick, swiping a finger across your lower lip to smudge it just a tad.
“Oh damn you look hot, Sanji,” Utahime says when you come out.
“I am not Sanji.”
“You are.”
“Fuck you both!”
*****
Satoru can’t keep his damn eyes off you.
Fuck you’re pretty tonight.
That damn little black dress clinging to your skin is fucking ruining Satoru’s mind, brain short circuiting as the two of you navigate the insanely packed frat house, one of his hands on the small of your back protectively. People are all bumping into everyone, stumbling around, absolutely no chance he lets someone hurt you by accident.
Moreso, Satoru Gojo can’t get his fucking hands off you, no, he can feel your warmth right through the thin layer of cotton material, fingers splaying across it. He reminds himself in his head over and over just what a horrible thing it would be to fucking take your first time at a frat party, even as he has to adjust his cock, turning from you to face the wall for a moment.
“Everything okay, Toru?” You ask softly, hand on his back, he laughs, a fake and terrible attempt at being normal, turning right back around to you.
“Me!? Yes, yes. Do you need a drink, babydoll?” He asks.
The music kicks on as he speaks, and all you can see are his plump lips forming words, ringing from how damn loud they’re blaring the worst dance music known to man. “What!!”
“A drink!!”
“Huh?”
“A DRINK-”
The music pauses for just a minute, switching to something else but leaving multiple people to stare at Nerdy Gojo shouting.
You blink a bit at his shouting, he swears he’ll kill Suguru and Nanami for having the audacity to fucking laugh at him and his pain. Them smoking weed earlier and trying to give him every tip known to man on how to bury said tip right against that surely cute little cervix.
As if Satoru hadn’t studied extensively.
“Yes, please,” you smile all pretty, letting him guide you through, he just about loses it from the sheer amount of eyes locked onto you, gripping you just a little too tight, feeling the curve of those breedable hips underneath his fingertips.
Imagine having them bent over, his hands fit so perfect-
No, he can make it another night, a dumb frat party was not the time or place for something so precious as your first time. Even if you smell that good, and you’re dancing all over him, giggling, your ass brushing right against where his cock has tented his dark jeans.
Your drink in one hand, the other in his as he pulls you against him, for a nerdy boy, Gojo can absolutely move his body. You feel so goddamn good against him, with your waist in his grip now, his lips pressed against your ear – he can inhale that sweet scent you just naturally fucking have.
That’s when he realizes he’s about to cum if your ass rubs up on his cock one more damn time with those heels making you tall enough, he could bend you over and slide it right in. God he bets you’re so wet too.
Satoru has to pull back, making you blink just a bit in confusion, he downs the rest of his drink, smiling apologetically.
“Bathroom, sweetheart.”
“Oh, um… okay, want me to-”
Satoru runs the fuck off.
Maybe you’re doing too much, shit… you were absolutely grinding all up on Satoru because you were craving him so bad. You needed to give him more time! If the roles were reversed, you know he would, even if he may want to as badly as you do. Going to pour yourself a shot, you throw it back and let your eyes shut, sighing just a bit as it burns your throat.
You need to ease up and let Satoru take his time, even if you have to press your thighs together to resist the needy urge of rubbing your cunt on anything right now.
Maybe you are fucking Sanji.
*****
Satoru’s leaned back on the door, unzipping his pants and seeing his reddened cockhead, and just how fucking swollen it is. He’s jerking his cock desperately, whimpering out as the door gets knocked on, banged on in fact by fucking Sukuna of all people.
“Gotta take a piss man, stop jerking it.”
“I’m not!? I’m pissing right now – w-wait,” Satoru is jerking it of course, but how dare Sukuna call him out on it. Dickhead fratboy that he is, he’s chuckling outside of the door, but none of it is getting rid of Satoru’s throbbing erection.
He’s just way too needy, too sensitive, he can see his reflection in the mirror – those flushed pink cheeks. Sukuna thankfully fucks off, but Satoru can't even cum with just his hand, not when he knows your little fist would feel so much better, when your mouth and pussy would grip him.
No, Satoru is left tortured.
*****
You are alone for some time, concerned if he was somehow drunk or sick when the leader of the frat – the slutty ass, pink haired jock named Sukuna comes up to you, sipping his cup and flickering his red eyes up and down your face.
“Hmm, Gojo left you all alone?”
“And?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him now, he smirks just a bit, leaning close. “He’s busy. Okay?”
“Mmm… yeah,” he peeks over his shoulder now, then looks right back down at you. “So.”
“So, what?”
He grins all big. “Wanna play beer pong?”
“Beer pong?”
“Mhm,” he tugs at a little lock of your hair. “Bet I stomp your ass at it. Look like such a good girl.”
“Hah you think I've never been to a party!?”
“Never seen you before aside from with your nerdy lover boy,” he pours you a drink now and inclines his head.
“I've partied, just… usually me and Toru are busy.”
He snorts at that.
So busy your boyfriend is jerking his cock in the bathroom.
“I see, so busy, huh?”
“Yes but…” you curse now, shaking your head. Satoru has been gone fifteen minutes and won't answer a text, a game of beer pong wouldn't hurt. “Fine then.”
It doesn’t take long until there is an entire gathering of people to watch you absolutely annihilate Ryomen Sukuna in beer pong, to the point he is fucking furious. You're landing the pong ball in every cup, decimating the entire frat at a certain point, giggling as you study them, down to the last shot, against Sukuna again.
“Beginners luck or some shit,” he’s fucking furious – you swear you see his vein ticking underneath his jaw.
Satoru is still not here.
You’re worried but you’re also enjoying the cheers, especially when you land that last one, giggling as the frat brothers who were talking all that shit about the nerdy girlfriend of Satoru moments before are now staring in disbelief. With one final, perfect arc, the ball splashes into the last cup.
It really is beginner's luck.
But.
Also, fuck Sukuna.
"Damn, girl!" someone yells, and you take a little bow, rubbing it right in Sukuna’s face now, who is slamming down the rest of his beer.
Surely he drank enough to get annihilated – but somehow still standing just normal, big ass man has some insane tolerance because those eyes look completely aware.
"Guess I'm not such a good girl after all, huh?" you tease Sukuna, who's standing there looking down at you, setting the cup down and crushing it.
“Hmmm,” his red eyes dilate just a bit as he steps closer to you, suddenly making you feel just a bit nervous.
Satoru hates Sukuna.
It’s well known, since high school the two of them have been overcompetitive and absolutely insane against each other. He’d be fucking furious if he saw you anywhere near him at all. You peek and see him across the crowd then, getting a text from Shoko blinging on your phone.
He’s really mad.
He is.
You get another text now from Utahime, biting down on your lower lip.
Make him jealous and maybe you’ll get dicked down, Sanji.
“I’m not Sanji,” Sukuna raises a brow, lips twitching. “I’m not.”
“Sanji? Who the fuck is that?”
“One piece?”
“Nerd – hey, wait,” you’re turning and he grabs your wrist for just a moment. “Shit, I mean… you’re right, you’re not a good girl, huh?”
“I sure beat your ass,” you say, pausing when he reaches out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they brush a stray piece of hair back from your face, rough knuckles brushing against your cheek for a second too long.
"You did, you're full of surprises, brat.”
“Brat? Whatever…”
You can feel Satoru’s eyes on you – you’d pull back, but part of you wonders if making him jealous would bring that freak out that spit cum in your mouth – maybe you are a brat. You sip your drink, remaining normal.
“I’m dating Satoru, you’re too close.”
“Would nerdy ass Satoru know what to do, how to handle your ass?” He taunts, your eyes narrow, his laugh echoing despite the music as your boyfriend starts shoving his way through. “Show you that digimon collection?”
“I’m very pleased, thank you.”
“You look like you need to get your attitude fucked right out of you,” your fingers itch to slap him now. “If he fucks up, you know where to find me.”
“No thank you, I- Toru!”
Satoru is between you and Sukuna, shoving him off and glaring right at him – perhaps the two tallest men at the party right face to face, Sukuna’s smirk making Satoru want to punch him.
“Why are you so close to my future wife?”
“Wife?” You blush and he glares at you.
“Yes, and baby momma – but you’re being a brat,” he whispers, Sukuna snorts at that.
“She is a brat.”
“You can’t call her that,” he shoves the big ass man and takes your hand now. “She has better shit to do than talk to you.”
“Aw, but we were having fun,” Satoru is dragging you away, you blink just a bit, almost scowling at Sukuna who blows you a kiss.
What a dick.
BUT.
Satoru is fuming, and he’s hot.
You’re so toxic!
“What’s wrong, Toru? I was just playing some beer pong,” you say all innocently, as he drags you past everyone, you’re struggling to keep up with his long strides. “Um… what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong!? Hah,” he’s laughing, psychotic and feral like you turned on a switch in his brain, when he finally starts getting some privacy. “Everything.”
“I don’t get it…”
“He was hitting on you,” Satoru yanks you away in the center of the party, you barely bite back your giggle at how excited you are to see him this way, looking ever so serious when he glares down at you.
Maybe you are evil, loving how mad he is, how jealous he is when he presses you against the hallway wall on the other side of the party, you can feel the music humming through the walls, but not as fast as your heart is racing looking up at your blue eyed boyfriend. Blue eyed angry boyfriend.
This isn't sweet Satoru at all, no – he's completely fucking unhinged, his chest rising and falling with his quickened breaths, cupping your face and jerking your chin to look up at him.
“You think he was?” You ask softly, making him raise a brow. “I thought he was just… being nice?”
You make him laugh without humor now, thumb brushing across your lip. “Are you being bratty, sweetheart? Teasing me, making me jealous?”
“What? No,” you straight up fucking lie to his face, batting your lashes all innocent and cute, but you can tell my that little smirk he doesn’t buy any of it for shit right now.
“No?”
“No, I was just talking, Toru. Isn't that fine?” You trail your hands up his chest, wrapping your fingers around to hook behind his neck, tugging him down to face you. “It’s fine for me to make friends, isn’t it?”
“Not when he's looking at these pretty tits,” he cups one, making you suck in a breath – your needy boyfriend is never this bold. “They're not his to look at.”
“Oh?” You lean forward now, tip toeing as he leans low, thumb brushing over a nipple, making it perk up for his touch. “Are they yours? Yours to look at?”
He’s losing it, his pulse hammering behind his ears, in his wrists, everywhere was hammering, his mouth practically salivating as he cups that tit right where anyone can see, big hand squishing it. You gasp out at the sensation, your lashes fluttering closed, little whines mingling against his lips.
“Yes, mine, every inch of you is mine,” Satoru shakes his head now with a soft laugh. “He thought he could dance with you. Kiss your lips? Lips that are mine.”
“All yours,” you open your eyes and giggle again, earning his scowl. “Sorry you're just so cute like this.”
Satoru blinks.
“Oh, I’m cute?”
You go to press a kiss when he snatches you up in one swoop, you gasp and wrap your arms around his neck now. Thighs trembling as he carries you to some room he finds, stumbling you in and shoving you right against the door.
“You think I'm cute,” he presses his cock against your slick heat, slutty little panties practically ruined for him, grinding his cock until you're gasping out. “Well I think that you're a brat.”
You gasp. “Me?”
Two people calling you that.
Well… maybe you are.
“You are bratty, with those pretty fucking lips,” he's kissing you filthy, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you both, easing you down so that you slide against his body achingly slow. “Maybe I should shut your bratty mouth up.”
Oh fuck.
“Yes please?” He glares at your big fucking grin.
“On your knees then, sweetheart,” you so eagerly obey, he laughs softly, his heart hammering in his chest, a mix of being utterly furious, nervous about his first time, and dumbstruck by the sight of your heart eyes. “Look at you, bein’ such a good girl – but are you really that desperate to suck me?”
“Please yes,” you have no shame – all you want is Satoru’s cock deep and buried in the back of your throat. “If you want though! C-consent.”
“As if I haven’t wanted this for years,” he shakes his head and tilts your chin up, sighing. “I wanted to do it all perfect, to lick and kiss every inch, worship your body until you were writhing, so fucking needy for it.”
Satoru unclicks his belt, the metallic click hitting your ears. “Mnh… years?”
"Years," he repeats softly, unbuttoning his jeans entirely too slow for you, you go to move your hands and he halts them with a little smack, you bite down on your lip, aching. “Hands on your thighs, you’ll listen to me for once, since you’ve been driving me so fucking crazy.”
“Me, making you crazy, really,” you do as he says though – eagerly – palms on your thighs, he laughs a bit, the sound of his zipper lowering echoing in the room even with the reverberating walls.
“You know every time you drag that messy cunt on me it ruins me, right?” He draws out that word, sighing now. "Every time you wore those little skirts and bent over, every time you'd bite your lip while concentrating…”
Satoru drags a thumb down your lip now, achingly slow against the plumpness that moves underneath it, your teeth nip on his thumb teasingly, and then you let him push your mouth open.
“Open real wide, sweetheart,” you do just that, and he can’t help but whimper as he presses down on your tongue, as if he’s studying the recesses of your open, eager mouth. “Wider, can’t you? For me?”
You listen eagerly, opening wide and fucking obscene, your tongue out for any bit of him he wants to give you, core just aching.
“Fuck, I've imagined this exact moment."
Satoru won’t tell you just how long he has, either, he swallows – just a bit nervous now.
“Suck,” you suck his digits, slurping them and moaning around them, imagining his cock instead, loving how dominant he’s being. “Stop.”
You obey, making him raise a brow.
“You like me tellin’ you what to do? Is that why you got me so fucking mad, so jealous, to have you listen?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, as he shoves his jeans down, and the hard, thick length of his bugle strains against the thin fabric of his boxers. “Pokemon? You traitor!”
“I can’t wait to shut your mouth up tonight,” you giggle at that, Satoru sighs and frowns at them, brushing your hair back a bit. “They were a gift, okay?”
“I’ll buy you digimon ones.”
“God, you’re so perfect,” you’re still giggling, when he gently smacks your face – the lightest little touch that has you almost moaning. “Open up again, yeah? Be a good girl, baby.”
“Mmm, yes,” you nod your head, doing just as he says – the side of freaky Satoru you only saw hints of last week when he’d lavished your panties with his long tongue.
“You got me jealous on purpose, yeah? Wore that slutty outfit to fucking ruin me, wanted cock in your throat that bad? Got me fucking leaking so much… fuck…”
Your answer is to keep that mouth open, leaning forward as you lap your tongue along the damp spot where his pre cum has already soaked through, right over a traitorous yellow pikachu. You’ll make more fun of that later, right now he’s jerking his hips, hissing at the drag of your cute lil tongue on him.
“Fuck…” You’re teasing him just like he did you – licking and sucking his tip over the damp cotton of his boxers. “Act so sweet and you’re evil, shouldn’t feel that good through that… mmm…”
Satoru’s letting you suck around his fat cockhead, slurping every bit of his white cum from it, tongue lolling right along that slit over and over.
“Torturing me back?”
“Yep,” you lick your lips, making him sigh, shaking his head now.
“Go on then, take what’s all yours…" his voice is low, hoarse damn near as he for the very first time pulls his cock out, letting it spring free, slapping against his lower abdomen with a loud, wet smack. “Can you fit all of it?”
You knew he’d be big.
You didn’t know he’d be that big, with his jeans undone all slutty, his pokemon boxers shoved down – his cock is perfect, just the right amount of thick and entirely too fucking long, with a prominent pale blue vein running along the underside. You’re literally drooling as he strokes it right in front of you, the head flushed a deep, pretty pink as it leaks white.
You’re soaked, fucking ruined.
“I can.”
You cannot.
Maybe?
You will try!
“Go on then, sweetheart, lemme see how good you can take all of me,” he chuckles as you lean forward without hesitation, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the tip. “Teasin’ me more?”
You lap your tongue up, keeping your hands right where he asked you too, sliding underneath so you hit that frenum. His sharp inhale is met with his huge hand tugging in your hair so hard it hurts, pulling at the hairs on the nape of your neck.
“Fuck… greedy lil mouth,” he’s damn near slurring his words when you swirl your little tongue around the head, lapping up the salty taste of his cock underneath, brushing along that vein. He whimpers out when you wrap your lips around it and suck. “Oh my… f-fuck…”
Satoru loses it the first time you really suck his cock, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, pushing you down further as his other hand rests on the doorway, beginning to move so that he’s choking you. You’re whining out, aching to touch your cunt so bad you slide your fingers down.
“So desperate,” he tuts his tongue, fucking your throat now, his cock slamming the back of it as tears spill. “B-baby, is this s’okay?”
You pull back as he does, with a wet, filthy pop, grinning. “I want it, all the way deep in my throat, Toru, I can take it.”
“You can take all of it in that tiny lil’ throat? When she’s this tight?” He whispers, your nod makes him glare now. “Have you done this?”
You blink a bit. “Yes?”
“Then I’ll fuck your throat so hard you’ll forget anything but me,” he takes you over now, slamming deep inside, you’re whimpering as one of his feet spread your thighs, and you’re soaking his black boot. “That’s it, rutting on my boot and taking cock like a little slut, hmm?”
“Mnhgh…” you’re done for, this is exactly what you needed, him railing your throat until you can’t think, until you’re gagging and tears are spilling.
“Look at me,” he orders softly, you do just that as he presses deep, sniffling as you try to take all of him, he hisses as he feels his tip stretching that tight throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. “You know I fucking love you? And respect you?”
You giggle around him and he glares.
“You have to know if I’m gonna say all this,” you pull back again, fingers all coated in your slick, gliding it along his sticky tip.
“I know you love me, Toru. I love you…” He sighs, touching your cheek. “I love you talking to me this way, you could be meaner.”
“Oh? Fuck my frustration on your throat?”
“Please?”
“You’re ruining me,” he mumbles, slamming right back inside, now that he knows you’re okay, he can lose control, see how much you can take, as you grind on that shoe, nails now pressing in the muscles of his thighs, jeans slipping down. “Want our first time to really be right against this door? Shove your slutty skirt up and ruin your cunt for fuckin’ anyone?”
God, Satoru’s sexy like this, fogged glasses and all.
Your answer is to take him all the way, your nose brushing against the white hair, the tufts of it tickling your nose, he’s stuttering now, unable to stop himself from fucking faster, harder, the wet sounds mixing with his whines. He doesn’t hold them back, either, every time he does he feels a fresh gush of wetness even over that leather, he can see it shimmering as he pulls back and slaps his cock on your mouth.
“Slutty girl, this all f’me, huh? Not that fucking loser downstairs?”
“All you.”
“Hold that tongue out,” you do just that, and Satoru slaps his tip on your tongue over and over, as you keep grinding on him. “Can’t believe you’re this much of a pretty little whore, god I thought you were a good girl?”
“Toru… please…”
“Please what?” You just keep rubbing. “Desperate, fuck… stand up.”
You can hardly do that when he helps you by tugging you up, spitting directly in your mouth, you swallow it greedily, earning his pathetic moan as he turns you, shoving you against that door. “Mnh!”
“Stop me before I fill all your fucking holes with cum,” he’s kissing down your neck, his glasses cool against your neck, whines escaping his lips as he shoves that slutty lil dress up the gentle curve of your hip. “All of them, I’ll have your cunt drippin’, your throat full, fuck that ass while I’m at it.”
“Mngh, please, please,” it’s all you can do but to arch.
“That needy?” He’s tugging your panties to the side, dragging his tip up and down over and over, moans escaping his lips when he bends down, turning your face to him. “First time in a frat house against a door? You’re so wet do I even need to finger you right now?”
“Already did,” you answered, he laughs, shaking his head and kissing you, rubbing even more, teasing your slit with the fat head of his cock until you’re weak, your thighs shaking. “Please, please….”
“Please what, fuck your cunt for the first time? That’s what you’ve been wanting, me to lose it, huh?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, teasing even more, mouth messy and mean as he bumps your clit, until you squirt right down his length, dripping all down the carpet.
Sukuna’s carpet – it’s his room you faintly notice, as you see the little pictures on the walls.
You wonder if Satoru meant that.
“Squirting already, haven’t even fucked you yet,” he pulls back and bends down, slamming his cock so deep you scream out, head falling back as he tugs your hair, making your ass arch out as he fills you. “Oh my g-god… baby…”
“Toru,” he lets you adjust to his thickness, the very first time your cunt has ever been filled – and this wasn’t how he wanted to do it.
He wanted to stretch you out – one finger, two, then three – but you’re so soaked you suck him right in. Such a tight, perfect fit he can hardly take it, bending down to press sweet kisses on your bare shoulders, easing back and shoving in again, taking your hand and placing it on your tummy, pressing so you feel it all.
“Feel me here?” He asks softly, desperately – worried for a moment with how tight you are that he’s hurt you, but your answer is to look back at him with those slutty, parted lips and dilated eyes, nodding. “Who’s inside you?”
“You, Toru.” you answer, cunt spasming as she’s already close, his body overtaking you, wrapping and tugging, shoving even deeper.
“Who’s first?”
“You.”
“Who’s gonna make this cunt stretch out?”
“Y-you and… ah!”
“Mine, mine… fuck you’re all mine,” Satoru gave you that minute to adjust, a last mercy before your nerdy boyfriend fucking loses his mind. “Mine, this pretty body, this perfect pussy… you… mine…”
“Yours,” you whisper it over and over as Satoru fucks your messy cunt, even though it’s hard to take, you’re so full it feels perfect, letting his hand wrap your throat, fingers pressing on either side of your windpipe. “Ah!”
“Hah – such a perfect fit, made f’me,” he’s fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, cock gliding in and out of your sticky, gummy walls, fucking you so goddamn messy it's dripping down between your thighs. “B-babyyy…”
You arch for more when he pulls out of your cunt with a filthy squelch and you whine from the loss. “Back in, please…”
He lifts and carries you to the bed, thighs shoved wide, feral now as he shoves back inside and sees himself moving inside you. Every slick glide smoothing your puffy cervix, until she is bruised and aching, that dress shoved higher, panties tugged firmly to the side. He uses both to move in you, laughing as you gasp out, as your thighs tremble.
“Aw, is it too much, sweetheart? Too deep?”
Feral Satoru is here, mixed with sweet Toru, but his cock is anything but sweet – the way it stretches you out, fucking ruins you, pummels your cunt so deep you’re about to cum all over his length, already sensitive.
“Mhm!”
“Full of me?”
“Nghhhh…”
You don't know how the fuck else to answer, it all is entirely too much, the way he can see his cock print, his insane laugh, those blue eyes glittering with the frames fallen off. So blue it hurts to look at, eyes almost threatening to close.
“Nuh-uh, eyes on me, that's it,” Satoru keeps pumping into your cunt, leaning up to shove your thighs against your tits, smushing them as he fucks you dumb.
He knows it too.
“Can't think?”
“mmm, nnnhhh,” your answer is pathetic and just a babble really, as your nerdy, once virgin boyfriend pummels your messy, needy cunt until she's stuffed so full it hurts. Your nails pressing into biceps, digging in as he stretches your puffy lips on it.
“Can’t even fucking talk – already?” Your eyes roll back in your skull as his cock ruins your pussy, so deep you do feel him all over.
“Gonna pump you so full, hah will you finish college without me breeding your cunt?” Satoru Gojo is batshit insane, as he leans over you, bending you so that you're folded in half under his heavy weight. “What would you do then, hmm? If I breed your slutty cunt? Make you mine.”
“Want it, mmm,” you’re utterly fucking shameless about it, feeling his bruising grip, his cock getting creamy at the base as his heavy balls slap.
“Jerked it in the bathroom, had me so hard,” you bite down on your lip, gasps escaping your throat, eyes locked. “You love that, huh? Driving me insane, slutty dress, pretty body… god…”
He presses your thighs down enough to tug your tits out, gripping them and exhaling, thumbs brushing your nipples until they’re peaks.
"Look at you," he pants, "taking my cock so well, pretty girl. You’re just such a good little slut for me, aren't you?"
You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white, your answer is to grip his hips with your thighs, letting him cup your face, pumping you so full that you can feel it all over. Warm and hot when he whines out so pathetically in your ringing ears, slutty little moans falling from your lips.
“Takin’ all of it, god…” He kisses you even as you shatter, your cunt spasming all around his veiny length, milking him for every drop. “So fucking greedy. So needy.”
He leans down and captures your lips, spurts of cum still pouring, you can feel him twitching, nails pressing into the strong muscles of his back. “Toru… l-love… toru y-you…”
“Cock drunk, sweetheart?” He teases, like the menace he really is – but he also lovingly caresses your cheek. “You took me like you were made for me.”
“I did?” You’re so damn drunk off him you’re slurring your words, pussy achingly empty, feeling his cum slipping out.
“You did a very good job. Such a good girl.”
“Yay!”
Satoru snorts at you, shaking his head and peppering kisses, leaned up on an arm, his shirt half open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. “You’re s’cute… I wanted to take it easy your first time.”
“I loved it,” you admit, yawning now, peeking around the room. “Mmm, can we go home though?”
“Of course we will,” he kisses down your body though, breath ghosting your thighs, spreading them to watch the filthy mess of his cum pour out, groaning. “You’re wasting it all, baby.”
“Hmm? Ah!” Satoru scoops some of that mess up against his fingertips, shoving it right back inside your quivering hole. You’re gripping him tight, thighs clamping down on his hand, as he smirks. “Toru you’re… crazy…”
“Mmm, you really have no idea what I have wanted to do,” he clicks his tongue, pushing that cum deep again, watching your every expression. “Gonna keep you so full of cum it’ll drip everywhere.”
Satoru does not just fuck you once, no – he makes sure to bend you over in the backseat of his car, fucking cum back inside. Once you're at his house he is pumping ropes of cum on your tits, laughing at how messy you get coated in white, before spreading it all over your body.
Satoru fingers and fucks all that cum inside until you're a trembling mess in his arms, passing out and snoring.
“So funny you started all this but then couldn't keep up, hmm?” He teases softly, cleaning you up, cock sore from how you gripped him, how much he came. But even the sight of milky drops escaping your hole had him damn near twitching back to life, groaning against your skin.
*****
“Good morning,” your nerdy boyfriend is littered in pretty kiss marks, indentions of your teeth all down his neck, a loopy smile on his face as he stands there shirtless, glasses firmly back on.
“Oh! Good morning…” you thought you'd be the one to ruin Satoru Gojo, ride his cock till he whimpered and cried from overstimulation.
You had no clue he'd fuck you so good you couldn't sit up right without his help, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss your lips, tilting your chin up and smirking. You're a mess.
A pretty mess.
Hair fucked up, covered in fingerprints and hickies, taking the coffee he brings and sipping it, sighing as it hits your tongue. “Mmm… good morning.”
“Don't you look pretty in my bed?” He muses, smirking on his features. “I wonder what Sukuna thought of his bed covered in your squirt.”
A blush heats up your cheeks. “I didn't squirt that much!?!?!”
“You really did,” you shove him playfully, giggling then. “My cum too though.”
“You did it on purpose, his room!”
“Me? Never.”
Satoru absolutely did.
That's what Sukuna gets for hitting on his girlfriend, dried up cum all on his blankets – as if he could handle you ❤️
heheh i hope ya'll liked horny reader for a change!!!
꒰melody꒱ asking boyfriend!choso to fuck your throat
mdni ꩜ smut, intimacy & aftercare. art by @/kanmi013
"I don't want to hurt you"
"You're not going to hurt me, Cho"
It was a little ridiculous to be debating right now, considering the position you were in – on your back, head slightly hanging off the edge of the mattress, and right in between your boyfriends thick thighs.
It's not like it was the first time you suggested something that made him red as a tomato. Actually, you would have thought we was used to it by now.
From above you, Choso's adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly, somewhere between hypnotised and worried. "What if you can't breathe?" he reasoned.
"I'll tap your leg if it's too much" you reassured.
Normally he was always happy to try whatever you suggested, but you could see why he was a little apprehensive about this one.
You could just about make out his handsome face in this awkward position, but once he started moving, you would be completely trapped under him... a thought you actually quite enjoyed.
Choso considered it for a moment longer, a hand lazily stroking his member just inches away from you – already suspiciously hard despite his hesitation.
It was like he was teasing you, having it so close but still so far. Was it so wrong to just want the love of your life to fuck your throat?!
"Ok…" Choso finally sighed reluctantly, but the way his cock twitched in his grasp was fooling no one. "Can you, um, open your mouth?"
You did.
"Fuck" Choso gasped immediately, throwing his head back in ecstasy despite not having even entered you yet.
You couldn't help a devilish smile, admiring how he bit his bottom lip above you with barely controlled lust. "Do you need a moment, Cho?" you teased.
"No! No" he quickly said, looking down at you again with a long exhale. "You look really good like that"
His dark eyes were locked on yours now, mesmerised. Despite how hard you wanted to tease him for getting so excited just looking at you, there was no denying he did the same to you.
Embarrassing, really. The way your thighs squeezed together at the sight of him alone.
"You look good too" you replied softly, feeling your own face grow hot.
"Yeah?" he smiled, beginning to stroke himself again. "You want me to fuck your throat?"
Fuck.
"Y–yeah" you swallowed hard, heart beginning to beat a little too fast inside your chest. "Please"
"Then be a good girl and open your mouth"
He didn't even have to ask you twice.
You willingly parted your lips, as drunk on him as he was drunk on you.
The minute Choso started to sink into your mouth your eyes began to water, hands coming to grab his thighs just to have something to hold on to.
It wasn't the most comfortable position to be taking him in, sure, but you were happy he agreed to try it. Even more so hearing the lewd sounds that were coming from his throat, like the sweetest melody.
"Just like that, baby" he groaned, sinking a little deeper. You so wished you could see what he looked like right now. "Doing so good for me"
You really wanted to please him, but you couldn't help the way you constricted around him as he reached deeper, exploring further than he ever had. "Still ok?" Choso asked, waiting for your struggled nod before continuing.
And then he really started moving. Shallow thrusts at first, in and out, in and out. Going deeper with each one, giving you time to adjust to his size.
"Taking me so fucking well" he panted. "Fuck, I can see it" his thumb slowly stroked the bulge on your neck, a tender caress despite how mean he moved now.
Deeper and deeper.
The heat between your legs was starting to get too much to ignore – your boyfriend driving you insane with nothing but his cock in your throat and his little groans and whimpers, as he fucked your face like he would your pussy.
Maybe you'd suggest filming it next time, just so you could admire his expressions.
Though you also enjoyed your imagination.
And as if just to empty all thoughts from your head, Choso pushed all the way in – you choked around him, struggling to accommodate him so deep, but when your boyfriend tried to move back and give you respite, your hands immediately brought his hips back towards you.
"Fuck– you feel so good" he gasped in surprise, mesmerised by how hard you tried for him, by how much you wanted this. "Hold it there for me baby, can you do that?"
You did – growing more and more used to the odd pressure, your face a mix of tears and spit, throat stretched beyond capacity.
"Ahhhh, such a good girl" he exhaled. "Can I–can I cum in your throat?" he asked a little shyly.
You tried your best to nod yes, despite not being able to move much.
Choso understood, moving his hips back again to shove himself back in, one more time, two times, and on the third – he sunk so deep you had no choice but swallow all he was giving you.
You loved it. Both the salty taste and how he moaned above you.
As soon as he was done, Choso removed himself, kneeling down next to your head. "Are you ok?" he asked hurriedly, wiping your face for you, using the towel he had left by the bed for this exact reason.
"Yes" you said, voice a little hoarse. "Did you enjoy it?" you smiled, while Choso brought two hands to your shoulders to help you sit up, treating you like you were precious.
"Yeah" he admitted with a blush on his cheeks. He passed you a glass of water, another precaution he had taken. "I…really did"
You took a slow sip, while his hands slowly rubbed your shoulders and neck, easing the tension you were just starting to feel from the odd position you had been in.
"Good" you leaned forward to kiss his nose then, just above his mark. "Sounded like you did" you teased, enjoying his little grimace.
He took the glass from you as you put your hands on the mattress to push yourself up, but before you could – Choso stopped you with two firm hands on your hips.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, positioning himself between your legs. "It's my turn to hear the sounds you make"
Toji Zen'in, who doesn't get down on one knee or has a ring hidden in his pocket waiting for the perfect moment.
Instead, he's lying on your bed with you, the sheets still tangled around your legs, his calloused fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip- gentler now than the bruising grip they'd held just moments ago.
Toji Zen'in, who's never planned a damn thing in his life, living by pure instinct and impulse. Whose love language is leaving bruised fingerprints on your skin and possessive bite marks. The same man who makes decisions in the spaces between heartbeats.
When he pulls you back against his chest you feel his chin rest atop your head. His breathing deep and even.
“Marry me.”
Toji Zen'in, whose “marry me” isn’t a question at all- just say two quiet, unguarded words slipping from his lips, like a confession he’s carried for far too long. The words falling so softly you almost miss them.
You turn in his embrace so that you can face him, the sheet sliding off your shoulder, and what you see makes your breath catch. He isn't smiling when your eyes meet- his expression stripped bare of its usual sharp edges and smirk.
Toji Zen'in, whose eyes tell stories of a man who's never had anything permanent, never wanted anything to last.
Until you.
Who traces your cheek with calloused fingers like you're something precious, something that could slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
Toji Zen'in doesn't smile nor whoops in triumph or pull you into a passionate kiss. He simply pulls you closer to him after you whisper "yes," tucking you under his chin where you've always fit perfectly.
Whose heartbeat is steady against your cheek- the rhythm of home, of belonging, of a man who has finally found his harbor after a lifetime at sea. No grand gestures needed, no flowery declarations.
This is all Toji Zen'in needed- his arms around you, his breath in your hair, and the absolute certainty that he has finally found something worth keeping... Worth staying with forever.
pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader (university au)
summary: sukuna has a notorious reputation on campus of being terrifying, but it's hard to be too scared of the guy when he shows up to your family’s failing bakery every day to buy strawberry shortbread.
when your life feels like its falling apart you discover just how sweet he can be.
word count: 5.7k
content: 18+ mdni, smut, university au, FLUFF, angst, humor, slow burn, idiots in love, miscommunication, parental illness, grief, toxic ex-bf, reference to past sexual coercion/assault, stress and overwork, introverted reader, panic attacks, anxiety, loss of a parent
a/n: sorry for making you all wait for so long, I hope you enjoy the final chapter of these babies
series masterlist | ao3 | previous chapter (ch16)
“Maybe I should just forget it.” Your voice was quivering as you stared down at the notes laid out before you. The words had started to jumble together on the page, creating an incomprehensible mess.
“Huh?”
Sukuna glanced over at you, red eyes alight with surprise. The two of you had been sitting in silence for the last few hours, completely absorbed in your own tasks. You’d been desperately trying to cram as much information as possible into your head before your upcoming exams, while Sukuna had been fixated on playing Disco Elysium.
Considering that you both had final exams in the coming days, your general demeanours couldn't be further apart.
Sukuna seemed genuinely unconcerned by any pressure, certain that he could study the night before and pass, seeing no merit in fretting the way that you currently were. Meanwhile, you’d reached the point where you were certain you’d already run out of time, and were ultimately doomed to failure.
Even though you’d diligently kept up with your studies during your time in Kyushu, you were certain that it hadn’t been enough. Missing out on smaller seminars and workshops by studying remotely was practically a death sentence in your area of study.
Might as well just give up now because you were fucked.
“I’m going to have to re-do the year anyway, why am I trying so hard to fail?”
Sukuna frowned, pausing his game and moving to linger next to the bed you were currently laying on. You were propped up on your elbows, lip quivering as you continued to look at your notes, afraid that if you glanced at Sukuna you’d instantly burst into tears.
He had that effect on you. If you were ever feeling low his comforting presence would always bring out the waterworks - sometimes it was annoying how ineffective you were at holding yourself together whenever he’d show you the smallest shred of concern.
“You’re like the smartest person I know,” Sukuna said softly, his form casting a shadow over you. “I don’t think you could fail if you tried.”
“You called me stupid the other day.” You could practically hear him roll his eyes.
“Yeah, because for someone so smart, you can be really dumb.” The bed creaked beneath his weight as he took a seat beside you, warmth radiating off his body. “Always coming up with silly ideas like how you’re gonna fail, when we both know that’s not happening.”
“It might-” you started, turning to finally look at him. Just as you’d expected, the sight of his concerned expression had you choking on your words, eyes instantly growing watery.
“Come here, baby.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest. You let the warmth of his hoodie encase you, tears finally spilling over once you were secure within his embrace.
“I’m gonna fail- I can’t- I’m just too far behind.”
“Baby, you’ve been studying for weeks now. When was the last time you took a break outside of grabbing a few hours of sleep?” He had a point, and it wasn’t like you could dismiss that with a lie when you’d literally been studying in his room - he could see plain as day that you’d barely been taking breaks.
If he knew how little sleep you’d been getting while he was off away in dreamland, he’d probably be even more frustrated with you.
“I don’t have time,” you mumbled into his hoodie.
“You’ve studied more than literally anyone I know. You have time.” Gently peeling you away from the safety of his hoodie, a hand came to rest below your chin, tilting your face up to make you look at him properly. “We’re gonna go get some fresh air.”
“It’s like 11pm already,” you mumbled.
“So? Doesn’t look like you were planning on sleeping any time soon anyway.” He stood up and tossed a coat in your direction. “Put that on, I don’t want you catching a cold.”
Knowing that he was probably right, and that it was pointless to oppose him whenever he set his mind to looking after you, you pulled the jacket on as asked. You found that your tears were already drying by the time you were appropriately togged up for the weather, giggling as Sukuna pushed a beanie onto your head.
“Perfect. Aren’t you just adorable?” He cooed, before flicking you softly in the forehead and ushering you out of his room.
The house was silent as the two of you headed out into the night. Choso was probably staying over at Yuki’s place, and Sukuna had mentioned that Toji had been seeing someone lately and was likely spending the night with her. It was a little strange to not hear the ambient noise of one of the two other boys milling around - you’d become accustomed to their presence over the last few weeks.
Not quite sure what Sukuna had in mind in terms of a destination, you let yourself be led along beside him, basking in the warmth of his hand tangled with yours. Even if his presence still had your heart pounding, you’d gotten to the point where being with him felt easy and comfortable, no longer anxious about what he might think of you.
Because you knew that he loved you.
He’d proved it over and over again.
You’d shown him all of your worst sides - he’d seen you at your most stressed, most anxious, most grief stricken - and he’d still stuck with you, rewarding you with that gentle affection that was reserved exclusively for his precious girlfriend.
“I think you’d like the game I’m playing right now,” he said, filling the comfortable silence as you wandered together, enjoying the night air. “Once exams are done you should play it. I’d find it funny to watch which choices you’d pick.”
You had to admit that your interest had been piqued by the game he was currently fixated on, but you’d been too focussed on your revision to really pay attention. “You’ll make fun of me though,” you said with a pout, recalling how hard he’d laughed when the two of you had played PEAK together.
A smile lit up his face, clearly recalling the same memory. “There’s no actual gameplay in this one, it's all just pointing and clicking. I really think you’d love it.” Sukuna went on to explain the outline of Disco Elysium and its overall appeal, only faltering when the two of you passed a 7/11.
The warmth pouring out through the automatic doors was inviting, and you felt your stomach growl. It was hard to recall the last time you’d actually eaten anything of substance. Both you and Sukuna had been so invested in your own tasks that the day had largely gone by without either of you noticing.
“We should probably grab something to eat, huh?” He suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. “You’re probably just grumpy because you’re hungry.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
You were, but there was no way you were going to admit to it when he had a big shit-eating grin on his face.
“Sure, baby. But let's give some food a go anyway.”
The two of you wandered into the inviting warmth, milling around until you picked something you wanted. You decided on tuna onigiri, while Sukuna grabbed himself a piece of fried chicken from the warm food section at the counter. He paid for both of you, despite your protests, clutching your hand as he led you back outside and over to a bench in the little park across the road.
The place was deserted. No one with any sense wanted to be out this late in weather this cold, and you found yourself pulling your jacket closer around you, grateful for your gloves as you pulled your hands from your pocket to unwrap your onigiri.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sukuna asked, his breath visible in the cold air.
“Of course.” You didn’t think you’d ever forget that evening in the bakery - the way that your heart had raced at the sight of him was etched in your mind forever. Well, that and just how grateful you’d been for his presence on one of the scariest nights of your life. He’d truly been your knight in shining armour that day.
“I think about it whenever I get fried chicken from a convenience store,” he said with a fond smile.
You tilted your head in question, not particularly connecting the dots. “Why?”
“Because the Family Mart chicken is what put everything in motion that day. If I hadn’t gone to the convenience store that evening I would’ve been on the train home by the time those guys stopped you in that alleyway. But because I’d gone to buy chicken, I was in the right place at the right time and then…” He gestured between the two of you, clearly trying to think of the right words. “And then all of this happened.”
You giggled. “So you’re saying that our whole relationship is thanks to famichiki?”
“At least somewhat.” He laughed. As he finished off his food, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to his side. The way that his body always seemed to stay warm no matter the circumstances was impressive, and you found yourself huddling close against him to try and heat yourself up. “I feel like your dad had something to do with it too.”
You hummed in agreement. There was no denying that your father had been playing cupid for a while. From the very first time that you and Sukuna had met, your father had been urging you forward with the concept of a relationship, keen for you to find happiness with someone who he perceived as being right for you.
And his judgement really couldn’t have been better.
His work in puppeteering your union really felt like some lovely final gift that he’d provided you, making sure that you were finally happy and safe before he left you behind.
Although, your dad definitely didn’t do all the work.
“I think your effort also had a lot to do with it,” you pointed out.
Considering that you’d literally run from Sukuna the first time he’d tried kissing you, you had to praise the man’s patience and tenacity. Most guys would’ve given up on a girl for far less than that. You didn’t consider yourself to be low maintenance and you’d leant on him a lot over the last few months.
And yet here he was, as loving as ever.
He shrugged. “You make me wanna try, so it didn’t really feel like effort.” Your heart skipped at the casual nature of his comment, a deep flush washing over your cheeks.
“Corny,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his shoulder to stop him from seeing how much you were blushing. He knew anyway, laughter rippling through him as he reached for your face, fingers brushing your lips gently as he tilted your chin up towards him.
“Only for you.”
Leaning down, his lips brushed yours tenderly. While he’d kissed you thousands of times, it somehow still always felt like the first - a moment of pure joy and excitement, the giddy feeling of being a girl with a crush who actually likes her back.
You still couldn’t believe that he was yours, that he wanted a future with you.
It felt silly to be stressing over exams that you’d most likely pass when you had the best thing that had ever happened to you sitting at your side. Through all the bad, you really needed to start appreciating what was good.
And Sukuna was very good.
Breaking the kiss, he peered down at you with those deep crimson eyes, the irises lit up in the yellow light of the streetlamp overhead. He looked beautiful, just as he always did.
“Feeling a bit better, baby?” He asked, and you offered him a hum of affirmation.
He’d been right - you really did need a break. You’d been so locked in on reading your notes that you’d almost forgotten that there was a whole world outside of your exams next week.
And no matter what happened, the Earth wasn’t going to stop spinning.
Somehow that came as a comfort.
“Good. Now, when we get home we’re going to bed, and I’m going to stay up to make sure you actually get some sleep,” Sukuna said sternly.
“Aw, we’re going straight to sleep?” You shot him a suggestive look, a sweet pout on your lips. It seemed to completely disarm his serious demeanour and he shook his head in disbelief, a grin playing on his lips.
“Okay, we can make out a little first.”
“Oh thank god.” You giggled, leaning your head on his shoulder, your heart feeling at ease.
Tomorrow you could get back to studying, and maybe you’d wake up the next morning feeling just as stressed out as ever. But that evening, snuggled up against the man that you loved, it really felt like everything was going to work out just fine.
—
Your exams came and went, giving way to a few very stressful weeks in which you flip-flopped between pretending you didn’t care about the result, and hyperventilating over the idea of having to re-do the year if you’d failed.
At some point Sukuna stopped trying to convince you that you’d passed, because despite all the logical arguments surrounding the fact that you’d worked hard, and had extenuating circumstances leading to more leniency on your grading anyway, everything always fell upon deaf ears.
So instead, he focussed all of his effort on distracting you, which was something he’d always been excellent at, proceeding in all the usual ways by making you watch various movies, taking you out to nice cafes, and spending hours tangled up together in his sheets. His efforts at distraction were also how you found yourself completely absorbed in Disco Elysium, spending days trying to solve the game’s mystery, all while Sukuna sat at your side, offering cryptic hints and advice.
You could understand how he’d been so preoccupied by the game when he should’ve been studying, and it did an excellent job of taking your mind off things for hours at a time.
Not that there was any point to all your worrying anyway, because when your final grade was shared at the start of march, just as the weather started to warm, you discovered that you’d passed with flying colours - just like Sukuna had said you would.
You really were dumb sometimes.
That gave way to plenty of celebration with your friends, followed by a few peaceful weeks leading up to graduation, in which you and Sukuna were free to relax together with no cloud hanging above your head.
At least, beyond the vague concern regarding what the hell you were supposed to do now that school had finished.
Sukuna was already mid-way through the interviewing process for a graduate scheme appropriate for people with engineering degrees. You were almost envious of how certain he seemed to be about his future, moving along with it mechanically like he’d always had a clear plan in mind.
Meanwhile, you had no idea what you were meant to do.
You weren’t sure you were interested in some grad scheme, especially not when all the literature related schemes seemed to dump you straight into some corporate marketing job that would no doubt suck your soul after the first year. You weren’t built for dealing with frustrating stakeholders and circling back - you just couldn’t imagine yourself feeling happy in an office setting.
But that left you adrift, because with a degree like yours, what other direction were you supposed to go?
After a year that had constantly put you under pressure and left you more stressed than you’d ever been, you really wanted to enjoy some time without the weight of big decisions looming in the distance, but this wasn’t one you could escape.
Even with all of Sukuna’s assurances that he could look after you for a while to give you a break, you knew that you didn’t want to be so dependent on him in that way.
You’d have to reach a conclusion soon.
But you tried to put your concerns aside as best as you could as graduation approached midway through March. Sukuna and all your friends seemed so happy and carefree, everyone’s spirits high in the temperate spring weather as they celebrated their final days as students.
You weren’t going to be the one to drag the vibes down just because you couldn’t figure out what you wanted out of life. It wasn’t like all your friends knew what they were going to do - they were simply living in the now and seeing where life took them.
After years at university you were owed a moment of peace before entering a new cycle of fretting, and that’s what you promised yourself that graduation was going to be.
The afternoon that you finally received your degree was lovely and warm, not unlike the day that you’d first met Sukuna nearly a year prior. You were wearing a green dress beneath your robes, more ecstatic than you could’ve imagined as you walked across the stage, receiving a handshake and your diploma, which felt so precious in your hands.
You hadn’t really expected to be there.
The last year, perhaps even the last few years, had felt like you were constantly trekking up a mountain with no summit, fighting just to take a single step. To some extent, you’d wondered if you’d ever come out of the other side after all the suffering that had been tossed your way.
But there you were - a graduate.
Despite it all, you’d made your way through.
When you’d imagined this moment in the years gone by, you’d imagined it to be a little different. You’d expected to look out into the crowd and see both your parents, eyes shiny with pride, infinitely happy with the accomplishments of their little girl. It hurt to look towards your mom and see a stranger sitting to the left of her, in the position where your father should’ve been.
He would’ve been so proud of you.
Perhaps bitter disappointment should’ve hung in your chest, and maybe under different circumstances a desperate feeling of grief might’ve overwhelmed you as you exited the stage. But as your eyes swept to the right of your mother, those sad feelings were drowned beneath the brightness of Sukuna’s smile.
He was there and he was alive.
The void that your father’s death left in your heart would never dissipate, the grief was something you’d carry with you for as long as you lived, but your heart would grow bigger around it.
There was still so much love for you to experience in your life, and even in your worst year, you found the best thing you ever could’ve imagined.
And you’d hold on to that happiness as fiercely as you knew your father had wanted you to.
“Congratulations sweetie!” Your mother exclaimed once you’d found her at the end of the ceremony, wrapping you up in a tight embrace. Sukuna was standing nearby, letting you have your family moment. The engineering graduation had already taken place the day before, so you were certain that his social battery was running low where sappy family matters were concerned.
There had been a surprisingly lovely heart to heart between him and Wasuke after he’d crossed the stage, and you could only assume that he wasn’t looking for a round two of that display.
“Oh you look so lovely, let me take a picture!” She fumbled about with her phone camera for a few moments while you waited awkwardly for her to figure it out. In the end, Sukuna had to step in and show her what to do, treating your mother with that same gentleness that he reserved for very few people. “Perfect! Get in the picture Sukuna, you should have one together.”
Sukuna’s cheeks were flushed a soft shade of pink as he approached you, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders and pulling you close. Your mother told you to smile for the picture, but she really didn’t need to - you were certain that you were already beaming.
Satisfied with her photo, your mother moved her attention to her phone, scrolling through the snaps she’d taken. Meanwhile, Sukuna took the opportunity to focus on you, drawing you into a more full hug. Your face was buried into his chest, breathing in the scent that had grown so familiar to you over the last few months.
“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered into your hair.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” you replied. You were certain that he was going to wave that statement off, go ahead and say that it was all down to you, but that simply wasn’t the truth of the matter. Without Sukuna you would’ve fallen apart - be it from the incidents with Hiromi or from the loss of your father.
He’d held you together at a time when you were right at the edge of falling apart, and you owed more to him than he’d ever understand.
“You’ll never have to do anything without me.” Your heart fluttered at his response, peering up at him and pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to meet him in a fleeting kiss. You were eager for more passion, to have him kiss you with the ferocity that he usually would, but you’d save that for a moment when your mother wasn’t watching you.
“So, still up to go out for steaks?” Your mother asked, offering the two of you a smile. “My treat. I understand if you want to go and hang out with your friends though! I won’t be offended.”
While a handful of your friends had graduated with Sukuna yesterday, most had walked the stage at the same time as you, which meant that they were also somewhere within the mess of people currently milling around on the university lawn. You imagined that most of them were probably engaged with their parents for the time being, just like you were.
The plan was to all meet up later anyway. Satoru and Suguru had just moved into a new apartment together and wanted to use graduation as an excuse to have everyone over, but until 8pm at least, you had no plans keeping you from grabbing steak with your mother.
You knew which place she wanted to go to - you hadn’t been there in years, not since your parents had gotten divorced. It had been your father’s favourite when you were young, a steakhouse strongly entwined with dozens of memories from your childhood.
The perfect place to go as a celebration for stepping into real adulthood.
“Yeah, I want to go!” You hesitated for a moment, playing with your next words in your head, wondering if it was right to voice them out loud when you were still uncertain of them. “We should stop by the bakery on the way, since it's nearby.”
Both your mother and Sukuna regarded you with surprise. It was a place that you’d avoided like the plague since your father’s death, visiting only a handful of times when your aunt had been doing a preliminary cleanout of the place. Since then the building had stood silent, waiting for you to make a decision on what to do with it.
“If…you’d like to.” Your mother was careful in her wording, clearly not sure what to make of it. Sukuna’s fingers interlaced with yours, giving your hand a soft squeeze in a silent show of support.
He’d caught onto your intentions quicker than your mother had.
“I just- I’ve been thinking about it. Thinking about what to do with it. But I don’t think I’ll really know until I go there. Today seems like as good a day as any.”
Smiling, your mom offered you a nod. “If that’s what you’d like. I’ll go and pull the car around, you kids wait here.”
Your mother scurried off through the crowd, and Sukuna gave you a tug on the hand, calling for your attention. You stared up at him through your lashes. “Sounds like you’ve maybe made a decision already?” He asked.
“Maybe.” You responded shyly, playing with his fingers. “I just want to be sure.”
—
Six months later you were standing in the centre of the bakery, staring up in dismay at the picture you’d hung up behind the counter. It was completely lopsided and, now you’d taken a step back, you could see that it wasn’t in the central position that you’d believed it to be when standing up close.
The gap of wall to the right of the image was far larger than the gap on the left, leaving the framed image noticeably asymmetrical, which meant you were going to have to start again and put yet another nail in the wall.
Perhaps you should’ve waited for Sukuna to get home from work like he’d suggested - hanging pictures really was a two person job, and for this one in particular it was important that you got the placement right.
It was a painting made by your father when you were young - a watercolour image depicting the outside of the very bakery that you were currently standing in. You’d found it when you and Sukuna had finally gotten around to clearing out the apartment above, recalling a fond memory of sitting across the road at your father’s side, painting away on your own little canvas while he rendered the masterpiece before you.
The image captured a moment in time, and you could hardly believe that it had been left to gather dust in some storage cupboard upstairs. Now that he was gone, you wanted to display it as a way of honoring his memory, and where better to put it than within the bakery itself?
Now that you were on the path to reopening the place with your own changes, it felt nice to have something displaying how it had looked before the bakery had fallen into your hands - almost like the soul that your father had curated was still there and shining on, even if he wasn’t there to tend to it himself.
Letting out a sigh, you walked back over to the picture and took it down, using the back of your hammer to pry the nail out from the wall. Just as you were grabbing the measuring tape to give a third attempt at aligning the image properly, the bell jingled above the door and you peered over your shoulder to see your boyfriend.
He looked as handsome as ever, with his pink hair a little tousled, his t-shirt sticking to him slightly thanks to the humidity which had stuck around into September. His red eyes were glimmering with interest as he observed the scene, and you were glad he hadn’t walked in two minutes earlier to witness how terrible a job you’d done of hanging the painting.
He definitely would’ve made fun of you.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey,” you said, throwing the measuring tape down and making a beeline for him, throwing your arms around his neck and pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. “Good day?”
“Pretty busy - glad it's the weekend.” he said with a sigh, his fingers instantly finding solace in your hair. He’d started his graduate scheme back in May, and while the money was good, the job was relatively demanding.
Relaxing into his hug, you placed a couple of gentle kisses on his neck, amused at the way that he was leaning some of his bodyweight on you in exhaustion. “I can cancel with Yuki and Choso tomorrow if you want? Satoru and Suguru will be there to help anyway so I don’t think they really need us.”
Sukuna scoffed. “No, it's fine. Satoru’s useless at moving boxes, he gets too distracted by things. I’ll have more energy tomorrow, I just need a good night’s sleep.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Always so worried about me,” he said, peering down at you with a smug smile. “So cute.”
“Well, I also don’t want to move boxes so I suppose I have an ulterior motive.” You confessed with a giggle. Considering that you’d been spending all of your time clearing out and renovating a space you weren’t keen to spend your weekends doing more of the same. But you did adore Yuki, and if Sukuna was still up for it, you’d still be going.
At least you could all hang out and have some pizza afterwards - that had been Choso’s promise to you in exchange for helping them move.
“How cunning.” He laughed, kissing you on the forehead before moving his attention to the bookshelves lining the left wall. “Oh, you got more books?” Detangling himself from you, he walked over to get a closer look, scanning the additions to your collection.
The bookshelves were one of the many features that you’d added to the bakery over the last few months. Rather than being a grab and go bakery, you were eager to rebrand it into more of a reading cafe, integrating your passion for literature into the space and giving patrons an opportunity to settle down with a book or magazine as they whiled away the hours with a coffee and pastry.
As such, you’d bought plenty of bookcases and magazine racks, and had spent the last few weeks filling them up as best you could.
You’d mostly done that with the help of your aunt, moving collections of yours and your father’s books down from the apartment upstairs, as well as scouring various second hand stores to buy books as cheaply as possible.
That project had been coming along well.
You’d also used much of your inheritance to replace some of the furniture in the bakery - the tables and chairs which had been scattered haphazardly in the space before weren’t the most comfortable or aesthetically appealing items, so you purchased some nicer furnishings which matched the vibe you were going for.
Despite the additions, the base that your father had created was still present, and you left the counter and wallpaper just as they’d always been. You didn’t want everything to disappear, you still wanted that familiarity of a place that you’d known your whole life. For that reason you were keeping the name too.
You were just going to market it a bit differently once you were ready to open.
“Oh, you put Ship of Theseus down here?” He asked, scanning along the spines of the newly added books.
“Yeah, I can put it back upstairs if you want though? I just figured since we’ve both already read it we might as well leave it for someone else to take a look at.”
“Yeah, it's fine. It just feels nostalgic. I think I was reading that the first time I met you.”
You smiled at the memory, recalling how you’d been nervously shuffling about behind the counter as Sukuna had taken a seat and brought out a book which you certainly weren’t expecting a guy like him to read.
God, you’d been so scared of him that day he’d first walked into the bakery.
Now here he was, comfortably milling about in your shared space, inspecting the tiny additions that you’d made to the bakery that afternoon. Later that evening the two of you would go up to your shared apartment and cook dinner together, before watching some trashy TV, making out, and falling asleep in each other’s arms.
The idea that you’d be here when you’d first met him a year and a half ago was unthinkable.
“Want help with the picture?” He asked, gesturing towards the counter.
“Please,” You said with a nod, stepping back and letting Sukuna get to work with the measuring tape, using the level to see how the picture would look on the wall and marking out the edges on the wallpaper with a pencil. He went about it in a far more surgical manner than you did.
It really was better to leave it to him.
Hammering a nail confidently into the wall, he turned to you for a moment. “Stand in the middle of the room for me, baby. You can let me know when it looks straight.” He lifted the framed painting onto the wall, adjusting it under your careful instruction until you were certain it looked right.
Coming over to join you and review the placement himself, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, gazing up at the painting hanging so nicely above the counter.
“Happy?”
You hummed, staring at it a little longer. The image always summoned a strange feeling in you - sorrow wasn’t quite the right word, for it was a warmer emotion than that - perhaps longing felt closer. It was nice to know that your father’s hands had crafted what hung in front of you, but it made you feel desperately sad all the same.
“You don’t think my dad would be mad at all the changes, do you?” You asked, sweeping a hand in the direction of the bookshelves.
It was a worry that had tugged at the edge of your mind for a while, one of the many fears that had held you back when making the decision as to whether you even wanted to keep the bakery. You knew you’d have to make changes, knew you’d turn it into a place for you, but it was hard wrestling with the idea that it would be a desecration of his memory.
Perhaps you should’ve kept it pristine, just like in the painting.
Your worries fled at the sound of Sukuna’s deep laugh, chuckling for a few moments before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Baby, you could tear this place down and I don’t think he’d be mad at you. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
Letting out a huff of breath, you conceded to that without argument, because who could ever deny your father’s desires on that front?
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” You whispered, leaning closer into Sukuna’s arm, basking in his familiar warmth.
And as you stared up at the painting, in the bakery that was all yours, with the man that you loved at your side, you could finally see for the first time that you were doing exactly what your father had always wanted.
You were happy.
a/n: after almost a full year of writing this fic we're finally at the end. I started writing this at one of the hardest times in my life and it did so much to help me heal, it'll always hold a special place in my heart even if writing it grew difficult for me towards the end when I'd moved on from the feelings that made me write this in the first place.
I've had so many lovely messages throughout writing this fic, and I've been so moved by how many people going through grief have mentioned finding comfort in this story. I'm glad that it can provide happiness to others in the way that it did for me when writing it.
I'll probably do some one shots about these two in the future, but for now all of my focus will be on my other ongoing fic crazy in love, and a couple of other sukuna projects that I'm working on in the background.
thank you so much for reading and sticking with me throughout this journey, I appreciate all of you <3
not in the sense that he is dumb, or unintelligent. far from it.
more in the…emotional sense.
he loved to piss people off. he loved to start arguments and he loved to win fist fights.
but pissing you off?
wouldn’t exactly be on his top ten recommended things to do.
he was is a dickhead that doesn’t think he words through and instead of admitting that…he makes things worse.
first, he didn’t acknowledge you…entirely just huffing and puffing when you only spoke to him when necessary.
fine.
it’s only been about a week of the unspoken but very outspoken beef between you two and knowing he had nothing to fix the mess and the hurtful words that he caused.
sukuna did what anyone would do.
he tried to spend more time with you of course!
so when the pre school was preparing for the annual aquarium trip…sukuna may or may not have filled out a form for you while he did his own.
and when you picked up junpei a few days later?
oh the daycare director (a step under yaga) was oh so greatful you offered to help when they were so short handed and most guardians were busy!
you couldn’t say no. not then.
not with her smiling at you so gratefully and your son beamed that you were able to get time off for the trip!
so you didn’t.
you smiled tightly patting your son’s back as the director jabbered on, even though your eyes for the first time in days, landed on sukuna with an icy glare.
so now here he was at the aquarium standing next to you in a very unusual and albeit uncomfortable silence while yuuji and junpei jumped up and down while waiting to get in line.
this was his chance! he could make amends right his wrongs, and maybe ask you on a date.
but his rejection came in a tall, handsome case of a 6’4 (idk his actual height ok sue me) dashing shiu as he walked behind megumi towards the pre schoolers.
“ah! mr fushiguro told me megumi’s uncle would be accompanying him today, you’re mister…?”
“shiu. kong shiu.”
“okay, great!”
the man stalked over to where you were, your face gaining a bright smile as he basically snugged you onto his side.
“hi pretty,” his eyes drifted further left, “sukuna.”
ah so he can remember names.
and in they went to the aquarium.
it was bad enough you didn’t speak to sukuna.
but it was worse that shiu was able to pull small huffs and laughs as you followed the bungle of kids through the big open space.
and it down right sinful that sukuna had to witness all of it. and he couldn’t even stop it since it wasn’t his place and the damn teacher kept him glued to her side.
as the past few days went he didn’t get to say much to you, just catching small glances here and there to your face, your pretty outfit and your glowing smile as you talked to your son.
he did however, get to hold your bag for a second when you bent down to help your son tie his shoe!
a win is a win okay…
going off into smaller groups junpei, yuuji and megumi jumped off to the large glass opening to watch the fish swim above them.
“wowww”
“mommy look!”
“i see baby,” you giggled eyes moving around sukuna on instinct as you looked for a particular man.
“where did he run off to?”
you pursued your lips finally meeting his intense red eyes as you sighed shaking your head, “i don’t know. third time he did this today.”
“heh, wel—”
“mommy! mommy!,” you son thankfully interrupted, “i want to go closer!”
you smiled at him, picking him up on your hip to the glass, “this better baby?”
“noooo,” he whined his hands grabbing up to the glass again, “you’re short.”
“hey!”
“i can help.”
two rough tatted hands grabbed junpei out your arms and pulled him up to his shoulders. the boys eyes grew wide as his mouth dropped open, in awe at the sting ray passing above him.
“so cool!”
you grasped your son’s leg as he started to flap in excitement, eyes meeting sukuna’s again as he gazed down at you almost softly.
“well…thank you again ryoumen.”
“for our family.”
is what he would’ve said. maybe what he really should have said.
but for one it was goofy and two shiu appeared again rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t missing in action away from his ‘nephew’ that was in his care.
but as expected your attention was a instantly captured again, just as yuuji and megumi were pulling at sukuna for a turn next.
“me! me!”
“nooo! me!”
“alright—alright geez squirt,” he grunted bending to grab them, “i got two shoulders y’know.”
damnit.
you did however notice how he stalled as he observed you turn away to listen to shiu’s excuse.
that’s how it was.
but god sukuna wanted to fix it. so he would need a small intervention with the name of yuuji and megumi—who reluctantly agreed to this—(nobara called him old and stinky so she’s out!)
first, he had to get rid of the that teacher.
whether she had a crush on him or really cause sukuna’s presence scared the staff enough to give the kids extra perks at the cut off areas…we will never know!
but he needed her to GO ASAP.
and he needed shiu distracted but not gone since that would steal your attention away from him.
that’s where the gremlins came in, megumi the usually quiet boy made a scene clobbering until he made enough noise his uncle sighed, pulling his attention away from you to the boy.
“i want ice cream!”
“you didn’t eat lunch yet.”
“okay i want to see the stinkray.”
“you just saw them when i was on the phone.”
“okay well,” the boy scrunched his face in immense concentration, finger itching his chin before he looked back at his uncle, “i have to shit.”
the sharp gasp that came from the other volunteers, and the sniffled snort from you was enough for shiu to grind his teeth together and sheepishly try to save the last of his…dignity?….sanity? maybe both honestly.
okay. step one COMPLETE!
though sukuna did owe the boy two new plushies and a six month load of dinosaur gummies, toji will kill him for, it was worth it.
now for yuuji, oh goodness…yuuji.
sukuna whipped around looking for the next short tuft of pink hair… he’s gone.
that wasn’t the plan.
“where’s yuuji?”
“yuuji?”, you whipped around counting the heads, “he was just right here.”
fucking great. the little shit was gone!
and now even thirty five minutes later and a few scattered volunteers and chaperones…yuuji was still missing.
“what the fuck?”, sukuna ran his head through his slick hair, breathing deeply as he looked at a display of fish again.
well the boy can swim, maybe he wanted a little dive? sukuna was supposed to take him to the pool two weeks ago.
this cannot be happening.
“ryoumen…”
what the fuck would jin say? a missing posters picture for his son plastered all over the city would truly make the man find another reason to call sukuna a fuckup.
his father? oh god, he might even take yuuji, send him to boarding school or collapse on the drive back from snatching him.
where could he have gone?
what can he do?
what if he—
“ryo..”, your calm voice broke through his thoughts.
your warm hands rubbing soothing circles on his back that had him melting in no time, as he spinned around to your concerned eyes.
“don’t worry…”, you sighed, “he probably just saw something cool and wondered off, yeah?”
“i don’t know. he could have been snatched..he is kinda cute.”
“don’t you remember you pay for our life360,” you giggled lightly, one hand still resting on his chest in familiarity as you fished out your phone.
“see”, you said turning the screen to him, “he’s still at the aquarium. i’m right here and here’s junpei, here’s you, here’s megumi…and toji’s is off.”
sukuna snorted watching the black bubble around toji’s name, “figures.”
“well,” your hand coming back and landing on his chest as you tapped your fingers, “he’s still here and we’re not leaving without him.”
you both paused for a moment, your soft hands sat still rubbing soft circles around his ribs, brining him back down to earth.
“i didn’t mean it, ahem— like that.”
“what?”, your eyebrows scrunched as you observed the now sheepish pink haired man scratch his neck.
“you’re not a family hopper or whatever the fuck. it was mean…”
“you were jealous…you mean.”
“something like that,” he tsked, straightening back to your face, “either way it was uncalled for. you and junpei are always welcome…yuuji loves you guys.”
“ah it’s yuuji and not you,” you tilted your head at him.
“me and yuuji are a package deal…”, his hand rested on your hip as his eyes drifted around your face, “won’t happen again.”
“better not, you fucker!”, you whispered as you smiled at a mom passing with her stroller, “i’m still mad at you so you still have to make it up to me.”
“i will—gosh, you’re all such a handful.”
“you love it!”
“not re—”
“what’s going on?”, a gruff male voice cut sukuna off as you whipped around to see shiu, megumi…
…
and yuuji!
“oh my gosh!, yuuji baby where were you?”, you screeched hugging the boy as you checked him for any injuries.
“ah i had to take a call so he came with us to the touching pond.”
“shiu.”
“mmm ya?”
“we thought he was missing.”
“oh damn,” the man muttered tapping at his phone, looking up briefly to your angry face, “he’s okay i should have communicated he followed us, thought he told you.”
sukuna came up behind you, face unreadable as he dropped a heavy hand on yuuji’s head and ruffled his hair.
“dont do that again.”
“oki!”
“or your dino collections gets it.”
the two boys gasped as they watched sukuna’s wicked grin, as he let go of yuuji’s head with a slight push and a scoff as he passed shiu.
“let’s go get some food. im done with this shit.”
“language ryoumen.”
he stopped just as the two boys passed him, shiu nearly dodging a woman passing while typing in his phone.
“you comin?”
you sighed at shiu, whose phone started ringing again, “i’ll make megumi tonight and let toji know, you should stay and deal with…”
your hand came up and gestured vaguely to his phone, “that.”
“listen im sorry, this was last minut—”
“you shouldn’t be saying sorry to me shiu,” you shook your head brushing megumi’s hair as he smiled up at you showing his drawing he made earlier.
“pretty gumi!”
you finally looked at sukuna, “okay let’s let the teacher know we found him, get junpei and let’s go.”
“yes maam.”
“is this the start of the apology?”
“what apology?”
you slapped his chest as the boys ran back to their class, “i’m joking—damn that hurt a little.”
“good.”
sukuna could only grin as he watched the teacher sigh in relief and your happy smile he’s got to see for the first time in days as you pulled your son from the line.
this one is a little longer to make up for my writing funk!! forgive me lovely ppl—i hope this suffices (˶>⩊<˶) & also sukuna is NAWT nonchalant about the things/ ppl he cares for i am not supporting agenda…
when your husband is supposed to be the calm, rational one, you don’t expect to find him standing at the foot of the bed with his cock in his hand, whining into the dark.
but that’s where satoru ends up. tank top pushed halfway up his ribs, belt hanging useless from one loop, pants around his knees. his fist works up and down the fat length of his cock in rough, punishing strokes, spit and precum smeared down to his balls. he’s staring at you the whole time—at the soft curve of your hip under the sheet, the flutter of your lashes against your cheek. pregnant. glowing. carrying his baby.
and he’s rutting into his hand like some desperate virgin.
the panties he stole from the laundry basket are bunched in his other hand, pressed to his face. he inhales like he’s drowning, shuddering so hard the flimsy fabric trembles against his nose. your musky scent has him sobbing out a noise that doesn’t sound him at all.
“fuck, baby—” it rips out of him, pitched way too high. “smell so good... oh fuck, i can’t—can’t stop.”
his cock is obscene. flushed dark, veins raised under the skin, the head slick enough to shine in the faint glow of the bedside lamp. precum drips in heavy strings down his balls, thick enough to coat his knuckles. every stroke drags more slick out of him, messy and loud—schlick, schlick, schlick.
he sucks at the fabric like it could feed him, panting between licks, nose buried deep so he could breathe you in while his tongue works. “god, i'd eat you out for days if i just—mnhm!—if i just had the chance...”
his hips snap forward into his own fist, cock smacking his stomach with each thrust. precum splatters onto his tank top, dripping onto the hardwoods in obscene drops.
disgusting. a husband rutting into his fist because he’s too scared to touch his pregnant wife.
but satoru can’t stop. he’s babbling now, words spilling fast and needy. “want it so bad–fuck, i’d worship you, i'd never stop—”
he chokes on a sob as his balls tighten up, cock jerking violently in his grip. the sound he makes is humiliating, a high and euphoric whine. his thighs shake.
cum spurts out in heavy ropes, hot and endless, painting his stomach, his abs, his fist, the floor. lewd, thick jets that won’t stop, spilling like his body is trying to empty years of frustration at once. it drips down the backs of his fingers, strings across his knuckles, sprays his shirt. he gasps, still pumping through it, cock still twitching violently.
“ah—mnhg—fuck, t-too much, i can’t...” his voice cracks, strangled, but his fist won’t let go. more cum leaks out, drooling down his cock, streaking his thighs. his knees buckle and he braces one hand on the nightstand, forehead dropping against the wood with a hollow thud.
when it’s finally over, when the spurts slow to tiny dribbles, he’s still shaking so hard he can barely breathe. his cock still twitches against his stomach, still half-hard like it doesn’t know how to stop.
and you’re still asleep, lips parted beautifully while he stands there.
[𝝑𝑒] :: calling true form!sukuna by a nickname for the first time :: tags. fluff, sfw.
“ryo,” it rolls off your tongue naturally. as if you’ve called him that thousands of times before. you don’t realise it until he suddenly stops in his tracks.
sukuna narrows his eyes. you turn your head and look up, oblivious to your slip-up. the sorcerer doesn’t utter a word and instead glares down at your short frame. he looks irritated, or more annoyed.
“oh,” you realise why only a few seconds after.
you bow your head at him and try to explain yourself in a hurry. normally, you’d address him with respect like everyone else does. ‘my lord’, ‘lord sukuna’, or even ‘master’.
you nearly fall to your knees. you don’t know how or what sukuna’s going to do now that you’ve dropped the honorifics on accident and called him by a nickname.
you hold your hands together, “my deepest apologi—“
“again,” sukuna demands in a rough voice.
you freeze for a second before tilting your head back. you catch a glimpse of his expression; he’s amused, intrigued and perhaps still a bit annoyed. he repeats, “call me that again.”
sukuna isn’t annoyed by the fact that you’ve called him by a nickname for the first time. he’s annoyed, because your sweet voice makes him feel stuff he’s sworn to never feel for a regular human.
that warm feeling in his chest. . . he hates it. yet he yearns for it. from you.
you hesitate for a second, unsure if the firm tone in sukuna’s voice was a bad sign or not. you decide to just comply and hope for the best, “. . . ryo.”
sukuna grits his teeth. you think he’s mad, but in reality, he’s trying to eliminate the feelings of love from within him. your voice calling him so affectionately—so intimately; it makes him feel that warmth in his chest.
no one’s dared to call him anything like that before. everyone’s formal with him. it’s a must. sukuna’s used to everyone acknowledging his superiority in the conversations he holds. it’s a given.
no one refers to him so casually. no one dares to.
you’re the first one to break that pattern. the first one to make sukuna’s cold heart tremble. if it were anyone else, they’d be his dinner by now. but it’s you so it’s. . . fine, he assumes. an exception.
silence falls in the hallway. luckily, not another soul is around to witness the king of curses struggling to contain his own ‘foolish’ emotions.
sukuna clicks his tongue and sighs before continuing to walk ahead of you.
you scurry after him—keeping your head low. you don’t wish to upset him any further. you feel like you overstepped a boundary just now.
the silence continues for a couple seconds, both of you deep in thought.
sukuna’s the one to end the quiet atmosphere. his voice is as deep and cold as ever, though there’s no denying the subtle softness that creeps in whenever he talks with you.
he takes a deep breath and sighs. he keeps walking and doesn’t spare you a glance, however his words say enough;
“from now on, that’s the only way you’ll address me until i say otherwise, understood?”
➴ childhood bsf trueform!sukuna x f!reader
[heian era canon adjacent au] - ongoing series
❝ the world is an unjust beast. it claws and tears until nothing remains but those cursed with the greatest gift of all; power. in another world, ryomen sukuna is the strongest sorcerer in history, capable of an evil no one can dream. but he was once a boy, and you were once a girl. now a devil with docked horns and an angel with tattered wings, you walk this world together, your curse to navigate side by side. ❞
➴ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. dark themes surrounding my interpretation of sukuna's upbringing and how it affects you both. graphic depictions of blood, gore, death, dismemberment, mutilation, and hunted animals. character death. themes surrounding poor mental health. poor coping mechanisms. arguments. best friends to lovers. toxic codependency. child abuse & neglect. self-hatred. attempted self-mutilation. bigotry & period-accurate misogyny. eventual smut after both characters are over 18. angst. hurt/no comfort. eventual hurt/comfort. tragic lovers with a happy ending. dddne.
➴ wc ; estimated 100k.
➴ a/n ; huge shoutout to the artist i commissioned for the gorgeous art for this series, zb relic! please do not repost :)
i'll be trying out some shorter chapters with this series so rather than long chapters like my previous series, i'm hoping to get out more frequent shorter chapters!
ao3 || wattpad || main masterlist
1 / there is a hell, believe i've seen it
2 / true friends
3 / diamonds aren't forever
4 / teardrops
5 / sleep with one eye open
6 / follow you
7 / run
8 / it never ends
9 / seen it all before
10 / and the snakes start to sing
11 / throne
12 / kingslayer
13 / there is a heaven, let's keep it a secret
fratjo never goes down… unless its you, of course ! (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝)
the first rule of being satoru gojo was simple: you never, ever went down on a girl.
“it’s undignified,” he declared, leaning back in the worn-out frat house armchair, one leg slung over the arm. a bottle of cheap beer dangled from his fingers. “like, biologically, it makes no sense. you’re putting your face in a swamp. a swamp.i have standards.”
his friends—a chorus of nodding, beer-addled bros—laughed and clinked bottles in agreement. “preach, man!”
“seriously,” gojo continued, warming to his theme, his white hair glowing under the shitty fluorescent light. “what’s in it for me? the view is mid. the taste is questionable. naaah. my talents are better utilized elsewhere.” he gestured vaguely with the bottle. “let them worship me. that’s the natural order. i’m a giver, sure, but that’s just… not in my repertoire. ever.”
he said it with such absolute, unshakeable conviction that it became gospel in the frat house. gojo doesn’t eat pussy. it was a known fact, like the sky being blue or his ego being planetary in size.
cut to three hours later.
the same satoru gojo is currently buried so deep between your thighs he might need a rescue team. the arrogant smirk is gone, replaced by a look of single-minded, desperate devotion. his glasses are discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.
“fuuuhhck,” he slurs, the word muffled against your skin as his tongue—that clever, wicked tongue he claimed was too good for this—lashes your clit in tight, frantic circles. “fuck, fuck, fuck… mmmh, so good…”
he’s not just doing it. he’s feasting. one large hand pins your hip to the mattress, the other is tangled in the sheets like he’s holding on for dear life. the wet, obscene sounds filling the room are coming from him as much as from you— slurps, groans, hungry hums that vibrate straight to your core. each flick of his tongue draws a new, breathy moan from him, a symphony of whines and low, possessive growls.
you card your fingers through his sweaty white hair, tugging gently. “t-thought you didn’t do this,” you gasp, arching into his mouth.
he pulls off just enough to growl, his lips and chin glistening. “shut up,” he breathes, pupils blown wide, looking utterly pussydrunk. a string of saliva connects his lower lip to your folds. “you taste like fucking heaven. ‘s different.” he nuzzles back in, inhaling deeply with a shuddering sigh. “god, you smell so good… mmph…” then he dives back in with a needy whimper, his nose pressing against you as he laps at your entrance, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst. every swallow is punctuated by a soft, satisfied groan from the back of his throat.
he’s lost all composure, all his cool, frat-boy posturing dissolved into a primal, whimpering mess. he moans into you, a continuous, low-pitched moans synced with the thrust of his tongue, his hips grinding uselessly against the mattress. when your legs start to shake around his head, he lets out a muffled, encouraging “yesssss, c’mon, baby, g-give it to me— n-need it s'bad—”
when you finally come, crying out his name, he doesn’t pull away. he rides out every pulse with his tongue, swallowing every drop, a deep, resonant sigh of pleasure vibrating against your oversensitive flesh until you’re pushing his head away, trembling and spent.
he collapses beside you, breathing raggedly, a dazed, blissed-out smile on his slick lips. he looks ruined, triumphant, and utterly, completely yours. he lets out a long, shaky exhale that’s almost a laugh.
“…okay,” he pants after a minute, turning to nuzzle your shoulder. he presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “maybe i do go down. but only for you.” he licks his lips, still tasting you, and lets out another soft, involuntary sigh. “and you better not tell anyone.”
"we'll see about that," you just smile, running a thumb over his swollen lower lip.
Fratjo breaks up with you and instantly regrets it — series
Part 2B: Replaced
The invitation sits unopened in Satoru’s backpack for a while.
He only notices it because he’s digging around for a missing assignment after practice and the pink-colored card slips free, landing on the floor of his dorm.
For a second he just stares at it. Then he remembers.
You had handed it to him almost three months ago outside the student center. When you were still together.
You’d looked nervous, a little excited.
“Will you come?” you’d asked, fidgeting with your fingers.
Satoru had been halfway through answering a text from a teammate. “Come to what?”
“My art showcase.” He remembers the way your face lit up when you started explaining it.
How the department had chosen student projects and everyone would have their own display section if they qualified.
At the time he’d barely listened, but now; he somehow remembers.
He’d kissed your forehead and promised he’d try. Then he’d forgotten about it almost immediately.
The memory makes his stomach twist because he never went.The guys wanted to celebrate a win and he forgot to text you.
What he hadn’t realized then, was there were two dates on the invitation. A voting stage, which had passed; and the winners event, which was tonight.
An annual exhibition, open to the public. After a quick search on the university website, he found a list of featured artists.
To his surprise your name was first on the list.
To Gojo, this was another great opportunity to get back into your life after you shunned him.
But his irritation quickly rises when he looks down the list and recognizes another name. “Choso Kamo.”
Maybe because he’s heard it too often lately. Every time someone mentions you recently, Choso’s name seems to follow.
He shoves the invitation back into his bag and by seven o’clock he’s standing outside the gallery.
He tells himself he’s only here because Suguru mentioned there would be free food and drinks. What a terrible lie.
——-
The building is crowded when he walks in. Students drift between exhibits; holding glasses of wine and tiny paper plates stacked with appetizers.
Soft music sets the quiet atmosphere, nothing like a fraternity party or a football game.
He almost leaves, but then he sees you… and everything else disappears.
You’re standing near the center of the room beside a display table; smiling at something a professor says.
You’re wearing the same expression you used to wear whenever you talked about something you loved.
The same expression he’d spent so much time ignoring.
For a moment he just watches. Then his eyes drift to the display behind you.
The breath leaves his lungs. The entire section belongs to you. Dozens of pieces carefully arranged across the wall. Some are landscapes. Others are portraits.
He didn’t know you were this talented. The realization causes a dull ache; not because you kept it from him, you tried to show him over and over.
He remembers you asking if he’d look through your portfolio. He remembers promising to look at it, and never getting around to it.
A group gathers around your display asking about your inspiration and advice. You begin explaining one of the photographs, a proud look on your face.
Satoru suddenly felt sick; because all those years you were talking to him about this exact stuff.
And most of the time he’d been checking football scores under the table.
The shame settles heavily in his chest. Then someone appears beside you.
Choso.
Satoru recognizes him immediately.
Tall. Dark-haired. The kind of guy who manages to look effortlessly cool without trying.
You glance at him and smile like there was more to be said.
Satoru hates how much that bothers him.
Choso leans down and whispers something only for you, and your laugh carries throughout the room.
And suddenly Satoru remembers every time you’d laughed like that with him.
Every late-night drive. Every movie marathon. Every stupid joke.
Back when making you happy had felt effortless, before he’d gotten comfortable. Before he assumed you’d always be there.
A professor approaches Choso’s display nearby.
Satoru follows a crowd without thinking. At first he only intends to glance at it.
Then he stops.
The entire section is incredible. Large paintings cover the walls. Sketches. Mixed media pieces.
Months of work displayed under bright gallery lights.
People keep stopping to compliment them. Choso accepts every compliment with an awkward smile but somehow redirects every compliment to you.
“Y/n actually helped me choose that one.”
“She stayed up until three helping me finish that display.”
“I almost scrapped this project, but she talked me out of it.”
Every comment feels like another knife.
Because Choso isn’t bragging. He isn’t trying to make Gojo jealous. He didn’t even realize he was there.
If anything, he seems genuinely grateful.
And Satoru remembers what it felt like when you used to support him like that.
You attended every game and made arrangements to come to away games. You learned the rules, listened to him complain after losses, celebrated wins like they were your own.
You built entire weekends around supporting him.
And he can’t remember attending a single thing that mattered to you.
Not one.
The realization follows him through the rest of the evening.
Everywhere he looks, there are reminders. Evidence of an entire world he’d never bothered to learn about.
Eventually he finds himself standing in front of one photograph longer than the others.
A nighttime campus scene.
Soft lights reflected across rain-soaked pavement.
Beautiful. Quiet. Lonely.
The title card beneath it catches his attention. The date listed underneath makes his stomach drop. He knows that date.
You took this photograph the night of one of his championship games. The same night you’d asked him to come with you afterward.
The same night he’d blown you off for a party.
You’d gone alone and taken this photo, creating something beautiful out of something painful.
For the first time all evening, Satoru leaves the gallery overwhelmed.
People continue filtering in through the entrance behind him.
Inside, through the glass windows, he can still see you surrounded by people who appreciate what you create.
And suddenly he understands something.
He’d spent months convincing himself that the breakup happened because football demanded too much of him.
Standing here now, none of those excuses survive.
The truth is much simpler; you had spent years showing him exactly who you were, inviting him into your world.
And every time he’d treated them like something he could look at later.
Now someone else knows your favorite projects. Someone else knows your dreams. Someone else gets to stand beside you on the nights that matter.
Satoru stays outside until the gallery closes.
He watches you leave through the front doors surrounded by friends, arms hooked with Choso. Your head leaning on him, accompanied by the widest grin possible.
And for the first time since the breakup, he doesn’t feel angry or jealous, just devastated.
sukuna is not happy about piercing your daughters ears :c
(reposted from mimuju! art by @/sgtbake_r on X)
"no. absolutely not. you're not touching her."
sukuna's voice is a low growl, his massive arms wrapped protectively around your toddler daughter in the piercing chair. the lady with the piercing gun pauses, eyes wide at the tattooed giant glaring daggers from his spot beside you.
she's tiny, maybe 2, all chubby cheeks and wild pink hair like her dad's, dressed in a frilly dress you picked out for her "big girl day," complete with little mary janes. you've been hyping it up for weeks—tiny sparkly studs, nothing crazy, just simple diamonds to match her eyes. but sukuna? he's been grumbling since you suggested it, muttering about "barbaric customs" and "ruining perfection."
"baby, it's just earrings," you say softly, squeezing his knee under the counter. "she'll look so cute! and it'll heal fast. millions of girls get this done."
he shoots you a look, all four eyes narrowing under those sharp black brows. "she's a baby. babies don't need holes poked in their heads. what if it gets infected? what if she hates it?" but he doesn't move, holding her steady on his lap, her little hands clutching his black shirt, babbling happily at the shiny gun like it's a toy.
the piercing lady smiles nervously, gun ready, trying to lighten the mood. "it'll be quick, sir. one little pop on each side. she's been great so far."
sukuna huffs, his breath ruffling your daughter's hair, but he nods once, jaw clenched so tight you see the muscle tick. "fine. make it painless or i'll make you regret it. i am unlike my wife, i have no mercy for mortals."
you bite back a laugh, watching him brace like he's facing a battlefield. the lady counts down—three, two, one—and pops the first stud through your daughter's earlobe. instant wail. a piercing cry that echoes in the small shop, her face scrunching up beet red, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks, little legs kicking wildly.
sukuna freezes, body going rigid, then twitches like he's been shot himself. "what the fuck was that?!" he snarls, his free hand slamming the counter hard enough to make the jewelry displays rattle, tattoos rippling across his skin like living shadows. all four eyes lock on the lady like he's about to curse her into oblivion right there. "do that again and you're fucking dead, you hear me?"
the poor woman stammers, the cheap piericng gun trembling in her hands, face paling. "i-it's normal! just the shock! she's fine, look—the second one's done already, see?" she pops the other ear quick as lightning, and your daughter's tiny fists flailing at the air, her cries turning into quiet hiccups.
you can't help it—you burst out giggling, hand over your mouth, tears in your eyes from laughing. "kuna, oh my god— she's fine! look, sparkles already! she's got her earrings, see how pretty?"
he ignores you completely, scooping her up fully into his massive arms, cradling her against his broad chest like she's made of glass. his glare stays pinned on the lady for a long beat, utterly murderous, promising vengeance, before it softens instantly on his girl.
"shh, shh, my little princess. daddy's got you. that mean lady's gone forever, i swear it." he rocks her gently side to side, his huge hand patting her back in slow circles, the other stroking her wild pink hair with surprising tenderness. her cries taper to sniffly hiccups, soothed by his deep rumble of a voice humming some ancient, gravelly lullaby from his cursed past, the kind only you know about.
you lean in, kissing his stubbled cheek, still chuckling softly. "she won't even remember this tomorrow. but you'll be telling the story for years, won't you, kuna?"
he grunts, still shooting one last glare over his shoulder at the lady as you pay and gather her things. "no more piercings. ever." but he presses a soft kiss to her tiny forehead, her sparkly new earrings catching the shop lights like stars, and you know he's already melting inside, utterly whipped for his perfect little girl.
“ mmh, miss, are you single? ” he slurred, cheeks flushed pink. you could practically smell the alcohol radiating from him as you unbutton his clothes.
“ no, i'm married. ” he pouts after hearing your words while you stand up and head to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.
“ i shouldn't be surprised that a beauty like you isn't single .. but it should've been me. ” you can practically hear the pout in his tone, but you pay no mind as you assist him to drink water because apparently— he's too drunk to do it all by himself, and you're afraid he might drown if you let him be.
“ you are my husband, silly. ” your lips curve into a smile. your fingers find their way to his cheeks, your thumb gently caressing his skin.
“ me? your husband? i'm your husband? ” the way his eyes lit up made you laugh. because it was always like this everytime, even when he was just nothing but your friend. he'd ramble about the things that he liked about you, and how his stress disappers when sees you (or so he says).
“ i'm one lucky bastard then. ” he grins wolfishly, arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck.
a/n: for all intents and purposes hinge dms will look like twt dms 🙂↕️ the next ch is so fun bc yes yes the rumours r true i downloaded hinge for this smau hehe :3 taglist will b tagged in reblogs bc of new tumblr settings or whatever 💤 make sure u have ur settings set to being tagged !!!
Content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even he’d admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor. [tw: MDNI, angst/fluff/smut, apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, slowburn, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance he’s afraid of your father, zuko’s a little shit, jealous!zuko, we’re already married in his head, found family trope(ish), zuko has daddy issues] wc: 7.5k
m.list | chapter four | chapter five | next chapter
You’ve been taking advantage of the Fire Lord. He remembered saying you could take one or two days off— it’s been four. He never thought he would see that from you.
Not that he cares.
By all means, use him. Watching you abandon your duties these last few days has been quite the treat.
Ryuko has asked about you. Not directly, but to other people. Zuko’s made sure to mention you around him, though. It was his own little way to point out your absence, while you’re out doing god knows what.
Zuko didn’t want to know at first.
Unfortunately, there’s only so much patience left once he’s done playing his role as the Fire Lord. He just couldn’t help himself.
To what, exactly? Well…
“Zuzu?”
He stills, immediately recognizing that nasally little voice. Not to mention there’s only one person that would call him by that name.
Azula. She practically goes on to nag him, after randomly catching him at some food stall at the night market.
“You dethroned me just so you could prance around town in a cape?”
Funny enough, she would’ve matched with her brother if she’d just worn her hood. It might be a little risky, but most people wouldn’t know what she looked like, anyway. She could get away with showing her face for the most part.
Despite the initial whiplash from running into his sister, who’s been missing for well over a decade and is still at the top of the nation’s Most Wanted list, he’s quick to defend himself.
“I’m not prancing around town,” he grimaces. “And what do you mean dethroned? You were never even crowned.”
“Yeah, because you interrupted my coronation!”
Their sudden quarrel catches the eyes of a few people walking by, along with the old vendor that was just trying to hand him his chicken skewers. Thankfully, everyone’s quick to mind their own in the Silk District. Fights were common enough— just keep walking and you’re sure to be safe once the brawl starts.
It’s as if they were children again, arguing over absolute nonsense. At first it was a dispute over her brief stint as the nation’s first Fire Lady. Now, they’re just throwing accusations at each other.
“Please don’t tell me you’re working in a brothel now,” Zuko grumbles, fully prepared to give her some money so she wouldn't have to be indebted to one.
“I am not!” she scoffs. “And what are you doing here?! Last I heard, you have nearly twice the amount of concubines Father had kept.”
His eyes widened. Now was not the time to ask what he was up to. It’s not like he can tell her he’s been trying to scope you out all night, so he’s left scrambling.
“Most of them were gifted to me,” he barely explains, more so stuck on where she heard that from. Azula made it sound like he hoarded them.
She continued to press him. “You never answered why you’re walking around town with a hooded cape.”
“I wanted some normalcy,” he throws his arms out, hoping that’d be enough for her.
Azula raises a brow. “So you go to the sex capital of the world?”
“I’m not here for the fucking brothels,” he suddenly snaps at her, but quickly collects himself as it only made him look guilty. “Sorry. I’m here for work. We’re in the middle of opening a rehabilitation facility.”
“Right,” she blandly says, crossing her arms and taking a moment to stare him down, lost on what else to say. At least she believes him. She would’ve continued to interrogate him, had she not.
Zuko just looks at her as well. Not meaning to participate in a staring competition as he tried to figure out what about her had changed. Something felt off.
Then her brows pinch together.
It’s the eyes.
She thinks she’s glaring at him right now, but they’ve softened. And there’s actually a trace of light behind her golden eyes, rather than the dull orbs demonically possessed individuals often have. The only feature she shared with their father was that sadistic look he’d get on his face whenever someone angered him, yet there was no trace of Ozai in all her visible annoyance.
All he sees is their mother.
“So, how’s father?” she asks casually, figuring she might as well ask about the old bastard since he’s here.
Zuko lets out a disappointed sigh, not bothering to hide how peeved the thought of their father made him. “He spends his days drawing flowers and demanding he be given dignity.”
She sighs as well, because he just sounds pathetic at this point. “You don’t give into his demands… right?”
“Oh, no, never,” he says with a reassuring tone. “He’s tolerable for the most part, but there’s periods where he needs more… help.”
His fathers fall from grace needs to be studied at this point. He will scream, cry, break his little board games that he hardly deserved to begin with, and demand new ones. Ozai drew a portrait of him once when he was 21. He was without a scar. It was touching, sort of. Really fucking odd, though. He didn’t exactly listen to his father when he explained the sentiment behind it, but he understood why there would be one.
Zuko hung around until the servant brought his father dinner that night. Guess what happened when he didn’t allow the servant to give his father a slice of cake with his dinner?
His father took the portrait down and drew a scar on both his eyes.
The concept of self-regulation was completely foreign to his father—antagonizing him may as well have been a form of psychological warfare. Which is why Zuko started eating that same slice of cake as he watched his father have the meltdown of a century.
“Yeah, Father is… Father.”
There was no need to elaborate, Azula completely understood what he meant by that. “Do they still whip prisoners?”
Zuko pauses and looks at her as if she’s gone mad. “No….. that’s illegal.”
She shrugs. “Some people only respond to physical discipline.”
He hums tentatively, “Father usually behaves after a day or two of being put on a liquid diet.”
She finds herself coughing out a laugh, surprised he’d even do such a thing. She remembers the day Zuko visited her and Ozai in prison. He could’ve easily tortured the information he needed out of them, but instead he walked in with a tray of tea as he spoke of wanting to treat them with dignity— he used that word less than a handful of times, but his father continues to cling to it for his life.
She couldn’t wrap her head around how someone could be so gullible, it disgusted her.
Even when he cut her a deal, allowing her to walk freely as they looked for their mother, he disgusted her. He was weak for offering her tea, weak for allowing her to accompany him unrestrained, weak for letting her attack him during the trip. She was his tormentor and still, he forgave her, over and over again.
She wonders if she’ll ever grow the strength to thank him for being the only one to show her forgiveness.
“And mother?” she asks, struggling to hide her cautious tone.
“She’s good. Still in Hira’a.” Zuko pauses, eyes filled with both relief and a little sorrow. He has a good bond with his mother and had always believed Azula deserved the same. He’d love nothing more than to reunite the two. “She never fails to bring you up whenever I see her.”
How sweet.
And mildly triggering, given all the years she spent missing a woman who had forgotten her. She quickly catches herself from slipping into her thoughts any further—there was no need to punish herself like that, she had already suffered enough.
It’s been over ten years since they’ve seen each other, and she still wasn’t ready. But, even in all her resentment, she still found herself wishing she could tell that she often thought of her, too.
Rather than giving him a definitive no, she just rolled her eyes.
Perhaps she has grown softer throughout the years. The last time she randomly appeared, she promised to make it her life’s mission to drive her brother to the brink of insanity in hopes to make him more like their father. Granted, she was fucking losing it at that time, having unresolved trauma and what not. Being locked in a cage like a fucking animal only made her worse. The final blow was when she was released to help find their mother, only to find out she chose to have the memory of them completely wiped.
Oh, that fucked her up.
Azula refused to admit it at the time, but she’s closer to admitting it now after years of solitude. A changed woman, she was. Zuko should consider himself lucky to get away with just an argument today. Had their reunion been a few years sooner, that argument would’ve ended with the entire market burning down in flames.
But, she was his little sister at the end of the day, and there’s no doubt she'd still be annoyed at the sight of him again the next time they inevitably run into each other.
Azula closes her eyes and sighs, then lightly nods her head, “Well, I’m off. It was nice seeing you, Zuzu.”
It didn’t sound like it. “Wh— hold on, where are you going?”
“A temple,” she vaguely says, not stupid enough to tell him exactly which one. Zuko probably would’ve let her be, but one couldn’t be too safe. “Have fun in the brothels!”
“I already told you I wasn’t here for the brothels— Azula, wait,” he calls after her, more confused than anything. “Do you need money or anything?”
His sister stops to consider it. She may have some at the moment, but prior to passing by, she was pretty low on silver. The only reason why she came here was to pick-pocket a few people.
And by pick pocket, she means breaking into the homes of local lords and raiding their safes. Easy money. Can’t feel too bad about it either since they’re notoriously known for their corruption at a local level. She may be a criminal, but she was ethical.
“How much?” she asks, reluctant to jump right into accepting it.
He casually reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pouch of gold coins, lazily sifting through them before realizing he never had a number in his head.
“Wow look at the Fire Lord giving a fugitive money,” she murmurs, earning herself a disappointed look from Zuko. “What?”
“Don’t say that.”
She shrugs. “It’s the truth.”
“Just take the fucking pouch,” he sighs, shoving the bag into her hands. “And please make it last.”
“Aww, are you saying that because you don’t know when you’ll see me next? Are you gonna be sad after this?” she continues to poke at him.
Suddenly, he feels a headache starting to blossom against the right side of his skull. “I don’t think I will,” he blandly says, rubbing his temple as she begins to laugh at him. “Will you do me a favor though since I gave you money?”
The question wipes the smile off her face, she hates being indebted to others.
“The next time I see you, I want it to be with Mother.” She opens her mouth, probably to say something along the lines of not telling her what to do, but he doesn’t give her a chance to say it. “It can be five years from now or even twenty. Just go to mom whenever you’re ready and I’ll meet you two there.”
She blinks. “Wait, does that mean I’m not an enemy of the state anymore?”
“Oh no, you still are,” he lets out a laugh. “But if you have an emergency and really, really need help, send a letter to Mom.”
She doesn’t say much at first. She was actually moved for once and it showed.
“Thank you,” she says with a barely contained smile.
It was natural for him to give her a weird look, it was the first time she’s ever expressed genuine appreciation. Not quite grasping how much weight those two words held. Maybe she’ll tell him one day, but for now, it wasn’t her problem.
“You can thank me by going to mom’s one day.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Azula doesn't sound very serious when she turns to leave, but she really was and already had a date in mind. It would be sooner than five years, but enough to work on those flashbacks.
He watches her run off, scoffing out a laugh once she disappears into the crowd of people, leaving as fast as she appeared.
Alone, again.
Well, he’s not alone. He has his uncle.
It’s time like this when he really remembers just how different his life has turned out. It wasn’t bad. Bittersweet, yes. But not bad. After years of being subjected to his Father’s cruelty and abuse, everyone’s moved on with their own lives
Even Azula.
Then it dawned on him that he had just committed treason. He wasn’t supposed to let a criminal like her continue to roam the earth without consequence. Yet he did. He gave her money, too— way too much of it. Had one of the imperial guards caught her, she would’ve been behind bars, just like their father.
But at that moment, he wasn’t the one who held the throne. He was simply someone’s brother. Their father may have played favorites, but he recognized long ago that he has scarred them both and that she, too, deserved freedom.
—
Running around with Cyra has made you realize just how much you missed the crude humor and self-indulgent ways of the Silk District.
Those who served the imperial court were the complete opposite. So proper and uptight. The amount of self-importance some had without contributing anything remarkable to the world was exhausting. You don’t think you would’ve lasted as long as you have had it not been for who you served.
Although, he’s been a little too lenient with you during this trip. He hasn’t told you to come back to work once, which is why you’ve consistently gotten back to the hotel as late as 2:00 AM. You very well may be pushing your luck, but he never set a curfew for you and neither has Chamberlain.
You were a bit nervous to see the Lord’s reaction after your first night. Being met with nothing but indifference only made it worse, making you question what his true intentions were. The worries lingered in the back of your mind until a couple nights later.
There was nothing more anti-climatic than catching a glimpse of a cloaked man from the corner of your eye.
Wearing a cloak here wasn’t an unusual sight, citizens covered themselves for all different reasons. Some, such as yourself in the past, did it purely for the look. Some did it to conceal their identities. It was the latter for the Fire Lord, who was apparently spying on you.
Zuko rules over an entire nation, yet has the ability to shrink his presence down to that of a disregarded and overlooked vagrant. He's quiet when he wants to be, taking up such little space he may as well vanish into thin air. It’s quite the talent, allowing him to slip away into normalcy for an hour or two whenever the grandiosity of the palace became too much.
Unfortunately for Zuko, you can spot him in a crowd. Easily.
Maybe it’s from all the time you’ve spent with him—hours spent locked away in an office, days spent traveling, weeks spent visiting in foreign lands.
Or maybe it’s something more. The possibility was not a thought you liked to entertain. It’s not because the thought itself wasn’t ridiculous—it absolutely was ridiculous. It’s as if the God’s decided to make a mockery out of your life when they had decided on your reality.
You can just imagine them all brainstorming your fate in some heavenly council room.
“Let’s give her someone she can’t have,” one says. “Perhaps Azulon’s second grandson?”
“I love it. Put her in the least liked clan,” says another. “The boy will bring an era of peace and let their union create unrest within the other clans.”
“Brilliant. Make their connection devastatingly magnetic, as well,” the God of Misfortune excitedly says, followed by the room erupting in evil laughter.
And devastating it was.
Zuko was well over a hundred feet away, just another body swallowed by a sea of people. Many walked past him, some even stared in his direction as their minds drifted off, but no one truly noticed. He was insignificant. Invisible.
The gods continued to laugh, because you had noticed him, anyway.
It was beyond just the odd, occasional pull. It was as if you were connected by a stubborn invisible string that enjoyed tugging at you, constantly reminding you of the person at the end of it.
You disappeared shortly after noticing him, but quickly decided to have a little fun. You had brought Cyra along—weaving in and out of shops and alleyways.
“You’re going to drive him mad,” she had said.
“He already is,” you giggled at the thought of him losing sight of you once more.
“I’m sure he just wanted to see if you were okay. You look like you’ve forgotten all about your duties! He’s doing no less than a hired guard would. It’s quite flattering, actually.”
“He is a lunatic that’s doing it for free.”
Cyra was more perceptive than that, but kept her own conclusions to herself, knowing the troubles it’d bring. It was a matter you chose to be blind to, and she believed you were better for it.
That was last night.
Tonight, a local lord was throwing a banquet in honor of the Fire Lord’s visit.
Back being the most important man in the room, he went. He’d be lying if he said he’d been looking forward to attending, but at least this one wasn’t as formal compared to most of the banquet’s he’s attended in the past.
Zuko tried to enjoy it. He drank with those that wanted to share a drink with him, laughed as he listened to the stories the locals shared and said just enough to keep a conversation alive. It wasn’t enough, though— these are people that have thrived in a culture that rewards ambition and resilience. They were more interested in getting to know him as a person, and while appreciates being seen as one, he will not be contributing to a conversation about personal hardships.
He hates conversations that lead to praise or pity. He’s never wanted to leave a place more. But that would be seen as rude, so he’s stuck having to redirect conversations, all while trying not to pay too much attention to you.
To say you’re gone the entire day is not an exaggeration—neither him nor Chamberlain have gotten the chance to catch up with you. But he had a feeling you’d pop up. When you did, he realized he underestimated just how well connected you were.
He’s never seen you this comfortable at an event before. Nor has he ever seen you in such a tight dress. He is thankful for the robe you paired with it for the evening. It did a wonderful job at keeping the inappropriate thoughts he would’ve had at bay.
Lucky for him, Saiyo chose not to come tonight, crossing off whatever worries he would’ve had if he’d gotten caught for looking at you too much.
“I couldn’t imagine the pressure of having all of those concubines.”
Zuko genuinely laughs this time, Lord Joji was quite the empath. “They’re terrifying. You’d think having their own secluded area would bring them some peace and serenity, yet they spend their days brawling with each other.”
The words slipped right out once it was just him and the host. He would’ve never shared that at any other event.
Joji’s clearly enjoying it, laughing at the image in his head. “Perhaps it’s time to bring in some fake eunuchs,” he sips his sake. “Declutter the court, so to speak.”
“Wait, what?”
He tenses at the sudden drop in Zuko’s tone. He couldn’t tell if he was offended or not, but he grew anxious as the silence went on. “I was just kidding, by the way,” he forces out a laugh. “It’s uh— typical humor around here. I always forget how crass we can be at times. Haha… I’m sure we look like a bunch of heathens to the rest of the world.”
“Huh?” The sudden self-depreciation pulled Zuko out of his thoughts. “Oh no, the humor here is wonderful. The eunuch idea is fucking genius.”
Joji pauses and looks at him for a moment, stuck on how he called it an idea. “It worked well for my grand uncle,” he says, testing the waters. “He was able to bring the house back down to a comfortable number in no time.”
“Is that so?” There’s a bit of skepticism in his tone. “Probably didn’t have that many to begin with.”
“It may take some time. But once they’ve finished their jobs, you can catch one of them in the final act and he’ll confess to everything during interrogation.”
“Getting more than one would be smart, wouldn’t it?” he muses to himself, then takes a sip from his glass. “You could probably just get a servant to catch them—avoid all the tears and pleading.”
Joji nods, “You’d be surprised how many attendants are willing to spy for you in exchange for a small bonus.”
Zuko suddenly huffs out a defeated laugh. “They’d only just send more.”
“Would you like my grand uncle’s information? Wait, never mind, I forgot you were—“
Zuko waves a hand. Even he forgot who he was for a moment there— he was bound to more than just the practice of keeping concubines. “I wouldn’t want to waste someone else’s time.”
“It wouldn’t be a waste at all,” he reassures him. “If you ever do change your mind though, I’d be more than happy to introduce you to him.”
“Thank you,” Zuko hums as something else catches his attention. “Could you remind me where the washroom is, again?”
—
The moon casted a faint light over the host’s backyard, revealing stone paths that allowed you to walk through a lush garden filled with delicate flowers and soft shrubs. The path took you past several wooden arches, long overtaken by nature as vines wrap up and cascade over the structures, gently rustling with each breeze.
You had hid behind one when you first heard footsteps, and then waited. You weren’t actually avoiding him, you had already expected he’d follow you out here, and just wanted to creep up on him once he got closer.
It’s not until he fully walks past you when you decide to make your presence known, magically appear a few feet behind him.
“Are you spying on me?”
“No.” You failed to startle him, but did manage to make him feel wrongfully accused. “I was just– I knew you were out here and I thought I’d get some fresh air, too.“
He braces himself. He didn't need to see the glass in your hand to know that you’ve been drinking. You had given it away when you casually stepped out of the shadows to greet him.
“Getting fresh air,” you muse to yourself as you walk up to him. “Like last night?”
The light drains from his eyes. He looks absolutely mortified, and doesn’t even try to deny it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured it’d be fun setting you off on a wild goose chase. I’m sure you have a perfectly normal explanation, though.”
“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he doesn’t sound very certain of it. “I was already planning on touring the place.”
“You know I’m just fine.” It’s not like he’d be much help if trouble were to arise, you were more than capable of defending yourself. “Does keeping me away from Ryuko make you feel better?”
Knowing that you weren’t mad should’ve made him feel better, but being spoken to like a child was so much worse. You look like you’re about to giggle at his response, regardless of what it was.
“Actually no, I have a better question. Are you going to do this every time someone shows interest in me? Even when you already have Sai and all the other concubines?”
That’s not a question he wants to answer. He hasn’t even touched Sai at all during the trip, not that it’d make a difference since that was his job. “If you’re happy, then no.” How he still manages to be stubborn, you have no clue.
Your lips twitch into a smile. “You don’t think I’d be happy with him?”
There’s a spark of annoyance in his eyes, realizing he’s going to have to come clean about something you most likely already know about.
“You told him you liked your life and then he went on to tell you everything that was wrong with it— I think you’d be miserable with him.” He grows irritated by the words he was having to repeat. “And then he insulted your position by saying there was no future in it. You’ve done nothing but work towards bettering it!”
You had a feeling he overheard that conversation and once again, your intuition hasn’t failed you. “Are you sure it’s not because he tried to say that you think you own me?”
“Yeah. He studied me for an entire hour, yet I’ve never looked at you and thought of insulting you the way he did. He spoke over you that entire time and when he couldn’t sway you, he decided to hurt your feelings. And he still thought he deserved to be given a chance.”
He’s pretty much ranting at this point and it’s taking everything in him not to go off track and say something rude.
“He deserves to have his fucking tongue cut out.”
Whoops.
“…I think that might be too harsh of a punishment.” You said it more to lighten, trying to process how pissed off he’s been this entire time.
“Whether you find it harsh or not makes no difference to me. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way,” he muttered, waving away whatever dignity he had left. “I never want to see anything like that happen again.”
You thought this would be more of a silly exchange where you’d make fun of him for being—well, pathetic. It would’ve been easier had he just felt threatened by Ryuko, but his reason for hating him is reasonable enough and you can’t find it yourself to tell him that he was wrong.
He waits for you to say the usual spiel about how he needs to stop making everything so difficult and to just have an heir already.
There was a bit of defeat in your tone when you spoke. “I wish you knew how tiring it is watching you do whatever you want, when I’ve done nothing but try to do the right thing.”
You sigh and reach forward, fingers gently brushing over the apple of his cheek, and with Zuko being dwindled down to a man who takes whatever he can get, he gravitates towards your touch.
“Maybe it’s time to give up,” he feebly suggests.
“If only the people knew how much of a fool they have for a ruler, too,” you softly say.
And like the fool he is, he places his hand over yours and just holds it there— making it one of the very few times he’s ever allowed someone to touch the scar on his face. “And what if I was just a fool?”
Now he’s just speaking nonsense. You know more than anyone how much he’d hate being a normal person. He liked having power—that was alright, he was one of the rare few who knew how to wield it properly.
“I wouldn’t allow that.” You continue to rub your thumb over his cheek, using a tone that’s far too tender for the answer you come up with. “I’d stage a coup d'état and put you right back where you belong.”
His lips slowly curve in a smile. “You’re making it very hard for me to be angry with our circumstances right now.”
“I know, at least you have me as a loyalist,” you hum, slightly tilting your head as you get a better look at him. “I’m starting to grow a little homesick, honestly— even if it is boring there.”
“You can go home early, if you want,” he offers with a second thought.
“I’ll be fine. It’s only 3 more days.”
“I hope you’re nicer to me by then. I’m a little homesick, too.”
How charming. “That’s if I don’t drink my memories away after tonight— this isn’t exactly a conversation I want to remember,” you sadly admit.
Zuko’s eyes soften, wishing you’d drink more around him often—you’re quite endearing in the state you’re in. “And why is that?”
“Because I’d prefer not to be overcome with embarrassment when I wake up tomorrow morning.”
His mind goes back to the morning after he first kissed you and chuckles. “It’s not that bad.“
You laugh blandly in return. “Not everyone’s as shameless as you.”
But perhaps it was time to even things out between you for once. He did complain about being the only one drunk that night, after all.
So in the moment of silence you shared with him, you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheekbone, allowing yourself to be selfish for once.
He’s never been so still in his life. You’ve yelled at him, rejected him, pushed him on to other women so many times that he’s lost count. Yet there was no denying that you felt something so incredibly deep for him. There was no need to spell it out— he saw it, felt it, heard it.
“What happened to never touching you again?” Zuko wasn’t complaining, but he was absolutely going to tease you.
“I’m afraid that only applies to you,” you say, feigning sympathy. “Unless you’d like to order me to stop touching you, as well.”
“I would never do such a thing,” he fights off a smile. “Though I would like to know what my punishment would be if I defied your orders.”
There was a sudden look of disbelief on your face, a little disappointment as well. “That is the sluttiest question I’ve ever heard, you know that?”
“I think the courtesans may have just corrupted your mind with all their crude little jokes.”
“Perhaps. They told me I’d make a fine courtesan the other day.” You run the backs of fingers across his jaw, ignoring the sudden twitch in his eye. “Could you imagine such a simple comment planting a seed in my mind?”
Fortunately, you’ve had enough drinks in you to be able to dismiss the sinister laugh that comes out of him. “No. I don’t want to imagine that, at all, actually.”
“Uh-oh,” you smile and take a sip. “Does the idea make you jealous, My Lord?”
“Jealous? Yes.” He plucks the glass from your hand and takes a sip of your sake. “A little angry, as well.”
“A little?”
His eyes narrow and speaks as if you had just challenged him. “I would buy you out before you got the chance to take customers.”
You throw out another idea. “What if I took a customer while waiting for you to finish the paperwork?”
“I’d turn him into a eunuch.” He watches as your smile slowly fades away.
“That’s a little much for a man that hoards concubines, no?”
He thinks to defend himself against hoarding accusations, but forces himself to let it go. “Does it matter if you’re planning on drinking your memories away tonight?”
You stare at him as you recall the last ten minutes or so. “I probably should.”
“Were you not going to?”
“I was on the fence about it,” you give a contemplative hum. “Eh—better safe than sorry.”
You turn to leave, but Zuko grabs your wrists before you take a step. “You’re not going back to ignoring me tomorrow, are you?”
“Depends on my mood tomorrow,” you smile and snatch your wrist away. “Bye!”
“Fuck—Wait! What kind of an answer is that?”
—
The last days of your visit were fairly normal.
You had ended up taking the rest of the time off. Everyone figured you needed the break anyways and you had zero objections to that.
It was the last day when everything went south.
Of course you just so happened to be there, after deciding to stay at the hotel for some extra rest before traveling back home.
The Madame at Cyra’s brothel would’ve had no issues letting you take a nap there. Had you actually done so, you would’ve been sleeping peacefully right about now— rather than awkwardly sitting in a silent room full of people who are too nervous to speak.
After thirty minutes of being tortured by discomfort, Lord Zuko and the Chamberlain finally walk through the door. The tears started almost immediately.
You guess the guard who had to go fetch them didn’t say what the emergency was. They didn’t look very mad. Chamberlain looked more worried. Zuko just stood there while Concubine Saiyo and one of the guards got on their hands and knees to beg for forgiveness.
“Lord Z-Zuko, I’m— I’m s-so so-sorry!”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty! Please spare my life. I beg you! Please!”
It takes a moment to click for Zuko and only you notice the glimmer of joy in his eyes when he finally realizes what has happened.
You were hoping he’d send you back to your room, but ended up having to kneel a few feet away from the two adulterers as they had to recall their stories in full. You’re not sure why that was still protocol. Even Zuko looked miserable as he had to listen to them, but the Chancellor was known to be a stickler.
The older man regretted it soon enough. Hearing the events of the sexual encounter quickly became a unique torture he was forced to endure.
Saiyo began to beg again in the end, and you felt a little bad. She was a nice girl.
“Please—please!! I’ll do anything!”
Zuko offers a sympathetic hum, only to remind her of the law. “I have no other choice but to remove you from the court. What kind of a message would that send to the others if I let you stay?” He was full of shit.
“My f-family will kill me!” she continued to cry.
He looks to the guard next to her, who’s staring out into space, tears all dried out. Zuko tries to ask him a question but struggles with the wording at first. Eventually he grows impatient and bluntly asks, “Did you enjoy fucking her?”
The guard grows pale, terrified of what the punishment for that would be.
“I’m not executing you. Not whipping you, either. Or whatever physical punishment they have for these kinds of things,” Zuko lets him know.
The guard sighs in relief, then bows. “I— Yes, I did.”
Chamberlain scoffs and looks at the guard in disgust. How the youth could willingly engage in such devious acts was beyond him.
“Sai, do y—“ Zuko tries to get the concubines' attention, but she's too busy dry heaving to notice. “Saiyo. Sa—my fucking gods—Sai!”
She throws her head back and wails. “I’m s-so sorry, my Lord!!”
“Do you want t—Sai, please,“ cut off once more, he slams his fist on the table next to him, startling everyone in the room. “STOP.”
She takes in a sharp breath, whimpering another apology as Zuko glared at her, daring her to sniffle again.
Zuko finally speaks and points to the guard. “If you don’t want to go home, I can gift you to him. You can be his wife.”
“W-wait— really?”
Zuko notices her bottom lip quiver. “Don’t. Just answer the question.”
“O-okay, yes. Please. I can’t go home.”
“Great.” He takes a sip of water. “You all can leave now— except for you.”
You don’t do a very good job of hiding your dismay, but you stay in place and wait for everyone to leave.
Zuko opens his mouth.
Saiyo pops in and whines, “Lord Zuko, do you hate me?!”
He rests his head in his hand and sighs. “No, I don’t hate you.”
“But—I cheated!“
“That’s okay. We found you a place to live and you are safe,” he says, trying to maintain his patience to the best of his ability. “I need to speak with Ms.—“
“But will you be fine?” she whimpers.
Her question actually manages to make Zuko smile a little, but it’s for reasons he can’t exactly share. “I will be just fine,” he hums.
The concubine needs some extra reassurance, so it wasn’t until a few minutes later when you two finally had the room to yourselves.
“Don’t you think you’re sitting a little too far?” he asks.
You are. Without a word, you bring the floor cushion upfront, ignoring the pleased look on his face because he knows exactly what he’s doing.
There’s a bit of a stare off until you finally break the silence. “You’re not punishing me for this.”
“There’s nothing to punish you for,” he chuckles. “Not that I’d ever have the heart to, anyway.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Just wanted to talk.”
“I’m kneeling in front of you,” you mutter, stating the obvious. “This doesn’t feel very casual.”
“Would you like to sit on my lap instead?”
“No,” you answer rather fast.
“Shame,” he relaxes, leaning on the armrest. “I must say I am having a very good day right now.”
You nearly roll your eyes, it’s not often you make mistakes, this one being punishable by death had it been made during the rule of the two previous Fire Lords. “I’m sure you are.”
“Feels very meaningful, as well.”
“Yeah?” You try to sound interested, but you have a feeling he’s going to eventually say something inappropriate. “How so?”
“You know,” he gestures at the door. “You brought them here because you wanted more space between us— I didn’t want space, I also don’t like my concubines. Then you ended up solving both of my problems and even showered me with some of your affection. I feel as if we’ve come full circle here.”
That wipes the smile off your face, you were counting on him to be kind enough to pretend like it didn’t happen.
You force out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
He lets out an actual laugh, light and filled to the brim with content. “I’m talking about the banquet we attended a few days ago.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t—“
“Yes, you did,” he says, looking at you with amusement. “All drunk and sweaty, throwing yourself at me and begging me to f—“
“That did not happen!” you slam both hands on the ground and yelp.
“Oh, so you do know?”
“I do, now stop—please,” you beg him.
“Alright, fine,” he laughs. “Anyways, I just wanted to thank you, that's all.”
“Don’t thank me for any of that,” you murmur, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Ugh—If I’d known I’d be bringing two freaks together, I would’ve never brought guards. You should probably expect an apology letter from my father. Though I’m sure it’ll mostly be him begging you to allow him to torture the guard.”
Knowing your father, the news will probably have a chill running down his spine and sickened with worry. A mistake like this could very well result in you being taken in as a concubine in place of Saiyo, since you and your father would be the reason why he had one less concubine.
Zuko’s too busy thinking about how your father would be probably go into full, graphic detail on the proposed torture, leaving him mildy disturbed.
“I should probably write him a letter—let it be how he finds out about the incident and let him know neither of you are at fault.”
“If you could, that’d be wonderful,” you nod in content.
The weary look on his face never fades as his eyes trail past you and look off into the distance. Your father being the cause of it was hard to believe. There’s something he’s not telling you.
“I know I’m still on a break, but I’m on a fixed salary,” you say to lighten the mood, despite growing concerned over the sudden mood switch. “If you want my professional opinion.”
He gives an apathetic hum, letting the silence drag on some more as he takes your offer into consideration.
“I ran into my sister the other day.”
Your eyes widened and he confirmed it with a subtle nod, then continued to give you a breakdown of their brief reunion. It sounded like something that would’ve been more heartwarming, but in the end you understood why he didn’t look very moved. “I considered pardoning her, but that only lasted about an hour.”
“Probably for the best. She sounds like she’s found peace, and you got to avoid all the pushback and scrutiny a pardoning would’ve received.” You were sugar coating it, the council would’ve been up in flames. The only reason why you’re staying calm over him committing literal treason is because he seemed to need a friend right now.
“I’ll help her if she needs it, but she’s not coming back to the capital after everything I’ve had to do for this fucking place over the years. I gave my soul away in exchange for everyone’s peace,” he admits in defeat. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you murmur, not having much advice for him on the matter.
It has gotten a lot better over the years, but the beginning years of his reign have left lasting effects on him, though he’d never admit it.
He says it’s all been rewarding, but those years were thankless. No one took him seriously. He had multiple attempts on his life. He was terrified of being anything like his father, so his own people constantly took advantage of him for being too nice. When the word spread, people protested because they thought he was too weak.
Things finally started to pick up once he began to ally with different clans and create factions, which allowed him to get even more done since people were more willing to help and support him.
He’s loved by the majority now, but you’ve come to realize that the damage had been done. You felt sorry for him. His main goal of helping others has never changed, but he has no interest in getting to know people.
“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbles, rising from his seat.
“I wasn’t looking at you at all.”
He watches as you stand and walk to the other end of the room, putting the floor cushion in its rightful place. His gaze may have drifted lower than it should’ve, but it rose back up once you turned around.
He looks like he’s about to say something stupid, so you shoot him a glare. “What?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs, pointing at the cushion you had just put away, “just reminded me of the empty bed I’ll have tonight.” Everyone was leaving tomorrow morning, except for the new couple, who were to leave right away.
“Don’t complain as if you didn’t try to thank me for it,” you sigh.
“I’m not. I might have another way to thank you, though,” he steps in front of you just before you pass him and leans forward.
“Miss Advisor!”
Concubine Saiyo was still turning the corner when she cried out for you. Zuko quickly spins around and you take several steps away from him. Saiyo comes trotting in shortly afterwards, tears streaming from her cheeks.
“I’m leaving now. I will miss seeing you!” her voice trembles.
“I will miss you, too! I wish you the best of luck.”
Zuko had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but then found himself fighting back a smile as he watched you two wrap your arms around each other. If this was going to be the standard for farewells, he should just start bringing Concubines to trips, along with a fake eunuch. He’d be a free man soon enough!
“And because I like you, if you ever get sent to the west wing as a concubine, don’t listen to what any of them say because they are looking to set you up for failure,” Sai tightly grabs on to your shoulders, “the easiest way to win over the Lord’s affection is to relax your throat. It’s fine if you gag, if anything he’d rather you would—“
“SAIYO!” The name practically rips through both the Fire Lord’s and Chamberlain's vocal chords.
She glances at them, then hurries to tell you the rest. “The messier the better, honestly. Practice Yoga as well! He—“
Boyfriend!Gojo who will always be the first one to suggest wearing matching outfits.
For one, he can buy any you like and as many as you'd like. It being from a suit and dress to pyjama bottoms and t-shirts.
You had mentioned it once before, the matching, fluffy, cute as hell hello kitty ones, a white and blue pair of fuzzy pants and black shirts.
Guess what he had laid on the bed the next evening.
After brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed you came out to see the exact set, in your size in the color you wanted right on your side.
Before you could get excited about them-
"Does it look good on me?"
That teasing tone and a chuckle right after it.
Boyfriend!Gojo who was wearing his part of the set already, a hand sliding under the loose t-shirt to rub a large palm across his toned abdomen, a white strip trailing downnnn and disappearing into the fuzzy fabric.
Boyfriend!Gojo who wasn't wearing any boxers underneath the blue hello kitty pants. Id say a good… z tier (hard) cock print was staring right up at you. Didn't help that a small wet splotch of precum was already making itself known.
Guess who got their dick sucked dry that night.
Boyfriend!Gojo
Boyfriend!Gojo who always held the door open for you, never letting you step out of the car without being there to give you his hand.
Boyfriend!Gojo who loved it when you clung to him in public, not being ashamed of some PDA. If you held his bicep, he made sure to flex it.
Boyfriend!Gojo who knew what you needed before you even did.
A sweet little treat with your coffee? There.
Some hair in your face or mouth you hadn't even realised was there? Fixed with a sweet caress.
After coming home from a tiring day and being pulled down on the couch and getting eaten out? Without a thought.
Boyfriend!Gojo who, speaking of eating out your cunt, was so good at it that it made his dick jealous- twitching and leaking while not being able to get inside that deliciously tight warmth his own tongue was occupying.
Boyfriend!Gojo who maybe was a bit too addicted to the taste of you after a long day.
Close to "home in three days, don't wash" level of obsessed.
Boyfriend!Gojo who gathered you up in his strong arms at any given chance, either carrying you or cuddling you like some oversized teddy bear he couldn't live without.
Boyfriend!Gojo who sent you pictures every day. No matter what you were doing that day or how many people were around.
Never a warning, never a spoiler.
A big fat dick dropped into your dms.
Shameless, i say.
But he loved making you flustered.
Yoon's notes: h..h..hey guys... a light lil hc i hope my blog doesnt get taken down for using tags lmao
